I'll Wait for You in the Future - Chapter 12: Till We Meet Again

The greatest distance in the world isn’t
that I can’t say ‘I love you,’
but that missing you deeply, I can only bury it in my heart.

“Although I don’t truly understand you,
I’ve already remembered the feeling you gave me.”

Friday night, during the radio’s letter-reading segment, Dingdang hid in her room, turning on the radio early.

After the host’s brief opening, he began reading letters.

“This letter is from listener Xiaohuihui. He says: ‘I have a friend, quite handsome, and quite a player. Many people like him, but he married his current wife, and everyone is puzzled; why did he suddenly settle down? Later, the friend said that after they met, he told the girl about his miserable past, and the girl cried for him all night, and then he decided on her.’ Xiaohuihui says he also hopes to meet such a kind and compassionate girl. Well, it’s not just hoping you meet a kind girl, but hoping everyone can meet a kind partner, someone who understands your feelings, someone who can think from your perspective, someone who makes you feel safe. I hope everyone can be happy.”

“Okay, our next letter is from an old friend—Sanmao’s Love.”

Hearing her letter being read, Dingdang quickly hugged the radio and burrowed into her bed.

Last week, she’d written a letter to the radio station, recounting her experiences after meeting her pen pal, his help and guidance. After breaking up with a friend, being counseled by a teacher, confessing her feelings unsuccessfully, and misunderstanding her mother, she really wanted to meet this pen pal, to tell him her story. The pen pal said that if she wanted to meet, she should write to the radio station; he’d definitely hear it. After much thought, she’d mustered the courage to write this letter, wanting to know who this person was. At the end, she’d added a sentence: Till we meet again.

In the hospital ward, Liu Dazhi was keeping Chen Xiaowu company, also listening to the radio. Hearing Dingdang’s letter, Liu Dazhi was startled: “Isn’t that Dingdang? My god, she wants to meet you?”

Chen Xiaowu nodded shyly.

“But the handwriting isn’t like yours.”

“I deliberately wrote it that way, afraid you’d recognize it.”

“Then how did you get the Andy Lau autographed photo?”

Chen Xiaowu was embarrassed. After thinking for a moment, he said to Liu Dazhi, “I’m telling you this, don’t tell anyone else, otherwise, I’m done for.”

“I swear I won’t tell!”

“It’s fake. I bought an Andy Lau photo and practiced his signature for two weeks. Don’t tell anyone!”

“You actually did that! You’re shameless, hahaha!”

“Didn’t you tell me to imitate your mom’s signature on the exam paper? I thought I had a talent for this, so I wanted to make her happy.”

Liu Dazhi sighed, “I should have known it was you. But Dingdang wants to meet; will you meet her?”

“I told her that if she wanted to meet, she should write to the radio station; I’d definitely hear it. I’ll write to her, arranging the time and place.”

“But what if…”

“What if Dingdang is disappointed? What if she doesn’t like me?”

Chen Xiaowu continued, “Actually, I’ve also thought about this. Some people are attracted by appearance, then get to know the person. Others are attracted by inner qualities, then accept the person’s appearance. I can’t do the former, so I tried to do the latter. If that doesn’t work either, then it means I’m not suitable. But at least, during this time, Dingdang has been much happier.”

“Xiaowu, you’re so cheap! You should be an emotional counselor! Look at you, writing letters ostensibly to make a pen pal, but actually to develop a relationship—that’s a clandestine maneuver [暗度陈仓 (andu chencang)]. Imitating Andy Lau’s signature is deception [瞒天过海 (man tianguo hai)], not directly confessing, only comforting from behind—that’s a flanking maneuver [围魏救赵 (wei wei jiu zhao)]. And you don’t actively confess, waiting for Dingdang to ask you out—that’s waiting for an easy victory [以逸待劳 (yi yi dai lao)], waiting for a rabbit to run into a tree [守株待兔 (shou zhu dai tu)]. You’re also injured; Dingdang feels guilty; you’re taking advantage of the situation [趁火打劫 (chen huo da jie)]. Xiaowu, you’re terrifying!” After Liu Dazhi’s analysis, he realized he’d completely underestimated Chen Xiaowu; he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Xiaowu, we agreed that if we ever get rich, we won’t forget our brother. You have to support me, Weixiao, my parents, and my kids!” Liu Dazhi felt that people truly can’t be judged by appearances.

“Sigh, don’t laugh at me. I’m a cripple now; if it weren’t for my dad’s recovery, our family wouldn’t have survived today. Dingdang doesn’t like me. I just tried my best, to be friends with her equally, without overthinking it.” Chen Xiaowu felt a little dejected.

“Actually, I also know that the day we meet will be the end of this. I hope we can remain pen pals, but it’s unfair to her; after all, she’s in the open, and I’m in the shadows.”

“Later, I finally understood that not wanting to lose something
is harder than gaining something.”

Liu Dazhi’s desk inexplicably received many greeting cards, all from younger female students. “Dazhi Ge, you’re so handsome, can I be friends with you?” “Dazhi, after seeing your dance, I became your fan, Happy New Year!” “Zhi, I never realized there was someone like you at school before. I apologize for noticing you so late; I hope this is the beginning of our acquaintance.”

Liu Dazhi frantically put away the cards.

So this is what it feels like to be noticed. He secretly walked to Chen Tong’s desk: “Did you receive any cards?”

“No.”

“No way! I got so many.” Liu Dazhi’s face showed a hint of joy.

“Really? That’s pretty good.”

“What’s this?” Liu Dazhi took a large stack of postcards from Chen Tong’s desk.

“Take them if you like.”

“They’re all for you! How can I take them? There are so many!” Liu Dazhi felt a little disappointed. Chen Tong was still Chen Tong.

Liu Dazhi held the postcards, reading them aloud: “So disgusting! So disgusting!”

“I never look at them; I don’t feel anything.”

Liu Dazhi dragged over a chair, sitting before Chen Tong: “I have a question for you. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Impossible. You’re not treating me like a brother.”

“I’m not treating you like a brother.”

“I’ve been treating you like a good friend.”

“I appreciate that.”

“You really don’t have a girlfriend? Look me in the eye!”

Chen Tong looked at Liu Dazhi, expressionless. One second, two seconds, three seconds—Liu Dazhi was unnerved by Chen Tong’s gaze and pushed him.

“You’re so boring.” Liu Dazhi returned to his seat.

How could Chen Tong not have a girlfriend?

The closer Hao Huigui got to leaving, the more he wanted to confirm the day he’d leave. He called the provincial magazine, and the editor had returned from his business trip, saying he could send a copy of the manuscript. Hao Huigui couldn’t wait and arranged to pick it up on Saturday. He knew the manuscript would have the answers, but he was also afraid of knowing the answers.

Returning to his office, Hao Huigui found many greeting cards on his desk. He flipped through them casually, then one caught his eye. The card read: “I had a crush on Teacher Hao the moment I saw him, but because he’s a teacher, I kept telling myself not to feel this way. After attending many of Teacher Hao’s classes, including a private conversation, and seeing him unexpectedly replace Chen Xiaowu in the dance performance, I decided to express my feelings; I can’t suppress them any longer. Saturday afternoon after school, under the cherry blossom tree behind the school, till we meet again.”

The cherry blossom tree behind the school was the most popular spot for couples to confess their feelings.

Normally, Hao Huigui wouldn’t even read such a letter, let alone respond. But he read it, and very carefully. He knew who wrote this card. He recognized Weixiao’s handwriting instantly. Hao Huigui’s heart pounded; he hadn’t expected Weixiao to confess her feelings to him.

This was a huge disaster. Hao Huigui was incredibly conflicted. Of course, he liked Weixiao, but he absolutely couldn’t let Weixiao like him; she had to keep a place in her heart for Liu Dazhi. Hao Huigui wondered if he should refuse, or should he go to the meeting? What could he say if he went? Should he reject her, or express his feelings? Or should he confess everything to Weixiao?

Hao Huigui decided to go; he had to stop Weixiao from liking him; this couldn’t be avoided. Hao Huigui smiled at his reflection in the mirror; he felt proud of himself; Weixiao had finally fallen for him. But he immediately retracted his smile; another voice reminded him to maintain his composure, to always remember that 17-year-old Liu Dazhi was his future.

From afar, a pink padded jacket was particularly eye-catching under the bare cherry blossom tree. Hao Huigui thought for a moment and walked over. The closer he got, the faster his heart beat; the world seemed to consist only of his heartbeat and the sound of his footsteps. What should he say first? Perhaps, no matter how he started, it would be wrong. He began to think coming here was a mistake, a huge mistake. Some things don’t need to be faced or solved; just feeling them silently is enough. A voice echoed in his mind: “Go back quickly; preserve this beautiful moment, like the Little Prince’s love for his rose, under a glass dome, protecting it from any bacteria!” Yes, that’s right! Hao Huigui convinced himself; he decided to run away. The person in the pink padded jacket was looking up at the distant mountains, seemingly lost in thought, not noticing Hao Huigui.

Hao Huigui made his decision and turned, shrinking his neck, lowering his head, and running towards the school gate.

“Teacher Hao! Why are you running?” Weixiao’s voice called out.

Hao Huigui instantly froze, like he’d been shot, his brain and soul scattering, his legs weak.

“I… I…” He turned his head.

The person in the pink padded jacket was still under the cherry blossom tree, looking at the distant mountains. Was it an illusion? Hao Huigui laughed at himself, then continued running.

“Teacher Hao! What’s wrong?” Weixiao’s voice called out again.

No, it couldn’t be an illusion; the voice was so clear. Hao Huigui lifted his head; Weixiao stood directly in front of him, wearing a white padded jacket.

Hao Huigui was confused. Weixiao was in front of him; who was the person in the pink padded jacket under the cherry blossom tree?

“Teacher Hao, you came.” The person in the pink padded jacket turned, meeting Hao Huigui’s gaze.

Feng Meili! But the card was clearly written by Weixiao! Hao Huigui couldn’t care less; he had to escape. Before Feng Meili could speak, Hao Huigui scolded her: “Feng Meili, you didn’t transfer to study for the college entrance exam; you wrote this letter to the teacher! I came here today to tell you not to write! Understand? You’re still thinking about this; what about your future? What about your college entrance exams? Are you worthy of the teacher’s efforts? Are you worthy of your mother’s understanding and support?”

“Was it worth all your hard work over the years?” Feng Meili’s face flushed crimson, her eyes instantly welling up. Hao Huigui’s rapid-fire words brought the situation under control, then he softened his tone, saying, “Alright, let’s just pretend nothing happened. I’m leaving; you should go home too.” Hao Huigui waved, dismissing Feng Meili. Weixiao stood before him, motionless. “What are you doing here?” Hao Huigui was still unsure what was happening. “Feng Meili asked me to come with her. I was afraid she’d be sad if you didn’t come, so I came. But I didn’t expect you to be here…” Weixiao’s tone made it unclear whether Hao Huigui’s presence was a source of happiness or disappointment. “I came to find out which student would do something like this at such a crucial time.” Hao Huigui’s tone was serious. “Oh. I see.” Weixiao stuck out her tongue. “Go home now, and don’t do this again.” Hao Huigui’s heart rate gradually returned to normal; he breathed a sigh of relief; the worst hadn’t happened. As he passed Weixiao, Hao Huigui suddenly remembered something: “Don’t help your classmates copy greeting cards in the future; it’ll cause misunderstandings.” “Ah, you figured out it was me helping Feng Meili copy! Um, she thought her handwriting was ugly.” Weixiao looked a little embarrassed. “I recognize your handwriting.” Hao Huigui said this before walking towards his dorm, “You owe me a real New Year’s card.” “Okay, goodbye, Teacher Hao!” Hao Huigui’s mood felt like a stone had landed, yet also like a large piece of his heart had been lost.

Dingdang arrived early at the second gazebo on the right side of Renmin Park’s entrance, first sitting, then leaning against a pillar. She checked the time; twenty minutes remained. Suddenly, she had an idea: Why not hide and see who her pen pal is before deciding whether to meet? She knew this wasn’t right, but she suddenly felt afraid. If things went badly, at least they wouldn’t be so awkward. Thinking this, Dingdang hid behind a row of small shops near the gazebo, secretly watching.

It was almost three o’clock; Dingdang was nervous. She saw an old man slowly walking towards the gazebo, sitting down. Her heart sank. She kept telling herself not to think this way; her pen pal was kind, and she shouldn’t be so materialistic. Even if it was this old man, becoming friends wouldn’t be bad; he looked kind. The old man sat for a few minutes, then stood up and left. It wasn’t him; Dingdang breathed a sigh of relief. Two young men, wearing sunglasses and smoking, then squatted on the gazebo bench. Dingdang was scared; it couldn’t be them; the letter writer seemed cultured, but these guys were so uncouth. If she met someone uncouth, would it be okay as long as they were kind? Dingdang closed her eyes, thinking hard. Uncouthness could be corrected, but they’d agreed to meet alone; bringing a friend was dishonest. If it was these two, she wouldn’t go out. Dingdang opened her eyes; the two young men were gone…

Time ticked by—three o’clock, three ten, three fifteen. Was her pen pal late? Or were they also hiding, observing? Thinking this, Dingdang became alert. Like a secret agent, she pressed against the wall, carefully observing, checking the surroundings, seeing if someone was also secretly watching her.

The park was already sparsely populated; seeing only two or three people in the entire square, Dingdang felt like a lunatic acting in a spy drama. It seemed her pen pal wasn’t coming; Dingdang’s mood was mixed—relief and regret. A lack of results wasn’t necessarily a bad result.

At three twenty, she was about to leave when she saw a figure slowly walking towards the second gazebo. Dingdang couldn’t see clearly and stared intently. The figure drew closer; she recognized it—a person, using a cane, slowly walking towards the gazebo. Dingdang was stunned; the world seemed to freeze.

The person with the cane was Chen Xiaowu.

Chen Xiaowu slowly walked towards the gazebo, step by painful step. His injury hadn’t healed, but he’d escaped the hospital to meet Dingdang, walking for an hour, still arriving late. Chen Xiaowu was drenched in sweat; he climbed the steps, looked around, seeing no one. He placed his cane on the stone bench, sat down, wiped his sweat with his sleeve, and took several deep breaths; he was exhausted. At that moment, Dingdang realized why the letter had so many “ifs,” and why her pen pal seemed to know everything about her life and feelings. Chen Xiaowu had been silently watching her, and she’d criticized and disliked him, often treating him as a mere follower, someone dispensable. He’d dropped out, and she hadn’t offered much comfort; his father was injured, and she hadn’t shown much concern. But she’d encountered many problems, and Chen Xiaowu, without saying a word, had expressed all his care in his letters.

Why was it Chen Xiaowu? Dingdang felt deceived and wronged. She’d imagined her pen pal as tall, handsome, sunny, and youthful, not short, unrefined, sweating profusely after walking a few kilometers with a cane. She’d hoped her pen pal would have a career, not sell bean sprouts daily; she’d hoped he’d excel academically, like Chen Tong, getting into a good university, making her more motivated and secure.

No matter what her pen pal was like, it definitely wasn’t Chen Xiaowu; they were completely different. Thinking this, Dingdang felt incredibly sad—disappointment, regret, lost hopes, and lost direction. She hid behind the small shops and cried uncontrollably. She hated Chen Xiaowu, hated that he’d won her affection. She hated that he’d pretended to be excellent and written her letters. She hated that he’d hidden this secret for so long. She also hated that he cared so much, knowing her every mood swing, knowing what would make her happy.

Dingdang cried uncontrollably. Chen Xiaowu had ruined all her beautiful imaginings of the future. She liked the high-jumping “Andy Lau,” Hao Huigui, and Chen Tong, although she knew her previous ideas were wrong, they definitely weren’t like Chen Xiaowu.

Chen Xiaowu sat in the gazebo for ten minutes, stood up with his cane, then sat down again, taking out a piece of paper and pen, writing. He quickly wrote a few words, folded the paper, placed it on the gazebo’s tea table, picked up a stone from the steps, and placed it on the paper to prevent it from blowing away.

After doing this, Chen Xiaowu left in the direction he’d come from.

From afar, after Chen Xiaowu left, Dingdang, exhausted from crying, went to the gazebo and saw the paper on the tea table. She opened it; it read:

Sorry, Dingdang, I’m late, I’m Chen Xiaowu. Although we can’t be friends in reality, I don’t regret it at all. You once believed in me so much. Thank you.

Many years later, recalling this, Dingdang said: Although this person was completely different from the person I’d imagined, even worlds apart, I’d rather not lose this old friend than gain a new one.

Looking at the note, Dingdang still sobbed, replaying everything in her mind, then ran down the steps in the direction Chen Xiaowu had left. She understood this feeling; she was afraid of losing Chen Xiaowu, afraid of losing this feeling. She didn’t want this feeling to remain only on paper; she wanted it to become her life, something tangible and real. For so many years, only Chen Xiaowu had made her feel secure. Was this feeling liking? Dingdang didn’t know; she only knew she didn’t want to lose Chen Xiaowu as a friend. Chen Xiaowu slowly walked towards the hospital with his cane. No one noticed this young man with a cane; his expression wasn’t painful, nor did he feel he’d lost anything; instead, he felt a sense of relief. Perhaps these things weren’t meant for him.

“Chen Xiaowu! Chen Xiaowu! Stop!” Dingdang ran and shouted from behind.

Chen Xiaowu didn’t stop, continuing to walk slowly, looking at the city as if seeing it for the first time.

“Chen Xiaowu, stop! Stop!” Dingdang’s voice was choked with tears; she was afraid that if Chen Xiaowu didn’t stop, she’d lose him forever. For the first time, she felt a real pain in her heart.

Chen Xiaowu seemed to hear something, wondering if someone was calling him. He stopped, thinking for a long time, feeling it was unlikely. Dingdang shouted again: “Chen Xiaowu! It’s me!”

Chen Xiaowu heard it clearly; it was a familiar voice—Dingdang! He turned his back to Dingdang, unable to believe she’d come chasing him, unable to believe this was real. But the voice was so real; Chen Xiaowu stood there, unsure what he’d face if he turned around. Chen Xiaowu made up his mind and turned; Dingdang stood ten meters away, the two facing each other, passersby walking between them.

Seeing Chen Xiaowu stop, Dingdang also stopped. Chen Xiaowu looked at Dingdang; she was exhausted from running and gasping for breath. The two stood there, looking at each other, then Dingdang raised her right hand high, saying to Chen Xiaowu in a choked voice: “You… forgot… your note.”

Chen Xiaowu had never cried before—not when his father beat him, not when his father was injured, not when he dropped out, not when he fought, not when he fractured his bones. He didn’t know why he was crying because of “You… forgot… your note.” Seeing Chen Xiaowu cry, Dingdang also couldn’t hold back her tears. The two stood there, silently crying, passersby looking at them in surprise.

“When I knew you liked me,
I found the courage to face this world.”

Weixiao was choosing New Year’s cards at a stationery store. Many people bought many cards at once, sending them to many people to exchange postcards, feeling a sense of accomplishment. But Weixiao only bought a few each year, only for her closest friends. She chose four, for Dingdang, Liu Dazhi, Chen Tong, and Chen Xiaowu, then remembered something and continued choosing.

Weixiao thought about Hao Huigui’s words that day:

“I recognize your handwriting.”

Weixiao’s face suddenly felt hot; she looked around, seeing no one watching. She quickly chose a Chinese landscape painting card, glanced at it, seeing the words: “Remembering the past, cherishing the fragrance, easily becomes sorrow. Wanting to sing, I first collect myself; wanting to laugh, I still frown; this is the most heartbreaking.” She was about to pay when she felt the words were inappropriate and changed to: “The monkeys’ cries on both banks can’t be stopped; the light boat has already passed ten thousand mountains.”

Weixiao only realized now: Perhaps Hao Huigui had come because it was her card; he’d come not to teach Feng Meili but to teach her? Or… Weixiao didn’t dare think further. Returning home, many neighbors were waiting to sign agreements; many had already moved into temporary housing provided by the government. Everyone was enthusiastic; seeing Weixiao return, they all smiled. Wang Daqian looked at the Andy Lau poster on the wall and said to Weixiao: “Weixiao, after we move into the new house, let’s change this poster.”

“Change to another Andy Lau poster?” Weixiao asked happily.

“No, change it to a photo of your dad.” Wang Daqian smiled mischievously.

“No, Dad’s not as handsome as Andy Lau.”

“Weixiao, don’t say that; your dad was much more handsome than Andy Lau when he was young; he’s just too busy with work now.” Zhang, their neighbor, said.

“When Dad becomes more handsome than Andy Lau again, I’ll change the poster.” Weixiao smiled at Wang Daqian.

“That’s what you said; from today, Dad’s going on a diet!”

“Dad, you’re in my heart; Andy Lau’s just on the wall.”

Wang Daqian laughed.

Weixiao went into her bedroom and started writing postcards. After finishing the ones for her friends, she started writing to Hao Huigui, unsure what tone to use—teacher and student? Or friends? Weixiao struggled for a long time, recalling the day she and Hao Huigui had chatted about Tagore, reciting the same poem, “The World’s Most Distant Distance.” She copied the poem onto the card, then felt it was too formal and added a sentence: “Thank you, Teacher Hao, for introducing me to such beautiful poems and a great poet. I hope I can learn more in the future.”

After writing this, Weixiao felt it was perfect.

The next morning in class, Liu Dazhi pulled out a dozen greeting cards from his drawer, looking dejected. Many, but none he wanted.

Weixiao entered the classroom and put down her bag.

“Hey, are you sending cards this year?” Liu Dazhi asked.

“Why?” It was a warm gesture, but Liu Dazhi’s question made it seem vulgar.

“I just wanted to see if you’d send me one; I’ll buy some later and see who to send them to.” Liu Dazhi just wanted to know if Weixiao would send him one.

“Then don’t count me; I won’t send you one.” Weixiao dashed Liu Dazhi’s hopes.

“Oh… okay.” Liu Dazhi felt awkward.

He saw Weixiao open her bag and take out several postcards with writing on them. The top one read: “Dear Teacher Hao, do you remember a poem?

“The World’s Most Distant Distance…”

Liu Dazhi suddenly felt curious and directly snatched the top postcard: “Tsk tsk tsk, Dear Teacher Hao…” Liu Dazhi quickly scanned a few lines; wasn’t this a love poem? Smiling, Weixiao snatched back the postcard written to Teacher Hao.

“This isn’t for you.”

The atmosphere instantly became awkward. Liu Dazhi’s mind was filled with Weixiao’s love poem for Hao Huigui. He hadn’t read Tagore’s poems before, but now his mind was filled with Weixiao saying to Hao Huigui, “The world’s most distant distance is that I’m before you, yet you don’t know I love you…” This… what was going on?

“Slap!” Weixiao threw another postcard onto Liu Dazhi’s desk. “Here, this one’s for you.”

Liu Dazhi quickly picked up Weixiao’s postcard for him, somewhat recovering from his plummeting despair. Weixiao’s card read: “Liu Dazhi, since we became deskmates, your academic performance has steadily improved, fully demonstrating the importance and necessity of being deskmates with me. I hope in the new year, you’ll continue to emulate me and become a truly excellent person. Weixiao.”

“Huh?” Liu Dazhi’s face wore a smile, but his heart was already crying.

He really wanted to ask why Weixiao wrote a love poem to Teacher Hao but was so cold towards him.

Did Weixiao and Teacher Hao’s relationship transcend that of teacher and student? Liu Dazhi tried to recall their interactions: their encounter at the pool, Teacher Hao arranging for him and Weixiao to sit together, Teacher Hao going to Weixiao’s house for dinner, drinking with Wang Daqian, Weixiao asking him to discuss the New Year’s Day performance program, him lending Weixiao books… Which teacher would create so many opportunities to interact with a female student? Thinking this way, Liu Dazhi understood: Teacher Hao was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, using his position to secretly approach Weixiao, gaining her favor, and developing feelings for her.

Thinking about how Teacher Hao had talked to him so many times, and how he’d even told Teacher Hao he liked Weixiao, yet this teacher not only disregarded students’ dignity but also further trampled on it. It turned out Teacher Hao had approached him just to pretend to be his brother, using this to get closer to Weixiao.

Thinking this, Liu Dazhi felt a chill run down his spine. He hadn’t expected the teacher he trusted so much to be this kind of person. All day, Liu Dazhi observed Hao Huigui and Weixiao’s interactions. Weixiao’s interactions with Hao Huigui were outwardly those of a student to a teacher, but they stood much closer than he and Weixiao did when talking. They laughed during their conversations, but the content wasn’t funny at all; they must be laughing about something outsiders didn’t know. Weixiao didn’t give Hao Huigui the postcard in front of everyone, indicating she planned to give it to him privately.

Liu Dazhi felt the world had turned dark. On one hand, he felt Hao Huigui was a wolf in sheep’s clothing; on the other, he hated himself for secretly looking at Weixiao’s postcards.

He tentatively asked Chen Tong, “What kind of person do you think Teacher Hao is?”

Chen Tong said, “He’s very good; he always considers everyone else.”

“What if he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, outwardly respectable but inwardly full of malice?”

“Are you talking about He Shifu?”

“No, no, I just saw some news about teachers at other schools who pretended to be good but secretly harmed female students; I was just giving an example.”

“Are you suspicious of Teacher Hao, or worried about someone?” Chen Tong asked.

“You’re worried about Weixiao, right? She’s not someone who can be easily harmed; you’re almost driven crazy by her.” Chen Tong smiled and ignored Liu Dazhi. Liu Dazhi would rather believe Hao Huigui had deceived Weixiao than that they were genuinely in love. He went to the restroom and splashed water on his face; he needed to calm down. He didn’t know why he was so angry; Weixiao didn’t belong to him, putting Hao Huigui and himself on the same starting line, just like Zheng Wei. But he wasn’t angry at Zheng Wei pursuing Weixiao; why was he so angry at Hao Huigui? Was it simply because he was a teacher?

Liu Dazhi thought for a while and reached a conclusion he didn’t want to admit: Although Hao Huigui was a teacher, he’d always taken care of him, like a brother, a teacher, a father figure. From Liu Dazhi’s perspective, Hao Huigui was his brother, and Weixiao was the girl he liked. Originally, both belonged to him, but once Hao Huigui and Weixiao got together, he felt he’d simultaneously lost the two most important people in his life. Saying it was his delusion to feel betrayed, perhaps feeling abandoned was what hurt him most. Going from the happiest person in the world to having nothing, Liu Dazhi was heartbroken. He didn’t go home with Chen Tong, walking alone on the street, suddenly remembering his mother saying to come home early; they were out of gas. Liu Dazhi hurried home; pushing open the door, he was about to ask where the gas tank was when he saw Hao Huigui sitting in the living room chatting with his mother.

Liu Dazhi froze.

“It’s been an hour since school ended; where have you been? If it weren’t for Teacher Hao, I don’t know what you’d be eating tonight!”

“Oh.” It turned out Hao Huigui had helped fill the gas tank and carried it home. Liu Dazhi glanced at Hao Huigui and said nothing, going into his room.

Hao Huigui felt something was wrong with Liu Dazhi. After the New Year’s Day performance, Liu Dazhi had become someone everyone admired and liked; he should be happy every day, but why did he look so resentful when he looked at him…?

“Teacher Hao, please sit. Want to sing? I’ll cook; just eat whatever you want. It must be boring staying alone in the dorm; come over often.” Hao Tiemei was incredibly enthusiastic.

Liu Dazhi heard his mother say this from the inner room, and his anger surged. The moment Hao Huigui appeared, the two most important women in his life had become his. Teacher Hao, Teacher Hao, what a useless teacher, eating and drinking for free!

Liu Dazhi furiously wrote “I hate Hao Huigui” on a piece of paper, again and again.

Not enough! He used his pen to draw Xs over the three characters!

Suddenly, a voice echoed in his ears: “What did I do to you?”

Liu Dazhi turned his head; Hao Huigui’s large face looked at him questioningly. Liu Dazhi’s childishness was completely exposed; he frantically tore up the paper with Hao Huigui’s name, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it into the trash can, as if doing this would make Hao Huigui forget what had just happened.

“Speak.” Hao Huigui looked at Liu Dazhi.

Liu Dazhi looked at Hao Huigui. This was the first time he’d looked at Hao Huigui so carefully. Because of this person’s appearance, his life had undergone a drastic change; he felt like he’d fallen into a trap, everything under Hao Huigui’s control, and he was becoming increasingly powerless. Everything Hao Huigui said seemed right, and everything he predicted seemed to come true. Because of his presence, he’d done so many things that seemed natural, and because of this, Liu Dazhi realized he’d been manipulated. And the culprit was Hao Huigui!

“Teacher Hao, do you like Weixiao?” Liu Dazhi finally asked the question that had been weighing on his heart. Hao Huigui suddenly froze; he hadn’t expected Liu Dazhi to ask this. This question was difficult to answer, impossible to explain. Hao Huigui remained silent for a long time, finally blurting out, “Like your sister?”

“My sister? You like Dingdang?” Liu Dazhi was shocked.

“No! ‘Your sister’ means it’s groundless.”

Liu Dazhi didn’t care: “Do you like Weixiao?”

Hao Huigui stubbornly countered: “What are you asking? Why would I like Weixiao?”

“Then why did she write you a love poem? Why are you so close? You’re not like this with other female students. I told you I liked Weixiao because I considered you a friend, not a teacher, but you didn’t tell me you also liked her!” Liu Dazhi fired a barrage of questions. Damn it, he couldn’t lie to Liu Dazhi and say he didn’t like Weixiao, and his observations were correct; he was closer to Weixiao, but he’d done all this for Liu Dazhi!

Hao Huigui knew that if he didn’t give a real answer now, Liu Dazhi would develop a huge mental block. But if he explained everything, he’d have to reveal the truth, otherwise, he’d have to keep lying, and if he was exposed, he and Liu Dazhi could never be friends again. Could he tell Liu Dazhi the truth? He’d considered this repeatedly; whether explaining now or saying goodbye in the future, the truth was the root of everything. But Janitor Zhou served as a warning; people in this era couldn’t understand future events. Liu Dazhi stared at Hao Huigui, feeling their relationship had already broken down. If Hao Huigui couldn’t give a convincing reason, Liu Dazhi would completely reject him.

“Liu Dazhi, listen carefully; what I’m about to say, you can’t tell anyone, only you can know. I guarantee what I’m about to say will surprise you, or you might not believe it, but you must believe me, otherwise, all our efforts will be wasted. Do you understand?” Hao Huigui spoke seriously. Liu Dazhi wasn’t emotionally out of control; he just couldn’t understand why things had turned out this way. If he had a convincing reason, he could understand; the key was that he couldn’t understand—many people were like Liu Dazhi; they couldn’t accept many things, but they couldn’t understand them.

“Then say it.” Liu Dazhi spoke seriously.

Hao Huigui looked at Liu Dazhi and said word for word:

“Weixiao likes you.”

“Ah? What? Don’t joke!” Liu Dazhi’s brain short-circuited at the words “Weixiao likes you.”

“Believe me, Weixiao likes you.”

Hao Huigui saw Liu Dazhi’s expression freeze, then become vacant, and breathed a sigh of relief. He felt his fabricated reason was world-class; if he hadn’t said this, he might have said something that would drive Liu Dazhi crazy. Liu Dazhi was dumbfounded; he never expected Hao Huigui to reveal such a secret.

“Weixiao likes me? Weixiao really likes me?” Liu Dazhi forgot all his doubts about Hao Huigui; this was what he truly cared about.

“Teacher Hao, is this true?”

“When have I ever lied to you?” Hao Huigui spoke seriously.

“Why would she like me?!”

“You’re passionate, determined to do well at everything you decide to do, becoming more and more like a man. You’re also quite handsome, and you’ll become even more handsome in the future. Most importantly, you really want to become a better person.”

Hao Huigui added, “But remember, since Weixiao likes you, don’t doubt it. Try to become someone worthy of being liked, and don’t ask her; girls are shy.”

“Mm.” Liu Dazhi couldn’t hide his joy, vigorously nodding.

Liu Dazhi hadn’t expected that Weixiao, whom he’d secretly admired for so long, actually liked him. But why hadn’t he noticed? Liu Dazhi desperately tried to recall: Weixiao hoping his grades would improve, Weixiao forcing him to attend class, Weixiao pretending nothing happened after his confession, Weixiao taking him home for dinner and introducing him to her father… all these seemed like signs she liked him, but why hadn’t he noticed before?

“Alright, stop thinking; let’s eat.” Hao Huigui glanced at the paper on Liu Dazhi’s desk. Liu Dazhi quickly put the paper in his drawer, feeling embarrassed.