The Nokia phones back then were quite loud. I could vaguely hear the coughing echoing throughout the exam hall from the other end of the line, and occasionally his too. I'd repeat myself to make sure he heard me before continuing. About two hours later, probably after everyone had handed in their papers, I hung up, sighed, and looked out the window. It was the northern winter sun, a hazy, indistinct white. I stared at that sky, thinking, "This good-for-nothing Liu Shan (a historical figure known for his incompetence). What good is a good family background?"
Another half hour passed, and the deathly quiet dormitory gradually filled with voices. Footsteps in the corridor grew louder, and finally, someone opened the door. He was back from his exam. I asked him how it went, and he said it was alright, he was sure he passed. Then we went out again, carefree, playing games, watching movies, and eating spicy potatoes and hot pot at Jianshan. We bought a bunch of useless little things, drifting through the day in a daze, and then came back exhausted, just like every weekend before.
On the way back, I was incredibly unhappy. A complete sense of suffocation, boredom, loss, and confusion, like a thick layer of fog on a dirty window, obscuring the future.
This was the prime of my youth!
The journey back to school was long. Sitting in the taxi, leaning on his shoulder, I unknowingly drifted off to sleep. I'm a terrible sleeper; I can't even sleep well in bed, let alone in class, on a bus, or on a plane… I've never been able to enjoy that kind of drowsiness. But that afternoon was the only time in my memory that I leaned on someone's shoulder and slept like a log in a car.
It was time to get out. He gently woke me, but I was still dreaming. I got out of the car in a daze and it took me a long time to fully wake up. He silently carried our bags and walked ahead, step by step. Looking at his back, remembering that nap, I thought to myself, what a trustworthy and warm-hearted person he must be for me to fall asleep so soundly in the car.
Old Sun finally passed his CET-4 (College English Test Band 4) and graduated, returning home to Hebei. But his family is incredibly strict; his parents won't let him leave home at all. They want to arrange a stable job for him locally, with a house and a car already provided, a blind date, and then marriage and children… basically, the standard life of someone who lives under a powerful family's roof. He can't even leave home to come to Tianjin for my birthday, which is an hour and a half drive away.
I forget if it was my 22nd or 23rd birthday, but after class, I was too lazy to move, listlessly squatting in my dorm watching a movie. I thought, his family is so strict, he's such a grown man, and he doesn't even have the freedom to go out. Being together is just a waste of time. We're both so unambitious, unable to even pass CET-4, what's the point of talking about going abroad together… what's the point of talking about the future? Your family is rich; you can live so well without working hard. I don't have such good fortune. What I have to fight tooth and nail for, you get effortlessly from birth, with your parents shielding you from every hardship. I did want to rely on you, but is this the kind of person anyone can rely on? Forget it, it's better to go our separate ways. I'm not that lucky; I can't afford to waste time. I still have to work hard.
Speaking of which, back then, the term "tough girl" didn't exist, so I was quite proud of my decision to break up. My best friend said she'd seen people break up because they weren't rich, but never because they were rich.
Before making the decision, I went to his hometown to see him. He was still completely unaware, excitedly telling me he'd already enrolled at New Oriental in Beijing to study for the TOEFL and GRE… so he'd have a legitimate reason not to stay at home, and they wouldn't be able to control him anymore. He said he'd come visit me often…
I couldn't bear it, and didn't say the words "break up." After the meeting, I thought about it for a long time and finally sent him a text message with a clichéd, corny line: "Let's break up. I'm already with someone else."
If there's such a thing as quitting a job without a backup plan, then my breakup was a "naked breakup. " What I really wanted to say was, "A person doesn't deserve the best partner until they become the best version of themselves." But back then, I was a complete mess; what right did I have to say such a thing?
As I expected, after I broke up with him, he didn't make a scene or try to win me back. It was like a knife stabbing into cotton—no trace, no sound, the knife even disappeared.
The last time we met, he brought a huge suitcase and returned everything that held memories of me to me at a Starbucks on Binjiang Road. This included seven notebooks filled with all the text messages we'd exchanged since the first day we met. He wrote them down, word by word.
He said, "I'm not as good at writing as you; I can't write like that. I could only copy them all down."
Looking at that suitcase full of memories, I truly felt what "dizziness" meant for the first time. His calmness made me realize, belatedly, that I still hoped he would try to win me back. But I understood that from the moment I said "break up," I could never get him back.
Losing someone isn't painful; what's painful is the irretrievable loss.
I later learned that after the breakup, he was devastated and fell seriously ill, becoming depressed and refusing to eat, losing 10 pounds. His parents were terrified and took him on a trip to Europe to clear his head. After they returned, they no longer interfered with his freedom, letting him do whatever he wanted and go wherever he wanted. The first thing he did was transform from someone who couldn't even leave his house into someone who could drive alone from Hebei to Anhui to meet a girl he liked.
When I found out, I was furious. To give you an analogy, it's like you bought a stock that kept falling, and you held on for two years, unwilling to cut your losses, until finally you determined there was no chance of it rising and gave up. But the moment you sold, the stock price skyrocketed. What angered
me even more was what happened next. He started to reflect deeply on his experience and worked hard, learning English from a level where he couldn't even pass the CET-4 (College English Test Band 4). It took him almost two years, and he took the TOEFL six times and the GRE four times. Finally, he was accepted by a school in New York and got a visa, going to the United States just as I was about to graduate. After all that fuss, it turned out he was the one who went to America.
Before he left, one day I impulsively went back to his blog and saw a post that read: "I've gone far enough that I've forgotten why I started. The heavy weight of time and hardship, a mix of joy and tears." That blog was filled with how he spent the past two years. As I read, tears streamed down my face, and I thought of many "what ifs," but ultimately, there were only "buts.
" "I really can't hold it in anymore, wait a minute, I need to pull over and pee," Lao Sun said.
I turned my face to the window; the car was playing a jumble of traffic announcements, but I couldn't hear anything. Memories piled up like mountains, so heavy I couldn't lift my head. If he hadn't said he needed to pee, I don't know how I would have managed to calm down. Eight years have passed. Why is it so hard to recover what's been done? Simply put, because what's done is done.
He pulled the car over, opened the door, ran to a corner, and relieved himself against the wall. When he got back to his car, he drove a couple of steps, glanced in the rearview mirror, and saw my face. Startled, he slammed on the brakes and asked, "What's wrong?"
I steeled myself, thinking, "I've already lost face enough, might as well lose it all again."
So, with snot streaming down my face and tears streaming down my face, I told him, "Old Sun, I wasn't planning on seeing you during this business trip to Beijing; I've been too busy. But tonight's plans changed, and I suddenly had some free time, so I thought I'd come see you. I didn't expect you to reply to my text."
We've known each other for eight years. Sometimes I really miss you. My life is pretty organized and quiet now. I go to bed early and get up early, working on my manuscript at home. Sometimes at night, when the mood strikes, I think of a lot of things from the past. Saying I suddenly wanted to see you isn't entirely without reason. A few days ago, I went back to your oldest blog and looked at it again. Time really flies… That's all, I just wanted to tell you a small thing. Of course, you don't remember it, but every time I think of you, I think of that little thing. It's about before we broke up, when we took a taxi from Binjiang Road back to school. In that taxi, I actually fell asleep leaning on your shoulder, and I slept so soundly that I was even dreaming. I didn't even realize it when we got out of the taxi. Something like that had never happened before, and it never will. To have met someone in your life who made you feel so safe, someone you could fall asleep leaning on in a car, is truly precious.
Looking back, I was such a mess. I'm so sorry, please excuse me. After all these years, I feel everything has improved a lot now, probably the best time of my life... You've changed too. You've become better.
...
Don't see me off, I'm getting off. The hotel is just ahead, see you next time you come to Beijing.
He remained silent, not even looking at me.
I felt I couldn't stay another second longer, so I opened the car door and got out. There was no sound behind me, then after a while, I heard a car starting to move. I didn't dare turn around, paused for a moment, trying to discern where the sound came from. Then I finally confirmed that his car had gradually driven away. In that instant, I felt extremely sad, yet also relieved. There was no dramatic scene of someone running after someone, kissing in the pouring rain. It was a calm night, without even a breeze, and the streets were deserted.
And that windless, deserted street was like our hearts now. It had once been bustling with people, lively and lively, but every time night falls, it lies alone in the darkness, quietly thinking, when, just one streetlight would shine, just one, and that would be enough. Sanlian Reading
Article by Qi Jinnian:
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