Chapter 35: Words from the Future

Heartache, anger, and confusion wrapped around him completely. 

Reason abandoned him.

He didn’t understand.

Why did girls always have to complicate the simplest things?

Was it really necessary? 

Did it have to come to this?

It was just a school. 

Did they really need to blow it up into something this big?

Fine. 

Even if she insisted he go to Qingyuan.

All right, he could do that. But breaking up? What was that about?

Couldn’t he just buy a high-speed rail ticket every weekend to see her? 

Even if they were in different cities, couldn’t they video call every day? 

Even if they couldn’t see each other all the time, would their feelings really fade?

Why did it have to be like this?

Why did she have to make decisions for him?

Why couldn’t she let him choose for himself?

He screamed those questions a hundred times, a thousand times inside his heart, but no sound came out.

He backed up helplessly until he hit the wall, then slid slowly down it until he was sitting on the floor.

He had been determined to agree to whatever she said. After all, when it came time to fill out the application forms, the final choice would still be his, right?

Whether he picked Linxiang or Qingyuan, it would ultimately be up to him. 

He could just agree to everything she asked, then show up on the first day of school in front of her shocked face and grin, “Surprised?”

By then everything would already be set in stone. She could get as angry as she wanted. It would be fine.

But she said they should break up.

So all his stalling tactics became useless. 

He could only watch her back disappear down the corridor, her braided pigtails swaying with every step, taking away three years of his youth.

Jiang Yueming stayed there for a long time, until Mr. Zhou came to lock the classroom doors and found him.

When he was helped to his feet, he had already hardened his heart. 

Like someone smashing a cracked pot on purpose, he acted out of pure spite.

Break up?

Who did she think she was to say they should break up?

Who did she think she was to decide for him?

Who did she think she was to announce the end without even asking him?

Anger grew wildly inside him like weeds, smothering the heartache, smothering the confusion, smothering every soft emotion.

He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.

Fine.

You want to break up? Then let’s break up.

You think I can’t live without you?

You think Jiang Yueming can’t survive without you?

You think I have to go to the same university as you no matter what?

Fine.

You want me to go to Qingyuan, right?

Then I’ll go. I’ll show you.

***

In the end, the girl’s words worked.

They had been together for so long. Of course she understood Jiang Yueming.

Of course she knew he planned to secretly apply to Linxiang University and then show up on the first day of school with a cheeky grin, asking, “Surprised?”

She knew him too well.

She knew that if she didn’t block every path, if she didn’t push him to the edge, if she didn’t make him hate her, he would definitely make the “wrong” choice.

So she said they should break up.

She left cleanly, without looking back.

The weather that day was perfectly fitting. 

A light rain began to fall, making her figure as she walked home look especially lonely.

Kind-hearted passersby saw her walking alone in the rain and came over to ask if she needed help.

Her hair was soaked, her face was soaked, and her steps were unsteady. 

It was hard not to notice her.

She ignored them and kept walking straight ahead under their worried gazes.

When she reached a deserted corner, she looked up at the sky.

The sky was gray and overcast. Countless raindrops fell from it, smashing against her face and then sliding down.

How strange.

She reached up and touched her face.

Rainwater.

Why was the rainwater warm?

***

“What a tragic drama.”

A voice came from somewhere far away.

In front of the fragmented scene, Jiang Yueming turned his head. 

In the darkness, a figure was speaking to him.

He tried to see the figure clearly, but the darkness behind the person was too thick, completely enveloping him and leaving only a blurry outline.

“What do you think?”

The voice sounded very familiar. Jiang Yueming’s heart gave a violent thud.

He turned back again, as if he had risen ten thousand meters into the air and was now watching everything with eyes that didn’t belong to this world. 

He watched the girl with the braids crying in the rain.

“Who are you?”

The figure didn’t answer directly.

He took a step forward out of the darkness. His outline became a little clearer, but his face remained hidden in shadow. 

Jiang Yueming could only make out the general shape—half a head taller than him, shoulders a little broader.

“What do you think?” the person asked back.

Jiang Yueming didn’t know. 

“What… are you doing here?”

“To stop you from forgetting her completely.”

“What do you mean?”

The person didn’t answer. 

He simply turned and stood beside Jiang Yueming, facing the helpless girl together.

“Do you hate her?”

Jiang Yueming paused. 

He wanted to say he did, but he couldn’t.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” 

The person gave a soft laugh and shook his head. 

“That makes sense. You’re still young. What young person hasn’t done something childish and stupid?”

His voice carried the faint taste of memory, as if it had traveled through time.

“Any regrets?”

“…” Jiang Yueming didn’t answer.

The person continued on his own. “I definitely regret it, anyway.”

“You?” Jiang Yueming said. “Who exactly are you?”

“Who I am isn’t important,” he said. “I’m here to ask—if you were given another chance, what would you choose?”

“I…”

Jiang Yueming stared blankly at the girl. 

“I… wouldn’t be so childish anymore.”

The person patted his shoulder approvingly and pulled out a nonexistent cigarette from somewhere, lighting it.

“Good. You’ve grown up.”

Jiang Yueming felt a little irritated. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I’m here to tell you…” 

He exhaled a puff of smoke. 

“Since you’ve seen it, don’t make the same mistake again.”

Jiang Yueming turned to look at him. 

The person was standing very close now. 

To his horror, Jiang Yueming realized the man had almost exactly the same face as his own.

The only difference was that this version looked more mature, carried the weight of many stories, and had a faint scar beneath his brow bone—like a future version of himself.

“Do you know someone is stealing her place?” the older Jiang Yueming said.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” the man said. 

“Someone is replacing her, bit by bit, covering over the memories of her inside you and making you transfer those memories onto another person one by one.”

“Who?”

The man stayed silent, staring at Jiang Yueming with a deep, frightening gaze.

“Who do you think?”

The world suddenly began to fade, as if washed away by water. 

Colors disappeared little by little until everything dissolved into endless darkness.

The older Jiang Yueming’s figure started to fade as well. Just before he disappeared completely, he spoke one last sentence.

“Wake up!”

Darkness swallowed everything.

***

Jiang Yueming’s eyes snapped open. 

He was back at his familiar desk. 

He looked up. 

The homeroom teacher was still lecturing at the front of the class.

He had fallen asleep and had a very strange yet incredibly clear dream.

“What’s wrong with you?”

His deskmate’s voice came from the side, looking at him strangely.

Jiang Yueming blinked, then touched his face. It was wet with tears.

He looked down. 

At some point the Chinese textbook on his desk had been opened, and the line he had once seen there appeared in front of him again.

Don’t trust anyone.

It was written in his own handwriting.