The Time Forced to Pause, His Quiet Encouragement
The Love Left Unspoken
13
That scorching afternoon, the red rubber track gave off a burnt smell under the blazing sun, punctuated every so often by the crack of a starting pistol.
The sky was cloudless. A number tag was pinned to my chest, and the skin exposed to the sun was burnt red.
In middle school, I'd participated in a sports meet once because I ran fast, but midway through the race, a girl in the adjacent track shoved me hard. I scraped a huge patch of skin off my knee.
The red track rubber mixed with blood jarred my mind. I've been faint at the sight of blood since I was young, and I fainted right there on the field.
After that, I never participated in a sports meet again.
That incident seemed to have become a psychological hurdle—every time I stood at the starting line, I'd recall that day.
I hadn't signed up for the high school sports meet, but that day a girl in our class sprained her ankle, and nobody else was willing to fill in. After an internal struggle, I decided to participate. It was urgent—I had to temporarily set aside this psychological shadow of mine.
I stood at the starting line with a furrowed brow, feeling dizzy looking at the red track.
With a bang, the race began. I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and ran. In that split second it felt like I was a fish on dry land—while running, everything in the outside world blurred away. Only the track before me and the wind whistling past my ears existed.
By the middle of the race, I had no energy left. Then I heard a male voice say, "Keep going!"
It felt close enough to touch.
I gritted my teeth and finally pushed through.
The moment my body crossed the finish line, I seemed to have used up every last ounce of strength and collapsed into Tang Jia's arms, who caught me.
After coming back to my senses, I looked back toward where I'd heard the voice, trying to find its source—but there was nothing there.
Now I finally understand.
The voice I heard back then was probably his.
I covered my face with both hands, wiping away the tears.
During those years, unafraid of wind or rain, burning with youthful passion, there was someone who silently stood by me for so long.
"May 7, 2019—Light Rain—Tuesday"
It rained. Lately I've been listening to Jay Chou's "Orchid Pavilion."
The rain patter on banana leaves, pattering through several more nights.
I wait for spring thunder.
To remind you who you love.
"May 11, 2019—Cloudy—Saturday"
Today the arts and sciences track selection forms were handed out.
Our homeroom teacher had already assumed our whole class would choose science.
In this position.
It seems like nothing is up to us.
People always default to the optimal solution.
I stopped the teacher, wanting to say something.
Ryan patted my shoulder.
He said it's not like we're parting forever.
Nothing to be sad about.
He's right.
I just felt a bit melancholy.
Maybe... I won't even be able to see your answer sheets anymore.
"May 20, 2019—Sunny—Monday"
Saw you at the flag-raising ceremony. Still bobbing your head around. As long as you're happy.
"May 30, 2019—Sunny—Thursday"
Your face has gotten rounder. Looks like you've been eating well.
"June 1, 2019—Sunny—Saturday"
Little Bea.
Happy Children's Day!
"June 4, 2019—Sunny—Tuesday"
Today the seniors were liberated.
Tearing up their books from the academic building.
Shredded paper fluttering through the air.
I grabbed a handful—it was their fleeting youth. What about ours?
The principal caught them and gave them a stern scolding, putting a stop to it.
Watching them, it felt like they graduated in the blink of an eye.
Will our three years also pass that quickly?
So quickly that we never truly got to know each other before it all ends.
Life is subtraction—you see someone one time fewer with every meeting.
Blanket Girl, I've seen you many times, but you've never known me. In these memories, only I know you.
The entire memoir, and only I am the one playing it back.
I really want to read my love aloud to you with my eyes closed.
I let my tears fall, curled up in a corner, eyes closed, my fingers delicately tracing the impressions on the paper.
Lucas, I heard your love.
"June 7, 2019—Cloudy—Friday"
First day of the college entrance exam. It's also the Dragon Boat Festival. I don't know if you had zongzi. I know how to make zongzi. I wish I had the chance to bring some for you.
But there's no chance anymore.
"June 9, 2019—Sunny—Sunday"
They finished their exams. I was looking at the fourth-floor balcony from the corridor and saw you packing up your things. Don't carry so many books at once. Be careful not to trip again.
"June 10, 2019—Sunny—Monday"
I did the 2019 exam questions. They were okay. Not too hard.
"June 15, 2019—Heavy Rain—Saturday"
It's pouring. You always walk around looking in every direction. I don't know if you slipped and fell.
"June 17, 2019—Sunny—Monday"
Did you cut your bangs a bit shorter?
"June 19, 2019—Sunny—Wednesday"
I ran into you on the street.
I'm so used to seeing you in school uniform.
At first I thought I misidentified you.
Hmm, you're pretty no matter what.
That bookstore you went to—I go there often too.
If only I'd known you sooner.
14
The bookstore he mentioned must be the Huacheng Bookstore on Kang'an Street.
That bookstore was right across from my middle school.
The shop was tiny—the narrow aisles only had room for one person, and the rest of the space was crammed with books.
But the owner was very handsome and refined. We'd all squeeze into the little shop stealing glances at him.
His wife was also very elegant and gentle—the two of them were a perfect match.
Even after starting high school, I still never tired of taking bus number 15 for twelve stops to buy books there.
During high school, every weekend I'd use buying books as an excuse to go hang out on Kang'an Street, then order a milk tea at the shop next to the bookstore.
I'd only ever buy one copy of "Those Things About the Ming Dynasty" at a time.
Because I couldn't afford the whole set.
So I'd save up my weekly allowance and go back when I had enough.
And that's how I gradually bought the complete set—nine volumes in total.
They're still on my bookshelf at home.
"July 10, 2019—Sunny—Wednesday"
Ran into you at the school store after second evening study.
After a whole day of grinding through problems.
My exhaustion was instantly swept away.
Theo laughed at me again.
Saying you're some kind of miracle cure.
"July 20, 2019—Cloudy—Saturday"
Been reviewing lately. Haven't written in my diary in a while. Haven't seen you either.
"July 22, 2019—Sunny—Monday"
Final exam today.
I'm giving you all my luck.
Blanket Girl will definitely do well on the track-placement exam.
Don't be afraid.
"July 26, 2019—Sunny—Friday"
Results are out. I checked your class's first. You did pretty well. Tenth in your class, and a decent rank in the liberal arts grade. Should be able to get into a good class.
Tomorrow's the start of summer break again.
It feels like at some unknown point.
Even holidays stopped being something to look forward to.
These next twenty or so days.
Running into you is like winning the lottery.
Our final exam of first year determined which class we'd be placed in. Fortunately, I did quite well that time—though I didn't make it into the top class, I still got into a pretty good one.
I remember being so happy, sitting in my dad's car, proudly flaunting my grades.
"August 7, 2019—Sunny—Qixi Festival (Chinese Valentine's Day)"
A bridge of magpies spans the vast Milky Way, a thousand pendants of jade chime through the air. There are travelers who have endured years apart, wistfully gazing at the Cowherd Star.
"August 10, 2019—Cloudy—Saturday"
Been practicing my handwriting lately. Looking back at my earlier diary entries now. My handwriting was really messy. Bea.
"August 12, 2019—Sunny—Monday"
My aunt brought my cousin over to our house.
I heard her telling my mom that my cousin had fallen for a girl at this critical juncture of his third year of middle school.
I instinctively set down the book in my hand.
Looked up at my cousin, who was still in ninth grade.
My aunt was furiously scolding him.
He looked both defiant and downcast.
My aunt enviously said to my mom.
If only my cousin could be as well-behaved as me.
My mom just gave a polite, perfunctory smile and said.
Let the kids handle their own affairs. They're old enough to know what matters.
I caught the underlying meaning in my mom's words.
It wasn't shocking, but it was still somewhat unexpected.
I'd always thought that in my mom's eyes, everything besides work was dust.
Had she actually been paying attention to me?
I didn't know what love was before.
I didn't understand why, even when school rules forbade it.
Even when parents disapproved.
There would still be an endless stream of people willing to take all kinds of risks just to hold the hand of the person beside them.
Now I think I understand a little.
People live in this world with seven emotions and six desires, with love, hate, infatuation, and obsession.
All the rules in the world tell you to restrain yourself.
But the heart cannot be caged.
Flowers bloom regardless of season; spring arrives as promised.
I slowly closed my book, took one more look at my cousin who was hanging his head.
Then looked at my aunt, who was still talking nonstop.
I said to her.
I said.
Auntie, I have someone I like too.
I like them so much that no one can replace them.
After hearing what I said, my mom silently took a sip of tea.
But smiled without saying a word.
Blanket Girl.
Even though you didn't hear it.
But I'm glad I didn't shrink back and avoid it this time.
Add one stroke to the character for "eye."
Add a vertical line through the character for "field."
And you get the word for "freedom."