Liang Yifeng attending the school anniversary at the affiliated high school was enough to surprise all the school administrators present. After all, more than two months ago, the school leadership had already sent him countless emails inviting him, and every response had been the cold, curt “I won’t go.” After all, Liang Yifeng was not only the school’s largest sponsor but also the top scorer in the college entrance exams back in his day.
When the school leaders heard he was coming, they all rushed to the lobby of the main building to greet him.
Today, Liang Yifeng was in a genuinely good mood. He hardly showed any expression, standing calmly and indifferent among the crowd.
Later, their former class teacher approached. Seeing Liang Yifeng, she felt a small thrill of joy and glanced to the side uncertainly. “Is that… Zhong Nian?”
Liang Yifeng’s class teacher had not changed from their first to final year.
A woman in her forties, named Wen Wen, teaching Chinese. Teachers tend to favor the student who excels in their subject, and Wen Wen had always been particularly fond of Zhong Nian.
Back then, Zhong Nian’s Chinese scores were nearly unmatched.
In the first year, the full score was 120, and she could even get 115. At her age, most students wrote lyrical essays or narratives, but she insisted on argumentative essays. Her points and evidence were strong and persuasive, and all the teachers thought she would become famous in the college entrance exams.
But unexpectedly, she left after only half a year.
Wen Wen had always regretted it—such a promising student, gone abroad to fight the capitalist system.
Zhong Nian smiled faintly, “Teacher Wen.”
Wen Wen’s eyes welled up, “It really is Zhong Nian?”
Zhong Nian nodded. “It’s me.”
Wen Wen walked over and patted her shoulder and hair, sighing, “You’ve grown into quite a beauty.”
Seeing her former student inevitably stirred some excitement. The school administrators, interacting with Liang Yifeng, were tense all the while, afraid of saying something wrong, so one said, “Since your homeroom teacher is here, we’ll leave first, Mr. Liang.”
Liang Yifeng nodded emotionlessly, his gaze never leaving Zhong Nian.
Once the crowd dispersed, Zhong Nian relaxed a lot. She stood beside Teacher Wen, nodding and listening.
Teacher Wen sighed. “This is your first time back since graduation, right?”
Zhong Nian: “Yes.”
She glanced at Liang Yifeng. He nodded subtly.
Teacher Wen: “Oh Zhong Nian, when did you return to the country?”
Zhong Nian: “Just recently.”
Teacher Wen: “And what are you doing for work now?”
Zhong Nian: “I’m a journalist.”
Teacher Wen frowned. “A girl becoming a journalist? Long hours, little pay, and hardly any free time.”
Zhong Nian smiled and looked down at the steps beneath her feet. “Because I like it.”
“Oh, you… you have your own ideas. No one can interfere,” Teacher Wen said, leading them toward the office, opening the door while speaking. “You’re all grown up now… Zhong Nian, you should be thinking about marriage, right?”
Zhong Nian, accustomed to such conversations in the country, replied calmly, “No.”
Teacher Wen looked surprised. “If you meet the right person, you have to seize the chance.”
Educated people approach matchmaking subtly, unlike the neighbors back at Zhong’s place, who bluntly said: “At this age, if you don’t find someone, it’ll be too late. Before twenty-five, women choose men; after twenty-five, men choose women. Zhong Nian, you better hurry and marry someone you like.”
Some people drift with the tide, settling for a life of compromise. Zhong Nian smiled faintly at such talk. Words like wind passing by—heard and let go. Everyone has their own way of living.
After speaking with Zhong Nian, Teacher Wen began scolding Liang Yifeng. Although cold, Liang Yifeng respected his teachers and education. Teacher Wen was probably the only person in the world who would lecture him, since his parents never paid much attention.
Liang’s father had said: “Girls need to be taught properly; boys just need to live well.”
Teacher Wen: “You know, Zhong Nian, after you left, your seat stayed empty. At that time, a transfer student came in with no seat, so I asked her to sit next to Liang Yifeng. Guess what he did?”
Zhong Nian looked at him. “What?”
“He blocked her. Wouldn’t let her sit there.”
Liang Yifeng rubbed his forehead helplessly.
Teacher Wen continued: “I told him there were no seats left. Liang Yifeng looked at my podium and said, ‘Aren’t there still seats there?’ It drove me crazy.”
Zhong Nian lowered her gaze, smiling. Her eyes sparkled as if holding stars.
Liang Yifeng felt it wasn’t a big deal.
Teacher Wen reminisced with eyes half-closed. “He never let anyone take your seat. After graduation, he even packed up your things himself.”
Zhong Nian looked at Liang Yifeng. He looked back at her.
Sunlight filtered clearly through the blinds, casting a beam between them.
It was like a blade, slicing the space between them for a moment.
The world remained clear. They were so close that if they kissed the light, they could reach each other.
·
They left the office.
Zhong Nian’s pace was slow. Liang Yifeng, whether accommodating her pace or for other reasons, also walked slowly. They followed the corridor to the classroom they once attended.
Zhong Nian stopped at the front door and glanced inside.
The desks were neatly arranged, some piled with books, others empty. In truth, nothing had changed. The only difference was the people.
Liang Yifeng’s voice echoed in her ear: “Was it like this in England too?”
Zhong Nian hesitated, looking at him.
Liang Yifeng: “You didn’t sit like this over there, right?”
Zhong Nian realized: “No.”
Overseas classes were more complex. Each subject had ranking, with top students sitting together, mid-tier together, and lower-tier together, for tailored teaching.
Domestic exam-oriented education, however, treated everyone the same.
Zhong Nian lowered her eyes. “Why wouldn’t you let anyone else sit there? It’s just one seat.”
Liang Yifeng’s side profile was calm and precise. “Not used to it,” he said simply.
Around the corner were the stairs.
Liang Yifeng descended deliberately. Zhong Nian followed.
Sunlight filtered through the tall plane trees, scattering onto the ground.
Liang Yifeng’s feet crunched on fallen leaves. Zhong Nian kept her gaze downward, following the dappled light.
“Not used to it”—
That seemed like a very Liang Yifeng response.
But: “You’ll get used to it in a few days.”
Liang Yifeng, expressionless: “I won’t.”
Zhong Nian: “Why not?”
“Too noisy.”
“…”
Liang Yifeng glanced at her. “I like it quieter.”
Makes sense. No wonder when they shared a desk, he hadn’t refused.
“Then what happened?” Zhong Nian asked again.
“Hmm?”
“How did you carry my books back?”
They passed through the crowded main hall, through the bustling cafeteria.
Liang Yifeng glanced into the noisy cafeteria, eyes deep, either observing or recalling something.
School always evokes memories.
He thought for a moment. “Under the desk corner.”
“???”
Zhong Nian looked at him speechless. That was such a lame excuse.
She mentally scolded him: childish.
Liang Yifeng seemed to hear her thoughts. His thin lips pursed, asking sharply: “Got a problem with that?”
Zhong Nian mimicked his raised eyebrow gesture, looking at him coolly, chin raised: “How dare I.”
He chuckled, muttering softly: “Fool.”
There were too many people around. Zhong Nian didn’t hear him clearly, but her eyes curved under the sunlight, bright and lively, like a clear breeze through a mountain stream in the scorching June sun.
As they walked through the school, Liang Yifeng noticed something off about Zhong Nian.
He deliberately slowed his pace, a few steps behind her. Her walking posture was clearly unusual—slower than usual. The white skin of her ankles peeked out from under her cropped trousers, red and swollen.
Liang Yifeng reached out and held her. Zhong Nian stopped.
Liang Yifeng: “What’s wrong with your foot?”
Zhong Nian looked down casually. “The shoes don’t fit well. It’s fine.”
“Fine?!” Liang Yifeng blocked her. “Stop fooling around!”
He was genuinely angry, eyes serious, brows furrowed.
Zhong Nian: “I’ll pop the blisters tonight, it’ll be fine.” Running around for news often gave her blisters on her ankles. Today wasn’t from walking too much, but the new shoes pinched.
Liang Yifeng glanced around. “The infirmary is open.”
Zhong Nian: “Why go there?”
Liang Yifeng coldly: “To fix it.”
Zhong Nian grabbed him. “Then the shoes won’t fit after that.”
Liang Yifeng smirked. “You still want to walk today?”
“Hmm?” Zhong Nian didn’t understand.
Liang Yifeng stepped forward, bent down, right arm around her waist, left hand under her leg, effortlessly lifting her up.
Many students around couldn’t help but scream.
Zhong Nian’s cheeks flushed. She struggled: “What are you doing? Put me down!”
Liang Yifeng stopped walking, ignoring the teasing, looking at her calmly: “Are you sure?”
Zhong Nian: “I have feet. I can walk.”
Liang Yifeng raised an eyebrow, as if ready to toss her down.
“Hey—” she instinctively looped her arms around his neck.
Liang Yifeng, the picture-perfect gentleman, said: “Weren’t you going to walk?”
Zhong Nian gritted her teeth, smiling: “Throw me down?”
Liang Yifeng: “You don’t get a choice.”
Zhong Nian: “Why not?”
“Because the decision is mine.”
Zhong Nian: “…”
Nonsense!
Liang Yifeng raised an eyebrow: “Two options. First, I throw you down and you hobble over like a cripple; second, I carry you over.”
Zhong Nian: “Put me down.”
Liang Yifeng: “Not an option.”
“One, I choose one.” Zhong Nian refused to lose face.
A hint of disappointment flashed in his eyes. Seconds later, he lifted her, saying ambiguously: “I choose two.”
Zhong Nian: “Liang Yifeng, you—”
“Hmm?” He looked at her frankly.
Two idioms came to mind describing him:
Shameless;
Refined rogue.
Liang Yifeng carried her toward the infirmary. Cameras clicked around them, but she, accustomed to staying low-key, buried her head in his chest, her breath warm on his collarbone.
She gritted her teeth, muttering a description of him: “Gentleman… beast.”