Chen Nian’s cat, Lulu, was found on the street below his apartment building.
At that time, he wasn’t married to Li Yixun yet; they were still living together in his small apartment. One day, Li Yixun went downstairs to the supermarket, but shortly after leaving, she called him, saying there was a newborn kitten on the street below, barely alive, and she wanted to take it to the vet, asking him to come down and drive.
Chen Nian could already hear the sobbing in her voice; he knew she must have had an allergic reaction to the kitten. He quickly went downstairs and asked her to put the kitten down.
“I’ll take it to the vet. You go home, take a shower, and give it allergy medication.” Chen Nian forcefully picked up the kitten and drove to the vet.
After treating the kitten, the vet told him it needed to stay in the hospital for observation for a while. Chen Nian went home and truthfully told Li Yixun the outcome.
Li Yixun was worried about the kitten’s future: “What should I do? I can’t keep a cat, and I don’t know if it will be well treated if I give it away.”
“I really want to give it a home.”
Chen Nian was worried that Li Yixun might have an allergic reaction to cats, so he took on the task of finding a home for the kitten: “I’ll handle it.”
But finding a home for a very ordinary calico cat that Chen Nian could accept was no easy task. He had considered giving it to his mother, but remembering Qi Hui’s heartbreak when Tuotuo left, he gave up on that idea. He also considered boarding the cat at a pet shelter, but the pictures of the facilities weren’t particularly satisfactory; the space was too cramped for the cat.
Perhaps his guilt towards Tuotuo transferred to this frail kitten, coupled with Li Yixun’s words, “I want to give it a home,” and Chen Nian inexplicably decided to adopt the cat.
Chen Nian was also surprised; since Tuotuo returned to Cat Planet, he thought he would never again actively interact with cats. He didn’t tell Li Yixun this news. She loved kittens so much that even though she couldn’t physically pet them, she still enjoyed virtual cat-watching online every day. He was afraid that if she knew he had adopted a cat, she would be unable to resist going to see it and triggering another allergic reaction.
So he secretly kept the kitten at the company, developing a habit of cleaning himself of cat hair every time he came home, but he never told her.
After meeting Li Yixun, Chen Nian’s life seemed to spiral out of control. Unexpected events kept happening, like Li Yixun, whom he had cared for like a younger sister for many years, suddenly confessing her feelings to him; his own surging, confused, unfamiliar, and uncontrollable emotions; and how he secretly adopted a kitten simply because of something she said.
Chen Nian received Li Yixun’s confession not long after receiving his acceptance letter from Z University.
Perhaps realizing that Chen Nian no longer needed to take the college entrance exam and could leave school at any time, girls at school who liked him emboldened themselves to make their moves, and Chen Nian politely but distantly accepted many love letters.
“I don’t understand… the college entrance exam is only a few months away, and instead of focusing on their studies, they’re indulging in teenage romance. Isn’t that a waste of time?” Chen Nian, clearly lacking the sensitivity to understand teenage feelings, secretly complained to Xue Qingkai.
Xue Qingkai and his friends, however, thought he was being arrogant, just showing off his popularity in various ways.
Chen Nian didn’t defend himself. He genuinely wasn’t good at, nor did he want to, handle these precious emotions. To him, love was a sad taboo; hearing the word reminded him of his mother’s desperate and crazed face. His future marriage plans were a business arrangement, not a union based on love.
Chen Nian didn’t expect that in the following days, Li Yixun, his childhood friend, would also join in the fun.
It was a snow-white envelope, with his name written on it in his most familiar handwriting.
Chen Nian couldn’t believe it. That handwriting had repeatedly appeared in the math problems he privately corrected, usually accompanied by his own messy yet neat handwriting—his correct solution steps.
“Is today April Fool’s Day?” Chen Nian asked with a forced smile, his usually smiling, peach-blossom eyes now filled with seriousness.
He hoped it was a joke; Li Yixun understood his gaze and body language.
But she hid her trembling hands behind her back, her long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings, and still earnestly uttered the words she had repeated countless times in her heart: “I like you, Chen Nian.”
That was one of the few moments of helplessness Chen Nian had experienced in his eighteen years.
Although flustered, Chen Nian remained remarkably rational, repeatedly rehearsing his words in his mind, selecting the most suitable rejection to say to his childhood sweetheart, whom he couldn’t bear to hurt.
But rejection itself was a cruel form of hurt.
His childhood sweetheart, whom he had always treated like a younger sister, still wore that sad, forced, and awkward smile, making him feel her pain as well, as if his breathing became difficult. She gracefully said it was okay and told him that she had expected it, but was still a little sad.
Chen Nian’s hand, holding the envelope, clenched slightly. He wanted to hug her, but it seemed inappropriate, so he forced himself to hold back, his arm bulging with veins from the effort.
He couldn’t help but want to say something more, but Li Yixun turned away briskly, her tone as indifferent as if she were telling him to remember to do his homework: “Just burn this letter for me, thank you!”
Chen Nian, of course, didn’t burn it. With mixed feelings, he hid away in a secluded spot and opened it.
This letter wasn’t even a traditional love letter. Aside from his name on the envelope and its resemblance to a love letter, the contents had nothing to do with love letters; even if the homeroom teacher confiscated it, there wouldn’t be anything wrong with it.
On that piece of paper, which looked like it had been carelessly torn from some scrapbook, his name was written eleven times in his familiar handwriting.
At that moment, Chen Nian’s dulled senses suddenly clicked.
She hadn’t written any words expressing her love, but even someone as emotionally clumsy as he understood.
When you like someone, their name is the shortest incantation.
All sweet words begin with this one sentence.
Understanding the unspoken meaning behind it, Chen Nian felt even more heartbroken and powerless; he couldn’t reciprocate such feelings. They had known each other for so many years; she was a very important part of his youth. He only hoped she would be his good friend, and she could only ever be his good friend.
It’s unclear who distanced themselves first.
By the time Chen Nian realized Li Yixun hadn’t been around for a long time, spring had arrived in Shenhai City, and his classmates were busy preparing for the college entrance exams in May.
After Chen Nian stopped going to school, he had a lot of free time. He went to the basketball court to play basketball, to the library to study, and even spent half a month backpacking alone to that snow-covered plateau city at an altitude of 3700 meters.
In the dilapidated post office on the plateau, Chen Nian, unusually patient, wrote postcards to his friends and mother in Shenhai City, sending blessings and greetings across mountains and seas.
The postcard for Li Yixun was the last one, and also his favorite in the stack. It depicted a golden mountain bathed in sunlight, brimming with brilliance and romance.
Chen Nian pondered for a long time, unable to decide what to write. So long that the post office staff lost patience and urged him on, Chen Nian finally wrote, stroke by stroke, “Peace and good fortune, Tashi Delek.”
She always complained that his handwriting was too messy and illegible, so whenever he showed her his notes, he subconsciously tried to write neatly.
He hoped that this time she wouldn’t secretly criticize his handwriting behind his back, he thought to himself.
Before handing the postcard to the staff member, he couldn’t help but confirm again, “Can you understand what I’ve written?”
The person rolled their eyes, looking at him like he was an idiot, and replied in broken Mandarin, “I can’t understand it, we use Tibetan here.”
Chen Nian then belatedly realized he had offended someone and quickly apologized.
Whether Li Yixun received the postcard or not, Chen Nian had no idea.
The torrent of time easily swept people apart, and he and Li Yixun’s relationship had become something that only existed in their phone contacts.
That year, WeChat didn’t even exist yet. Chen Nian only occasionally glimpsed traces of her activity through the posts of mutual classmates and friends on QQ Space, gaining a few bits of information about her.
She took the college entrance exam… She didn’t go to the graduation dinner… She worked during the summer vacation…
Li Yixun’s QQ Space was locked, and Chen Nian didn’t even bother to clear the access history.
As graduation brought them apart, mutual friends and classmates lost touch with her… until Chen Nian completely lost contact with her. Finally, he stopped being stubborn and admitted in his heart that he truly loved her.
Before Li Yixun confessed, he only knew she was important to him, someone he didn’t want to lose. He thought she was just as important as a good friend, as important as a younger sister, but he never expected to toss and turn all night, unable to sleep after receiving the confession. When he finally started dreaming, it was a dream filled with eroticism.
He was shocked to find that the female protagonist’s face suddenly became concrete.
It became a delicate face he knew all too well. In his dream, she was no longer aloof and shy; she wore a white shirt and a plaid skirt, her posture proactive and alluring.
Upon waking, he smelled a certain peculiar fishy odor. Chen Nian felt utterly disgusted with himself, even slapping himself a few times.
After having such dreams several times, even the obtuse Chen Nian realized that this wasn’t the kind of longing he should have for a friend, for a younger sister. His heart feigned deafness, yet his subconscious had already unearthed his desires.
But Chen Nian still did nothing, nor did he intend to, letting the two of them drift away like messages in a bottle disappearing into the sea, lost to each other.
Love, in the end, would vanish like a dream, revealing its ugly and hideous side. Chen Nian was unwilling and did not want to see that day. The moment he witnessed the shattering of his parents’ illusion of love, he no longer believed in love, and even less believed he would be an exception.
To love someone is to shed all your hard armor, to lay bare your softest heart and offer it to them, then be like a lamb to the slaughter, unaware of fate, unaware of the future.
Chen Nian denied the possibility of loving someone; he was unwilling, even terrified of such a moment.
Because he was afraid of being hurt nd afraid of hurting others, Chen Nian directly rejected the beginning of love.
He would calm these emotions; he had always been adept at lying low and enduring, Chen Nian convinced himself.
But no one had told Chen Nian that emotions suppressed by reason only lead to two outcomes: either eventually forgetting the person, or erupting in revenge.
Chen Nian’s first sign of losing control of his emotions came at the bar when he saw Li Yixun whispering and flirting with a young man.
Even though they hadn’t seen each other for over two years, he easily spotted her in the crowd. He repeatedly checked to confirm it was her, the real her, not a drunken hallucination or a dream.
He had deliberately avoided inquiring about her, unaware that she was studying in the same city as him, and unaware that she even had a boyfriend who was just as handsome as him.
He couldn’t describe how he felt seeing her intimate with someone else—jealousy, sadness, joy, anger—a complex mix of emotions overwhelmed him, making him almost unable to hold his glass. He stared blankly at that figure, completely forgetting why he had come to the bar in the first place.
After noticing Li Yixun leave his seat, he uncontrollably followed, gazing at the slender figure from a distance.
In the darkness, he was like the world’s most sinister voyeur, greedily seeking only a sliver of light. Chen Nian despised his own act of spying, bitterly condemning himself, unable to understand how he had fallen so low.
Just one meeting, just one, that’s enough. He heard the devil within him calling in an alluring voice.
He lit a cigarette, trying to steady his trembling hands and heart pounding, but inadvertently glanced up and met the gaze of the figure in the mirror.