Chapter 2
My ill-fated connection with He Fang went back twelve years.
My father moved us from a county town to the city.
He and He Fang’s father had served in the army together. After leaving the service, one soared while the other struggled.
My father was the one who struggled.
Life in the city was expensive. He drove a coach bus and barely made enough for us to get by.
As for why he insisted on living there, he said the schools were better and I would have a chance at university.
Housing was expensive too. Fortunately, He Fang’s father lent us a small apartment next door to theirs.
He Fang’s parents treated me wonderfully.
My father was often away. After school, I went to the He family for dinner.
He Fang and I practically ate, lived, and went to school together.
But he did not like me.
Most of He Fang’s friends were either attractive or came from prominent families.
I was a dark, chubby country bumpkin.
I insisted on trailing after him, and it annoyed him terribly.
Once, he deliberately abandoned me at an amusement park and I nearly got lost.
He took quite a beating for that.
He still had a scar on his backside.
It made him hate me even more, and he devised every possible way to torment me.
But I was silly back then.
I always thought He Fang was different from the boys back home.
He was so handsome and fair-skinned.
When he smiled, he seemed to sparkle.
No matter how he teased me, I stubbornly followed him everywhere.
By adolescence, that blind adoration had turned into a young girl’s first stirrings of love.
Looking back, He Fang had never tried to hide how much I annoyed him.
One spring, every flower on campus was in bloom.
His friends asked him which flower he liked best.
He Fang said, “I don’t have a favorite, only one I hate most. I hate gardenias. They’re cloyingly sweet and smell awful.”
As he spoke, he glanced at me from the corner of his eye.
My name was Wen Zhi, with the same character as gardenia.
He had said it for my benefit.
But I was slow. I still chattered his name all day and nearly drove him mad.
Then, in our final year of high school, one small thing happened.
I asked He Fang, “Where are you applying?”
He thought for a moment. “Beijing.”
Thrilled, I applied to schools in Beijing.
Only when the acceptance letters arrived did I learn the truth.
He Fang was going to Nanjing.
He had lied just to get away from me.
What a cruel truth.
During our first semester at university, He Fang never contacted me unless I reached out first.
He had his own life and his own circle of friends.
He excelled in his major and was even voted the most handsome guy on campus.
Every group photo he posted included gorgeous girls.
I visited him in Nanjing once.
His friends asked, “Fang, who’s the girl?”
He Fang said, “My father’s friend’s daughter.”
I froze.
After knowing each other for ten years, I did not even count as an ordinary friend.
My heart suddenly went cold.
But I could not accept giving up just like that.
I plotted for a long time. On New Year’s Eve during winter break, I pushed He Fang into bed.
We had both been drinking that night. He Fang could not hold his liquor and got drunk quickly.
I, however, was remarkably sober.
When I moved closer, he asked, “Wen Zhi, do you know what you’re doing?”
I shot back, “He Fang, do you know how long I’ve loved you?”
He fell silent.
When I reached for his buttons, he caught my wrist. It hurt.
I hissed, and tears welled in my eyes.
He Fang let go at once.
Guilt flashed in his eyes, though perhaps I imagined it.
Because right afterward, the bastard said, “Wen Zhi, you look hideous when you cry.”
“That’s all right. You’ll be crying soon too.”
My bold declaration proved useless. In the end, I was still the one who cried.
But He Fang was very gentle that night.
At the end, he held me and whispered, “I’m sorry I lied about my university application.”
I ignored him.
He twined my long hair around his fingers and sighed helplessly. “Don’t cry, Zhizhi. I’ll do graduate school in Beijing, okay?”
What did that have to do with me?
I had already decided to let him go.
Tonight was only about giving myself closure.
After being a fool for so many years, never having him even once felt like too much of a loss.
Once I had him, I would stop yearning for him.
The next morning, before He Fang woke, I ran away.
Oh, right.
He had paid for the hotel.
I did not want to owe him, so I split the bill and left him two hundred yuan.
But that gesture seemed to create a certain misunderstanding…
I deleted every way of contacting He Fang and cut him out of my life completely.
According to my best friend from high school, He Fang felt deeply humiliated and hunted for me everywhere.
He even came to my university.
Several times, without ever seeing me.
The visit I remembered most happened in May of sophomore year.
My roommate described it afterward.
He Fang had looked like a volcano on the verge of erupting, desperate to catch me and tear me apart.
He stopped my roommate and demanded, “Where did Wen Zhi run off to this time?!”
My roommate said, “What, you don’t know? Today is May twentieth.”
“She’s celebrating Lovers’ Day with her boyfriend.”
In that instant,
it was as though rain crashed from the sky and extinguished the volcano.
He Fang stood frozen for a very, very long time.