Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The day I moved, Beicheng saw its first rain of the year.

My new place was a sprawling flat with a river view. Workers from the renovation company scurried back and forth across the living room, and cardboard boxes were stacked high like a wall. My assistant asked if I wanted to get rid of all the old junk. Sitting on the sofa and looking at the pile of boxes, I suddenly felt a wave of irritation. I raised a finger and pointed to the one in the far corner.

“Keep that one.”

The box was old, the sealing tape long since yellowed, and the corners were slightly warped from moisture. On top was a line of delicate, elegant handwriting.

“Miscellaneous items. Do not discard.”

I froze for a moment.

I recognized that handwriting. I recognized it all too well.

Lin Wan’s writing was always like this-the strokes were light, but the finishes were steady. She was just like her handwriting; she didn’t have much of a presence, but when things got tough, she was more composed than anyone.

I crouched down to open the box. Inside was a pile of old contracts, receipts, competition certificates from university, and a dark gray scarf that I had long since forgotten buying. Beneath the scarf lay a dark blue hardcover notebook.

Nothing was written on the cover.

I flipped to the first page.

“September 12, 2016. Sunny.

School started today. Shen Du is sitting in the row in front of me.

When he turned around to borrow a pen, he smiled. I suddenly feel like these four years of university might be very long.”

My fingers stopped on that line of text, unmoving for a long time.

The rain outside was heavy, and someone in the living room was talking about how to move the tiles, but it felt as if I had been suddenly thrust back into the past. All I could hear was the sound of my own increasingly heavy breathing.

I continued to flip through the pages.

The second page, the third, the fourth.

Every single page had my name on it.

Sometimes it was just a sentence.

Sometimes it was an entire page.

“He wore a white shirt today.”

“He forgot his wristbands on the bleachers again while playing ball.”

“He complained that the soup on the second floor of the cafeteria was too bland, so I secretly grabbed an extra packet of pepper for him.”

My throat felt as if it were blocked by something, and my chest felt tight. It wasn’t exactly pain, but a dull ache that had arrived many years too late-like someone was taking a hammer and striking my bones, over and over again.

I flipped toward the end. The paper was noticeably older and softer, with frayed edges.

On the very last page, the handwriting was crooked.

It looked as if the person holding the pen no longer had any strength left.

“Chemotherapy hurt so much today.

When the nurse reinserted the needle, I couldn’t help it; I cried after all. But as soon as I think of him, I feel like I can hold on a little longer.

Shen Du, in our next life, how about you be the one to like me?”

My hands began to tremble.

Just then, my phone chimed. The screen lit up with a message from my new girlfriend, Wen Muning.

“7:00 PM. Don’t be late.”

I stared at those words, and I suddenly remembered that three years ago, someone else had sent me a message too.

That message was very short.

My reply to her had also been very short.

So short that every time I thought of it later, it felt like a slap across the face.