Chapter 22.1 - Ruo Zhi, Go for it! (1)
Luo Zhi was fiddling with her phone, the screen had long since dimmed, but she could still vaguely see the text message.
The first thought that crossed her mind was: Yes, of course, I'm angry. Very angry. Have you not noticed after three weeks?
The second thought was that the message seemed to carry a bit of intimacy. A small sense of happiness.
The third thought, however, was a little sad, feeling like she was being played with. Sheng Huainan wasn't a dull person. He's so smart; there's no way he just figured out she was angry after three weeks.
A woman's heart really twists and turns.
As she was lost in thought, Sheng Huainan's call came through.
She answered it.
"Did you skip class just like that?"
"Did you think I was carrying my bag to the bathroom?"
"The teaching assistant called the roll again."
"Impossible. He's not insane. Although he did look a bit clueless when he smiled earlier."
"Heh, yeah, you can't fool me."
And then, silence.
She leaned on the desk, enjoying the silence that seemed to have put Sheng Huainan in an awkward position. It felt like she had finally gotten back at him for their first meeting.
"I'm sorry." Sheng Huainan's voice was calm.
His calmness made her feel a bit embarrassed about her own complicated thoughts and high pride.
"Oh? What are you apologizing for this time?" Luo Zhi leaned closer to the receiver.
"I don't know." His laugh was a bit awkward.
Luo Zhi slowly exhaled. She was tired of this tug-of-war.
"Fine. I forgive you."
Sheng Huainan was silent for a while.
"Can I see you? I skipped class too."
"What about Zhang Mingrui?"
"He’s probably writing a program."
"Alright."
"It's 11 o'clock. Let me treat you to lunch, to make up for the last time."
"Okay."
"Can you wait for me? I want to drop off my computer at the dorm."
"Sure."
Luo Zhi leaned on the desk, glancing at the desk calendar.
Today was November 4th. It really was November 4th.
Again, November 4th. Four years. Luo Zhi opened her mouth in disbelief.
Her first diary entry was on November 4th, and every time she flipped through it, she started from that page, so she could almost recite the first paragraph by heart.
"11.4, clear
The grades for the midterm exams have finally been released, and the last subject to be graded was actually English, not Chinese. I took my test papers back to the classroom, and as I passed the Chinese office, the homeroom teacher suddenly stuck her head out and called me, saying, 'Luo Zhi, come here.'"
Luo Zhi closed her eyes. It really had been four years.
She had once followed him with such humble and cautious eyes, even though, in reality, she was an excellent and proud girl—at least in her own circle.
She had once climbed up to the top floor to read "New Concept 4" just because their English teacher would tease him and force him to memorize the lessons from the book.
She had once written a diary with only one theme. Every day, she walked behind him into the classroom, repeatedly describing the same things, until today, when she closed her eyes, she could still see his figure walking down the hallway, the morning light splitting it into evenly spaced shadows, swaying in her mind.
There had been a time when she accidentally walked in front of him and deliberately slowed down, hoping he would walk ahead of her. However, the moment he passed her, her heart felt as though it was dipped in cold water—his calm demeanor, his confident and persistent aura, and the stark contrast with her awkward, careful self, deeply mocked her in that fleeting moment.
