March 1, 2017

Shen Nianci, after a ton of internal wrestling, decided to finally confess her feelings for Li Yingze. But blurting it out was just too nerve-wracking, so she came up with a game instead. They agreed to leave the initials of their crushes on each other's QQ profiles. Shen Nianci boldly left "LYZ" (Li Yingze), but time hadn't been kind to Li Yingze's response. All she could remember was that it was three letters, either "XZY" or "YZL," and her memory failed her completely on what he actually said. In the fog of her recollection, she thought he maybe needed some time to figure things out, but a month passed with crickets.

April 4, 2017

Just a hair past April Fool's Day and landing on a lucky weekend, Shen Nianci cornered Li Yingze. He clutched his backpack strap nervously, a silent follower on her extended walk. Shen Nianci's stomach churned – she still desperately craved an answer.

Teenage angst, she thought. Blurting things out was a social suicide mission at their age. So, after what felt like an eternity of deliberation, she went with a softer approach. "Zeze," she started, using the nickname only she dared to call him. It was a small but intimate detail, a hint that maybe, just maybe, she held a special place in his world too.

Shen Nianci stared ahead, waiting for Li Yingze's answer. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until a barely audible "Mmm" escaped his lips. Shyness or indifference? It was hard to tell. No matter, she was just relieved he didn't shut her down. A giddy bounce filled her steps as she walked on, stealing glances back at him.

Their dynamic was strange. Li Yingze used to trail behind her by a half-step, and now, the tables had turned. Maybe, subconsciously, things were shifting.

Right now, though, her heart soared. Like a lost fawn reunited with its mother, a wave of relief washed over her. Every step felt lighter, the chirping birds a joyous chorus celebrating her newfound hope.

But the sunshine couldn't last.

In just a week, less than seven days to be exact, Li Yingze posted a cryptic message on his QQ profile:

"Actually, being alone isn't so bad..." followed by those dreaded ellipses.

Shen Nianci's blood ran cold as she stood frozen by the school gates, phone clutched in her hand. Panic surged, and she frantically messaged him on QQ, blurting out "I'm sorry" followed by a string of desperate pleas.

Looking back, she often regretted it. Maybe he wasn't the one pushing for a break-up, but her apology gave him an easy way out.

Why the apology?

Wracked with the need to see him that day, she'd loaded up on fruit and waited by the bus stop from noon until six pm, but he was a no-show.

Fuming, she hated waiting around. The specifics of her message were lost to memory, overshadowed by the helpless ache that clenched her heart at his post.

Later, regret gnawed at her. Maybe he had a real emergency that day, stuck somewhere and stewing in his own frustration. Getting slammed with accusatory messages wouldn't exactly calm anyone down. Nobody likes being misunderstood and blamed on a bad day.

Maybe she was just clinging to straws, desperate for a graceful exit of her own.

What was holding her back, anyway?

The next weekend, she stationed herself along his usual route.

She spotted him in the distance and her first instinct was to tun away. So, she snagged a friend and diverted their course towards his school.

Li Yingze slowed down, tailing her until they reached a crossroads. There, he caught up, but before he could say anything, Shen Nianci blurted something out (the details lost to memory). All she remembered was Li Yingze buying her a jasmine tea, a bottle that still sat on her shelf, long past its expiration date – a dusty reminder, perhaps, of more than just expired tea.

Their conversations dwindled, but whenever their paths crossed, Li Yingze would noticeably slow down. Was he following her, or was it just a coincidence that they shared the same route? The answer remained a mystery.

Fall of 2017 arrived, and with it, news that Li Yingze's school, a branch of Shen Nianci's old middle school, was slated for demolition and relocation – right back to her current school.

Overjoyed, Shen Nianci spent the weeks leading up to the opening day consumed by a single prayer: to see him.

Lady Luck was on her side. As she walked past Li Yingze, she could practically feel his gaze burning into her back. Too nervous to turn around directly, she waited until he looked away, then snuck a peek from behind, keeping a safe distance.

It was like a bizarre game – every time Li Yingze glanced back, there she was. This happened after school, during breaks, even on their way to school in the mornings.

Not long after the new semester began, the ninth-graders, including Li Yingze, had a mandatory fifteen-minute detention after evening self-study. Shen Nianci, a year ahead as a tenth-grader, had to stay for thirty. One evening, on a whim, she blurted out an invitation: "Want to come to the sports field?" To her surprise, Li Yingze readily agreed.

Winter was creeping in by then.

It was like fate was playing a game. Their classrooms, both on the fourth floor, formed a perfect right angle by the windows. This meant that unintentionally, they could see each other throughout the day – studying, napping, daydreaming, or diligently taking notes.

That particular evening, Shen Nianci couldn't tear her eyes away. Unlike everyone else who bolted back to the dorms to freshen up, Li Yingze lingered in the classroom.

The hopeful part of her brain screamed that he was waiting for her to finish her class. But a more cynical voice – probably closer to reality – whispered that he was probably just hitting the books a bit longer. Denial was strong, though, and she clung to the belief that he was waiting.

Shen Nianci was stuck with cleaning duty that night, stationed under her dorm building. Every few minutes, her gaze darted through the window to the ninth-grade classroom, a single light illuminating a lone figure inside. With a burst of efficiency, she finished her chores and raced downstairs, staking out a spot to wait. Finally, the light flickered off, footsteps descended the stairs, and Li Yingze emerged into view.

He approached, and Shen Nianci fell into step beside him. A brisk winter chill hung in the air, the vast sports field deserted. But the cold couldn't faze her; a thrilling mix of nervousness and excitement bubbled within her.

The specifics of their conversation that night were lost to memory. They spent most of their time in a comfortable silence, exchanging only a few words. Still, a silent truce seemed to have been called. As they parted ways, Shen Nianci reminded him, "Don't forget to accept my friend request."

Their fingers brushed as they walked, sending a jolt through her that still lingered in her memory. Li Yingze's reply was a noncommittal hum, which she optimistically interpreted as a good sign.

Elated, she walked him back to his dorm before heading to her own. Later that night, her phone buzzed with a long message from Li Yingze. The specifics were lost to time, but one line stuck out:

"I don't deserve your affection."

The irony was sharp. Just the afternoon before, she'd returned a notebook she'd "borrowed" – filled with everything she'd been longing to tell him. He skimmed it in minutes, a stark contrast to the lengthy message he sent later.

Li Yingze's long message was a jumbled mess now, lost to the fog of time. His words, his feelings – everything remained stubbornly opaque. Was it time to revisit those memories, or sweep them under the rug?

Shen Nianci became his constant shadow. Whether he was heading home, back to the dorm, or just to class, she'd find a way to walk beside him. At first, it felt sweet, a new routine. But as weeks turned into months, the dynamic shifted. Li Yingze's once-frequent glances back dwindled, and eventually stopped altogether. He no longer looked up at their classroom building as he left the dorm.

One memory from April 2018 stuck out in her mind, sharp and insistent. Refusing to give up, Shen Nianci decided to make one last attempt. It was a Saturday morning during study hall. She approached the teacher, a slightly pudgy man in his early thirties with a deceptively stern face. Taking a deep breath, she requested a leave of absence.

The teacher followed her outside.

"What's the reason for the leave?" he inquired.

The question sent her mind scrambling – the details of that day had faded, overshadowed by a single, vivid image of him.

A flicker of movement caught her eye. Li Yingze was staring at her from his seat. At first, she dismissed it as a trick of the light. But she snuck a couple more glances, just to be sure. Yep, there he was, watching her. It was hard to believe, not because she doubted him, but because she simply couldn't allow herself to hope.

The bell marking the end of study hall practically sent her sprinting back to the dorm. She threw a few things into a bag, heart hammering in her chest, and raced to the school gates. Missing him was not an option.

Thankfully, her frantic dash wasn't in vain. She spotted Li Yingze and his friends exiting the school grounds. Taking a deep breath, she trailed behind them discreetly.

Li Yingze kept glancing back over his shoulder, and Shen Nianci followed nervously. Then, abruptly, he flagged down a passing bus. Before stepping aboard, he threw a glance in her direction – a look loaded with meaning that sent a wave of flutters through her. It wasn't exactly a social butterfly she was – hailing a bus to get off was a whole ordeal in itself.

Mustering all her courage, she hopped on the bus a few stops behind Li Yingze. It was already packed, forcing her to take a cramped seat on the raised platform behind the driver. The ride wouldn't even last twenty minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

She could practically feel Li Yingze's gaze burning into her back, but she was too nervous to look up. This silent exchange continued until the bus rolled into the station. Shen Nianci bolted out first, catching a glimpse of Li Yingze standing as she exited.

He followed close behind. Lost in thought, Shen Nianci kept walking, Li Yingze's footsteps echoing slightly behind her. The sound of his clothes rustling with each step was a dead giveaway to his proximity. As they crossed a narrow bridge, a wave of regret washed over her. Taking a deep breath, Shen Nianci broke the silence. "Zeze," she began cautiously, "are you still upset about yesterday?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Li Yingze's confusion was genuine, or at least that's what Shen Nianci hoped. From his response, it seemed he genuinely didn't hold yesterday's events against her.

Back then, Shen Nianci could be pretty impulsive. Once, during Li Yingze's class lunch break, she'd boldly snuck into their classroom to deliver some goodies, much to the class monitor's disapproval. Li Yingze was there too, of course. She'd seen him skip lunch and, in a burst of misplaced initiative, bought him bread and milk. Turns out, he hated milk.

This was the incident Shen Nianci was referring to. Li Yingze, ever the pacifier, dismissed her worries.

"Don't sweat it," he said. "That's just how our class monitor is."

Relief washed over Shen Nianci, replaced by a sudden boldness. "Maybe you could, uh, keep some distance from her?" she blurted out.