#4: Meeting to Illuminate Each Other

“Guess who this is?” Lin Zhiyi held his phone up in front of Xinbao.

Xinbao glanced at it briefly and said, “Isn’t that Lin Zhiyi?”

“How did you know it was me?” he asked, clearly delighted, not minding that his daughter had called him by his name.

“You look just like him! Except you’re not wearing glasses,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“Then tell Daddy, did Daddy look handsome back then?”

“Hmm...” The little girl rested her chin on her hand, pretending to think deeply.

“How can you hesitate about something so obvious?” Lin Zhiyi said smugly.

“Pretty handsome. Better-looking than Mom’s old photos. Mom used to have such a baby face!”

“...” I couldn’t help but feel a bit offended. How could their conversation somehow end up with me getting dragged into it?

I set down the book I was reading and walked over to see which photo they were discussing.

“My sister was cleaning out some old things at home today and found a picture I sent her from college,” Lin Zhiyi explained as he handed me the phone.

On the screen was a young man with delicate features, wearing a light beige T-shirt and sky-blue jeans, standing in front of an artificial lake on campus. His eyes were slightly squinted as he looked at the camera, no smile on his face, as if burdened by countless thoughts.

This version of Lin Zhiyi felt both familiar and distant to me. Familiar because I recognized his appearance, but distant because his demeanor was entirely different from the man he is now. In the photo, he looked youthful and naive, like a high school student fresh out of military training.

I glanced at Lin Zhiyi beside me, then back at the photo, and sighed. “Youth is such a beautiful thing. You didn’t have the refined air you do now, but you were definitely quite handsome.”

“This was the first time I ever took a photo voluntarily. I turned twenty that year and wanted to commemorate it,” Lin Zhiyi said.

“That’s nice. I have a similar photo too. Not long after I started college, Yu Qiao dragged our dorm mates to take a group photo by the same artificial lake.”

The artificial lake at C University was a famous spot for students to take pictures. There was a sculpture of swans in the middle of the lake, lifelike as if they were playing in the water, with a short-haired girl sitting across from them, reaching out as if feeding them. On sunny days, the surface of the lake reflected the blue sky and tree shadows, creating a perfect symmetry between the real world above and its mirrored reflection below—a harmony between reality and ideals. For me, meeting Lin Zhiyi at C University marked the beginning of my journey toward realizing my ideals of love, literature, and life.

As my mind wandered, my finger accidentally swiped to the next photo. It was the back of the photo, with writing on it: Today I turned twenty. I shaved off my beard especially for this photo. But the sunlight was too strong, and I couldn’t open my eyes properly. My expression looks unnatural, as if I’d just gone through a breakup and been punched in the face.

Reading this, I burst out laughing. “Haha, ‘as if I’d just gone through a breakup and been punched in the face.’ That’s totally your sense of humor!”

“But didn’t you say you hadn’t dated anyone before you met me? How can you talk about breakups?” My sharp intuition caught a detail.

“I haven’t eaten pork, but I’ve seen pigs run, right? I’ve seen people go through breakups on TV! I just wasn’t happy with how my expression turned out.” I looked at the photo and the words again, flipping between them several times, and remarked, “Why does looking at this photo and your handwriting make me feel like I’m meeting you for the first time?”

Before he met me, I was absent from the first twenty years of his life. He had experienced joy and sorrow, smiles and silence in some corner of the world, all unknown to me. His past was a blank page to me. Though we are now intimate partners, we were once two strangers who knew nothing of each other. For some reason, I found myself envying his sister, who had been part of his youth and witnessed his growth firsthand.

“Mr. Lin, should we get to know each other again?” The thought slipped out before I realized it.

“Huh?” He looked at me quizzically.

“I suddenly realize I know nothing about your past. I want to meet the you before you turned twenty.”

“That would require a time machine,” he said.

“If there was a time machine, I’d go back in time, live inside your body, experience your life, and feel your youth.”

“A camera is also a kind of time machine—it captures moments that have passed. Do you want to see my photos from before I turned twenty?”

“Yes!”

Under the warm orange glow of the desk lamp, he pulled out some old photos, worn with age. There were only three, two of them black-and-white.

The first was a family portrait taken during his infancy. Little Lin Zhiyi, about six or seven months old, sat on his mother’s lap wearing a knitted hat. His round face stared curiously at the camera. His father stood beside his mother, his grandmother sat in front of her, and his four-year-old sister leaned against their grandmother.

Looking at the old photo, Lin Zhiyi’s gaze grew deep and distant, as if he had returned to that moment. “Back then, my sister and I were still young, and my world was small. Grandma and Dad were still around.”

“I remember you telling me how much you loved the fried rice with chopped chili peppers Grandma used to make for you,” I said, steering the conversation toward food to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, when I was little, my parents were always busy, so Grandma cooked for me.” He paused, then added softly, “It would’ve been nice if Grandma and Dad were still here.”

“They’re still here,” I consoled him. “As long as someone remembers them, they’re still here.”

“The thing I regret most is that they never got to meet you. They’ll never know how wonderful the person I love is.”

His words struck a tender spot in my heart, and I suddenly felt the urge to cry. It turns out that in his eyes, I am so good—good enough that he wants the people closest to him to know about me. I’ve never thought highly of myself until I met him, and gradually, the insecure me began to regain confidence.

The second photo showed him as a child, standing beside his sister. The boy with a buzz cut wore a light-colored jacket. His face was no longer chubby, and his delicate features hinted at the handsome youth he would become. His expression was serious, his eyes filled with determination, as if full of confidence about the future.

“Did you know? This photo was taken by accident,” Lin Zhiyi said, smiling as he recalled. “My sister was taking graduation photos with her best friend, and I happened to walk by. She pulled me in for a quick shot.”

“Good thing she did, or your elementary school days would’ve been represented only by your graduation photo.”

“Do you want to hear a legendary story about my sister?”

“Of course!” His mysterious tone piqued my interest.

“One time, my sister heard from her best friend that her friend’s younger brother had been bullied by a classmate in preschool. Feeling indignant, my sister decided to stand up for him. Together with her best friend, they went to the boy’s classroom to confront the bully. When they arrived, my sister asked her friend’s brother, ‘Who bullied you?’ Seeing backup, the boy pointed confidently, ‘That bad guy!’ My sister followed his finger—and realized the ‘bad guy’ was none other than her own younger brother. So she waved her hand dismissively and told her friend, ‘Never mind, kids these days don’t know any better.’ Then she dragged her friend away. Her friend was confused and asked, ‘Why aren’t we fighting anymore?’ My sister replied, ‘That kid is my brother.’“

“Haha, I never knew my sister could be so cool!” I laughed, but then paused. “Wait...you mean you were the one bullying others? I can’t imagine gentle you doing that.”

“He started it! He was supposed to be in first grade, but since he fell behind academically, his family made him repeat kindergarten. Thinking he was an old hand, he picked on me, moving my chair out to the hallway. I asked him to bring it back, but he refused. When I pushed it back, he tried to block me with his foot, lost his balance, and fell. After getting up, he hit me, and of course, I hit him back. Since he couldn’t beat me, he ran to his sister for help. Coincidentally, his sister’s best friend was my sister, leading to that scene.”

So that’s how it was. I always knew my gentle Mr. Lin wouldn’t have bullied anyone, even in his mischievous childhood.

In the third photo, Lin Zhiyi was already a college student, and his appearance had changed dramatically. The childishness had faded, replaced by a pair of glasses and a navy-blue trench coat. Standing on the rooftop of the school, he looked refined and elegant, resembling Bae Yong-joon, the male lead in Winter Sonata.

This photo felt oddly familiar, as if I had been transported back to the days when I first met Lin Zhiyi.

“Isn’t this the very first photo I saw of you?” I exclaimed excitedly.

Before meeting Lin Zhiyi in person, I had already seen this photo of him.

Back then, I was a sophomore who loved writing and often published articles in magazines. One day, desperate to submit a manuscript but without a computer of my own, I sought help to type up my handwritten draft. I initially asked my online friend “Western Sunshine” for assistance, and he introduced me to his high school classmate, Lin Zhiyi, saying it would be more convenient since we were at the same university. Along with the introduction, “Western Sunshine” sent me a photo: a young man in a navy-blue trench coat standing on a rooftop, wearing glasses, looking refined and elegant. “He’s published articles too, and they’ve been reprinted in Reader and Youth Digest ! Plus, he’s handsome—many girls in our class had crushes on him back then. He was the pride of our senior year, Class 1!”

At the time, I wondered why he was introducing Lin Zhiyi as if arranging a blind date, but little did I know that upon meeting him, Lin Zhiyi would fall head over heels for me. Thanks to this incident, “Western Sunshine” earned the nickname “Western Matchmaker.”

Through this photo, I formed my first impression of Lin Zhiyi—a tall, refined, and elegant young man.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear this trench coat!” I said, puzzled as I looked at the photo.

“It belongs to Xiao Qi.”

I knew Xiao Qi, the “unofficial member” of their dormitory who didn’t live there but frequently visited.

“Back then, Meteor Garden was all the rage, and it sparked some romantic inspiration among us guys. One day, we heard there was going to be a Leonid meteor shower, so we rushed to the rooftop to watch. While waiting, we got bored, and Chen Gang grabbed his camera to take pictures. Xiao Qi’s trench coat was the coolest, so we borrowed it as a prop.”

“So that’s how it was. Did you see the meteor shower that night?”

“We didn’t catch the Leonids, but not long after, we spotted a Scorpio asteroid.”

Hearing this, I couldn’t help but smile. “Scorpio asteroid,” huh? Wasn’t that referring to me, a Scorpio?

“No, it wasn’t an asteroid. In my life, you’re a star—a constant presence I revolve around,” Lin Zhiyi added.

“I can’t believe how smooth you’ve become with your words. I still remember when we first got together, you said you’d never dated before, that you weren’t good with words, and didn’t know how to make a girl happy. You even said that if we ever argued and you stayed silent, it didn’t mean you didn’t love me. Remember? You used lyrics from Meteor Shower to express your feelings: ‘If I stay silent, it’s because I truly love you.’”

“Do you know why I’ve gotten better at talking now?”

“Why?”

“Because the girl I met is a star. She illuminated me.”

And you, how could you not be my sunshine? Before meeting you, I had experienced the failure of the college entrance exam, arguments with my family over transferring to a better program, and the loneliness of loving writing but being misunderstood. I was like a struggling blade of grass in the dirt, until I met you. Only then did my dim life begin to shine brightly. You lit a fire within me, allowing me to live like a radiant sunflower.

“Suddenly, I noticed that in all the photos from before we met, neither of us is smiling. Your expressions are always serious, and I always look worried. We both looked like we were carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders, as if everyone owed us something.”

“Of course. Back then, the world owed us a first love.”

I laughed.

Meeting someone softens the passage of time. A person enters our eyes, love fills our hearts, and our photos begin to show genuine smiles.

Before we met, we grew up in parallel worlds. After meeting, our once-dim worlds began to shine.

Perhaps that’s the power of love?

We are all lonely stars fallen to Earth, wandering alone until we meet another lonely star. Two once-dim stars can illuminate each other in the deepest night.

Mr. Lin, thank you for being the star in my ordinary days.