[As clear and beautiful as in our youth]

“Don’t tempt me. Cover yourself properly with the blanket.”

His voice was hoarse, his breathing heavier than usual, making him sound particularly… sensual.

She was moved by his emotions but, unlike a man in this situation, wasn’t tormented in the same way. She still had the presence of mind to tease him, snuggling into his arms and gently rubbing against him. “I’ll do it anyway. What can you do about it?”

Feeling secure, she deliberately provoked him.

Her movements made his muscles tense, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Irritated, he said, “Don’t be ungrateful. I’m doing this for your own good.”

She chuckled, wrapping her arms around his waist, their noses almost touching. At 26, she exuded an irresistible charm in moments like these.

“For my own good?” she challenged him. “How exactly is this for my benefit?”

His hand rested on her lower back, burning hot, just like his voice when he replied, “Isn’t it obvious? You’re a girl. Don’t you know how this could disadvantage you?”

She pouted and lightly hit him. “Are you being sexist? What’s wrong with being a girl?”

He didn’t expect her to accuse him so strongly and was momentarily at a loss for words. He furrowed his brows, trying to explain, but in his mind, this was such an undeniable truth that there wasn’t much room for explanation. So, he simply said, “Men and women are equal, but in situations like this, girls always end up losing out.”

She let out a soft hum, then leaned closer to kiss his Adam’s apple. Rolling over, she straddled him, her white tank top accentuating her alluring curves. One strap slipped off her shoulder, creating an irresistible temptation.

“So, I want to lose out today…” She looked down at him, enticing him to join her in sin. “…Are you going to reject me?”

…Everything had flipped.

Seven years ago, it was he who desperately yearned for her, bending over backward to gain her approval. But now, he was resisting her advances, even though his desire for her hadn’t diminished in the slightest since his youth.

He wanted her.

Right now… he wanted her.

Both his body and heart screamed with longing for indulgence, but ultimately, reason prevailed after a grueling internal struggle – he didn’t realize he could be so rational, actually able to resist the girl who had appeared in his dreams nearly every night for seven years.

He almost fled, not to avoid her but to escape the raging desires within himself. He got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. A second later, his self-control would have completely collapsed, leaving nothing behind.

And Zhou Leqi? She remained seated on the bed, hearing the sound of the shower turning on after he entered the bathroom, feeling only a faint sadness.

She understood why he did this.

Seven years ago, he was determined to spend his life with her, so eager to claim everything she had to offer. But now, resolved to part ways with her, he refused to share intimacy with her anymore.

This man… truly made her love and hate him at the same time.

Aside from those discordant moments at night, they spent their days happily together.

No one mentioned separation, as if they were just a regular couple in love, watching movies, sharing meals, chatting aimlessly about anything and everything. Their lives were simple yet fulfilling.

And time, as mysterious as ever, was far from objective or fair. It flew by whenever people felt happy, slipping away unnoticed. In the blink of an eye, the 14 days of quarantine were nearly over, and their separation loomed ahead.

On the last night before the quarantine ended, both were packing their belongings. As Zhou Leqi packed, she suddenly spaced out. Thinking she was tired, he suggested, “Lie down and rest. I’ll pack for you.”

But she shook her head, sitting on the bed and pointing to the desk on the other side of the room. “Can you check if there’s a pen on the table?”

He was puzzled about why she needed a pen but went over to look anyway.

There was indeed a pen – a common ballpoint pen typically found in hotels.

He picked it up and brought it to her, casually asking, “Are you planning to write something? Do you need paper?”

She didn’t respond immediately, studying the pen for a moment before asking, “Can I take this pen with me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I think so. Just pay for it when we check out.”

She gave a soft “Oh,” then said nothing more, directly stashing the pen away. Afterward, she looked up at him again and asked, “Can you pay for this pen?”

Of course, he could. It was just a pen, costing only three or five yuan, hardly worth mentioning.

But…

“Why specifically buy this pen?” he asked. “Do you like it?”

It was just an ordinary ballpoint pen, the kind sold everywhere.

She smiled faintly, her tone casual. “No, it’s just that I lost my pen in Rome.”

“The pen you gave me during the college entrance exam year,” she added, her eyes reflecting nostalgia and regret. “Since we’re going to part ways, I thought it’d be nice to have a keepsake. If you buy me this pen, consider it a replacement.”

She shrugged nonchalantly, but her seemingly light words struck him like a bomb, almost causing him to crumble instantly.

Why? Because he immediately recalled that night in Rome when they reunited. Pushing through the crowd, he saw her sitting alone on the ground, crying as if the world was collapsing around her. Her tear-filled eyes caused his heart to shatter the moment their gazes met.

So… it was all because of that pen.

Just because of that pen.

He quickly responded with a vague sound, then immediately turned back to packing his luggage to hide his momentary loss of composure.

He wouldn’t cry in front of her.

Even though… right now, he truly, deeply felt immense pain.

That night, neither of them slept.

The two squeezed onto a single bed, neither speaking, simply lying quietly in each other’s embrace. He knew this was the last time he would hold her, and she knew it was the last time she would be held by him.

Insomnia was always so difficult to endure, yet that night seemed fleeting. The sound of each other’s breathing acted as the most stable pendulum, reminding them of the approaching moment of separation. Together, they waited in the darkness, watching as the light outside gradually brightened—shifting from pure black to a hazy gray, until it finally became fully bright.

It was a beautiful spring-summer season, a radiant May.

She was exhausted, lying on the bed without wanting to move. But she had already made her decision and didn’t want to drag things out. Lingering attachments would only harm both parties. She had received a proper farewell, and in their final moments together, they relived the joy of being with each other. It was enough.

They had both grown up. Adults needed to learn how to say goodbye.

So, she got up first. As she sat up, he pulled her close one last time. By then, his right arm had gone completely numb from her resting on it all night, and he hadn’t adjusted his position at all.

He used his left hand to wrap around her waist, pulling her into his embrace once more. Then, suddenly, he rolled over, pinning her down and kissing her deeply—intimate and tender, yet devoid of desire. What she could hear him silently telling her was… I have always, always loved you.

Until this very moment.

…I still love you.

When it came time to handle the procedures for ending their quarantine, she found herself with nothing to do. Reflecting on it, it had always been like this when they were together—he would automatically take care of everything for her, and she had gradually come to take it for granted that his care was something she deserved.

And now, perhaps this was the last time he would take care of her like this.

She watched him sign the forms, saw him pay the bill at the front desk. When he returned, he was holding the ballpoint pen from yesterday, lowering his eyelids as he handed it to her, making it impossible for her to see the layered shadows in his deep eyes.

But it didn’t really matter. If she couldn’t see, so be it.

She took the pen from his hand and smiled at him, saying a soft thank you.

Together, they walked out of the quarantine facility, greeted by Beijing’s bright May sunlight and the swirling willow catkins in the air.

The dazzling sunlight seemed even brighter than in Rome—a perfect day for saying goodbye.

She called a car using an app; the system showed that the driver would arrive in three minutes. Silently, she turned off her phone, beginning their final three minutes alone.

“Have a good time back in the country,” she said after some thought. “I hope you find a job you like and live the life you’ve always dreamed of.”

He glanced at her, his gaze heavy and indescribable, as dark as spilled ink. He didn’t say anything, just nodded slightly.

“After breaking up, we can still be friends,” she continued generously. “If there’s anything you need help with in the future, feel free to contact me anytime.”

He nodded again.

At that moment, a car appeared at the end of the road, speeding toward the intersection where they stood. She checked the license plate—it was her ride.

So, she looked up at him one last time and smiled, as clear and beautiful as in her youth. Buried deep inside was an intense sorrow, but she hoped the impression she left him with was graceful and sincere.

“I’ll be going now,” she said. “Thank you, and goodbye.”

Thank you for appearing in my life and pulling me out of despair so many times.

And thank you for the brilliance and beauty you gave me, which still warms and fills me with gratitude to this day.

You know, I truly loved you too. But unfortunately, our efforts couldn’t withstand the weight of fate, and we must part here, to walk our separate paths.

She had already gotten into the car, and through the reflective glass, he could only see the blurred outline of her profile.

For a brief moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to call her back, or to open the car door and pull her out, disregarding everything to tell her about the devastating events from seven years ago, about his loneliness and fears.

But in the end, he chose silence, held firmly in place by rationality. He couldn’t even bring himself to utter a final “goodbye,” merely watching as the girl he had carefully kept in his heart since his youth slowly faded from his world, disappearing at the end of the road.

Will I see you again?

Can I really be as carefree as I seem right now?

Neither of them could answer those questions.

Even though she had appeared composed just moments ago, her heart was still reeling with emotional earthquakes and tsunamis. She kept looking at him until he became a tiny dot in the rearview mirror, until the car turned a corner and even that dot disappeared. Only then did she allow her tears to fall.

It was an undeniable, irreversible sadness—the final mourning for the singular relationship of her youth.

She wiped her tears away, trying to manage her grief more skillfully. Knowing that busyness was the best antidote, she wisely pulled out her phone and dialed a number before the tears could fall again.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The other person answered quickly.

“Yan Lin?”

Zhou Leqi’s voice was slightly hoarse, but overall, she sounded calm and collected.

“Are you free tonight? Let’s meet up and talk.”