[Even though he thought they would never meet again, he secretly kept liking you.]

She also met the teachers again.

Old Pan was still teaching Grade 12. After Zhou Leqi became the provincial top scorer, he once felt that his wish had been fulfilled and finally agreed to teach Grade 10. However, after one round, he found it not stimulating or challenging enough. So, after that class graduated, he applied to return to teaching graduating classes, full of fighting spirit. Unfortunately, since 2014, No. 1 High School hadn’t produced another provincial top scorer, let alone the glory of occupying two spots in the top three of the province.

As for the other teachers, there wasn’t much change either: Guanyin Li was still a soft-hearted physical education teacher who let students do whatever they wanted during PE class; Xue Jun was still a meticulous math teacher who required students to write out calculation steps for multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blank questions just to prevent copying homework; Teacher Feng’s eyesight was still poor, and he couldn’t see small movements in class. Originally rehired, he would retire completely next year.

There weren’t many changes, mostly in hardware. For instance, air conditioners were finally installed in the students’ classrooms, so they no longer needed hand warmers in winter. The uneven blackboard at the back of the classroom was also replaced with a new one, which would likely improve the quality of blackboard art significantly.

The school auditorium had been renovated too, making it more grand and spacious. In Zhou Leqi’s opinion, it might even be larger than Tsinghua University’s auditorium. The new Grade 12 students all sat below the stage, forming a dense crowd when she looked out. Amidst enthusiastic applause, she walked onto the stage, standing under the bright spotlight.

She had experienced such scenes many times, but even now, her heart still surged with emotions. Perhaps the young faces and clean eyes always reminded her of the preciousness of youth, making her cherish those beautiful and pure school days even more.

“Hello everyone, I am Zhou Leqi, a graduate from the Class of 2014. I’m very glad to be back at my alma mater to meet you all today.”

Her voice was as clear as in her youth, but her expression had become more mature and refined. Like a friend and the best senior, she quietly and humbly told the juniors how to effectively spend their preparation year, explaining the key points of each subject and the rhythm of review, while also encouraging them to adjust their mindset towards exams and rankings. Finally, under the persistent hint of the headmaster, she entered the usual motivational speech segment.

She wasn’t good at giving motivational speeches because her words lacked煽动性 (煽动性), and at most, she could only offer some鸡汤 (chicken soup for the soul), calmly sharing a few heartfelt words.

“I sincerely suggest that everyone give it your all in this final year of high school and achieve good results in the college entrance exam.”

“As for the reasons, we’ve all heard them countless times—better scores will get you into better universities, and better universities give you a higher competitive starting point, leading to a more successful life in the future... All of these are true.”

“But I think the most valuable thing a good platform gives you is the room to choose, and the courage to pause and restart.”

“Charge forward without hesitation this year, and from then on, you’ll have a freer life. You’ll have more opportunities to fail in the coming decades, and even if you find yourself on the wrong path, you’ll still dare to start over. Your education, experience, companions, and vision—all of these will be strong supports, allowing you to get back on track after a brief wandering.”

“Don’t be afraid of hard work now, and don’t fear loneliness in the future. Even though life will always have unexpected twists, some even painful, always believe we have a bright future ahead.”

After the event ended, Zhou Leqi was pulled into the office by the teachers for a chat and reminiscence, and it took a while before she came out. It was still early, 10:30 in the morning, and she had nothing to do, so she wandered around the campus.

She slowly made her way from the teaching building to the playground, where she saw Grade 10 and 11 students having PE class. Some girls were chatting together, laughing when something funny was said; many boys were playing basketball. The tall cement steps next to the court were still there.

Zhou Leqi was in a good mood, so she stood by the court and watched the game for a while. She didn’t understand sports well, but she still thought the boys on the court weren’t as good as Hou Zihao back in the day—she remembered watching him play basketball. The handsome youth was surrounded by crowds, and every time he scored, cheers erupted from the sidelines. And every time this happened, he would turn to look at her, his deep eyes appearing broad and tender in the sunlight.

It easily touched her heart.

Lost in memories, she suddenly heard a familiar voice—

“These kids aren’t playing well. You should watch me instead of them.”

She turned her head and saw him, who had somehow already come to her side.

The sunlight was abundant, and the tree branches swayed in the wind.

The boy from her memory had suddenly become an adult, appearing unexpectedly in this familiar scene, as if he had traversed a long, disordered span of time to finally arrive before her. His deep eyes were still as focused, and his tall figure cast a small, cool shadow over her in the intense August sunlight.

She suddenly lost her voice, unsure of what to say, but deep down, she realized this was their first August spent together. After the summer when the college entrance exam ended, they had each embarked on vastly different paths. Yet, after seven years of twists and turns, they unexpectedly returned to the point of their meeting and parting, like a wonderful destiny meant to mend regrets.

She steadied herself and finally found her voice, not showing too much emotion, simply asking lightly, “Why are you back at school? Don’t you still have things to do?”

He shrugged, looking somewhat nonchalant, but his gaze betrayed his feelings. She knew he was the same as her—shaken by the familiar campus, yet neither wanting to appear overly sentimental in front of the other.

“The school’s official account posted an announcement saying you’d be speaking today,” he looked down at her and explained, “so I... came to take a look.”

She raised an eyebrow, glanced at him, and asked, “You’re still following No. 1 High School’s official account?”

After graduating for so long... was he still following it?

He scratched his nose, nodded, and said, “Not just No. 1 High School’s. I also follow Tsinghua’s.”

After a pause, he couldn’t help but frown and complain, “What’s up with your school? Why do they have so many accounts?”

This made her laugh, imagining him flipping through the various chaotic public accounts of Tsinghua.

“You wouldn’t understand. World-class universities are like this,” she emphasized seriously, not forgetting to tease him, “Who told you to follow them? If you find it annoying, just unsubscribe.”

He had nothing to say. Though logically, he could explain Oxford’s status as a world-class university, in reality, he still felt it safer not to argue. He chose to nod silently and said, “Who said it was annoying? Your school’s posts are actually quite interesting...”

A bit forced flattery.

She laughed, her eyes curving into crescents. She glanced at him, pursed her lips, and asked, “What about your affairs? How’s it going?”

At this, his eyes brightened even more, no longer as gloomy as when they reunited in Rome this spring. His voice became gentler as he said, “Things are going smoothly so far... Yan Lin said there’s a chance for an out-of-province retrial.”

This was the best news.

Previously, Yuan Jianxin had hinted that behind the Haoting case back then were other forces besides him. The chance of overturning the case within the province was slim, as it would be akin to slapping the local judicial system in the face. But an out-of-province retrial was different, especially under the close attention and heated discussion across the internet. No one dared to act recklessly.

Her mood lightened further. The summer breeze gently lifted her soft strands of hair, reminding him of sitting behind her in high school. Back then, he would often stare off at her ponytail, and whenever a few strands fell, he had to restrain himself from helping her tuck them away. He was frequently teased by Yan Lin, sitting beside him.

Now? Could he help her tuck away her hair?

He cautiously reached out to her. She didn’t avoid him. Her fair skin was even more striking in the bright sunlight, almost glowing. He gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, his fingers accidentally touching her skin. Just like before, it carried a slight chill.

His mind wandered again.

And she began to dampen his spirits, brushing his hand away. Her eyes slightly arched, a bit proud and arrogant, she said, “Why do you always take advantage of me? How many times have I told you to stop?”

This was a warning.

He sighed inwardly, wondering how long she intended to torment him like this. At the same time, he realized he actually liked her current self—not as tired and sad as when they first met in their third year of high school, but subtly becoming more lively, vibrant, and brighter.

“What exactly do you want from me?” He was already smiling helplessly, his eyes filled with deep affection. “Do I really have to chase you all over again?”

Her eyes were still smiling, but her expression tightened. She countered, “What, you’re unwilling?”

“I’m willing, alright,” he sighed. “But you’re really quite difficult to pursue, and the process is so long... Isn’t there a shortcut for me to take?”

She lightly hummed, the sunlight dancing behind her: “Dream on. For someone with a record like yours, it’s already lenient not to make things harder for you.”

This was another reminder of the wrongs he had done to her in the past.

He had no retort, nodding and saying, “Yes, yes, yes.” At this moment, he heard her ask, “Are you hungry?”

He was taken aback, then realized she was giving him an opportunity. He quickly responded, “What do you want to eat? The beef noodles behind the school?”

She was quite satisfied with his response and thought for a moment before saying, “It’s too early to eat at ten... Let’s grab some bread to tide us over.”

He immediately understood—she wanted the meat floss bread from the small store, the kind he bought her when they first met in their third year of high school.

“Alright.”

He smiled and started walking toward the small store. However, after taking a few steps, he turned back, reached out, and took her hand, saying, “Let’s go together. You can see if there’s anything else you want.”

She shook her head: “I still want to watch the game. You go buy it yourself.”

He frowned, refusing to agree: “What’s so interesting about such a poor game? Next time, watch me play...”

As he spoke, he forcibly pulled her away. They walked through the campus toward the small store together, chatting incessantly, repeating trivial things. Though they were adults now, they still felt like teenagers.

They were the teenagers who had basked in the sun together and weathered the rain.

The teenagers who wandered alone in foreign spring nights, covered in wounds.

The teenagers who silently gazed at the now-empty windows from the dark bottom of the building.

The teenagers who found the quietest version of you in a noisy world.

The teenagers who endured grueling times and arduous journeys, yet were still willing to return to the starting point.

The teenagers who secretly continued to like you, even believing they would never meet again.

Pure.

Foolish.

And deeply in love with you.

...Teenagers.

<The End>