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“Do you understand the feeling of being so close to scoring a goal in a soccer match, only to miss it at the last second? Do you know the heartbreak of waiting forever for a jianbing and then dropping it before taking a bite? Can you grasp the despair of coding all night only for your crappy computer to crash? I’ve been designing this damn thing nonstop, even skipped fixing bugs, and now look at this mess. What the hell is this?”
Back in the room, they continued setting up the dominoes. Yu Zhimei had changed into loose sweatpants and a short tank top—no trace of seduction in sight. She was fully focused. Jian Zhaowen had a blueprint in mind; while explaining the orientation of two-sided dominoes to her, he turned his back to carefully arrange the sloped sections. A small steel ball would roll down later, triggering all the dominoes on the floor. Jian Zhaowen meticulously checked the placement of each piece, muttering calculations under his breath like a spy verifying codes. Yu Zhimei began to suspect that Jian Zhaowen had designed a pattern himself, handpicked colors from the store, and painstakingly bought them one by one—all to confess his feelings to her through these dominoes.
As he worked, Jian Zhaowen reminisced, “When I was a kid, dominoes were just starting to get popular in China. I told my mom if I got straight A’s, she should buy me a set to play with at home. Guess what she said?”
“What...?”
“She said, ‘What do you need dominoes for? You’re already as useless as one.’“
“That direct?”
“My mom’s treatment of me was merciless, like autumn wind sweeping away leaves. My cousin, who was preparing for college, lived with us to study. My mom treated him more like her own son than me. Okay, done.” Jian Zhaowen stood up and took out his phone. “Time to witness a miracle.”
He placed the steel ball at the top of the slope. The dominoes rolled down the wooden plank against the wall, zigzagging smoothly thanks to gravity. Everything seemed to unfold exactly as Jian Zhaowen had planned, including a clever twist—the final domino near the wall pulled a string attached to a manga comic, Touch by Mitsuru Adachi. The string slowly lowered the book, revealing its glued pages except for the last three, which unfolded gracefully. Yu Zhimei tensed slightly, worried the fragile momentum might fail. But Jian Zhaowen had calculated everything perfectly. The book revealed an iconic page where Uesugi Tatsuya confessed his love to Asakura Nanami.
At that moment, however, the domino fell short of reaching the book, stopping prematurely. The entire setup awaited the trigger from the nearby vertical row but remained motionless. Jian Zhaowen panicked, leaping up frantically. In his haste, his foot caught on a stool, sending him sprawling forward onto the ground. In one swift second, he scattered the meticulously arranged dominoes everywhere.
Climbing back up, his face still imprinted with the outline of a domino tile, Jian Zhaowen groaned, “This has to be the unluckiest day of the year. Can I swear?”
“It’s over now,” Yu Zhimei couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not that bad—at least the book opened.”
“I can’t accept this!” Jian Zhaowen grabbed a handful of dominoes. “Do you understand the feeling of missing a surefire soccer goal? Do you know the pain of dropping a long-awaited jianbing? Can you imagine coding all night only to lose everything to a computer crash? I’ve been working on this nonstop, even skipped fixing bugs. What kind of crap is this?”
“Don’t rush...”
“How can I not rush? This is utter failure!” Jian Zhaowen bent down, picking up the pieces. “I’m going to reset everything tonight until it works.”
“Jian Zhaowen, between going to bed with me right now or resetting the dominoes, which would you choose?”
“Resetting the dominoes.” Jian Zhaowen didn’t even turn around. His voice was resolute: “I can’t let something like this happen to me.”
...How could such a person exist? Watching the thin line of his spine through his white T-shirt, Yu Zhimei walked over to peek at the page of the manga. Jian Zhaowen firmly blocked her way: “Nope, go do something else. You’re not allowed near until it’s finished.”
Stubborn Jian Zhaowen. Yu Zhimei glanced at the clock—it was 2:40 AM. Meh, there’s always tomorrow, she thought. The hotel was too luxurious, and after countless hours of overtime, all she wanted was peaceful sleep. Just as she was about to check the view count and shares of her latest videos, He Jie called unexpectedly. Strange—didn’t anyone sleep anymore?
“Yu Zhimei! Thank goodness you’re awake. If you hadn’t answered, I’d have hunted you down to your hotel. Today at the beauty salon, I ran into a neighbor. Shira Rui slept with some rich second-generation brat from our neighborhood, and now everyone’s making fun of her. Apparently, she thought sleeping with him meant they’d date. But instead, they laughed about her during dinner, calling her the dumbest and most ignorant country bumpkin they’d ever met, praising only her ‘big breasts’ and virginity.”
Virginity or not aside, recalling how she’d picked Shira Rui up from the suburbs once, Yu Zhimei avoided commenting further. Instead, she asked, “Did you talk to Shira Rui about it?”
“She came to my dessert shop today, saying she’s dating someone—a supposed artist who pursued her. If that’s true, maybe she’s wiser now. At least she learned something from falling flat on her face.”
“Probably because her parents gave her an ultimatum this Lunar New Year. They said if she doesn’t marry by 26, she’ll have to move back home.”
“But desperation isn’t an excuse to jump into anything. There are two sides to every story. When I get the chance, I’ll confront that horny little brat at a gathering and embarrass him publicly. Why does Shira Rui keep chasing marriage so blindly? What’s so great about hooking up with nouveau riche sons—neither fish nor fowl, greedy, spoiled, and obsessed with money? They want nothing more than to marry wealthy heiresses. Why can’t she see past this delusion?”
“If I heard correctly, you seem quite concerned about Shira Rui. Weren’t you the one who found her petty and obsessed with marriage?”
“Who said I looked down on her? Xiao Ma and Shira Rui are like my niece and nephew—I care about them deeply.” He Jie sounded like she was smoking. “I’m furious enough to stay awake. Marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“People’s circumstances differ, and Shira Rui genuinely wants to marry. But what about you? How are things with Gao Yuan? Still strained? Want to talk about it?”
“We’re fine, don’t worry about me. Focus on having a wild night with Jian Zhaowen. You’re the most reliable one—got promoted and landed Jian Zhaowen. It’s almost dawn, and you haven’t slept yet. Later!”
After hanging up, Yu Zhimei sighed in relief. She really was tired. From behind her, Jian Zhaowen mumbled, “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Yu Zhimei adhered to a golden rule: never spread gossip about women to men.
“You should sleep first. I’ll need another hour.”
“I’ll help you rebuild.”
“No, I made the mistake—I’ll bear the consequences. Sleep first; I’ll wake you when it’s done.”
The bed was too soft, lulling Yu Zhimei into a deep slumber almost instantly. In her dream, she walked through a long tunnel, emerging into the bright light at the end to find herself back on her university basketball court. Zhang Yao stood there in a Kobe Bryant jersey. All the other players froze, leaving only him walking toward her. After much thought, she realized this was her first love—though time had aged him slightly. His eyes carried fatigue and complex emotions. Like her, he had grown older, yet everything else remained unchanged, as though he had crossed over from a parallel universe. And within seconds, her memories reset, erasing years of healing. She became the girl who still loved him, unable to move on.
“Long time no see. How are you?” Surprisingly, she spoke first.
“I’m fine. I got married.”
“When? Didn’t you say you only wanted to marry me?”
He shook his head. Yu Zhimei pressed on: “What are you doing now? Is work going well? What’s your wife like? Do you have kids?” These questions represented her ultimate fantasy of love. He merely shook his head again—not out of disinterest but as though he couldn’t hear her. Instead, he asked, “How are you?”
“Not good. After you left, it took me years to rebuild my confidence. Now, I hesitate to trust anyone completely. Do you remember? At 23, you packed a suitcase with your clothes and laptop and left, leaving me alone in that shabby rental apartment. Only after you left did I realize how cheap and poorly built it was. You left behind everything I gave you, except the toothbrush we bought together. I called you nearly a thousand times, and you never answered. Why did you cut ties so coldly? Was it revenge for something I did wrong? If you’d discussed it with me, maybe I would’ve let you go. Couldn’t you have just said you didn’t love me anymore?”
He looked shy, avoiding her gaze—a side of Zhang Yao she’d never seen before. Unlike the fiery youth she remembered, he seemed hesitant and conflicted. Exhausted from venting, she sighed: “It’s all in the past. I don’t want to see you again. Even if I did, what good would it do? Would it be gratitude for turning me into someone afraid to hope?”
Before she could finish, Zhang Yao gave a faint smile, waved apologetically, and vanished from the basketball court. The scene froze, just like it had at 23. Life moved on, seemingly slower, leaving solitude for those left behind to savor. Yu Zhimei woke with a start. Jian Zhaowen lay on the other side of the bed, gently holding onto her sleeve. A sliver of sunlight peeked through the curtains—it was morning.
Quietly approaching the dominoes, she leaned against the wall to inspect the pattern on the other side. The light was dim, so she used a pillow to block Jian Zhaowen’s view and gently pulled back the curtains. Against a blue background, white shapes resembling clouds appeared—not cheesy words like “I love you” or trite poetry, but a simple English phrase: “Stay by my side.”
And on the manga page, Uesugi Tatsuya delivered his final confession to Asakura Nanami:
“Uesugi Tatsuya loves Asakura Nanami more than anyone else in the world. Without loving her this much, I wouldn’t be able to take another step forward.”
“Say it again.”
“In ten years, I’ll say it again.”
“Every ten years?”
“Mm!”
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PS: Made it just in time at 11:59 PM! Thanks for reading, everyone. If you enjoyed this daily update, please consider voting for me. Your support means a lot! I’ll be waiting to chat with you all today. 😊
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