#41: “I miss you very much.”

Talking about feelings at the dinner table kept the listeners interested, but the people in the story couldn’t even force a smile.

Cheng Wanyue stared hazily at the bubbles in her wine glass. Her memories were vivid, yet she didn’t know where to begin. She and Qing Hang had never been together, so they couldn’t really be considered to have broken up.

Before their last cold war, there had already been issues between them, but she still didn’t understand what she had done wrong.

One evening, Qing Hang mentioned that his only extracurricular activity in elementary school was playing table tennis. Upon hearing this, Cheng Wanyue got excited. She wanted to learn, but there was no ping pong table on the playground of her high school.

She went home and nagged Cheng Guoan, asking during meals and right after waking up.

“Dad, the next time you meet Principal Liu, could you suggest adding a ping pong area? The school has basketball courts but no ping pong tables. Qing Hang plays really well!”

Cheng Guoan, unable to resist her persistence, actually brought it up to the principal, coincidentally aligning with the principal’s own thoughts.

“We’re already preparing to build it. Once we buy the equipment, it’ll be ready to use.”

“Will it be ready by the start of the semester?”

“It should be.”

Cheng Wanyue always followed through with her plans. Before buying a ping pong paddle, she used her New Year’s money given by her aunt to buy two pairs of sneakers, both identical in style with black and white color schemes.

She only cared about appearance when buying things, prioritizing aesthetics, but beautiful things generally weren’t cheap.

After waiting for a month, the shoes finally arrived. She wore her pair and took the other to Qing Hang.

Qing Hang’s grandfather was ill, and he had many chores to do. With the college entrance exam approaching, he studied late into the night and woke up early to help with work.

On weekends, more people came to sell scrap. The yard was small, and he needed to organize the cardboard boxes collected the previous day so others could walk around.

Cheng Wanyue liked to come quietly, hiding at the door and suddenly jumping out to scare him.

“Qing Hang!”

Qing Hang struggled to turn around while carrying a large stack of cardboard boxes. She had changed her hairstyle, wearing a hat that covered half her face, but her bright smile shone through.

She seemed to have no worries at all.

While others were stressed over exam results, losing sleep and appetite, she slept soundly and ate well. While others worried about not getting into their dream universities, she continued to have fun as usual. While others studied hard every spare moment, she always walked around empty-handed.

“Wait ten minutes. I’ll tidy these things up, then you can come in.”

“It’s not dirty,” she ignored him completely.

Qing Hang watched as she held a shoebox above her head, carefully making her way through the messy scrap to reach him.

Cheng Wanyue stepped on the cardboard boxes and spun around, “Do I look different today?”

Qing Hang’s eyes fell on her feet, “Your shoes are new.”

“Do they look good?”

“They look good.”

“I got you a pair too. Try them on to see if they fit,” she opened the shoebox, “Let’s go to the school tonight. You can teach me how to play table tennis.”

Qing Hang didn’t recognize the brand, but he had seen its logo before.

Almost all of Cheng Yuzhou’s sneakers were of this brand, and Cheng Yanqing often wore them too. Qing Hang would spend most of the day sorting cardboard boxes priced at six cents per kilogram, which might not even cover the cost of shoelaces.

“I can accompany you to play table tennis. You can play as long as you want, but I can’t accept these shoes. Take them back.”

Cheng Wanyue said, “I bought these for you.”

“I can’t accept them,” Qing Hang neatly placed the shoes back, closed the box, and even wiped off the mud stuck to the bottom, “Cheng Wanyue, don’t give me something so expensive.”

More than one classmate had commented that the Cheng family loved charity work—both Cheng Wanyue and Cheng Yuzhou. These words just hadn’t reached their ears yet.

“But I already bought them. If you won’t take them, I can’t return them either,” she was a little upset, “Would throwing them away not be wasteful?”

Qing Hang insisted, “I can’t accept them.”

“Why are you mad?” Cheng Wanyue clearly meant well.

Qing Hang got up to continue working, “I’m not mad.”

They had argued before the New Year, and Cheng Wanyue came today partly to reconcile. She arrived full of joy but left frustrated in less than ten minutes.

Grandpa brought out a carton of milk, warming it with hot water, but Cheng Wanyue declined. She threw the shoebox into the pile of scrap and left.

After that day, she never mentioned playing table tennis again.

Aside from words, the five of them ate together almost every day. Occasionally, Cheng Yuzhou selfishly took Zhou Yu away alone, and Cheng Wanyue stopped going to the cafeteria. Only Cheng Yanqing and Qing Hang remained at the dining table.

Over the years, Cheng Wanyue and Qing Hang’s relationship fluctuated between good and bad.

When things were good, no one could interfere. When they quarreled, they ignored each other. Meeting in the corridor or on the stairs, they acted as if they hadn’t seen each other.

Because he stood beside Qing Hang, Cheng Yanqing was also thoroughly ignored by Cheng Wanyue.

“What happened between you two?”

“Nothing.”

“My dad plans to send Cheng Wanyue abroad. I wonder if she will agree,” Cheng Yanqing was used to it, knowing they would reconcile in a few days, “Have the results of your guaranteed admission exam come out? There shouldn’t be any problem, right? That’s great. No need to take the college entrance exam.”

Qing Hang didn’t speak.

He could still hear Cheng Wanyue’s voice. She was watching the vocational high students play basketball on the court. Someone asked her about the boy wearing the number 6 jersey, and she said he was okay and worth getting to know.

She would get to know many more people in the future.

The ping pong paddle inside her desk seemed redundant, just like him, standing here waiting for her to walk over.

Qing Hang had resolved not to let Cheng Wan Yue distract him anymore, but two weeks later, she found herself in trouble because of the boy wearing the number 6 jersey.

Her habit of teasing without taking responsibility hadn’t changed, but not everyone was as easy to brush off as he was.

If Qing Hang could truly stop being distracted by her, he wouldn’t have noticed her walking into a dead-end alley.

The first time he ever got into a fight was during his second year of high school. A boy had publicly made crude jokes about Cheng Wan Yue, commenting on how beautiful her legs were and how seductive she looked in a short skirt.

That time, she had been heartbroken over his injuries, crying endlessly. Though he only had a few scratches on his face, she nearly covered him with band-aids.

But this time, she didn’t even glance at him.

“He has nothing to do with me. Let him leave,” Cheng Wan Yue said coldly. If she showed any sign of recognizing Qing Hang, Number 6 would assume she was rejecting him because of Qing Hang.

Number 6 appeared innocent on the surface, but he was actually quite unhinged.

People like him were dangerous. She had distanced herself from him after just two days of knowing him, let alone considering dating him. She even feared that he might show up in the middle of the night with a knife to her throat.

Qing Hang was set to be recommended for university admission; nothing could jeopardize that. Getting into fights was a big no-no—if it went on his record, it would haunt him for life.

Before Number 6 lured Cheng Wan Yue into the alley, he had called a lot of people. But all Qing Hang could see was her and Number 6, his arm draped over her shoulder. She hated when people smoked in front of her—even her father wasn’t allowed—but Number 6 held a cigarette to her lips, teasing her, and she didn’t say a word.

She shouldn’t be associating with someone like him.

Qing Hang stubbornly looked at her. “Cheng Wan Yue, come to me.”

“Are you annoying?” She frowned. “Don’t think that just because you know me, you can meddle in my affairs.”

There was only one streetlamp, casting a long shadow of Qing Hang.

When Cheng Wan Yue saw that he still hadn’t left, she pulled Number 6 further into the alley.

After what felt like an eternity, the shadow in the corner disappeared, and his footsteps grew fainter. Only then did Cheng Wan Yue breathe a sigh of relief.

Her tightly clenched hands slowly relaxed, palms drenched in cold sweat.

She hadn’t been afraid when Number 6 tricked her into the alley or when she realized they were trapped. But when she saw Qing Hang enter with a brick in hand, she froze in fear, terrified that he might throw it at Number 6. Knowing how unhinged Number 6 was, he might retaliate violently.

Being entangled with someone so dark and unstable was sheer bad luck.

Getting rid of Number 6’s advances was complicated. The results of Qing Hang’s recommendation for university admission had already been announced, but he hadn’t told her. She pretended not to know.

The last time she saw him was at the Cheng residence.

That day, Cheng Wan Yue was feeling unwell during her period and skipped breakfast. Her father, Cheng Guo’an, urged her to eat something and get to her homework, but she ignored him.

When Qing Hang arrived at the Cheng house, she assumed he was there to see her. However, just like the first time he visited three years ago, he only spoke to Cheng Guo’an.

He had come to say goodbye.

But not to her.

As the door closed behind him, it felt as though the past three years of memories were locked away behind it. With every step Qing Hang took, he moved further and further away from Cheng Wan Yue.

Grandpa tried to persuade him. “Xiao Hang, say goodbye to Yueyue. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

He knew Grandpa was right, but he still didn’t turn back.

If only he had waited a little longer, or if the train had been delayed, he would have seen Cheng Wan Yue running toward him, tears streaming down her face.

The train raced through the tunnel and didn’t stop until eight years later.

________________________________________

Cheng Wan Yue’s silence cooled the atmosphere at the dinner table.

Xu Qian realized she might have asked the wrong question and was about to smooth things over when Qing Hang picked up a beer bottle and drank three glasses in quick succession.

Soon, another round began, and the lively atmosphere returned.

When Cheng Wan Yue was called away by Meng Qi, Zhou Heng moved his chair to Qing Hang’s left. “Qing Hang, what you did was a bit excessive.”

Qing Hang clinked glasses with him. “I’m sorry.”

Zhou Heng forced a bitter smile. “It’s awkward. You should’ve told me earlier.”

Without Zhou Heng, Qing Hang wouldn’t have met Cheng Wan Yue so early. Without a clear signal from her, he had no grounds to stop others from pursuing her.

Zhou Heng remembered the resignation letter. “You planned to resign in June to go find her?”

Qing Hang’s features were shrouded in the night. He turned his head toward the empty seat beside him. “Yeah.”

“My boss wants me to study abroad for a while. I was hesitating before, but now there’s no need to.” Zhou Heng refilled Qing Hang’s glass. “Finish this drink, and it’ll be over. Since she doesn’t like me anyway, if I lose both the girl I like and my friend, wouldn’t that make me a failure?”

By the time Cheng Wan Yue returned, nearly all the bottles on the table were empty.

Zhou Heng handed his keys to her. “Wan Yue, it’s been great knowing you. I’m not going home tonight. Qing Hang is drunk—I’ve poured too much into him. Sorry, you’ll have to take care of him.”

Cheng Wan Yue ruffled Qing Hang’s short hair. “It’s fine. You go ahead.”

Zhou Heng stood up, and Xu Qian followed suit.

Just as Cheng Wan Yue put the keys in her bag, Qing Hang wrapped his arms around her waist. Before Meng Qi’s car had even driven far, he kissed her under the tree—urgent and passionate.

Her back hit the trunk, the slight pain traveling to her nerve endings, confirming that Qing Hang was truly drunk.

“Cheng Wan Yue.”

“Hmm?”

He murmured softly, “I miss you.”