Zhu Yun arranged to meet Li Xun at the school gate at seven o’clock.
Zhu Yun was awake by five, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fall back asleep. She took a shower, then realized there was still too much time, so she put on a face mask. That finished and there was still time left over, so she spent more than an hour going through her wardrobe.
By the time she left the house, she was already running a little late. When she arrived at the meeting spot, Li Xun was already there.
An autumn wind stirred the air. The school gate at seven was still quiet. Li Xun stood in the autumn landscape of thinning trees and fallen leaves, wearing a dark jacket, a cigarette between his fingers. He was older now, and something in his manner had changed — gone was the arrogant ease and effortless confidence of his youth. But his bearing was still there, and having been worn and weathered by the years, it had taken on a certain melancholy beauty.
Though his temperament was still every bit as insufferable.
Zhu Yun simply honked from inside the car. They caught sight of each other through the window, and he put out the cigarette and got in, settling into the passenger seat.
“How long did you wait?” she asked.
“Half a day,” he said.
“…”
Zhu Yun checked the time. She was only about ten minutes late.
This was their first time alone together since the argument. In the car, Zhu Yun caught Li Xun glancing at her a few times out of the corner of her eye — probably gauging whether she was still upset.
Zhu Yun’s expression was perfectly composed.
This was a skill she had acquired over the years — the art of forgetting.
Nothing in the world can withstand forgetting. She had mastered this self-deluding yet remarkably efficient technique over the course of those difficult years. As long as she forgot the things that cut deepest — the good and the bad alike, all treated the same — she could clear the space she needed and keep moving forward.
Seeing that she was fine, Li Xun closed his eyes and rested.
Following the address Old Man Lin had given her, Zhu Yun turned into the residential compound behind the school. She had expected to spend some time hunting for the right building, but Old Man Lin was already waiting at the compound entrance. The moment he appeared in her field of vision, Zhu Yun noticed Li Xun’s body go briefly rigid.
She said to him, “Get out first.”
Li Xun frowned. “Why?”
“I need to park the car.”
Old Man Lin came toward them from a distance, and Zhu Yun quickly unlocked the door and pushed Li Xun out, half shoving him along. Old Man Lin was full of energy — from five meters away, he was already pointing at Li Xun with a raised arm, and before he could decide what to say, he closed the gap and threw a punch. The blow looked dramatic, but landing on Li Xun it made no sound at all.
“You reckless little fool!”
Li Xun lowered his head. His voice came out a little rough.
“Teacher…”
At those two words, both Zhu Yun’s and Old Man Lin’s eyes went red. Zhu Yun’s heart was in turmoil. She drew a deep breath to hold back her tears and smiled at Old Man Lin. “Teacher, I’ll go park the car.”
She made a quick turn and parked along the tree-lined road. When she killed the engine, two withered leaves drifted onto the hood and were blown to the ground by a passing wind.
Zhu Yun took out a tissue and dabbed at her eyes, then touched up her makeup in the mirror before getting out.
Old Man Lin lit up the moment he saw Zhu Yun.
“Look at you, all grown up.”
Zhu Yun greeted him respectfully, and Old Man Lin pointed between her and Li Xun with a laugh. “You two always liked working together back then, and now you’re at the same company — what a coincidence!”
“Isn’t it,” Zhu Yun said with a smile. “Quite the happy accident.”
Old Man Lin walked them to his apartment. The compound was home mostly to teachers from the university district. Though it lacked the modern amenities of the newer campus buildings elsewhere, the residents were cultured people, and the grounds were immaculate — trash neatly sorted at designated points, not a single bicycle parked out of place.
Old Man Lin lived on the fourth floor — no elevator. They chatted as they climbed the stairs. They had just reached the third floor landing when the door above opened, and Old Man Lin’s wife, Zhao Guowei, appeared with a warm smile.
“Welcome, welcome! You haven’t had breakfast yet, I’m sure — come in, come in.”
Zhao Guowei was a professor in the university’s history department. Her face was gentle and kind.
“I’ve been looking forward to your visit for so long!”
Zhu Yun was flustered. “We didn’t mean to—”
Zhao Guowei laughed. “Ever since your Teacher Lin got off the phone on Wednesday, he’s been completely beside himself. If you’d waited any longer, I would have had to send him to the hospital.”
“What are you saying about me?” Old Man Lin grumbled. “Go heat up the food. These two haven’t eaten — and that boy never eats breakfast!”
The meeting had been scheduled early mainly because Old Man Lin had an academic conference in the afternoon. But Zhu Yun later learned from Zhao Guowei that he’d also had a morning meeting — which he had cancelled. He simply couldn’t wait.
Zhu Yun stirred the white congee in her bowl, watching Old Man Lin hold Li Xun captive in an endless stream of conversation. She puzzled over what the two of them could possibly have to talk about — Li Xun had spent the past six years in prison, after all.
But Old Man Lin and Li Xun had no shortage of topics. Li Xun answered every question patiently, and eventually the two of them fell into an enthusiastic discussion about prison food.
Zhu Yun sat quietly to the side playing her supporting role, racking her brain over how she was going to approach Zhao Guowei for a favor.
Then, while Zhu Yun was still deliberating, Li Xun said to Old Man Lin: “By the way, Teacher, I’ve been working on a game recently — history-themed. I’d love to ask my teacher’s wife for her help.”
Old Man Lin blinked. “Sure,” he said, and looked over at his wife. Zhao Guowei took a sip of her congee. “Sure,” she said.
Li Xun nodded, then went back to chatting with Old Man Lin about prison accommodations.
Zhu Yun: “…”
She had never in her life felt more completely unnecessary.
The congee bowl was scraped clean, not a grain of rice left, but Old Man Lin and Li Xun showed no sign of stopping. Zhao Guowei nudged Zhu Yun’s arm and gestured for her to follow.
Zhu Yun followed Zhao Guowei into the study. Zhu Yun had grown up in a science and engineering environment, and the atmosphere of a scholar’s private study felt quite foreign to her. She gazed curiously at the paintings on the walls, the shelves lined with complete sets of books, the inkstone sitting in the corner of the main desk.
The room had the same quality as Zhao Guowei herself — rich with the scent of learning, radiating a heavy, settled tranquility.