Under the moonlight, they walked back together. Tears clung to Zhang Yi Ling’s eyelashes, glinting like tiny stars. He felt a pang of guilt but couldn’t fathom her motives. Eventually, he asked, “Why didn’t you let me go?”
Zhang Yi Ling, her emotions now slightly under control, replied, “The school issued a notice. If you went out, you’d be walking into trouble.”
He sighed. “Then at least no one would be competing with you for the first-place scholarship.”
She scoffed, giving him a disdainful look. “I don’t care for something handed to me on a silver platter.”
He could only laugh awkwardly, managing to squeeze out a belated, “Thank you.”
Even back then, he knew how strong-willed she was. She never relied on others to achieve what she wanted. Yet, he never questioned why such a proud girl would be so concerned about him.
Despite his meticulous nature, when it came to emotions, he was astonishingly oblivious. Only a direct confession could penetrate his thick skull—subtle hints or glances went entirely unnoticed. While everyone else saw Zhang Yi Ling’s feelings for him, he remained clueless, focused on living a carefree and solitary life.
Until the news about his mother reached him. In the darkness, lost and adrift, it was Zhang Yi Ling who pulled him out.
He had always felt he owed her a great deal and once considered spending his life repaying her. But that day never came. She had said to him, “He Su Ye, we’re even now.”
Since then, she was no longer a part of his world.
Perhaps he should have known all along—Zhang Yi Ling wasn’t his cup of tea. Whatever feelings he had for her were likely a mix of guilt, dependence, and gratitude, but true love? That was in short supply.
Time, after all, has a way of clarifying things.
Walking into the cafeteria, he queued up, contemplating how much rice to get. Before he could decide, his phone rang. The number was unfamiliar. Hesitant, he answered.
A cautious voice came through the line. “He Su Ye, is that you?”
He immediately recognized it. “Qiu Tian?”
Laughter erupted on the other end. “It’s me! Hu Han San has returned from abroad. Let’s go out for roast duck!”
By the time he arrived at the restaurant, five or six people were already there—old friends from his graduate school days. They greeted him with teasing jeers.
“Xiao He shows just a hint of charm, and beauties flock to him!”
He punched each of them playfully before pausing in front of Qiu Tian. “You’re back? How was the United States?”
Qiu Tian, a close friend with a personality completely opposite to He Su Ye’s, was lively and outgoing, his quick wit often leaving girls enchanted. With his sharp tongue and magnetic personality, it was hard to believe this same man was an MD from Baylor College of Medicine.
He had switched to clinical medicine during grad school and been sent abroad to complete his PhD. This year, he finally returned.
He and Zhang Yi Ling were the two who had been sent abroad.
The dinner was a lively affair, with everyone joking and laughing. Qiu Tian, in particular, seemed to have abandoned his polished American accent, speaking entirely in his local dialect and cracking all kinds of jokes, from clean to colorful.
Although He Su Ye couldn’t handle alcohol well, they managed to get a few drinks into him. Later, while he was in the restroom, Qiu Tian, tipsy and leaning on his shoulder, asked, “Want to know how Zhang Yi Ling is doing now?”
It would have been a lie to say he didn’t care. He nodded. “How is she?”
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