Extra 5
The summer of 2012 was extremely hot. After the high school entrance exam, Zong Ye returned to school to collect his report card.
He clung to a glimmer of hope that he might see her again.
But in reality, only a few classmates had shown up.
The homeroom teacher uncharacteristically stopped him. “Li Xiangyan, why did you leave your preference form blank?”
Zong Ye lowered his head. “I need to discuss it with my aunt.”
After the female teacher left, he walked over and sat in Jiang Chuyi’s seat.
The classroom had been rearranged for exams. Except for desks and chairs, everything had been cleared away, leaving the room feeling empty. The seat that belonged to her retained no trace of her presence.
Through the glass window, Zong Ye looked outside at the scenery she once gazed upon. The white brick teaching building revealed its corners, benches stood beneath trees, and a few children played under the scorching sun on the red plastic track.
Behind him, two girls were discussing class group chat matters with the class monitor. Zong Ye listened for a while. After they left, he couldn’t help turning around to ask the monitor, “Could you give me the group number?”
…
…
Zong Ye found an internet café near the school and, following online tutorials, created his first QQ account.
After waiting half an hour, Zong Ye successfully joined the class group chat.
He moved the mouse, slowly scrolling down the group list, checking one by one, until he finally found the rabbit avatar.
Her online name was “The first (Chuyi) is a good day.”
Zong Ye silently read it twice, smiling to himself in front of the computer.
The rabbit avatar was gray, indicating the owner was offline.
He clicked on the friend request option.
In the application box, Zong Ye carefully typed, “Hello, I’m your desk mate, Li Xiangyan.” After thinking for a few minutes, he changed it to, “Hello, I’m Li Xiangyan.”
After sending the friend request, he nervously stared at the computer.
As he waited, the little horn icon in the bottom right corner never rang.
Zong Ye began to doubt whether his friend request had been sent successfully, hesitating whether to add her again. But if it had been successful, he was afraid repeated messages would annoy her.
Continuously glancing at the time, Zong Ye suddenly realized that Jiang Chuyi’s avatar had remained black—she seemed to never come online.
So, Zong Ye patiently waited for her to log in.
By the time his internet fee ran out, her avatar still hadn’t lit up.
After writing down his QQ number and password on paper, Zong Ye visited the internet café several more times, but the friend requests he sent were like stones sinking into the sea, never receiving any response.
Sometimes he wondered if Jiang Chuyi no longer used that QQ account, or perhaps she didn’t want to add people she wasn’t familiar with. In truth, Zong Ye had no intention of disturbing Jiang Chuyi’s life; he just wanted to ask which high school she attended. He really liked the camera she had given him, and if he had the opportunity in the future, he wanted to give her a gift in return.
When he returned to the rental apartment that evening, Zong Hongyun prepared a lavish meal for him.
Zong Ye ate until he was full.
Zong Hongyun stroked his head. “You can work now. Your uncle found a factory job a couple of days ago that includes meals and accommodation, with very good benefits.”
Zong Ye calmly asked, “Auntie, can I continue going to school?”
On a face resembling his mother’s, a complex expression of sadness appeared. Zong Hongyun’s lips moved slightly, but ultimately she said nothing.
Before bed, Zong Ye took out a brand-looking book from the drawer.
It was his graduating class memory book.
A memory book with wishes from only one person.
During graduation season, there had been a trend in class to write in these books, but Zong Ye had never asked anyone to write in his, nor had anyone asked him to write in theirs.
He was a superfluous person.
He also didn’t have extra money to buy a delicate, pretty notebook from the stationery store.
During the long break on graduation photo day, Zong Ye handed his exercise book and a ballpoint pen to Jiang Chuyi, asking if she could help write in his memory book.
Many people had asked Jiang Chuyi to write for them, so his request wasn’t too abrupt.
She didn’t refuse him.
Jiang Chuyi wrote a few lines of beautiful characters, wishing him to become an excellent person.
How does one become an excellent person?
The 16-year-old boy wasn’t sure.
Zong Ye thought perhaps he should study hard and get into a good university; it was the only path where he could see hope.
But soon, even this faint hope was shattered.
One day, Zong Ye woke up in the rental apartment to find a note and a few hundred yuan on the table.
Zong Hongyun expressed her apologies, saying that his uncle had gambling debts, and they planned to go to Yunnan to lay low. There was a string of numbers; he could call this phone if he needed anything.
Zong Ye took some time to comprehend these words.
He crumpled the note into a ball and threw it into the trash can.
Having long grown accustomed to being abandoned, Zong Ye felt it wasn’t a big deal. He just felt a bit lost.
When the landlord came to collect rent and discovered the situation, she took Zong Ye to report it to the police.
After filing a report, the police told them they could inquire about welfare institution adoption procedures. However, since Zong Ye was already sixteen, the process might be complicated.
The money Zong Hongyun left wasn’t enough to pay the rent, but Zong Ye didn’t want to trouble the elderly landlady. After selling his books as waste paper, he didn’t have much left—everything fit into one backpack.
There are many lonely, pitiful people in this world, and encounters aren’t simple, but Zong Ye felt he still had a bit of luck left.
While sleeping in the park, he met Chen Xiangliang.
Chen Xiangliang was a soft-hearted, talkative man, but Zong Ye had little to discuss with him.
His life was as barren as his existence.
Until one day, Zong Ye mentioned Jiang Chuyi to Chen Xiangliang.
It was the first time he had spoken to anyone about her.
That day, they walked for a long time along the streets, visited many shopping malls. Zong Ye was determined to find a poster or advertisement featuring Jiang Chuyi to prove to Chen Xiangliang that she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
Actually, the Polaroid photo could have proven it too.
But Zong Ye was reluctant to share this photo with anyone.
Finally, at the entrance of a movie theater, they found a promotional poster for “Argo.”
Zong Ye lingered, hesitant to leave. Chen Xiangliang shook his head helplessly and went to the service desk, using money earned from playing guitar to exchange for two movie tickets.
This was the first movie Zong Ye had ever watched.
…
…
By then, the internet was already well-developed, and finding out which school Jiang Chuyi attended was a simple matter.
Chen Xiangliang heard Zong Ye say, albeit inarticulately, that there was a high school nearby with high foot traffic, next to a park, where they could switch places to play guitar.
Chen Xiangliang found it strange: “You’re still thinking about that little celebrity?”
Zong Ye remained silent.
Chen Xiangliang changed his approach, “Why are you still thinking about her?”
Zong Ye didn’t know how to answer.
Chen Xiangliang wanted to tell the young man before him: Although there is only one world, the fact is that many people live in different worlds. For people like them, just surviving was a struggle enough; not having extravagant dreams was the way to live out their lives properly.
But Chen Xiangliang still took Zong Ye to the place he mentioned.
At his age, the boy had far fewer smiles than his peers. Zong Ye had already suffered enough, and Chen Xiangliang couldn’t bear to lecture him.
Zong Ye wanted to encounter Jiang Chuyi, but also feared meeting her.
Although she had already seen him in his disheveled state many times, Zong Ye still hoped that when he appeared before her again, he could be a bit more presentable, at least wearing clean clothes. He also wondered what expression he should use when greeting her, or if it would be enough to just see her from a distance.
However, reality often differs from imagination. People from different worlds, even if physically close, rarely encounter each other.
Similar to middle school, Jiang Chuyi remained very busy in high school.
Days passed one by one, many events repeated themselves, and Zong Ye never saw Jiang Chuyi. The money they earned was enough to rent a small house—though run-down, it was still a home. At some point, the young man began to grow taller, and his voice unknowingly became deeper.
Zong Ye learned to play the guitar.
He seemed to have a talent for it. Without anyone teaching him, without any training, he could remember the pitch after hearing a song just twice.
Neither Chen Xiangliang nor Zong Ye himself noticed the changes in his appearance, until the girls who listened to them sing lingered with glimmering eyes, staying longer and longer. When Zong Ye worked at the dessert shop, people would occasionally come to ask for his contact information.
Chen Xiangliang belatedly realized: “If you took off your glasses, you’d actually look quite handsome.”
Zong Ye remained as taciturn as ever, ignoring these advances.
In the autumn of 2014, Zong Ye was arranging items on the shelves of the dessert shop when he overheard two young female employees discussing a recent entertainment industry scandal.
Zong Ye froze.
He heard Jiang Chuyi’s name.
On that same day, he encountered Jiang Chuyi again.
With lowered eyelashes, dressed in her school uniform, she walked alone among the after-school crowd.
Zong Ye watched her back, following at a distance—neither too close nor too far.
Jiang Chuyi didn’t go home but walked aimlessly forward. Passing through several street corners, she reached the park he was familiar with. There were many street musicians nearby, and she sat alone on a bench for a while.
Zong Ye hesitated for a long time but never dared to approach and greet her.
In two years, Jiang Chuyi had become someone he dared not disturb.
…
…
November 20, 2014, was Jiang Chuyi’s birthday. Zong Ye and Chen Xiangliang waited on the path she had frequently taken these past few days.
Zong Ye held his guitar but didn’t play a single song. Onlookers came and dispersed.
Finally, he saw her.
Jiang Chuyi walked past them with her backpack, heading straight to the crosswalk, where she stopped to wait for the sixty-second traffic light.
Zong Ye whispered something in Chen Xiangliang’s ear, then stood up.
Chen Xiangliang took the guitar and called out loudly to the spot ten meters away, “Young lady, would you like to hear a song?”
Jiang Chuyi didn’t turn around.
Chen Xiangliang called out again, “Young lady with the blue backpack, would you like to hear a song?”
Jiang Chuyi looked around, then turned her head, confirming with Chen Xiangliang: “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes, would you like to hear a song?”
Jiang Chuyi felt her pocket and apologetically said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring any change today.”
Chen Xiangliang: “It’s free. I’m inviting you to listen.”
Jiang Chuyi hesitantly looked back at the traffic light, which had already turned green. She thought for a few seconds and didn’t refuse the stranger’s kindness.
She walked over and sat down on the nearby bench.
Zong Ye, standing behind a tree, watched this scene unfold and backed away step by step, running toward the dessert shop where he worked.
Jiang Chuyi listened to the music, staring absently at the leaves beneath her feet.
Until a flyer was handed to her.
She looked up to see someone in a rabbit mascot costume standing before her.
The person wore the costume with a bag slung across their shoulder, extending the flyer further. “Would you like to take a look?”
It was a male voice.
Jiang Chuyi took the flyer and glanced at it, realizing it was an advertisement for a dessert shop.
This big rabbit, probably tired from distributing flyers, sat down beside her.
Seeing her read the flyer attentively, the rabbit proceeded to introduce the recent special promotions at the dessert shop. As he spoke, the rabbit pulled out a cake from his bag and offered it to her. “You can try this.”
Jiang Chuyi didn’t take it. “This is…?”
The rabbit repeated, “Our shop is running a promotion, giving these away for free.”
Jiang Chuyi frowned, feeling that the packaging didn’t look like something that would be free.
The rabbit seemed to know what she was thinking and explained, “Our shop only gives away one per day. This is the last one.”
She cautiously asked, “Why give it to me?”
“Because… you look a bit unhappy.”
Hearing this answer, Jiang Chuyi remained silent for a long while before accepting his cake.
“What a coincidence, today happens to be my birthday,” she said softly. “Thank you, but can I eat your cake when I get home?”
“Of course, don’t worry, I’m not a bad person.” The rabbit paused, his voice dropping lower. “Happy birthday.”
Jiang Chuyi smiled and thanked him again.
The person hidden in the costume felt both satisfied and dejected.
As the song ended, Jiang Chuyi took the cake and said goodbye to the flyer-distributing rabbit and the guitar-playing uncle.
After her figure disappeared, Zong Ye removed his headpiece.
Chen Xiangliang glanced at him. “Why didn’t you take it off earlier?”
Zong Ye: “Forget it. She probably doesn’t remember me anymore.”
Forget it.
The few blessings Zong Ye had ever received all came from Jiang Chuyi.
But he hadn’t been able to live up to her wishes—to have smooth sailing and a good life, or to become an excellent person.
So, forget it.
…
…
In the summer of 2015, after the college entrance examination, Zong Ye passed by that high school entrance, mingling among many parents, searching for Jiang Chuyi’s name on the honor board.
She had gone to a film academy in Beijing.
It was as expected.
He and Jiang Chuyi should have been parallel lines, but by some twist of fate, they became intersecting lines, briefly meeting before completely separating. They were growing up step by step, entering the adult world, walking into larger, completely different worlds, living lives with no intersection.
Zong Ye was powerless. He had long prepared himself mentally, but when the moment came, he still felt empty inside.
Under the blazing sun, he walked to the familiar park and sat down on the bench where she had once sat.
Someone had left behind a copy of Youth Digest on the bench.
Wanting to find something to do, Zong Ye picked up the book, placed it on his knee, read one page, and then stopped.
He maintained this posture, remaining perfectly still.
After an unknown amount of time, a sudden gust of wind arose. The book on his knee was blown open, one page turning after another.
The wind came and vanished.
The intense sunlight filtered through the layers of green leaves, casting fragmented light and shadow. Zong Ye saw a poem.
…
…
“A moment of joy depleted all the passionate savings of my life. I want to drink some wine, to let my soul lose gravity, to be blown away by the wind. But thinking that I will eventually become a stranger to you, I feel like I’ve become a stranger to the entire world. Though the wind is strong, it bypasses my soul.”
…
…
Zong Ye tore out the page with the poem.
In September, he packed his belongings and boarded a train to Beijing.
Zong Ye felt that his life had been bitter and blurry.
So even for a slight sweetness, a small ripple, he couldn’t let go.
He still hasn’t given up.
The film university in Beijing had posted many recruitment advertisements. Those posters with company logos stretched for a long way, as if paving his wild imagination into a visible path.
…
…
August 3, 2020.
It rained in Shanghai that day, and a few hours later, the rain stopped.
23Epoch was exceptionally lively.
Wen Shu was helping check tickets out of boredom until someone handed her an ID card.
The name on it made Wen Shu pause, looking twice to confirm.
Jiang. Chu. Yi.
Wen Shu stood up straight and looked up.
The woman in front of her wore a beige knit short T-shirt, looking out of place, dressed like a good girl.
She removed her mask, indeed looking very obedient.
Ignoring the impatient expressions of those waiting in line behind, Wen Shu slowly asked a question outside the normal procedure, “Are you single?”
The woman answered, “Yes.”
After she went in, Wen Shu called someone over to help check tickets. Walking elsewhere, she took out her phone, intending to notify Zong Ye.
To her surprise, the small group chat had already exploded.
Amidst the constantly scrolling messages, Wen Shu typed: “@Zong Ye, I asked for you, your goddess is still single, go for it.”
Jiang Chuyi, of course, didn’t know she was being watched by so many people, nor did she know that the rapper on stage, lacking professional ethics, deliberately splashed water toward her.
The lights inside the venue flickered, and Jiang Chuyi pushed open the stairwell door to enter.
A few minutes later, a man wearing a loose short-sleeved shirt came down from the second floor and walked straight toward that door.
…
…
It had also rained that day.
In the dim stairwell, Jiang Chuyi had taken a fall and picked up a fallen star.
