A Hazy Fog (Part 1)

The moment Lee Sun-hee's strange Chinese pronunciation abruptly stopped, Zhou Zeyu was immersed in great shock and didn't even notice that the video had quietly ended and the computer screen had gone dark again.

She turned around, and the door had been opened at some point. Solko stood there silently, watching her so calmly.

"This is what you want me to see, right?"

Rather than questioning, it was more like an affirmation. She was so certain that she didn't even use a question word. Solkov, of course, knew that he didn't need to explain further, so he simply acquiesced.

"This is what I want you to know."

Zhou Zeyu closed his eyes, seemingly feeling a little dizzy. He reached out to steady himself on the chair, then sat down without thinking and covered his eyes.

Solkov's voice sounded somewhat helpless: "Ah, I didn't mean to make you cry."

Zhou Zeyu took a deep breath, seemingly wanting to say something, but in the end she only let out an incomprehensible sob and waved her hand to indicate that she was alright.

"I'm sorry," he said very softly, as if he were half-kneeling in front of her, "I thought that giving you this before you left would make you happier, or at least prevent you from crying."

Zhou Zeyu finally couldn't hold back any longer, slowly lowered her hand, and looked at him with teary eyes: "My God, Sorkov, why did you do this?"

He was stunned, completely unprepared for this kind of question. It didn't sound like a reproach, nor was it a sign of joy. He couldn't figure out what it was at all, and just nervously pursed his lips, unsure of what to say.

However, before he could finish speaking, Zhou Zeyu suddenly shook her head gently, reached out, and hugged him without warning.

Her arms wrapped around him lightly, and her voice rang out: "I just want to say that you've done enough for me, Sorkov, you don't need to do any more."

Sorkov licked his lips, which were slightly stinging from being too dry, and felt that his voice sounded weak and even inhuman.

"I just did what I wanted to do, that's all. Zhou Zeyu, I hope your future will be bright, and you are the best table tennis player in my heart."

Zhou Zeyu seemed to burst into laughter through his tears, "Come on, how many matches have you actually watched? You've only watched my matches, haven't you?"

"But you are still the best."

Her chin rested on his shoulder, and she let out a soft, questioning sound through her nose: "Not good enough, Solkov. I wasn't good enough to begin with, so how can I be the best?"

He put his hand on her back. "Why do you think that?"

Zhou Zeyu remained silent for a while, as if trying her best to think of what tone to use to make herself seem less sad, but Solkov knew that she had failed in the end, because he felt tears dripping onto his neck, very cold.

"Because I didn't win the most important championship."

Sorkov closed his eyes, trying to make his voice sound nonchalant. "Not all achievements should be measured by championships."

“You’re lying. You know better than anyone how important the championship is to me. Sorkov, if such an opportunity were presented to you and you failed, I don’t believe you would be able to let it go so easily. If you can’t do it, neither can I.”

What's really annoying is that she was right again.

Sorkov gradually realized that his disguise was failing him in front of her, or to put it more cruelly, it seemed to have never worked, but he still said, "In any case, I firmly believe in my own ideas."

"Just like I told you a long time ago, you should know that you are a great athlete and retire with pride in yourself, instead of hating yourself forever because of that defeat, or even denying yourself. You will suffer for the rest of your life."

"I know...I know."

Her tone gradually became urgent, and even her hugging movements unconsciously became more forceful.

"Of course I know I should do it, but I can't."

Sorkov felt her breath on his neck, the warm breath mingling with tears, and his mind was almost completely scrambled by the chaotic situation.

“I,” his voice was so hoarse that the words were almost inaudible, and clearing his throat did not help at all, “I don’t know what to say to you, Zhou Zeyi. I have already told you everything I wanted to say. If you are willing, tell me what you think.”

But Zhou Zeyu didn't say anything more. She silently let go of the hug, took a tissue and covered her eyes. The thin tissue was quickly soaked with tears, and Sorkov could even vaguely see her eyes.

He knelt on one knee in front of her, gently placing his hand on her knee. He didn't say anything more. He knew that Zhou Zeyu needed to cry the most right now. She didn't need comfort or anything else; she just needed to let her tears flow freely.

After experiencing so much, Zhou Zeyi is no longer the fragile and helpless girl she once was. She is strong and has supported herself for a long time. Many things are self-evident, and he doesn't need to say anything more. She already knows everything.

So Zhou Zeyu didn't mention those things. She wiped away her tears, looked up at him, her eyes red, but the corners of her mouth were forced upwards.

“I was going to say this at the airport, but you didn’t come. But thankfully, I still have the chance to say it now.” She stared at him intently, her dark eyes shimmering under the light with the lingering tears. “Sorkov, thank you so much.”

Sorkov felt his heart suddenly clench, as if it were tightly bound by something, making it hard to breathe. His heart was pounding unbearably, pulling at his nerves, and he felt pain screaming all over his body.

When he learned that Zhou Zeyu was leaving, Sorkov didn't know what to do. It all happened so suddenly, giving him no time to prepare. He didn't even understand how to face this separation.

Parting is always unbearable. Two people who would never have met in the vast sea of ​​people are fortunate enough to meet by chance under the arrangement of fate. If they part ways again, the world is so big that they will never meet again.

He has already said goodbye to too many people and doesn't want to say goodbye to one more.

When Zhou Zeyu sat next to him on the boat, she asked him why he hadn't come to see her off. Sorkov actually heard her, but he was speechless.

How could he say goodbye? With what reason and in what mood would he come to the airport and watch the plane carrying her slowly disappear into the horizon? Could his emotions allow him to do all this calmly and rationally? No, he couldn't.

Sorkov was not an upright person. In fact, he was sometimes indecisive and unable to make decisions. He was also unable to face the reality in front of him. He could use escapism and ignoring it as a high-sounding reason, and he often did so.

But now it's different. The person in front of him isn't someone indifferent; she is Zhou Zeyu, the person he has looked up to for so long and cherished for so many years. He doesn't want to treat her like that.

Sorkov often thought that if the day ever came to say goodbye, perhaps it would be best not to meet again. He didn't want an overly sentimental farewell. Knowing Zhou Zeyi's personality, he thought she would say goodbye to him seriously and say something like thank you for taking care of him. At that time, Sorkov wouldn't be able to hold back, and he would really be reluctant to part with her.

As it turned out, he was right, but the location wasn't a busy airport. By a twist of fate, it all happened in this small, dimly lit study. And he actually started to feel fortunate that at least two people knew about his lapse in composure.

Aren't you angry with me?

Zhou Zeyi seemed to smile: "You don't want me to leave."

The tone was so confident that it left no room for rebuttal.

“So why should I blame you?” She pursed her lips, seemingly trying to hide some emotion. “Back then at the airport, I was squatting on my suitcase waiting for you, and I suddenly understood a lot of things.”

Her words came to an abrupt halt, as if she were deliberately trying to entice him to ask for the next answer.

Sorkov wanted to ask her what she had figured out, but he suddenly realized that it didn't seem to matter anymore.

The air after the rain was heavy and stuffy. The two of them were squeezed into this small space, and for a moment even their breathing became slow. Their breaths slowly touched and then intertwined in a humid and stuffy way.

It's a bit too close.

Her voice was very soft, almost a whisper: "I'll miss you too."

They were so close that their eyes could barely focus. Zhou Zeyu had been looking down, but when she tentatively raised her eyes to look at him again, he suddenly smiled.

Then she was once again enveloped in a strong embrace, Solkov's firm forearms encircling her, and she could even feel his heartbeat in his left chest, so clear and resounding in the quiet space that it was almost deafening.

"Zhou Zeyu, why don't you ever realize that you are actually a very good person?"

Do you think I am?

"Yes, that's you."

Zhou Zeyu wanted to say something, and she even started to say "but," but Solkov stopped her and shook his head firmly.

"Stop denying me, Zhou Zeyu. Don't you understand why I showed you that video? Because I think you don't know what a great athlete you are."

In fact, Sorkov's thinking was very simple. He knew that Zhou Zeyu knew everything, but what she lacked most was the confidence she should have in herself. Why had someone who was once so proud become so cautious and even self-deprecating?

The answer is simple: from a very early age, Zhou Zeyu became the person who understands Zhou Zeyu the least in the world.

Since that failure, she has never faced herself honestly. Because of fear and disappointment, over time she has come to not even understand herself anymore. The contrast between her past and present self is too cruel, to the point that she has no idea how to face the omnipotent self she once was.

The rapid and unexpected fall from genius to mortal can destroy almost any proud person. Zhou Zeyu was once so proud, but things always turn out the opposite of what they should be, and that pride turned into inferiority complex years later.

Therefore, she deliberately buried all her honors and glories deep in her memory, leaving only her lows and setbacks on the surface.

She seemed to exhale slowly, her voice faintly carrying a hint of joy, but that almost non-existent joy only brought Sorkov heartache.

“Sorkov,” she gently broke free from the embrace, pursing her lips and seemingly forcing herself to at least show a tiny smile, “you know, it’s been so many years since anyone has complimented me like that.”

"There are so many geniuses in this world, before me and after me, that there are too many to count. What am I to them?"

Zhou Zeyu looked at him frankly, her voice so calm that no one could detect any joy or sorrow, as if she had long since become numb from day and night, able to speak such painful words without changing her expression.

“My country has no shortage of champions, medals and honors are plentiful. The glory I have won is not even icing on the cake. People always expect me to always be the best, and I think I should be, but I can’t.”

"Those criticisms and accusations are what I should bear. As for why I've gotten to where I am today, it's entirely my own doing, so there's nothing more to say."

“Sorkov, I am very grateful for all that you have done for me, and I also hope that one day I can do what you said, but many things are not easy to do. I should also face reality. The reality is that I have not done well enough, and I am by no means great. That word can be used to describe someone better than me.”

After she finished speaking, the slightly upturned corners of her mouth seemed to lose their support and gradually collapsed under Sorkov's gaze. Her facial muscles barely maintained their dignity under the control of her conscious mind, but her eyes were becoming more and more sorrowful.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, but the silence did not feel awkward; on the contrary, it gave them an indescribable sense of peace.

It was as if they were meant to sit here in silence, comforting each other with their subtle gazes in the dim light. It was a scene that should have appeared long ago, but it just so happened to appear in the present, so far in the past.

In a daze, Zhou Zeyu seemed to hear Sorkov sigh. He couldn't detect any extra emotion in his voice, but it was like a faint ripple on a calm surface of water. He raised his hand and gently brushed his fingertips across the corner of her eye.

What exactly did they do to you?

Perhaps because he had been soaking in water for a long time, his fingertips were very smooth. When they touched her cheek, she could not even feel the touch, as if a drop of water was gently sliding down.

"How could someone who used to be so proud be turned into this by them..."