Jingzhe - Seeing the Old Me Through the Eyes of an Old Friend
As the first thunder of March rolled over the city, I was sitting on a beauty salon bed. The beautician gently massaged my temples while the aromatherapy machine exhaled the scent of expensive lavender. This was Gu Yanshen's weekly routine for me. He said that a sophisticated woman needs to be perfect from head to toe.
My phone vibrated in my bag. It was a message from Gu Yanshen: "A thunderstorm is coming. Go home directly after you finish your care. I'll ask Lao Chen to pick you up."
I replied with a single "OK," but my gaze drifted involuntarily to the window. Raindrops began to pound against the glass, and pedestrians on the street hurried to avoid the rain. Suddenly, I spotted a familiar figure in the crowd—Chen Que, my senior from college and former president of the news agency.
He was standing across the street holding a black umbrella, his eyes looking through the rain, as if trying to confirm if it was me.
My heart skipped a beat.
After the nursing session, I asked Lao Chen to wait on the sidewalk, pretending to buy some books. As I pushed open the bookstore door, a crisp chime rang out. Sure enough, Shen Que was standing in front of the bookshelf in the literature section, holding a copy of "News Writing Tutorial."
"Mo Xiaoyu?" He turned around, a look of disbelief in his eyes, "It's really you."
"Senior." I tried to keep my voice steady.
He looked me up and down, his eyes finally resting on the diamond bracelet on my wrist. "You've changed so much. I almost didn't recognize you."
I subconsciously covered the bracelet with my other hand: "People always change."
"Yes." His tone was filled with a faint sigh. "But I still remember what you said at graduation. You said you would use your pen to record the truth, even if it only illuminated a corner."
Those words hit me like a hammer, hitting the softest part of my heart. The person who was once full of ideals has now become a delicate ornament.
"What are you doing now?" he asked.
I opened my mouth, but found myself speechless. What could I say? That my main job now was to stay beautiful and wait for my husband to come home?
"I... am married." In the end, I chose the safest answer.
"I can tell." His eyes swept over the brand names on my body. "He treats you very well."
This sentence should have been a compliment, but it made me feel inexplicably hurt.
The rain was getting heavier and heavier. We stood in front of the bookstore window, watching the rain winding down the glass.
"Remember our first in-depth report?" Chen Que suddenly asked. "You went undercover to investigate illegal workshops in an urban village. You were almost discovered, and your palms were rubbed raw trying to climb over the wall. But you still wrote the article the next day, and that report ended up winning an award."
I remember. Back then, my hands were calloused from constant writing, my nails were clipped short, and I never had a manicure. Now, my hands are white and soft, my nails are exquisitely polished, and even the calluses from holding a pen have long since faded.
"You said at the time that pain made you feel truly alive." The solemn voice was very soft, but it sounded like thunder in my ears.
Live authentically.
Am I really alive now?
Lao Chen honked the car horn, urging me on.
"I have to go." I said in a panic.
Shen Que pulled a business card from his pocket. "I'm still working in journalism. If you ever want to write something, feel free to contact me."
I took the business card and my fingertips paused for a moment on the words "In-depth Investigative Reporter".
Back in the car, Lao Chen glanced at me through the rearview mirror and said, "Madam, your eyes are a little red."
"The wind was so strong just now that sand came in." I turned my head and looked out the window.
The windshield wipers swung rhythmically back and forth, like the pendulum of fate. I remembered every word and every look that Chen Que had just said, and it was like they had torn a hole in my closed world.
When I got home, Gu Yanshen was already there. He stood in front of the French window, looking at the rain outside.
"What books did you buy?" he turned and asked.
Only then did I realize I had left the bookstore empty-handed. "I didn't see anything I wanted to buy."
He walked closer to me and gently stroked the corners of my eyes with his fingers: "Are you crying?"
"No." I took a step back subconsciously. "Just tired."
His eyes darkened for a moment, but soon returned to normal: "Go and rest. I'll call you when dinner is ready."
I fled back to the bedroom, closed the door, and slid down to the floor, my back against the door. The heavy business card sat in my palm, soaked with sweat.
The mirror on the dressing table reflects my current appearance: carefully curly hair, flawless makeup, expensive home clothes. But under this exquisite mask, where is the real Mo Xiaoyu?
I opened the bottom of my jewelry box and found the fountain pen I used in college. The pen itself was covered in dust, but the tip still gleamed with a cold, hard gleam. Back then, this pen was my weapon, I used it to write the truth and expose injustice.
And now, I don’t even have the courage to hold a pen.
During dinner, Gu Yanshen seemed to notice something was wrong with me.
"Did anything special happen today?" he asked casually.
My hand trembled slightly, and the spoon made a crisp sound against the edge of the bowl. "No, it's just... rainy days make me feel depressed."
He stared at me for a long moment before slowly speaking, "Remember the first time we met? It was also on a rainy day like this."
I remember that day. I was soaking wet and in a mess, and he appeared like a savior, holding an umbrella for me. But now, this umbrella has become a cage.
"Your eyes back then were like a frightened deer." His tone was filled with nostalgia. "It made me want to protect you and never let you get hurt."
Protection. What a beautiful word.
But true protection should not be to break the other person's wings and lock her in a golden cage.
That night, I dreamed of my college self for the first time in a long time. She stood on the podium, holding her award certificate, her eyes sparkling. She said to me, "Don't forget who you are."
When I woke up, there was a wet spot on my pillow.
Gu Yanshen was still fast asleep, his arm wrapped around my waist as usual. I gently moved his arm away, stood up and walked to the window.
Daybreak is approaching, and the distant sky is a pale pale. The Waking of Insects has passed, and all things are reviving, but I am gradually withering away in this delicate cage.
But just today, in that familiar bookstore, in the eyes of that old friend, I caught a glimpse of the past.
That’s who I was, and that’s who I long to be again.
My reflection on the window glass overlapped with the morning light. At that moment, I seemed to see the girl with bright eyes, smiling at me.
Perhaps, change begins from this moment.
Maybe, I can find my true self again.
His words were like a stone thrown into the stagnant lake of my heart, creating ripples that had not been seen in a long time.
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