Farewell dinner with another group of people
That summer, the passage of time became a blur.
Occasionally there would be sporadic news, which would cause a few ripples but would quickly return to silence.
Lu Xingye sent a photo from Beijing, which showed a corner of his studio. There was an unfinished landscape on the easel, and the outline of an unfamiliar high-rise building outside the window.
The postscript was just a few words: "Happy graduation."
In the Hanshi team's group, only Jiang Yuanzhou politely replied "thank you", and then there was no sound.
The group was once very lively, but the last chat record was from half a year ago.
I hesitated for a long time, but finally called Lulu.
After a long busy tone in the receiver, there was a cold system prompt tone.
"Niannian, thank you for still thinking of me. Lulu...she's in much more stable condition now. The doctor recommended minimizing contact with her past, fearing it might cause her distress. You...you're doing well too."
In the evening, Aunt Zhou called back on her landline, her tone polite but distant, "If there's nothing else, don't contact me anymore. Let Lulu start her new life peacefully."
I held the phone, feeling empty inside.
Half a year ago, we squeezed into Lulu's small room and made a solemn agreement that we would go to the beach after the college entrance examination, watch the sunrise all night, and dye our hair in exaggerated colors together.
The words are still fresh in our ears, but now the protagonists who were promised to meet have scattered all over the place.
The farewell dinner for Class 7 was scheduled for an evening in August at a newly opened buffet restaurant in Hanchuan.
I had no interest at first, but after thinking about it, I decided to go anyway.
It can also be considered a kind of ritual, and I need to personally put a visible end to these three years.
The students gathered in groups of three or five, taking photos, laughing, and toasting each other with beer mixed with Sprite. The air was filled with a deliberately created, strong atmosphere of carnival.
I took a small plate of fruit and found a seat in the corner.
Sipping the orange soda in the cup and looking at the lively scene in front of me, I felt a strange sense of alienation.
These familiar yet unfamiliar faces in front of me.
We attended classes together in Class 7's classroom for three years, did countless of the same tests, and worked hard for the same goal.
But when we parted ways, I was shocked to realize how little I knew about them.
Their preferences, their troubles, and the stories behind them are almost blank to me.
For three years, I have not made a single friend who can be called a "close friend" in this class of dozens of people.
More than three years.
For a long time, my world seemed to be able to accommodate only the sky of the Hanshi family compound and the few companions who grew up with me.
When they all left in their own ways, I realized that I was just an abrupt bystander.
"Lin Nian, I didn't expect you to end up enrolling in a school so far away!"
A girl who usually doesn’t talk much came over with a cup in hand and said, “You seem quite quiet, but also quite assertive.”
"Yeah, you seem quiet most of the time, but you're very resourceful at critical moments." Another boy echoed. He used to be my math class representative.
"Honestly, Lin Nian," his cheeks flushed slightly, apparently because he had been drinking, and he became more talkative, "Among the girls in our class, I think you are quite special."
"Oh? What's so special about it?" I put down the cup, a little surprised.
"It's just... very quiet, but not aloof. It's like you always have your own little world, not very active, but your grades are pretty good. I feel like you're quite popular and can chat with everyone, but I don't see you being particularly clingy with anyone."
He struggled to form his words.
Soon after, several more classmates came over to chat.
A girl once said she envied me for being “always so calm, as if nothing could make you particularly anxious or angry.”
Another boy said that he remembered that I wrote very good essays, and every time the model essay was read aloud, there was a kind of "quiet power".
I listened and could only chuckle.
"Quiet but opinionated", "owning his own world", "calm but powerful"
These comments are strange and fresh.
I didn't even know that this was how I was seen in the eyes of my classmates in Class 7.
I have been indulging in nostalgia and self-pity for my lost small circle, stubbornly believing that my world collapsed with their departure.
But I never took the initiative to approach the students in Class 7, and naturally I never saw the possible existence of another form of friendship.
Maybe…there are more possibilities for friendship than I thought.
And the stage of youth does not only have a few fixed protagonists.
Thinking of this, the loss and panic in my heart caused by the separation of my old friends seemed to be diluted a little.
It was like a string that had been taut for a long time finally relaxed a little. Although the hollow sound was still there, there was no longer the stinging pain of being about to break.
The farewell dinner ended with a group singing of "Friends" out of tune.
Everyone said goodbye to each other, saying things like "keep in touch" and "good luck in college", but they all knew in their hearts that most people would be scattered around the world and just become a name in each other's address book.
True growth is not about reaching the summit amid cheers, but about learning to quietly reconcile with past dependence, narrow-mindedness and regrets, and then carrying your luggage alone and embarking on a new journey.
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