Agreement
The silence on the other end of the phone was like the stagnant air on a winter night in Beijing, cold and heavy.
Zhou Yu clutched his phone, his fingertips cold, his heart beating frantically in his chest as he waited for Zhang Chenzhi's reaction. He could clearly hear the subtle breathing coming from the other side, and could even imagine the frown and dimming eyes that might be on my face at this moment.
"……It doesn't matter."
After a long time, my voice finally came, low, with a hint of fatigue that was hard to conceal, and even a hint of alienation that Zhou Yu had never shown to Zhou Yu before.
"Studying is important, go ahead."
These few simple words cut like a blunt knife through my heart, making Zhou Yu feel even more uncomfortable than if I had complained directly. He would rather I lose my temper, complain, than remain calm and resigned to my fate.
"Zhang Chenzhi, I..."
He desperately wanted to explain, to apologize, but found that words were so pale and powerless. Every missed appointment had a legitimate reason, each one related to his future and his struggle in the new environment, but these reasons were so repeated that even he felt like excuses.
"It's really okay," I interrupted him, trying to regain my usual gentle tone, but it still felt forced. "Prepare for the group discussion and do well on the next test. It's cold, so dress warmly."
I couldn't help but give a few more instructions, then hung up the phone in a hurry.
Listening to the busy tone on the phone, Zhou Yu slowly lay down on the cold wall, tears silently flowing out of his eyes.
Looking at the pile of financial textbooks and draft papers filled with calculations on her desk, she felt an unprecedented sense of confusion and suffocation. Was the path he had chosen really the right one?
For a seemingly "realistic" and "stable" future, he is overdrawing his current happiness and may even lose the most precious person in his life.
Zhou Yu was absent-minded throughout that entire Sunday.
He listened to the discussion of the top students in a hurry, his mind echoing over and over again with my tired final "It's okay." In the evening, when the discussion ended, he declined Chen Hui's suggestion to go to dinner together and returned to the dormitory in a daze.
He turned on his phone and unconsciously clicked on the chat interface with me.
Our last conversation was yesterday, when I excitedly told him I had finished my homework and asked what he wanted to eat tomorrow. He flipped through the pages, looking at the once dense, sharing-filled daily feed—parts of my paintings, strange sculptures on campus, complaints about the cafeteria food; his class schedule, complaints about the difficulty of advanced math, and sharing about a kitten he saw on the street...
I don’t know when it started, but such communication became less and less frequent, replaced by “I’m busy”, “I have a meeting”, “I need to finish the drawing”, “I need to review”, “I’m tired, I’m going to sleep first”.
A great panic seized him.
He can't go on like this.
He took a deep breath and dialed my video call. It rang for a long time, and just when he thought I wouldn't answer, the video call was connected.
Why don't you answer? Stupid.
The screen was shaky. The background was a familiar studio, but I was alone, the lights dim. My face appeared on the screen, looking haggard, with even a hint of blue stubble on my chin. "Xiao Yu?" My voice was a little hoarse, questioning.
"Zhang Chenzhi," Zhou Yu looked at me and felt a lump in his throat. "I'm sorry."
I was visibly stunned on the other side of the screen, as if I hadn't expected him to start with an apology. I stared at him in silence.
"I know, I've been... breaking appointments lately, always saying I'm busy," his voice was slightly choked, "I didn't mean it. The finance courses are really much harder than I thought, and everyone around me is so amazing. I... I'm having a hard time keeping up, and I dare not slack off. I'm afraid of not being able to keep up, afraid of being left behind, afraid of letting... letting down my own choice." He finally expressed his inner fear and pressure.
I just listened quietly, the alienation in my eyes slowly dissipated, replaced by heartache.
"I know it's hard for you," I said softly, "I just...Xiao Yu, I just feel like I can't touch you anymore."
There was a deep sense of powerlessness in my voice. "Your world is getting further and further away from me. I don't understand what you say, and I can't help you solve your problems. Even meeting you has become such a luxury. Sometimes I look at your messages and don't know how to reply. I'm afraid of disturbing you, and I'm also afraid... I'm afraid that there will only be 'um', 'oh', and 'ok' between us."
"I'm really scared of losing you."
This was the first time I had spoken so openly about my uneasiness. These words hit Zhou Yu like a stone, heavy but true.
"No..." Zhou Yu shook his head slightly, tears falling even harder, "That's not the case! Zhou Yu, I need you. What I need is not for you to help me solve the problem, what I need is for you to be by my side, to listen to my nonsense, and to give me a hug. It's my fault, I pushed myself too hard, I pushed you away..."
"You're all I have."
His voice was a little unclear, and all the pressure, grievances, confusion and longing for me during this period were vented out.
He told me how devastated he was when he failed the microeconomics exam, how out of tune he felt when getting along with those classmates who had clear goals, and even told me about the inner struggle and fear of the future when he chose finance.
I listened quietly on the other end, without interrupting and without intending to interrupt.
When he was crying so hard that he couldn't speak, I just said softly, "I'm listening, please continue."
I waited until Zhou Yu's emotions had calmed down before I spoke. My voice was much calmer and contained more hidden meanings. "Xiao Yu, listen. There's no right or wrong in choices. The hard way is the uphill road. You're great, much stronger than you think. You don't have to feel sorry for me. I understand your pressure."
I paused and continued, "But we can't go on like this. Distance and academics aren't a problem, but if communication and sharing are cut off, it's truly over."
"Then what should we do?" Zhou Yu asked. I could no longer tell what emotion he was feeling.
"Let's make a pact, okay?" I looked at him on the screen, my eyes serious. "No matter how busy you are, you must call me every night before going to bed, even if it's only five minutes. Just tell me what happened that day, whether happy or sad. Don't think of it as a disturbance."
"We'll meet at least once every two weeks. The distance doesn't matter, we'll take turns visiting each other. When we meet, no one is allowed to bring homework or think about studying. We'll just be together, just like before."
"Also, how about trying to understand each other's world? You can show me your models even though I don't understand them, but I want to hear you talk about them. I can also tell you about my paintings, even if they seem abstract to you."
My proposal was as specific and practical as possible, but it instantly dispelled the fog and panic in Zhou Yu's heart.
He nodded vigorously, his face a little red: "Okay, I promise you, I will do it!"
That late-night video call was like a complete emotional reconciliation and relationship repair.
We honestly exposed our vulnerabilities and insecurities, and found ways to cope with distance and differences.
In the following days, we began to work hard to fulfill our promise.
No matter how busy I am, I will always make a five-minute phone call before going to bed.
Sometimes Zhou Yu would eat takeout while complaining about his teammates slacking off, and sometimes I would sharpen pencils while complaining about the professor's harsh demands.
Although it was just a trivial daily routine, it reconnected their lives.
Meeting is still not easy, but it has become more precious and of higher quality.
We really put study and work behind us and enjoy our time together wholeheartedly.
Sometimes I take Zhou Yu to visit the 798 Art District and see all kinds of unique exhibitions; sometimes Zhou Yu takes me to the National Library, where we read quietly for a while and then go out for a delicious meal together.
I would still draw him pictures of him dozing off in the library or catching up on sleep on my shoulder on the subway. He, in turn, began using his phone to record my silhouette as I looked intently at a picture book or interacted with street performers.
Zhou Yu tried to explain his study of options and futures, but it always ended with, "It's just a risk management tool!" I tried to explain the deconstruction and reconstruction of postmodern art, but it also usually ended with, "It's just a feeling!" Then we would both burst out laughing at this miscommunication.
After laughing, although I still don’t understand the profoundness of the other person’s profession, I miraculously feel another form of understanding and acceptance.
.
I may not understand your world, but I am willing to listen and cheer for your journey in it.
Winter in Beijing is very cold and windy.
But every time we meet, the warm hug when we part seems to accumulate enough heat to support us through the next two weeks of busyness and longing.
At the end of the semester, Zhou Yu faced his final exam in financial mathematics. The night before, he was so nervous he could barely sleep. At midnight, he received a compressed file from me. He opened it and found a series of beautifully hand-drawn electronic cards.
The first image shows a cute little Zhou Yu, steam rising from his head, battling a bunch of symbolic monsters with the letters "Σ" and "∫." The caption reads, "Math monsters! Back off!" The second image shows little Zhou Yu sitting atop a mountain of books, looking smug and proud, wearing a doctoral hat.
The caption reads: [The King of Finance! Arrives!] The third picture is a chibi version of my drawing of "September: First Meeting," with two characters holding hands. The caption reads: [Don't be afraid, I'm always here.] The last picture is blank, with only one line of text: [The test is over, I'll give you a perfect score here!]
Zhou Yu looked at the paintings, crying and laughing at the same time. All her tension and anxiety seemed to be soothed by these warm brushstrokes. She texted him: "I really don't know what to say to you, Zhang Chenzhi. Of course I can get a perfect score on the test."
I replied, "Of course you can. My God is omnipotent."
A relationship between people from different schools is like a long-distance voyage that requires constant adjustments and refueling. There are calm waters and stormy waves.
It tests not only the passion of love, but also each other's patience, wisdom and determination to grow together.
That winter, we stumbled and learned to steer the boat. Although we were clumsy, we held each other's hands tightly and had the courage to cross the icy sea and reach spring.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
