0083 Star-Snatching (1)
I was born into that kind of family, and there was no way I could believe in Buddhist teachings. My grandfather, father, and I were all staunch materialists, but because of Lingling, I came to believe in destiny.
I met Lingling again the following summer.
At that time, I was already in my second year of high school. I knew that my target city for university was only City B, so I was quite attentive to my studies.
My time in J City feels like a countdown, and I've long since forgotten that little incident from a year ago.
Only the girl's last words would occasionally pop into my mind.
That morning, she was almost late for school and was being urged to go. I awkwardly dealt with the concern of He's parents, and then, just as the girl was finally about to leave after a bit of fuss, with one foot already outside, her head suddenly "turned back":
"Brother, you must wait for me to come back!"
That crisp shout didn't disappear from my ears after she left; instead, it kept popping up from time to time throughout the year I was gone.
I also remember her face when I lay in bed after returning to my empty room.
I ultimately attributed this behavior to a guilty conscience.
Of course, I didn't wait for her to get out of school. I couldn't imagine how absurd that would be. After finishing breakfast, I declined Mr. and Mrs. He's offer to stay any longer. I called the driver my father had assigned me, and only after getting into the car did I realize how far I had gone yesterday—I had actually left the center of J city.
I always quickly brushed away that slight discomfort in my heart, after all, I hadn't made any promises to her, and I believed that her asking me to wait for her meant nothing serious.
But there will always be bubbles of regret rising from the corners of my mind, which I suppress and then resurface, suppress and resurface again. It just doesn't happen very often.
J City No. 1 High School holds a joint sports meet once a year, with both junior and senior high school sections participating. The entire school is closed for three days. This is undoubtedly a grand event for the students who are buried in their books all day long.
I don't like crowds, but I've been quite content these past two days because of the lax school supervision.
If there are no mandatory events, I usually hide on the school rooftop to smoke.
On the second day of the sports meet, no one signed up for the men's 3000-meter race, so I was dragged into it by the class's sports representative to fill in.
He seemed to hesitate several times before asking me. I noticed that he had been secretly watching me since the start of morning reading, and it wasn't until after evening class that he came to ask me what I wanted.
Perhaps it's because I am indeed somewhat unconventional in the eyes of my classmates. For example, even though I was in the top class, I always hung out with the problem students. Our class monitor caught me smoking at the end of the corridor at least five times. Once, I went to jail for fighting, but I was able to return to school unscathed.
In such cases, being unconventional becomes a sign of being "not to be trifled with."
However, I have never cared about other people's feelings. Besides, this impression that was formed out of nowhere only brings me benefits and no harm. It saves me a lot of unnecessary trouble.
But I didn't make things difficult for the sports committee member.
I wasn't so bad as to go against everyone, but his reaction made it seem like I had done something terribly wrong...
Once I got on the track, I suddenly realized it was understandable why no one signed up for the 3000 meters. The top students were already carrying heavy beer bottles and cramming with books, their physical fitness was so poor that they would be out of breath just climbing a few stairs, how could they possibly run it?
I naturally don't have much of a sense of collective honor, but I don't want to see the sullen face of that class monitor who always strives to be number one in everything, so I'm prepared to just get a third prize to get by.
Just before I reached the finish line, I saw a petite figure flash by in the distance at the second training ground.
That instant, which flashed like a flash of inspiration, something I can only call fate, led me to look up at her.
Right next to me on the playground, a girl in the women's long-distance running group fainted as she walked past me.
I spotted her first when no one else in my group had noticed her, and then I frantically made my way through the crowd and off the track.
I could almost hear the dark-faced squad leader pounding his chest and stamping his feet behind me.
This is the second time I've done something so absurd.
It's simply because I recognized her at a glance.
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