The Final Chapter

Cheng Zhou left Nie Shanglin again.

After enjoying all the good moments together, Cheng Zhou told him that he disgusted him, to the point where just seeing him made him feel physically sick.

It turns out that some things don’t get forgiven just because you know you were wrong; the person who got hurt might not give you even an ounce of chance.

Three months later, Nie Shanglin rushed to finish his work, giving himself a few days off to take a trip to Tibet—he had heard that after their breakup, Cheng Zhou had gone there alone.

Throughout the journey, he found it hard to express his feelings. While he was coming to a sense of calm, he couldn’t help but think about how Cheng Zhou felt at that time.

After losing someone, you often want to search for traces of them in the places they walked or lived, seeking comfort and reminiscing about a past you didn’t truly appreciate.

As he walked to a certain spot, Nie Shanglin stopped; he had seen this view in the photos Cheng Zhou had taken and published.

So, Nie Shanglin lingered there, taking pictures and trying to find the angle Cheng Zhou had used. By the roadside, there was an old man with a stall. After thinking for a moment, Nie Shanglin approached him to strike up a conversation.

The old man told him about the local customs and shared the story of not looking back while walking around the Potala Palace. He laughed heartily and said, “A few years ago, a young man came here, and you remind me a lot of him.”

Nie Shanglin’s heart skipped a beat, and he hurriedly asked, “What kind of person was he?”

The old man reminisced, “He looked like a cheerful young man, but he was always frowning. He was very good-looking, which is why I remember him among so many visitors here. I told him that story, and after hearing it, he stood there for a long time, then started walking around the Potala Palace, turning back with each step. When he returned to my side after making a full circle, he began to cry. He squatted down and cried for a long time. I watched him for a while, and later he smiled and thanked me before leaving.”

Nie Shanglin listened and said thank you to the old man.

He wanted to know what truth Cheng Zhou had seen, so he walked around the Potala Palace, turning back with each step.

After completing the circle, he stood aside and watched the pilgrims, and ultimately couldn’t hold back his tears.

———–

After his return, Nie Shanglin grew increasingly silent. He continued to act obsessively, hiring someone to follow Cheng Zhou. Even during his days in Tibet, he received photos of Cheng Zhou from a private investigator on his phone.

Yet, he found himself lacking a proper reason to meet Cheng Zhou.

The following summer, Nie Shanglin was invited to the sixtieth anniversary of the department at the university he and Cheng Zhou had attended. The school decided to hold a more grandiose graduation ceremony for that year’s graduates, inviting successful alumni to return, whether to perform or to share their experiences through speeches. To his surprise, Nie Shanglin was among those invited.

Cheng Zhou was also invited as a renowned success story—having transitioned from managing a company to becoming an award-winning photographer recognized worldwide.

When the university sent out the invitations, Nie Shanglin confirmed his attendance, which provided him with a legitimate opportunity to greet Cheng Zhou. Moreover, he wanted to see how their alma mater—the place where they spent some of the brightest years of their lives and to reflect on the time he had missed.

He wasn’t sure if Cheng Zhou would attend, considering the many memories they shared there. For Nie Shanglin, those memories were incredibly precious, but for Cheng Zhou, they might not hold the same value. Given how much he repulsed Cheng Zhou, Nie Shanglin feared that even being in the same place would remind Cheng Zhou of the kind of jerk he had been

However, a few days later, he heard that Cheng Zhou would also be attending and performing on stage, singing and playing the guitar.

This news filled him with both happiness and anxiety.

He was happy because he had only dared to learn about Cheng Zhou from a distance, even hiring a private investigator to follow his daily life like a stalker, all while trying to stay hidden and never daring to meet him. Now, he finally had a legitimate reason to see him—they were both invited. But he also felt anxious, fearing the indifference in Cheng Zhou’s eyes and the occasional look of disgust he might see, as if he were trash. Just thinking about it made his heart ache and feel suffocated.

This day has finally arrived.

Nie Shanglin woke up early, styled his hair, and dressed in a well-fitting suit. He stood in front of the mirror, checking himself from side to side, afraid that even the slightest flaw might dirty Cheng Zhou’s eyes when he saw him.

He arrived a bit early, surprising the welcoming staff off guard. He waved his hand dismissively, telling them not to worry about him and to focus on their own tasks. Then he found a seat in the audience and sat down.

The auditorium was large, capable of accommodating nearly two thousand people. After the graduates from their department took their seats, there were still many empty spots available for students from other years and majors to sit and watch the evening event.

Because they had heard that many seniors were invited tonight, including a powerful figure from the Nie family, a lot of people came hoping to catch a glimpse. Besides the seats reserved for the graduates of their department, all the other scattered seats had been snatched up early by students eager to secure a good spot.

After a while, Cheng Zhou arrived.

Nie Shanglin instantly held his breath.

The auditorium was still being prepared, with the lights dimmed in other areas. Only the stage lights flickered and intertwined. Cheng Zhou moved a stool to the center of the stage, sat down with his guitar, and positioned the microphone in front of him. He hummed a few notes into the microphone, strummed the guitar a few times to test the sound, and then nodded at the person in charge of the lighting and music for the evening. When asked if he wanted to sing to test the microphone, Cheng Zhou politely shook his head, smiling brightly, and indicated that he just wanted to try out the guitar’s sound.

Behind him, the LED screen displayed a message for the graduates at this evening’s ceremony—“May your future shine bright.”

“Very well said,” thought Nie Shanglin, hidden in the dark audience seats below.

Cheng Zhou looked great as he smiled, his hair smooth and flowing. Sitting there, holding a guitar, he occasionally strummed the strings and tuned it, bathed in bright white light, making him appear radiant.

The event started at seven, but by a little past six, the audience seats were already filled. Cheng Zhou was also seated on the performance stage.

At exactly seven o’clock, the event officially began.

Four hosts, dressed in formal attire, read the opening remarks. Following that were the school’s leaders delivering their monotonous reflections on the future, summaries of the past, and encouragement for the students. Then came the speeches by notable alumni. When Nie Shanglin took the stage, thunderous applause erupted from the audience. In such a chaotic environment, he still managed to spot Cheng Zhou among the crowd.

He spoke a few simple sentences before stepping down.

Next were various performance segments.

Finally, Nie Shanglin awaited Cheng Zhou’s performance. When Cheng Zhou took the stage, he cleared his throat, smiled slightly, and said in a clear voice, “I’m sure some of you know that I’m your senior from previous graduating classes.”

Cheers erupted from the audience, and someone shouted, “I’m your fan!”

Cheng Zhou gestured for everyone to quiet down, then continued, “The seniors before you have already shared great advice regarding your future employment, and I don’t have much to add. After some thought, I can only leave you with one piece of advice: don’t linger too long over things that aren’t worth it. Look ahead, and you’ll find a better life waiting for you.”

“Well then, next, I will sing a song for everyone.”

As soon as the words fell, the clear sound of the guitar began to play.

The moment Cheng Zhou opened his mouth, Nie Shanglin felt as if his time would forever stand still at this moment.

The once pure and bright boy, whose smile was radiant, had shed his youthful innocence over the long years. His facial features became more defined, yet the ravines in his heart remained unfilled by time, still shining with a dazzling light.

Cheng Zhou’s eyes and brows carried a hint of unspeakable weariness as he sat in the center of the stage on a chair, head bowed, holding the guitar and casually strumming. A beam of white light fell upon him, and he sang softly along with the melody:

“I often blame myself for not…

I often regret not keeping you around…

…

…

These years have passed neither well nor poorly; it just seems like there’s one less person around.”

The melody he hummed was simple, his eyes bright and clear, filled with abundant emotion.

“How much love can be rekindled

How many are willing to wait

When we learn to cherish and return

Yet we don’t know if that love

Will still be there”

In that moment, Nie Shanglin’s mind was filled with the signature from the Chengzhou social media app—mistakes and missed opportunities often happen simultaneously.

Once something is missed, it is truly missed; no one will continue to wait for you in the same place.

Nie Shanglin felt a dull pain in his heart, and suddenly, his face went cold.

“How much love can be revived?

How many people are worth waiting for?

When love has already become a vast ocean,

Is there still the courage to love?”

At least, Nie Shanglin knew that he truly was not worth waiting for.

After the school celebration that day, Cheng Zhou stood at the school gate with his guitar, next to Nie Shanglin. The warm yellow afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves of the poplar trees and cast shadows on the ground. Cheng Zhou, with his hands in his pockets, looked at the small shop across the school that had already changed, then gently tapped his toes on the ground and slowly said, “Nie Shanglin, you don’t know how well I’ve been doing since I left you.”

Nie Shanglin felt a sting in his eyes and nodded slightly.

“I’m sorry.” He finally learned not to be so self-righteous, but he had already missed the most important person.

Cheng Zhou nodded, said nothing in reply, smiled at Nie Shanglin, and turned to walk away with a light, cheerful step.

What’s done is done; spilled water cannot be retrieved.

In the end, Nie Shanglin still didn’t know if he had forgiven himself.

Sometimes, Nie Shanglin would think that if he had simply become disabled, he could have morally bound Cheng Zhou to stay by his side, unable to go anywhere, until he died.

He even considered resorting to self-harm as a way to gain sympathy, but he was afraid—afraid that if he did this, Cheng Zhou would look down on him even more and might even say, “Die if you want to but stay far away from me.”

In those aimless days, he missed out on his youth countless times.

People are always foolish, he thought, which is why they often realize what’s truly important only after losing it. The boy who once was willing to go to hell and back for him ended up being left with scars.

In the end, he had to bear the weight of regret alone in the much longer years ahead, living numbly while watching the memories of the past.

It was his fault; he could have lived a healthy and long life, but ultimately he would never obtain the one he desired most.