CHAPTER 27: MORNING RUN

By the time Ruan Zhizhi got home, it was already late at night.

Just like always, she turned on the lights, changed her shoes at the entryway, and went into the bathroom to wash up. But after she finished, instead of going straight to bed, she hesitated for a moment, then walked to her desk.

She opened the last drawer on the right and pulled out a thick, password-locked diary.

Inside was a record of all the time she had spent by Li Sichen’s side—

Those endless days of loving without being loved back.

Those sleepless nights of tossing and turning.

Page by page, Ruan Zhizhi flipped through it. Even though she knew deep down that she no longer had any lingering feelings for him, she couldn’t help the faint sigh in her heart.

Time really was the sharpest weapon. What she once thought was unforgettable, carved deep into her soul, had gradually been smoothed away.

When she reached the very last page, she stopped. On it was a sentence she had written on New Year’s Day:

Li Sichen, this year, I won’t like you anymore.

Her fingertips trembled slightly as she picked up the fountain pen tucked inside the diary cover and added a note beneath it:

2016/03/28

Li Sichen, thank you for showing up again after all these years. You made me finally realize—it was never “what you hold onto will surely be returned someday.” It was just my unwillingness to let go of the youth I had given you.

After so many years, I can finally let go of you. And let go of the past.

I hope you live well.

Ruan Zhizhi closed the diary and slipped it back into the inconspicuous drawer. She turned off the desk lamp and burrowed into the warmth of her blankets.

That night, she dreamed.

In her dream, she returned to the spring break of her junior year. Back then, she, Li Sichen, Gu Nian, and Cheng Fengjin had gone together to the famous beach at Santa Monica in California.

The night was deep, and a row of seals lay sprawled across the rocks by the sea, their bellies exposed as they rested comfortably, occasionally letting out a few lazy, contented cries.

The beach was packed with tourists, layer upon layer of people crowding the shore, and they were among them.

Nearby, Cheng Fengjin whispered something to Gu Nian, making her burst into unrestrained laughter. The two of them kept playing and chasing each other along the sand, gradually running farther and farther away.

Ruan Zhizhi watched them with a trace of envy before pulling her gaze back to Li Sichen beside her, pretending to chat casually while carefully hiding the waves of affection surging in her heart.

But behind her, in the distance, stood another man.

Alone. Silent. Standing in the darkness, completely out of place compared to everyone else.

In Ruan Zhizhi’s original memory, during that trip, she hadn’t seen this man at all. But somehow, in the dream she was having now, she could see him perfectly clearly.

He stood quietly in the shadows, watching her panic shyly before another man, his pitch-black eyes deep and unfathomable.

Eyes so cold and dark, yet so piercing—it was unmistakably Shi Yan.

When Ruan Zhizhi jolted awake from her dream, her phone on the nightstand started ringing at that exact moment.

She shook her head slightly, heart still pounding, and answered the call.

“Awake yet?”

The voice was cool and low, with a faint rasp, yet carried a gentleness that made her pause.

Ruan Zhizhi froze for a second, holding her phone, suddenly wondering if she was still dreaming.

The gloomy Shi Yan in her dream and the warm Shi Yan on the other end of the call slowly overlapped into one.

She bit her lip, trying her best to keep her voice calm. “Not yet…”

The man on the other end let out a soft, knowing chuckle. “Then get up now. I’ll wait for you at A University’s track field in half an hour.”

“What are we going to the track for?” Ruan Zhizhi blinked in confusion.

“Running.” His tone was calm, composed, and irrefutable. “Ruan Zhizhi, your physical fitness is far too poor. To avoid another incident like the one at the hospital last time, I believe you need to start jogging every morning to improve your health.”

Ruan Zhizhi broke into a cold sweat, instinctively wanting to reject the idea. “But… I’ve never passed a single physical test from middle school to college.”

“That’s why,” he replied evenly, “the clumsy bird needs to fly early. If you persist, one day you’ll pass.”

Ruan Zhizhi: “…”

…She had no comeback. He made it sound so reasonable she couldn’t argue.

By the time the sky began to lighten, Ruan Zhizhi had washed up, only to realize she couldn’t find a single pair of loose sweatpants in her closet. In the end, she had to settle for a pair of well-fitted, stretchy skinny jeans.

She threw on a white tasseled sweater, stood in front of the bathroom mirror, and frowned at her pale, bare face. After a moment’s hesitation, she applied a soft rose lipstick, carefully drew her eyebrows, and added a thin line of eyeliner.

Changing into a pair of white sneakers at the entrance, she checked herself in the full-length mirror, made sure she looked good, slung a backpack over her shoulders, and finally stepped out the door, satisfied.

Half an hour later, Ruan Zhizhi arrived punctually at A University. Wearing jeans, sneakers, and a backpack, she was relieved to find that, walking among the students on campus, she didn’t look out of place at all.

After all, at twenty-six, in the eyes of these young college kids, she probably already counted as an “auntie.”

On both sides of the track, tall plane trees stood in neat rows, their lush leaves filtering sunlight through the gaps, scattering mottled shadows across the red rubber track.

It had been years since Ruan Zhizhi last saw a school track. The sight of the red lanes instantly reminded her of high school, when she was always the last in class during the 800-meter runs. Even during makeup exams, she could never finish on time. In the end, the P.E. teacher had given up and simply had her collect balls for other students during class—anything to get her to move more.

Back then, she thought it was hell, dreamed of escaping school every single day, desperate to step into society and live independently. But now, looking back, those years of studying were actually the happiest and most carefree time of her life.

As she walked up to the track, she spotted him not far away—Shi Yan, dressed in clean, crisp sportswear, casually leaning against one of the flagpole pillars, his dark eyes lazily fixed on the distance.

But when she looked closer, she noticed a faint flicker of flame dancing between his fingertips.

He was smoking.

He was standing on the university’s flag platform, openly and unapologetically smoking in broad daylight.

Some “model teacher,” huh.

She pursed her lips, ready to walk over, but just then, a young, pretty girl ran past her—straight toward Shi Yan.

Ruan Zhizhi instinctively stopped.

Without thinking, she shifted closer to the shadow of a nearby plane tree, secretly peeking at what was happening.

She saw the girl standing beside Shi Yan, looking nervous and unsure, sneaking quick glances at him before finally speaking in a timid voice: “Professor Shi, can I ask you a question?”

Shi Yan lazily lifted his eyelids, neither nodding nor shaking his head.

Relieved a little by his reaction, the girl spoke quickly, almost breathless: “Do you… have a girlfriend right now?”

Shi Yan shook his head.

It was like watching someone get a sudden confidence boost. The girl’s eyes sparkled as she blurted out, “Then… do you need one? I have a master’s degree, I’m 1.7 meters tall, have good features, no bad habits… I can even cook, clean, and do your laundry.”

Ruan Zhizhi sighed softly. She’d thought this girl had come over to remind him that smoking was prohibited in public areas on campus.

Shi Yan didn’t even bother lifting his eyelids this time. His voice was cold, flat, emotionless:

“Unlucky for you. I prefer someone around 1.65 meters… who can’t cook or do laundry.”

Hiding in the shadows, eavesdropping, Ruan Zhizhi froze.

…Wasn’t that a direct jab at her?

She couldn’t play the qin, chess, calligraphy, or painting, and she thought doing laundry or cooking was exhausting.

The girl froze for a moment. “Professor Shi, are you joking with me?”

“No.” Shi Yan straightened up from leaning against the pillar and tilted his chin in Ruan Zhizhi’s direction. “Like her.”

Ruan Zhizhi felt like she had just been struck by lightning. So he’d already noticed her?! Her whole face went dark. Thinking back, she realized hiding there under his nose to eavesdrop was… ridiculously stupid.

The girl beside Shi Yan already looked completely dejected and left. Meanwhile, Ruan Zhizhi shuffled over step by step, her movements painfully slow, until she finally stopped by his side.

Trying to regain some dignity, Ruan Zhizhi spoke up seriously: “Shi Yan, smoking is prohibited in public areas. As a university professor, you should set an example. You can’t have a negative influence on the students.”

“Oh.” He nodded indifferently, then lazily stubbed out the cigarette and tossed it into the trash can.

The motion was smooth, fluid, and almost graceful.

Ruan Zhizhi: “…”

She hadn’t expected him to be so obedient.

Shi Yan picked up a steaming food container from the side and handed it to her. “Have breakfast first, then we’ll run.”

Ruan Zhizhi obediently took it, opened it, and began eating slowly and carefully.

The two of them sat side by side on the edge of the flag platform. She took bites of her breakfast while Shi Yan just sat quietly next to her, watching her.

From time to time, students jogged past them on the track. Many greeted Shi Yan, of course, but when their eyes fell on Ruan Zhizhi, their expressions became a colorful mix of surprise, curiosity, and even gossip.

Ruan Zhizhi pretended not to notice, lowering her gaze, silently chanting “see no evil, hear no evil” in her head.

Holding the steaming bowl of shredded-chicken wontons, she puffed up her cheeks and asked curiously, “Shi Yan, were you one of those people who were really popular in school since you were little? You know, the type that everyone follows around?”

Shi Yan didn’t answer right away. It was like he was recalling something. His already dark eyes now seemed to carry an even deeper, inky weight, making him look even harder to approach. “No. I didn’t have friends when I was a student.”

Ruan Zhizhi blinked in surprise, almost choking on her wonton. She rolled her eyes, half not believing him. “Don’t lie to me. Someone like you must’ve had friends everywhere.”

But Shi Yan only lit another cigarette, his voice calm and even as he replied, “Ruan Zhizhi, I really didn’t have any friends growing up. You were the first person to walk toward me and reach out your hand. You saved me. So in my life, I can’t be without you. For that… no matter how long I have to wait, it doesn’t matter.”

His voice was light, carried away on the morning breeze, laced faintly with tobacco, dissipating into the air almost instantly.

The mood grew quiet. Ruan Zhizhi bit into her wonton, unable to make sense of his words. But she could feel the heavy loneliness beneath his calm tone, and instinctively knew this wasn’t the time to press him further.

Shi Yan was someone with a story. And it was a very, very sad one.

Ruan Zhizhi thought to herself that she had a responsibility to pull Shi Yan out of the darkness and into a life filled with light and flowers.

After all, he’d always been there for her, playing the role of her guardian.

She wanted to bring him some happiness, too.

Clearing her throat, she raised her voice, full of energy. “Shi Yan, I’m done eating! Let’s go run!”

Shi Yan glanced down at his watch and immediately nodded, agreeing readily. “There’s only an hour left before you need to get to work. Today, just five laps.”

Five laps?! Back in high school, her 800-meter run was only four and a half!

Ruan Zhizhi’s face fell instantly, her tone full of despair. “Are you trying to kill me?”

He laughed softly. It was a faint, beautiful smile, carried gently by the morning breeze, brushing right against her heart.

That one smile was enough to make her mind go blank.

“I’ll run with you.”

After saying that, he started jogging ahead of her. His pace was neither fast nor slow, every movement steady and elegant. After a few steps, he turned back, lifted a hand, and waved for her to follow.

Ruan Zhizhi couldn’t help but laugh and lifted her legs to chase after him.

He was trying every possible way to share her path, no matter where it led.