Moonlight gradually swallows the slight chill of the early morning; upon the marble-paved road just illuminated by the skylight, the dawn breeze blows through a weary body.
The length of the night is devoured by my body.
This is not a good article. Because what I am about to write is the present, not the past.
I do not know how much of my literary grace has been eroded by time. Yet time grants me a new tone; I only hope I can still tell the story clearly to you.
HJJ was my class monitor in high school.
She is very thin. We were in the same class in the first year of high school, and later, quite fortunately, even after the classes were reshuffled, we remained in the same class. Although it seems I didn’t communicate much with her during high school? — or perhaps it seems I didn’t communicate much with any high school classmates — but if I am to write about her, the first thing that comes to mind is still that I always ranked first in the class while she always ranked second; it was like that so many, so many times. I remember that apart from one exam very close to the Gaokao, it seemed to be this way during the latter part of the second year and the entire third year.
Speaking of which, I was quite unhappy about that exam. I still remember walking out of the school gate that afternoon, walking on that slope, my heart filled with resentment towards Teacher Huang. I remember thinking at the time, why did I do so poorly in Math? Then, having not performed well in other subjects either, I was surpassed by her.
HJJ was, of course, extremely happy.
However, so many grades, such small rankings, so many certificates, so many people off-stage, so many gazes, so much honor—looking back through time, what remains? What remains is the joy of that moment, the valor of those years.
I once thought that solving problems was everything. To solve problems others could not was to possess everything. Until the morning self-study on June 8th, the day the Math exam finished, I understood clearly for the first time what powerlessness was. The math papers opened over hundreds of past mornings had lost their meaning. I lay prone on the desk, filled with emptiness and sorrow. Only then did I clearly realize that I had invested too much emotion into something that was bound to end.
One moment I still remember was after learning about the class reshuffling. I remember HJJ coming to me very happily, saying that we could be in the same class again, though I can’t recall the specific details. At that time, I seem unable to recall a single one of the other classmates who ended up in the same class after the reshuffle; I only remember her.
It feels that there was more with HJJ after university. Thanks to relevant policies, she also came to the same school as I did.
I am not sure if I included the possibility of being in the same school as her in my considerations when applying to this school. Of course, even if I did, it was very insignificant.
After all, I had almost no choice; not choosing Physics as a subject led to all trashy majors, so other factors were much more important to me.
We went to West Lake together for a visit. That was shortly after school started in 2023. The wind brushed through the Willow Dyke, strips of green swaying; the lake water was in the distance, the mountains further away, and the blue sky even further.
Strictly speaking, we went to the Zhejiang Provincial Museum on West Lake. What was inside, I cannot remember. I only remember being quite happy at the time.
Then it was '24. It should have been January of '24. I can no longer clearly recall what emotions I held for her back then. I still keep the photo taken with her at that time. She dressed very beautifully. Very beautifully. Very beautifully. She was even more beautiful under the night sky. We had a meal together.
And what about me? Me. I am just too inept at doing these things.
Unknown to me why. My emotions are not as rich as they were in high school. I guess it is an adverse consequence brought about by emotional stability.
Sigh.
2025.7.1
On the first day of the second half of the year, as the sunlight drooped and fell from the canopy of the sky, memories suddenly surged into my barren heart, my restless heart, my uneasy heart.
I thought of the events that occurred after the Gaokao in 2023. Pity that only two years have passed; it is not suitable to write about yet.
2025.7.3
Seeking, searching. Many, many contradictory thoughts collide and battle within my mind. Very tired.
Can I truly trust my own wisdom? How should I obtain happiness? Wisdom and happiness seem to contradict each other.
I wish to pursue happiness, but wisdom tells me that the path to obtaining happiness is not to pursue happiness. This would be the sinking of free will. I really find it hard to master the degree of this.
I wish to pursue happiness, but I seem unable to use my own wisdom. This is the contradiction books have given me.
相信自己的智慧，确信自己值得拥有幸福，这是自尊的本质。
To trust one’s mind and to know that one is worthy of happiness is the essence of self-esteem.
I feel myself sinking uncontrollably, bit by bit, into the abyss; I do not know what lies beneath.
The original text for wisdom is mind, which in the English context seems to carry the meaning of thought to a certain extent. My stomach hurts. The original text for essence is essence. Worthy of is a relatively passive voice; compared to “possessing,” the emotional coloring is lighter.
Difference between wisdom and thought? This probably really has a huge difference. Although the author has indeed tried their best to find suitable Chinese vocabulary, this truly requires reading the English original to understand the subtle deviations within.
I understand! Mind does not solely refer to wisdom! Because mind includes those irrational things! This is essentially deeply different from wisdom!
The more I read, the more I find nothing is worth complete trust. How many schools of thought oppose one another.
2025.7.8
At that time, she also gave me a graduation gift. It was also the only graduation gift I received from a classmate. It is a wooden, elegant music box in the shape of a gramophone, playing a segment of “Für Elise.” Simple notes drifted before the desk, the red wooden box and the golden stylus. I wonder what meaning this represents? “Für Elise” can be considered widely popular.
What happened during those few days of graduation? We went to collect the auxiliary books for filling out college applications; the wrinkled pages were full of dense numbers and obscure major names never read before. The future was equally obscure and unclear, at least to me at the time.
Looking through photos, the graduation ceremony took place on June 12th. I have the complete recording of Principal Ju Zheming’s speech from that time, as well as a video of a dance performance “Love Emergency” at the graduation ceremony.
Then, the photos only show the document of admission cutoff scores eight days later. I really want to cry. Why was nothing left behind? Those few days. I really want to cry.
I found the photo from June 25th, regarding that gramophone. I am going to meet her again in a few days. I have been so nervous these past few days. I have been thinking about how to polish my image. What should I say when we meet? What will she be like when we meet? Having not seen her for a year, how will she have changed?
Speaking of which, I am actually more satisfied with my current hairstyle with bangs; for one, there are really too many pimples on my forehead, covering them up indeed makes them invisible at a glance; for another, it indeed provides better proportions.
Very good, in the photos from June 27th, the video of this gramophone appeared. I really should buy a music box as a return gift. Should I give it at the beginning or the end?
The tune is much lighter than I thought. Is she also much more beautiful than I thought?
Speaking of which, she asked me to choose it myself back then. Perhaps it is less prone to error, but perhaps there is no sense of surprise?
I still somewhat regret my mom interfering with my college application filling, although saying “interfering” isn’t quite accurate. But I really didn’t wish to receive any interference from her. Because in this aspect, she would absolutely not be wiser than me.
Laughable, laughable; back then I even wanted to waste tens of points to apply for a major at Zhejiang Sci-Tech University just to ensure a major transfer. To the current me, applying to this school, apart from satisfying nostalgic needs and the superior living environment of Zhejiang, is really not good in other aspects. But not having to leave one’s native land is also very good.
At that time, a very close netizen named Rikka highly recommended that I apply to Hainan University; at least it is a 211, and she is also at Hainan University. My score would have been very safe for the Biotechnology major. However, I fear the distance on the map terrified me.
Here I attach “The Road Not Taken”:
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Speaking of which, I recently read MrNobody233’s blog and found he wrote a lot about himself.
And I am too lazy to read even a bit of it.
Therefore, I guess what I write will practically have no one wasting time to read either.
Then I might as well truly write as I please.
Where was I?
Recently, I have been bitterly bogged down in various interpersonal relationships. And Coach Hou still hasn’t arranged a specific training plan, so I don’t know how to arrange my itinerary.
Looking at her photo, infinite beauty wells up in my heart. Infinite memories surge within. I do not know her thoughts. This is truly something difficult to describe with language, difficult to understand with rationality. Looking at the face in her photo, I can vaguely correspond it with the contours in my memory. Although it is a portrait, she is so beautiful.
I sort of understand “this feeling I have never felt before.” This is truly a feeling no one else can bring.
This is truly God’s creation.
But what if she is no longer beautiful? What if, upon meeting, she is far from what I imagined? But I am truly not worried at all. Just from those few days of communication, I have determined the beauty of her heart. This is a kind of beauty that increases day by day with time.
I am really unsure of her thoughts about me. But perhaps it can still be deduced: I am relatively confident. Optimistically estimated, we can meet on 7.12. That is, four days from now. Oh God, this is really so fast. The busy past month made me completely forget these things, but after idling down, I suddenly realized that moment has drawn so near.
Looking through the chat history, she has been trying to enlighten me in various ways. I think I have already been enlightened. As for letting go: I obviously will not ask her to do anything anymore. When we meet, I might just purely express my mellow emotions for her; this feeling is truly not something I can discard or change, but I will not ask her to accept it. Nor will I rashly barge into her life to do anything for her.
Her existence is already enough.
I really don’t know what it will be like when we meet. I really don’t know if there is a chance to meet on 7.12. As long as Hou does not arrange training for us on 7.12, then I must rush back, even if I have to rush back on the same day, even if it is really only for a short few hours. Wouldn’t that be very good too?
I am not sure if I have undergone enough change.
But recently, I finally summoned the courage to seriously examine myself in the mirror. Acknowledgment and acceptance are the first steps to change. I also finally picked up the toothbrush and toothpaste I hadn’t used for over ten years. Pity I should find a time to get my teeth cleaned.
She should have returned to Changshan by now. Imagining her location on the map. As long as she exists in this world, this world suddenly becomes so beautiful.
She makes the whole world beautiful.
For her, I will make myself more beautiful; I will change. For her—how beautiful she is—making my heart tremble.
It’s quite good. Wouldn’t it be good if the filter shatters upon meeting? But reading between the lines, I don’t think the shattering of the filter will happen excessively—people who think they are insufficient are often not insufficient.
When meeting, I must not look at my phone. I must look properly into her eyes.
Better to commit emotions to text:
She said what I like is not her, but a more beautiful memory entity I constructed based on memory.
But isn’t emotion in the world always like this?
Alas.
Alas.
Alas.
Regret.
Regret.
Regret.
I still have to make myself busy. It is still caused by considering the current work not important enough to myself.