MTLNOVEL Chapter 1: Busy, Confused, Blind
In a certain year, everyone plants a seed of human nature.
We watch it sprout together, then each of us busily focuses on its wild growth,
gradually forgetting to pay attention to each other,
only to realize with a start when we look back: How did you change?
“My name is Hao Huigui. What you see isn’t what I truly like about myself.”
Hao Huigui, 36, is a university lecturer who has taught Marxist philosophy for eight years. Before the age of 18, Hao Huigui’s name was Liu Dazhi. One day when he was 18, Liu Dazhi’s parents officially divorced. The television was broadcasting a commemorative program for the handover of Hong Kong at the time, and his mother, Hao Tiemei, directly changed Liu Dazhi’s name to Hao Huigui. [Huigui means “return” literally]
Most people, when mentioning Hao Huigui, will first praise Hao Tiemei’s excellent parenting.
Before his senior year of high school, Hao Huigui’s grades were abysmal. Somehow, in his senior year, he suddenly had an epiphany. Through a burst of intense studying and the extra points his mother secured using their family’s 20,000 yuan savings for a “targeted cultivation” program, Hao Huigui finally got into university. On the day he enrolled, Hao Tiemei told Hao Huigui that he must seize every opportunity to strive for excellence—to pursue postgraduate studies, stay at the university, and become a university lecturer. Unwilling to disappoint his mother any further, Hao Huigui followed the prescribed path step by step, and truly became a university lecturer. From that moment on, Hao Huigui’s status as a university lecturer became Hao Tiemei’s capital for social advancement, a model for their neighbors, and even Hao Huigui himself believed his life was complete.
Year after year, for three years, he diligently taught his classes. Other colleagues began to dedicate more time to research projects, writing papers, and pursuing promotions; for another four years, five years, six years, his colleagues continued to pursue more ambitious goals, while Hao Huigui continued teaching Marxist philosophy. As he grew older, the school, out of consideration, promoted him to lecturer, but he still had to teach eight classes a day, with no hope for the future. He tried to tell his superiors that he also wanted more time for research. His superior said, “Huigui, we really need teachers like you who are dedicated and reliable. How about this, we’ll hire another Marxist philosophy lecturer next year to give you some relief.”
Hao Huigui believed him, enduring the sixth year, and heading straight for the seventh. By the eighth year, the leadership had changed, and no one remembered to take responsibility for Hao Huigui’s future. He had considered resigning many times, but as soon as he tried to express his feelings, those around him would say, “A university lecturer! You don’t want such a good job? Are you crazy? What research? Stability is most important!” He had a few high school buddies, with whom he had skipped class, copied homework, and fought, knowing each other inside and out. Only they could understand the pain in Hao Huigui’s heart. His brother-in-law, Chen Xiaowu, started out selling bean sprouts and, through his own efforts, became a big boss at the Hunan Agricultural Trade Market. Hao Huigui said to Chen Xiaowu, “Xiaowu, I’m afraid I can’t continue this university lecturer job.” Before he could finish, Chen Xiaowu patted him on the shoulder and said, “Is the salary too low? I just got a batch of fish from Chagan Lake, and I made a net profit of 200,000 yuan. You’re educated, why don’t you help me manage this business?”
“It’s not that I mind the low pay, it’s that I see no future in my work.”
“It’s because the pay is low that you see no future.”
Hao Huigui felt he couldn’t talk to Chen Xiaowu anymore; all he talked about was money. When they were kids, they could talk about anything for a whole day, but now, when Hao Huigui expressed his true feelings, Chen Xiaowu couldn’t understand him.
Chen Tong was Hao Huigui’s high school’s academic overachiever and heartthrob. Before the college entrance examination, he got into a fight to help Hao Huigui and suffered a concussion, resulting in two months of rest and a poor performance in the exam. Now he is a civil servant, having just passed a government exam and becoming the youngest deputy director of the local Industrial and Commercial Bureau.
“Chen Tong, I want to resign. I don’t want to be a university lecturer anymore…”
“Huigui, it’s not that I’m saying this to be mean, but whether it’s the government or a university, besides having solid skills, networking is even more important. Do you think I became a deputy director just by passing the exam? Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t want to be a university lecturer because you’re not getting promoted and see no hope. Listen to me, think about what you need, tell me, and I’ll help you figure it out.”
Hao Huigui knew Chen Tong meant well, but the deeper he self-analyzed, the clearer it became—he didn’t actually love this job. It was all his mother’s arrangement, and even the fact that he had persevered for all these years was because people around him thought this job was glorious. But he was 36 years old, and to continue would be to consume his life for the sake of others’ wishes.
He confided in his cousin Dingdang, but before he could finish, someone came in. Dingdang immediately stood up and introduced him to everyone: “This is my brother, Professor Hao. Impressive, right?” Hao Huigui whispered to her, “I’m not a professor, just a lecturer.” Dingdang said nonchalantly, “Oh, come on, you teach knowledge at the university, that makes you a professor!”
Heh, no one cared what he was saying; they only cared about what they thought was right. He thought, maybe he should just have it out with his mother? But unexpectedly, his mother suddenly suffered a cerebral thrombosis. After being rescued, she kept holding his hand, saying, “Dazhi, my body is getting weaker, and I’m worried about you. Thankfully, you listened to your mother back then and became a university lecturer. Now, you should also consider your lifelong affairs, otherwise, I’ll think you have psychological problems.”
One problem after another, Hao Huigui’s life was like being trapped in a swamp, with every step bringing him closer to death. As he grew older, his inner pain grew stronger. Before, he had felt some unhappiness, but he always thought he could just endure it. Some say time can smooth out all sharp edges, but for Hao Huigui, time was like a magnifying glass, enlarging his inner discontent little by little until it became unavoidable.
Hao Huigui finally admitted one thing—his life had long been hijacked, hijacked by his mother, hijacked by those around him. They thought he should live this way, they thought his job was good, so he could only live this way, with no room for negotiation.
He couldn’t say “no” to his family, he couldn’t tell his friends that his job was terrible, and he was used to being ignored by his superiors. Unknowingly, he had become a floating corpse in the vast sea of humanity. He knew that if he continued like this, and completely gave up resistance, he would soon transform from a living corpse into a “corpse of life.”
With no one to talk to, Hao Huigui went online to write down his feelings.
“I’m 36 years old and a university lecturer. The only things that can excite me now are being able to refuse someone, to argue with someone, to muster the courage to fight, to do things I’ve never dared to do before. It’s not that these things are attractive, but I really want to tell myself that I’m still alive.”
Hao Huigui wanted to find like-minded people, but he waited for a long time, until he received a message: “36 years old? A university lecturer? Wanting to argue and fight? Can you not be so childish? At 36, shouldn’t you be thinking about how to live your life peacefully?”
Hao Huigui was furious. It was because of too many people like this that he had ended up where he was today. He decided to rebel. Since he couldn’t resign, he would start with the smallest things. The next day was his cousin Dingdang’s daughter, Yaya’s, 100-day celebration, and many old friends he hadn’t seen in a long time would be attending. Hao Huigui wanted to make himself different.
“I want to be different, not to prove that I’m good,
but to prove that I’m still alive.”
Hao Huigui lay in bed, his phone vibrating. Dingdang had posted a screenshot of her conversation with Weixiao last night in the group chat.
Weixiao: “Hongbao and I are on our way!”
Dingdang: “We haven’t seen each other since I got married. I miss you!”
Weixiao: “I miss you guys too. Have you gained weight since you had Yaya?”
Dingdang: “I gained dozens of pounds, but I’ve lost it now. Teach me how to become more elegant.”
Weixiao: “Okay, I have to turn off my phone. See you in fifteen hours.”
After posting the screenshot, Dingdang added another message: “We’re officially changing the name of this group to ‘Hao Huigui’s Matchmaking Group,’ hoping that Professor Hao will seize the opportunity and win Weixiao over.”
Hao Huigui: “Dingdang, that’s enough.”
Chen Tong: “Just add Weixiao to the group, let everyone talk to her, maybe it’ll work.”
Chen Xiaowu: “Add, add, add. Hao Huigui, if you’re still chicken, I’ll introduce Weixiao to my friends. They’re all multimillionaires, they’ll definitely win Weixiao over.”
Hao Huigui hated Chen Xiaowu’s attitude; three sentences and he’d be talking about money again.
“Honey, do you think Weixiao is as materialistic as I am? She has high standards, it to be atleast a university professor.”
“I’ve told you I’m not a professor!”
“That’s why she’s not interested in you.”
The group chat erupted into chaos.
Hao Huigui’s life wasn’t entirely dark; deep within his heart, there was a faint glimmer of light, through which he could vaguely see Weixiao. Weixiao was Hao Huigui’s first love, or more accurately, his first unrequited love. When he was five years old, Weixiao, who had just finished learning taekwondo and had a shaved head, rescued Hao Huigui from a group of children who were attacking him. After that, their families became acquainted, and they attended the same elementary school, middle school, and high school. From then on, Weixiao had always been deeply hidden in Hao Huigui’s heart.
Weixiao was also one of the five-person group in high school. Her parents divorced when she was young, her mother went to America, and she grew up with her father. In her senior year of high school, Weixiao’s father went bankrupt and passed away. Before his bankruptcy, he arranged for Weixiao to study abroad. Hao Huigui watched the whole process, keeping his words to himself, because he wanted to be another man in Weixiao’s life, but he never found the right time. And all these years, he hadn’t heard of Weixiao dating anyone. Hao Huigui asked Dingdang, and Dingdang shook her head: “She probably hasn’t prepared herself for a relationship.” Did she not have anyone she liked, or was there no one worthy of her liking? But this didn’t seem to be an obstacle for Hao Huigui. Hao Huigui made a decision in his heart: who says that confessing means you have to be together? Daring to confess is an accounting to himself. Confession is not for success, but to leave no regrets in his life.
The number of people in the WeChat group changed from 4 to 5; Dingdang had already added Weixiao to the group. Hao Huigui was so scared that he immediately changed the group name to “Celebrating Yaya’s 100-Day Celebration.”
“Aren’t you going to?” Dingdang sent a private message.
“I just don’t want to be too ostentatious!”
“Still denying it? We’re doing this openly and above board! You’re doing it secretly and stealthily.” [暗度陈仓 (andu chencang) – literally “secretly crossing Chencang,” a historical idiom referring to a clandestine military maneuver; here, it implies a sneaky or underhanded approach.]
“I just don’t want to disappoint her, and I don’t want to disappoint myself.”
“Bro, have you been reading too many bedtime stories on Weibo?” [Weibo is a popular Chinese microblogging site.]
“I really want to go back to the past,
Maybe it’s all because the present isn’t good enough.”
One hundred tables were set up for the 100-day banquet.
Chen Xiaowu thought the abundance of flowers was auspicious. [百花齐放 (baihua qifang) – literally “a hundred flowers blooming,” an idiom signifying prosperity and diversity.]
Chen Xiaowu and Dingdang held Yaya at the entrance to greet guests. As soon as someone offered a red envelope, Chen Xiaowu would loudly declare, “Giving a red envelope means you look down on me. I said before we started that we’re not accepting any red envelopes today. I, Chen Xiaowu, don’t need that! Your presence is the greatest honor you can give me!”
Hao Huigui walked up to Dingdang, handed her a red envelope, and said to Chen Xiaowu before he could speak, “I’m here to see Dingdang and Yaya. Don’t pull that on me.”
Chen Xiaowu chuckled, patted Hao Huigui on the shoulder, and offered him a cigarette.
Hao Huigui waved his hand; Chen Xiaowu knew he didn’t smoke.
“Thanks, bro, don’t mind Xiaowu. Come, Yaya, look at your uncle. Your uncle is a university professor. When you grow up, you should be as learned as your uncle.” Dingdang handed Yaya to Hao Huigui.
Hao Huigui frowned.
“Oh, Director Chen is here.” Whenever someone with a government position arrived, Chen Xiaowu’s voice would increase by an octave, as if afraid others wouldn’t notice. Hao Huigui turned to see Chen Tong, wearing new gold-rimmed glasses and a well-fitting suit. The shadow of the former school heartthrob was still visible; among the civil servants in their hometown, he was considered exceptionally refined. Only now, Chen Tong also carried a briefcase under his arm.
Chen Xiaowu greeted Chen Tong loudly. Chen Tong’s brow furrowed quickly, and he hurriedly said to Chen Xiaowu, “Keep your voice down, it’s not a good look.”
Chen Xiaowu acted as if nothing was wrong, saying, “The youngest Deputy Director Chen is my high school classmate, of course I’m happy.”
“You’re here.” Hao Huigui walked over, putting an arm around Chen Tong, just like in high school. “I heard you’ve been officially appointed Deputy Director. Congratulations!”
Seeing Hao Huigui, Chen Tong, shaking off his initial caution, said somewhat embarrassedly, “Hey, there are almost ten Deputy Directors, and I’m the last one. I don’t have much real power; I just got the top score on the exam, so they had to appoint me. By the way, how are you thinking about what I said last time, about getting you to network with your department head?”
“We’ll talk about it later.” Hao Huigui didn’t want to discuss it with him.
“Come, let’s take a group photo.” Dingdang called everyone over.
After posing, before the photographer could press the shutter, Chen Xiaowu suddenly went out again, loudly announcing, “Director Ma, you’ve arrived! Oh my, you’re giving me, Chen Xiaowu, so much face, thank you Director Ma!”
Dingdang, seeing this, stopped the photo shoot, smiling radiantly, and went to greet him: “Yaya, look who’s here, Uncle Ma is here to see you, are you happy?” Dingdang rocked Yaya back and forth, waking her. As soon as Yaya opened her eyes and saw so many strangers, she burst into tears with a “wa.” Chen Tong had somehow squeezed over and stood beside Director Ma, head slightly bowed. Yaya’s crying created a brief awkward silence.
A group of people surrounded Director Ma. Hao Huigui stood alone in front of the photographer, neither standing nor sitting comfortably. Everyone was putting on quite a show; just looking at their facial expressions, one could guess what they were saying.
When the banquet finally began, Hao Huigui quickly sat down in the private room Dingdang had prepared for their close friends.
Hao Huigui sat alone in the private room, thought for a moment, and opened a bottle of baijiu. [Baijiu – a strong Chinese liquor.]
After two cups, Hao Huigui saw Chen Tong and Director Ma flash past the private room. Their eyes met, and he thought Chen Tong would come in to say hello, but instead, Chen Tong walked straight past.
Seeing Hao Huigui drinking alone, Dingdang quickly came in and sat beside him, pouring him a cup, ready to chat. Chen Xiaowu, reeking of alcohol, came in with the nanny: “Yaya keeps crying, can you control her? You leave everything to the nanny, how can you be a mother?”
Dingdang’s face flushed, and she hurriedly got up to check on Yaya.
Hao Huigui scoffed at himself and also got up to get some air at the entrance to the private room.
He finally understood why some people drink alone—it’s not because they like alcohol, but because they like the emptiness of solitude. In the far right corner of the hall, Hao Huigui saw several classmates from high school who hadn’t gone to university. In high school, they were the coolest group, thinking that going to university was meaningless, a waste of time, better to enter society early. They started earning money early, making Hao Huigui envious for a while. Now, it seemed they were also worn down by society. Hao Huigui thought of himself; he was just pretending to be presentable.
“Professor, come and see, I’m doing alright without going to university.” Chen Xiaowu patted Hao Huigui on the shoulder, drunk.
Hao Huigui felt disgusted and pushed Chen Xiaowu’s hand away, sitting back down.
“Come, I’ll toast you, Professor.” Chen Xiaowu finished his cup, chuckling, his face flushed. He sat opposite Hao Huigui, legs crossed, opened a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes, lit one, and leisurely took a puff. [Zhonghua cigarettes – a well-known brand of Chinese cigarettes.]
Hao Huigui also finished his drink. Although his face showed no expression, a wave of nauseating strangeness surged through him. Usually, he would tell himself to endure it, but today, all his dissatisfaction, fueled by alcohol, welled up.
“Chen Xiaowu, do you think you’re particularly successful now?” Hao Huigui said.
“Huh?”
“You have a little bit of money, you know a few low-level officials, you have a few cronies, and you think you’ve reached the peak of your life.”
“What do you mean?” Chen Xiaowu’s face darkened.
“I mean, Chen Xiaowu, you’ve changed!” Hao Huigui had never spoken to Chen Xiaowu like this before. He felt good saying it; he should have done it sooner.
“Cough, that’s just how I am.” Chen Xiaowu took a deep drag of his cigarette, tilting his head back and exhaling into the air.
“You weren’t like this before.”
“I was poor before.”
“The way you fawned over Director Ma just now, like that dog next door at Old Wang’s house, you were better off poor.” Hao Huigui snorted coldly.
Chen Xiaowu wasn’t angered, but tapped Hao Huigui with his cigarette-holding finger: “Don’t think you can talk however you want just because we’re brothers.”
“I’m talking nonsense? Look at you, then look at Chen Tong, both of you following behind others, nodding your heads like you’re pounding garlic, desperately trying to get ahead!” Hao Huigui continued to sneer.
Chen Xiaowu slowly extinguished his cigarette on the table, raising his voice slightly: “Hao Huigui, Liu Dazhi, a lousy lecturer actually thinks he’s a professor? Is what you teach useful? Yeah, if it were useful, you wouldn’t only be earning four or five thousand a month.”
“That’s not the point, I’m talking about you guys.”
“Us? What right do you have to talk about us? I’ll give you 20,000, you lecture to the waitresses here for an hour, will you do it? That’s four months’ salary. I just don’t understand, you lousy teacher, where does your sense of superiority come from? You think we’re fawning and spineless, but look at yourself, have you changed in all these years? Have you taught any outstanding students, or made any outstanding inventions? You look down on this, you dislike that! Don’t taint the name of real university professors!” Having said that, Chen Xiaowu turned to leave.
“You get back here!” Hao Huigui had intended to provoke Chen Xiaowu, but he didn’t expect Chen Xiaowu, who used to follow him around, to actually start insulting him.
Chen Xiaowu ignored Hao Huigui and walked straight out.
“You goddamn get back here!” Hao Huigui rushed forward, grabbing Chen Xiaowu’s suit collar and pulling him back into the private room, locking the door.
Chen Xiaowu adjusted his suit, smiling: “This is expensive, it would take you three months’ salary to buy.”
“Is all you see money?”
“Hao Huigui, are you crazy?”
Hao Huigui, red-faced, said: “Chen Xiaowu, let me tell you, ever since you became a nouveau riche, you’ve become increasingly unbearable. Yes, you have money, but you’re no longer human!”
“Who gets to judge me isn’t your business, and don’t look at who you are now! Even if I’m not human, I’m still living better than you!”
As soon as he finished speaking, Hao Huigui threw a punch, landing heavily on Chen Xiaowu’s face.
“I considered you a brother!”
Chen Xiaowu didn’t back down, returning a punch that landed on Hao Huigui’s right cheek.
“Don’t pull that crap! If I hadn’t gotten rich, would you still consider me a brother?”
“I’m going to beat some sense into you, you bastard!” Hao Huigui threw another punch.
Chen Xiaowu slapped Hao Huigui, the sound echoing through the private room: “Fine, if I’m scared of you today, I’ll change my name!”
The two men grappled, food and drink flying everywhere. The long-simmering resentment finally found an outlet, exploding in a flurry of fists and feet.
Bang bang bang! Bang bang bang! Dingdang frantically knocked on the door outside.
“Bro, open the door!”
“Don’t knock! I’m going to beat him to death today!” Hao Huigui launched another kick.
“Xiaowu! Open the door! Stop fighting! Stop it!”
“Knock on the door again! And I’ll divorce you!” Chen Xiaowu yelled at the door.
Silence fell outside.
The two men wrestled again. High school friendship, shared hardship, unwavering loyalty, lifelong bonds, best brothers—all were obliterated in the fight.
Hao Huigui cried as he fought.
“Don’t cry like a wimp!” Chen Xiaowu landed another kick.
“Damn it, it’s not because it hurts!” Hao Huigui threw a dish.
With a loud “bang,” the door was kicked open, the lock flying off, and someone walked in.
“How much longer are you two going to fight? We’ve brought chairs to watch.”
The air instantly stilled. The two men froze mid-fight, as if paused.
Weixiao looked at them calmly. Short hair, tight jeans, white sneakers, her smile was still so bright. Hao Huigui thought no one in the world smiled more naturally than Weixiao.
Chen Xiaowu immediately released Hao Huigui’s ear, rubbing his hands, chuckling: “We were just playing, Weixiao, you’re here, have a seat, have a seat, must have been a tiring journey. Waiter, bring a new set of tableware!” Hao Huigui lowered his head; he couldn’t meet Weixiao’s gaze. After all these years, he still couldn’t overcome this habit.
“Honey, honey, does it hurt?” Dingdang rushed in, holding bandages, her eyes seemingly only on Chen Xiaowu.
“Look at you, all bruised up, didn’t you train too?” Weixiao looked at Hao Huigui.
“The private room is too small, not enough room to move.” Hao Huigui huffed, his eyes darting to the side.
“If you can’t win, why fight?”
“I just felt like it, I really wanted to, I could have beaten him worse, you came too quickly.”
“Hao Huigui, you didn’t even hurt me!” Chen Xiaowu, while applying bandages, remained defiant.
“You two are quite amusing. Chen Xiaowu, you’re a father now, and Hao Huigui, you’re still a university lecturer, aren’t you afraid of being laughed at? Dingdang, put a bandage on this idiot too.”
Hao Huigui secretly glanced at Weixiao; her smile still revealed a hint of her small canine teeth.
Weixiao’s arrival restored order to the chaos. Chen Xiaowu and Hao Huigui sat on either side of Weixiao, Dingdang next to Chen Xiaowu, and Chen Tong returned to the private room with his briefcase. Although there were still five people in the private room, it seemed they were no longer the same group.
“If others think you’ve changed,
It’s probably because you think differently from them.”
The 100-day banquet ended in the afternoon.
Hao Huigui and Weixiao walked side-by-side down the small path, a familiar route from their school days. Autumn had arrived in Hunan, the air crisp and clear, every word distinctly audible. Hao Huigui breathed carefully, afraid Weixiao would hear his racing heart.
“You’re not yourself today,” Weixiao said, smiling as she playfully poked his bandaged face. “You seem… quite aggressive.”
Hao Huigui recoiled. “Ow, ow, ow!” His eyes met hers, and he quickly looked away. “I’ve been bottling things up for over a decade. I just wanted to argue with someone, fight someone.”
“Bottling what up? Everyone says you’re doing great.” Hao Huigui sighed, unsure whether to confide in Weixiao.
“Something on your mind?” she asked.
“Yeah… I really dislike being a university lecturer, but everyone around me thinks it’s great. I don’t even know who I’m living my life for.”
“Why would you think that? Of course, it’s for yourself. Just like you said about Chen Xiaowu and the others changing.”
“You came late. You didn’t see how obsequious they were today.”
“If they’re truly obsequious but happy, then that’s fine too. Many people’s obsequiousness isn’t genuine.”
“Who would be happy with that kind of fawning?”
“Think about it, Xiaowu’s a businessman. He usually scrambles to curry favor with officials. Today, the director came personally—that’s a huge deal for him.”
“He works hard at his business; why should he care about that? He didn’t get where he is today because of that.”
“Maybe precisely because Xiaowu is an honest businessman, in this complicated environment, if the director didn’t genuinely respect him, he wouldn’t have come. Xiaowu’s right; the director respects him, and Dingdang is happy because of that.”
“Even so, does it require all that posturing? The director wouldn’t like that kind of person, would he? If I were the director, I definitely wouldn’t like that kind of person.”
Weixiao rolled her eyes. “Stop with the ‘ifs.’ With your personality, you wouldn’t even make department head.”
Hao Huigui stubbornly retorted, “Who wants to be a department head? I don’t like that kind of life.”
Weixiao stopped, looking at him with a hint of helplessness. “You… Chen Xiaowu’s life is his choice. The most important thing is that he likes it, not whether others like it or not.”
Weixiao’s two sentences left Hao Huigui speechless.
“But you know, that fight you had today was good. It shows you’re not numb yet, just a little… clumsy.” Weixiao smiled again. Hao Huigui loved seeing her smile; it made everything seem insignificant.
“When I told others I just wanted to fight someone, they laughed at me for being childish,” Hao Huigui said, feeling a warmth spread through him. Only Weixiao understood him.
“You are childish, but there’s nothing wrong with that.” Weixiao gazed at a distant streetlight, her face sculpted by the shadows. Hao Huigui’s heart pounded, the rhythm threatening to overwhelm him.
“So… how was life abroad these years?” he asked.
He actually wanted to ask: Are you dating anyone? Do you have a partner? Are you happy? What are your plans? Will you return to China? But all those questions awkwardly coalesced into a simple, “How was life?”
“Not bad. How about you?”
“I… I’m okay too,” Hao Huigui replied awkwardly.
“You’ve come back less and less often these years.”
“Yeah, I don’t have many relatives left, only you guys. I probably won’t have many opportunities to come back in the future.”
“Leaving tomorrow?”
“Aren’t you too?”
Their conversation was stilted, their hearts distant despite their proximity. Hao Huigui knew that if he missed this opportunity, he might never have another. They walked until they reached Weixiao’s house—a secluded courtyard on a street corner.
The road, once seemingly long, was covered in a moment.
“You got the house back?”
“Yeah, finally got the house back.”
“Is Aunt Zhang, the housekeeper, still living there?”
“Aunt Zhang raised me. After I got the house back, I let her stay. She has feelings for this house too.”
“That’s good. I won’t go in and say hello.”
“Okay.”
“You go in then.”
“Alright, I’ll go in.”
“Did… did you see your mother?” In a rush of emotion, Hao Huigui blurted out the question, immediately regretting it. Weixiao’s mother was a topic no one dared to mention. Weixiao herself had never brought it up. Hao Huigui only knew a little from Hao Tiemei. When Weixiao was young, her mother divorced her father to pursue her career and went to America.
“I did,” Weixiao said calmly. “She’s fine. She has a new family, new children.”
“Then… what about you?”
“Me? My mother said marriage and love are two different things. She and my father had love; her remarriage was just to build a family. I probably can’t do that. Those two things have to be one.”
Was that a hint? Hao Huigui remained silent.
“You’re leaving tomorrow. Get some rest.”
“Yeah. I have classes. Why are you leaving tomorrow too?”
“I have a lot of things arranged.”
“Knowing this would happen, you might as well not have come back.”
“Haha, are you talking about yourself?”
Hao Huigui had so much he wanted to say, but didn’t know where to begin. He feared awkward silences, miscommunication, making her feel they couldn’t connect. But if this continued, this meeting would end without resolution. Weixiao had said she might not return again. If he missed this chance, there would be no future. He mentally steeled himself: *Hao Huigui, you must confess today. No matter the outcome, you must confess. You must have the courage to become someone else—someone who dares to speak their mind, no longer bound by anyone!*
“Weixiao!” Hao Huigui called out firmly as she turned to open the door.
“Huh?” Weixiao turned, smoothing her short hair, looking at him.
“Um…” Hao Huigui froze. He noticed a ring on her right ring finger.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Uh… have a safe trip tomorrow,” he mumbled, swallowing his confession.
“You too,” Weixiao smiled.
Hao Huigui smiled awkwardly in return.
“Then I’ll go in.” After a two-second pause, Weixiao said.
“Go in.”
“Be careful on the road tomorrow.”
They both said the same thing simultaneously, then exchanged smiles.
Hao Huigui felt his heart emptied, yet his body weighed down. Back home, the living room was dim; his mother was in her wheelchair, listening to the television playing “The Love of the Boatmen.” [纤夫的爱 (Xianfu de ai) – a popular Chinese song. https://youtu.be/Md1k3-XeB88 ] Hao Huigui switched on the lights. “Mom, let’s keep the living room lights on from now on.”
“It’s daytime; leaving them on wastes electricity.”
“Mom, I’ll rest for a bit. I’m tired.”
In his room, Hao Huigui’s thoughts swirled. Remembering his hopeful arrival and disappointing departure, he felt angry. He opened his phone and sent a message to the WeChat group: “I deeply regret coming back this time! I believe Weixiao regrets it too! I don’t know when it started, but you’ve all become the people we used to hate the most!” Feeling it was inappropriate, he added: “Of course, I’ve also become someone I don’t want to be!” He continued: “Chen Tong, back then you were full of ambition, saying you’d go to the best university and do what you loved. Now you’re a deputy director carrying bags for the director!”
“Chen Xiaowu! You have money, but in my heart, you’re not better than selling bean sprouts your whole life! That was the real Chen Xiaowu!”
“Dingdang, I know you’re very satisfied with your life now, nothing to say!”
“Weixiao finally came back once! Only to watch us put on this farce! Did we do right by Weixiao?”
“I remember the wishes we made when we were about to graduate from high school. We all hoped we wouldn’t change, that we’d still be the same after many years! But now? We’ve become so disgusted with each other! How ironic!” Hao Huigui wasn’t finished, typing message after message. Finally, he added: “Chen Xiaowu, you beat me up pretty badly, it hurts! But I’m not angry, I just regret how we became like this.” He poured all his anger into the messages, hoping the waves he created would wake everyone up.
After sending the messages, he left the group, closing his eyes, his emotions unyielding.
He felt both angry and exhilarated.
He, who had always been submissive, had done many outrageous things tonight: scolding Chen Xiaowu, fighting him, speaking his mind in the group, leaving the group… Hao Huigui felt that only today had he truly lived a little. He felt a tinge of regret; if he had realized this earlier, he might not be in this situation today.
“Huigui, are you asleep?” his mother knocked on the door.
Hao Huigui didn’t answer. His mother continued outside: “I sent you profiles of a few girls. You came back in such a hurry this time; can you stay until the day after tomorrow? The matchmaker keeps urging you to meet them. You’re this age and still not married; people say things about you. Listen to your mother, stay one more day, okay?”
The newly emboldened Hao Huigui felt like he’d been weighted down and thrown into the sea by his mother. He didn’t respond; after a while, his mother went into her bedroom. He quickly got up, quietly opening the door, intending to get some fresh air.
“Aren’t you resting? Where are you going now?” his mother’s voice came.
“I… I’m going out to find you a daughter-in-law!”
“Some people must leave first,
Some people will wait in place.”
Hao Huigui stood on the street, unsure where to go. He remembered how protagonists in movies and TV dramas would hail a taxi and drive around the city, looking incredibly cool. He, who had always been frugal, had never experienced that kind of life. He hailed a taxi.
“Where to?”
“Anywhere. Just drive around.”
Hao Huigui felt for the first time that change didn’t require a drastic transformation. If you dare to do something you wouldn’t normally do, you should start changing. He never ate Houttuynia cordata [鱼腥草 (yuxingcao)], but he decided to eat it tomorrow. He never liked wearing leather shoes, but he would wear them tomorrow. He had saved some money to buy a house, following his mother’s advice, but he didn’t want a house; he wanted a car. He made a decision: he would withdraw money to buy a car tomorrow!
The taxi meandered through the city, and Hao Huigui’s heart gradually revived. The city had changed so much, just like people. Leaning against the backseat, watching the city, his heart filled with hope. He suddenly noticed a notebook in the backseat—probably left by the previous passenger. He picked it up and found it was a diary.
The grey cover had a few words printed on it: A Dialogue with Time.
Hao Huigui recognized this type of diary. You could write anything on it, specifying the date. One year, three years, five years—the diary had corresponding blank spaces for the writer to record their changed perspectives on the same things over time. It was less a diary and more a chance to have a conversation with one’s past self. The daily entries weren’t the key; seeing one’s transformation over the years was the point.
He curiously opened the first page, the pre-use Q&A section.
The first question: During your most confused times, who was by your side?
Probably now, I’m about to take the college entrance exam. Some friends aren’t taking it, some are going abroad, but thankfully, we’re still together, spending every day together.
It was a high school student’s diary.
The second question: Where are you now? What kind of life do you yearn for in 10 years? Who do you want to become?
I live in a small city. I hope in 10 years I’ll have a job I love, that I can live each day with passion, that even if I face difficulties, I can find ways to solve them, that I won’t be afraid of solving problems. I don’t want to become anyone; I want to become the person I want to be.
“I want to become the person I want to be.” This answer made Hao Huigui laugh. Young people always say naive things. He remembered he also hoped to find a job he loved, but now? He had found a job everyone else loved.
The third question: What do you want to say to your best friends now?
I want to tell them that no matter how much time passes, I hope we don’t change. That we can all become the people we want to be, that we don’t become the people we hate.
Hao Huigui froze. Wasn’t that what he had just said?
He flipped through the diary, hoping to find more information about the writer, but besides the three question-and-answer sections, it was completely blank. Hao Huigui closed the diary with a sigh of regret. Then, he noticed a name and phone number written on the back cover.
He was truly stunned.
The diary owner’s name was: Dazhi.
The contact information was: 156 0027 1308.
A small line of text was written beside it: If found, please contact me.
A chill ran down Hao Huigui’s spine. What was going on? Who was Dazhi? Considering how similar the answers were to his own responses from years ago, a ludicrous thought crossed his mind—could this have been written by his teenage self, all those years ago? He glanced at the driver, who was completely focused on the road. Hao Huigui looked at the phone number, thought for a moment, and decided to find the owner, so he dialed.
After a few seconds, there was no response. It wasn’t a busy signal, an unavailable number, or a disconnected number; no one answered. Just as Hao Huigui was about to hang up, a beep… beep… the phone connected. This strange echo seemed to traverse oceans and skies, flying directly towards the distant Milky Way…
“Hello? Is anyone there?” Hao Huigui held his breath and whispered.
There was no one speaking on the other end, only the sound of howling wind.
“Hello, is this Dazhi? Your diary was left in the taxi.” Again, only the wind, as if the phone had been lost in a desert. At this point, Hao Huigui was certain this was a childish prank, and simultaneously certain that his current actions were childish as well.
Just as Hao Huigui was about to hang up again, a voice suddenly came through the receiver.
“Are you Hao Huigui?” The voice sounded like it was generated by a computer, devoid of any emotion.
Hao Huigui wanted to respond, but he felt it would be silly to talk to a computer.
“Are you Hao Huigui?” the voice asked again, this time with an insistent tone.
“I… yes, you… are?” Hao Huigui increasingly felt this was his friends playing a prank. This kind of prank was very much in Chen Xiaowu’s style. But how did they know he would be in this taxi?
The other party immediately asked: “Are you satisfied with your current life?”
Hao Huigui suddenly couldn’t help but laugh. The more serious the other party was, the more ridiculous it seemed. Despite the amusement, he wanted to see how this prank would unfold.
“No, I’m not satisfied with anything.”
“If you had a chance to change your life, when would you go back to?”
Although he didn’t believe what was being said on the phone, this question stirred something in Hao Huigui’s heart. Today, he had experienced the meaning of change. If life could truly be changed—Hao Huigui’s mind flashed through images of each year, tracing back to 1998, when he was 17.
It was that year that Weixiao went abroad, and he hadn’t had the chance to confess his feelings.
It was that year that Chen Tong switched to the liberal arts class, becoming his friend.
It was also that year that Chen Xiaowu and Dingdang got together. His parents agreed to a divorce. To avoid disappointing his mother, he chose the first step in his life.
If there was truly a chance to change his life, it would be at the age of 17—in 1998. He would definitely not let himself be controlled by anything again, nor would he become a weak, submissive person who lived according to others’ expectations. This time, he would fight for his own life, never compromising!
“Heh, then 17 years old.”
Hao Huigui’s answer was laced with both disdain and defiance, but it was also his unspoken heart’s desire. If he had the chance to talk to his younger self, he would tell his 17-year-old self to seize those opportunities missed due to lack of courage, to overcome those missed because of pride, and to ensure his life wouldn’t take a wrong turn.
“Okay, wait a moment.” The other party replied, then fell silent.
The taxi entered a city tunnel, and the mobile phone signal began to weaken, bar by bar.
“Hello? Hello?” The call was disconnected due to the loss of signal.
Exiting the tunnel, he tried calling the number again, but it was unreachable. It was probably just a prank after all. Hao Huigui saw an arcade on the side of the road; he hadn’t been to one in over a decade. Back then, he was one of the top gamers in the school. Thinking about it, he suddenly felt the urge to play, quickly telling the driver, “Pull over here.”