The Unreachable White

She was the moon in the sky; he was mud on the ground.

He was Jiang Yubai, adored by everyone, born into a prominent family, confident and carefree, with no shortage of girls vying for his attention.

She was Shen Zhiyao, quiet in the corner, ordinary as dust and the most inconspicuous girl in class.

After an unexpected encounter, he leaned down to look into her eyes and smiled carelessly. “Shen Zhiyao, you’re pretty interesting.”

The brief tenderness he bestowed on her became a dream she treasured with care.

He told her she was his “181st second,” the one extra second beyond his usual three-minute enthusiasm. She believed him.

When he held her tight after drinking and begged her in a hoarse voice not to leave, she believed him too.

Then, two months later, he flicked away his cigarette ash and said as casually as if discussing the weather, “I’m bored. Let’s part on good terms.”

Years later, at a class reunion, he gripped her wrist, the corners of his eyes reddening. “Who was that guy who always walked home with you back then?”

She slipped her hand free and smiled distantly. “You mean my cousin?”

Jiang Yubai, you were the only confession I never spoke aloud in my youth, and the unreachable moonlight of my life.