The Hundredth Unsent Love Letter

Hidden in Pei Xian’s youth was a secret named Jiang Wang.

He was the rebellious boy in the class next door. He would sneak lemon into her water with a wicked grin, and drive off everyone who bullied her in the alley.

One hundred love letters were Pei Xian’s silent crush throughout high school.

She thought that on graduation day, she would finally work up the courage to hand him the last letter.

But later, someone else was standing by Jiang Wang’s side.

Pei Xian burned the ninety-ninth letter, buried everything in her heart, and set off toward a future without him.

At twenty-seven, Pei Xian heard the news of Jiang Wang’s death at a class reunion.

The boy who had shone like the blazing sun had been resting in peace since the bitter winter three years earlier.

Then she received a keepsake from his mother: a rusty iron box.

Inside lay all ninety-nine of her love letters, neatly arranged.

On the back of every letter, in his familiar handwriting, were replies written over the course of ten years.

On the last page were the words he had written with trembling hands after being diagnosed with a terminal illness:

“Pei Xian, if time could turn back to that afternoon in our senior year...”

“I’d be the first to tell you how much I like you.”