Return to Nanyu

In my freshman year of high school, I always loved to hang out at the table of top student Shen Zhiyan. He is the kind of person that the whole grade looks up at. He talks little, is cold and indifferent, and his pen tip falls quickly and steadily when he solves the problem. I didn't have any other thoughts, I just thought he was great, wanted to be friends with him, wanted to be able to be asked a question by him, and wanted to have someone who was as shining as my deskmate in the crowded youth. I would deliberately take a detour and pass by his seat, borrow an eraser, ask math questions that I didn't understand, and smile nervously when he looked up. I thought it was as close as possible. Until the National Day holiday, he suddenly asked me in the chat box: "Do you like me?" I was completely confused. I have never thought about that. I just want to play with him and be friends with him. I like him, but not the kind of like he said. My fingers were trembling as I typed: "I didn't." The second the message was sent, I didn't even realize that I had shattered a young man's entire pride. He replied very quickly, as cold as ice: "Just wait for me." Since then, he really kept me waiting for three years. He never said another word to me. What's even more cruel is that he started to be extremely gentle to my female deskmate in front of me. In math classes and self-study classes, he would take the initiative to come over and lean over to teach her questions. His voice was very low, and he was incredibly patient. His fingertips touched the draft paper, and he drew every stroke with a tenderness I had never experienced before. And I was sitting next to him, like a transparent person. I lowered my head and stared at my textbook, my face felt hot and my heart felt sad. At that time, I was worried about my appearance. I always felt that I was ordinary, not good-looking, and not eye-catching enough. Seeing him being gentle to others and only being indifferent to me, I thought to myself over and over again: He must find me annoying, that I don't know my own abilities, that I don't deserve to be treated well by him. He didn't abuse me, He was telling me: You see, I can be nice to others, but I just don't want to be nice to you. I didn't understand it at the time. I thought he hated me, hated me, and despised me. It wasn't until many years later that I understood—— It's not that he doesn't love, it's that he can't love her, so he can only use hurt to cover up his heartbeat. Every question he asked his classmates and every tender act he performed were all done for me to see. He has been targeting me for three years, but he was just betting: Bet on whether I will be sad, bet on whether I will look back, bet on whether I like him at all. It's a pity that one of us back then was slow and didn't understand, and the other was stubborn. A misunderstanding ruined an entire youth. He used the cruelest way to hide his softest love. And I used my truest friendship to hurt his truest heart. Concept: The most regrettable thing in youth is not not loving, but missing three years due to a misunderstanding.