Goodnight, Mr. Wen

Wen Zheng met the person he liked most at the best age of his life: someone from the school next door, with short hair. Seeing each other every day at the school gate, they gradually fell for each other. He didn't know their grade or even their name. On the day he finished his college entrance exams, Wen Zheng followed them for two blocks, but a bus cut short the first love that hadn't even had the chance to blossom. Years passed, and he was forced to marry the woman his family had picked out for him. She had no personality or distinguishing features, bland as a pothos plant the family had no room for. As expected, they divorced, and to him, it felt no different from removing a fixed piece of furniture from a house. Until the day they divorced, when the two of them happened to run into each other at the little bar they often visited. The woman across from Wen Zheng lowered her head and swirled her small Japanese sake cup. Her smile held a trace of regret and relief. "Back in high school, I had a crush on you." "You once followed me for two blocks along the road outside my home." Among all the stories I've heard, loved, lived, imagined, and dreamed of.