During the years from seventeen to twenty-four, the question He Dongli heard most often in her relationships was: “How did you meet Zong Chi?”
Thinking about it, she probably hadn’t been asked that question in five years.
She’d even started to forget how she used to answer back then: classmates, schoolmates.
Before they each went off to college, they’d been in the same class for two years.
After the division between arts and sciences, they became high school alumni.
Then, the questioner would always get more curious, “So even rich kids go to public schools, huh? I thought he’d be shipped off to an American high school long ago.”
Back in the days when rumors about Zong Chi and He Dongli’s romance were swirling, the story that everyone took as gospel was this: Zong Chi, to be closer to his girlfriend, defied his parents and stayed in the country to finish high school alone.
Occasionally, at these lively gatherings, He Dongli would soberly call everyone out: “No, he was just childish back then. So was I. We weren’t even friends, really. People say his family’s rich, but before we started high school, even for a six-yuan bowl of beef noodles, he never once thought to pay me back.”
Everyone would burst out laughing, and Zong Chi never felt embarrassed.
In front of his friends, he’d list every detail: “You still remember that, huh? And you say you didn’t have a crush on me.”
He Dongli wasn’t as shameless as he was.
Even if Zong Chi got drunk, she’d still call him out, “Who had a crush on you? You wish! Zong Chi, you were so annoying back then—never brought money when you went out, ate noodles with the girls’ money when you were hungry, and never paid them back. How could you be so thick-skinned?”
The one who’d had too much to drink would take her back to the hotel, the smell of alcohol and a mischievous smile mixing together.
He always had to be the one in control, or maybe, in those smooth-sailing, rebellious years, he couldn’t stand even a hint of adversity.
Back then, Zong Chi was young and impulsive, full of hot-blooded energy.
When things got heated, he couldn’t be bothered to explain himself.
Even when he could see that He Dongli was troubled by things he didn’t understand, he could still recklessly scoop her up and answer her questions: “Zong Chi, did you come back to see me just for this?”
“Of course.”
He Dongli stood at the doorway of the Liang family’s bathroom, and in the silence—long or short—the reunion after five years dragged on, feeling drawn out and off-key.
It was as if she and the man not far away had only turned the page yesterday.
When they broke up, it was during the Spring Festival holiday.
Zong Chi ignored family gatherings and banquets, flew back to the country first—then got reported to his father by a call from He Dongli’s mother.
He Dongli could never forget the fury on his father’s face when he found them that day, slapping Zong Chi right in front of everyone.
Cursing him as a disgrace!
That year, A City had a snowstorm not seen in years.
The main road of Sangtiandao, north to south, along with several branching side streets, was blocked off from the entire scenic area, all the way up and down the mountain.
After getting slapped by his own father, Zong Chi lifted his shirt hem and roughly wiped his glasses, then turned his head and spat something out.
He Dongli saw a patch of blood stark on the carpet.
Zong Jingzhou’s harsh voice ordered Zong Chi to escort He Dongli downstairs himself.
“If you say another word of ‘no,’ I’ll break your legs.”
When the villa doors swung open, the wind and snow poured into the warm room like cotton, flooding He Dongli’s senses as if she were standing in a tidal flat.
A dark, muddled blue, a world of white.
Zong Chi only walked her to the door, said nothing, and turned back inside immediately.
In the crunch of footsteps on snow, He Dongli’s limbs felt weak as she got into the car.
A wave of discomfort rose in her chest that she struggled to suppress.
She closed her eyes, and as the car started moving, everything outside blurred into fog on the glass, a line of beads…
From that moment, they parted—over five years ago.
As he’d said, He Dongli had an excellent memory since childhood.
She never forgot what she learned, and it was even harder to let go of people and events.
In all those years, whenever she was asked, “How did you meet Zong Chi?” she never mentioned that, at the very beginning, the two of them had gone to the Affiliated School as transfer students for the entrance selection.
Their seat numbers were randomly assigned, and Zong Chi sat in front of her.
When the written exam ended, as she passed her paper forward, she watched as the boy in front of her copied two of her multiple-choice answers.
He Dongli felt contempt.
Leaving the exam room, she saw that same boy get into a scuffle with a group who’d been waiting outside the school gate.
Outnumbered and outmatched, he was dragged into an alley by the temple next to the school, pinned down by a taller boy.
Even though He Dongli hated his cheating, survival instinct and empathy didn’t allow her to hesitate—she pulled out the battered second-hand phone her mom had given her and prepared to call the police.
But one of the boys keeping watch noticed her.
He Dongli turned to run, but after just a few steps, she was yanked by her backpack strap.
Her phone was snatched away, and she shouted.
In the chaos, she didn’t even see how the boy being pinned down managed to get up.
The boy who grabbed her smashed her phone.
As soon as it hit the ground, the boy who’d been pinned leaped over and kicked him hard.
A case of bullying outside school finally drew the attention of the Affiliated School’s security and the teachers in charge of the selection that Saturday.
The teacher who’d supervised them came forward and sternly reprimanded the boy who threw the last punch.
He Dongli heard the teacher call his name: “Zong Chi, what am I going to do with you? So hot-tempered! In your next life, you should be a fighting rooster. If your dad finds out, it’ll be another beating!”
That’s when He Dongli realized that some students, no matter their exam results, could always get into the schools they wanted.
Whether he copied her answers or not, the result was the same.
After leaving the School Security Office, the boy named Zong Chi called out to her and wanted to pay for her broken phone.
He Dongli said she didn’t know how much it would cost—she’d have to ask her mom.
Zong Chi’s hair was a mess, and he said her phone was worth at most two hundred yuan.
He Dongli didn’t argue, just calmly replied, “Okay, I’ll ask and let you know how much you owe me.”
Zong Chi was confused.
“When is ‘then’?”
He Dongli said, “When school officially starts, I’ll ask you for it.”
Zong Chi glanced back at the school’s north gate and emblem, then looked at this proud, upright girl heading for the bus stop.
“How do you know we’ll both get in?”
“I know about myself. You just worry about yourself.”
Zong Chi was at a loss, thinking she was talking about those two multiple-choice questions.
He asked, “You got the last two math questions right, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
Zong Chi was more confident than she was.
As the bus arrived, he said, “You look like someone who always gets them right.”
He Dongli shot a glare at this “bad student” and got on the bus without another word, leaving him behind.
That night, He Dongli got a call notifying her that she’d been accepted as a ninth-grade transfer student at the Affiliated School.
Her mother was overjoyed.
Dinner was ready, but she was so happy she decided they should go out to eat instead, “Pick your favorite!”
He Dongli shook her head.
“Let’s just eat at home. I don’t really have a favorite—and besides, my phone’s broken.”
Yu Xiaohan comforted her daughter, “It’s just a phone. You were helping a classmate, after all. What’s with these kids these days? How do you get into a fight just taking an exam?”
He Dongli explained, “It wasn’t a fight. It was a group bullying one person. Those guys looked older than him.”
Yu Xiaohan followed her daughter’s logic, “So how did it turn into a fight?”
He Dongli passed the exam and, just as her mother wished, got into Yizhong Affiliated High School.
She felt a sense of relief and joy.
She answered her mother’s question, a bit lazily, “The way you’re asking shows you’re normal—you wouldn’t bully someone weaker.”
Yu Xiaohan teased her for being sharp for her age.
As they prepared dinner, He Dongli specifically asked her mother how much she should ask for the phone.
Yu Xiaohan said to just forget it—it was old, anyway.
“He said it was worth two hundred at most.”
“Who?”
“The boy in front of me—the one who got bullied. I think his surname is Zong.”
“He got bullied, too. Just let it go.”
He Dongli complained, “But it was because of him that my phone got smashed.”
Her mother told her, “It wasn’t even worth two hundred. Even a hundred is too much.”
He Dongli chewed a bite of rice, swallowed, and decided, “Then he’ll just pay one hundred.”
When school officially started in September, He Dongli arrived early at her classroom, waiting for homeroom teacher Zhu Laoshi.
Students came and went, and inevitably, some curious glances were cast her way.
That day, she thought she’d be alone, but unexpectedly, a boy in the same brand-new uniform stopped at the door of Class (1)…
Each grade at Yizhong Affiliated High School had thirty classes, but four of them weren’t regular classes.
Two Tianwen Classes, two Jingdu Classes.
The former were for top students citywide and those who met certain criteria, the latter for outstanding students from within the school district.
All four were established by alumni who had become renowned entrepreneurs, donating scholarships so that no outstanding child would be held back by financial worries.
The alumni and Scholarship Donor behind this was Zong Jingzhou’s father.
He’d attended the Affiliated School in S City before the family moved to Nan Yang.
After years of upheaval, he never returned.
In the end, according to his wishes, his ashes were split—half buried where his children lived and worked, half returned to his hometown.
As Zong Jingzhou put it, if he hadn’t been truly desperate, he’d never have used his father’s name to pull favors.
Zong Chi had gotten into a fight at his old school.
The incident blew up, and none of the parents would back down, even hiring lawyers.
Because of this, Zong Jingzhou closed the door and nearly resorted to the harshest family discipline.
If not for Yu Weishi crying and pleading outside, he’d really have beaten the brat to death.
That was when he decided to transfer the boy.
In Zong Jingzhou’s view, grades and scores didn’t matter much—what his child needed was to learn healthy competition and problem-solving.
Since he wouldn’t behave at his old school, always stirring up trouble, he might as well see how the top students in the system learned and worked hard.
He never expected the kid to cause trouble even during the entrance test.
The driver waited at the south gate, but he was fighting at the north.
Afterward, he wandered home alone, taking a roundabout route.
After Zhu Laoshi called Zong Jingzhou’s secretary, Zong Jingzhou was so angry he almost fainted.
Back home, seeing the boy with a fresh bruise, Zong Jingzhou looked for something to hit him with, cursing, “You little brat, you’re my biggest punishment in this life!”
Those days, Yu Weishi was bedridden and sick.
Hearing the commotion, she rushed up, but before she and the maid could intervene, Zong Chi, quick as a leopard, dashed upstairs.
Separated by a railing, he finally vented: “Zong Jingzhou, you know nothing! Damn it, all you care about is your business and my mom—what am I to you? Your reputation, your Nasdaq bell-ringing, is more important than anything! You can’t lose to anyone, and even when you take someone down, you need to do it righteously. I won’t accept it! I’ll never accept you!”
“They started it with us in the junior high section—why can’t I fight back when they hit first? I did fight back! If they don’t respect rules and decency, then let fists speak!”
Yu Weishi was so angry she saw stars, clutching her chest, “Chi, you’re being outrageous! Do you want your father and those other parents to end up at the police station? Do you think having a record or being disciplined is something to be proud of? Yes, you didn’t start it, but you did rally your classmates for revenge—that’s not good. What do you expect your father to do, go against the parents’ committee and the school board for you?”
“Did Lawyer Zhou teach you nothing?”
Zong Chi hated that they didn’t understand him. In the end, he muttered coldly, “You’re not even as good as an outsider.”
That night, the school reported the exam results.
To be honest, Zong Jingzhou was a little surprised.
Principal Nian called personally, asked after Mrs. Zong’s health, then mentioned Zong Chi’s score—he’d just scraped by, but at least it gave him something to show for it.
Not long after, Zong Jingzhou hosted a banquet for Principal Nian and Zhu Laoshi.
He even had Zong Chi offer tea and wine.
The Zong couple’s intention was that, since Zhu Laoshi and Weishi were alumni, they’d entrust the brat to him.
Zhu Fengchun didn’t refuse.
After a couple rounds of drinks, he brought up the fight, clarifying in front of Principal Nian that it was the older kids who started it, and some students saw Zong Chi only fought back when forced.
Everything should be judged fairly.
Remembering past mistakes is a lesson for the future—let’s see how things go.
Hearing this, Zong Jingzhou laughed, “Zong Chi, shouldn’t you be thanking Zhu Laoshi?”
Zong Chi curled his lip, thinking, shouldn’t he be thanking the people who saw and spoke the truth?
At that dinner, Zong Chi first heard He Dongli’s name clearly, because she’d scored the highest among all the transfer students that year.
Zhu Laoshi had nothing but praise for her.
Zong Chi felt a little sour—sure enough, a good student’s words are worth ten thousand others.
He asked, “Which class is she in?”
Everyone at the table looked at him.
Zong Chi, already used to trouble, said, “I made her break her phone. She said she’d ask me for compensation when school starts.”
Zhu Laoshi was so pleased and proud because such a good student was assigned to his Tianwen (1) Class.
When Zong Jingzhou raised his glass, he joked with Zhu Laoshi, “You got a top student, but also picked up a troublemaker. Isn’t that risk hedged?”
Caught between the adults’ laughter and flattery, Zong Chi felt bored and wanted to escape…
He always remembered the first day at the Affiliated School, when he walked up to the Tianwen (1) Class door and saw He Dongli in her blue-and-white uniform, slender and tall, standing there.
A beam of sunlight shone through the green glass, lighting up her profile in a rectangle of light.
The glow on her face looked like a butterfly-shaped patch.
As he got closer, the butterfly flew away.
Zhu Laoshi walked over with a stack of lesson plans and greeted the two of them, “You two come in together in a moment.”
He Dongli wore her hair in a high ponytail, facing the front door.
That summer, Zong Chi had grown like crazy, and after a month and a half, he was now half a head taller than the girl he’d only met once before.
The two of them stood outside, alone.
He deliberately kept his distance, leaning on the balcony, face turned away.
After a while, he remembered something and was about to say something to her, but Zhu Laoshi finished roll call inside and said, “There are two new students in our class today. Everyone, welcome them…”
He Dongli went in first.
That day, their names were written side by side on the blackboard.
He Dongli’s name was easy to read.
Zong Chi’s “Chi”—many students didn’t recognize it.
Some thought it was “Xi,” as in “Osmanthus Xi.”
Zong Chi turned and wrote the pinyin on the board.
When he turned back to face the class, he saw He Dongli looking at the pinyin on the blackboard.
Their eyes met for a moment, then drifted apart—still strangers.