Later, I discovered a shortcut—a simple method that could be summed up in one sentence: just get straight to the point and say who the girl looks like. For example, if she looks like Maggie Cheung or Fan Bingbing, others can immediately picture what she looks like.

Now, let me be blunt: the woman in front of me, both in appearance and figure, closely resembles the one who cheered on Megan.

The more I looked at her, the more I felt this girl had a story, but I wasn’t sure if this feeling came from my own judgment or was just a product of my overactive imagination. The most ridiculous part was that the sense of déjà vu kept getting stronger—the more I looked at her, the more familiar she seemed.

With this feeling, I became even more uncertain inside.

My friend Luke once mocked me like this: “Come on, every time you see a pretty girl, you say she looks familiar!”

Because of this, I couldn’t tell if the woman in front of me was truly familiar or not.

That’s the root of my psychological knot.

These days, I lack enough judgment, and it seems I also lack enough confidence.

Whenever I find myself in this situation, I become very confused—so confused that I just want to find a warm chest to lean on. But when a warm chest is right in front of me, even with parted legs right there, I don’t have the guts to act on my desires.

I can already predict what will happen next. As expected, I’ll steal a few more glances at her while I can, then she’ll go her way and I’ll go mine. I’ll never know her depths, and she’ll never know my length. Until one day, I can no longer recall her face.

On some future day, I’ll brag to my friends: One day at the airport, I ran into a girl who looked like Sister Zhiling. She spread her legs, but I still couldn’t see what kind of underwear she was wearing, and then...

And then, well, there’s nothing after that.

Some things need to end here, and sometimes we need to wait for the next episode.

A story that ends here, with no next episode, inevitably leaves a bit of regret.

Actually, there could have been a next time, but because we missed the opportunity, there wasn’t.

When I was very young, I almost obsessively believed that there was always a “next time” in life, and I even created miracles.

After stepping into the halls of marriage, I stopped believing in the next “next time,” and life became more and more miserable.

At this point, I have to mention that psychologist again. I went through a whole course of treatment with him, but it didn’t help at all. When I was leaving, he finally said something human: “If you feel life is too dull, why not make some changes?”

On this day, in this month and year, I decided to make a change.

Before this, even I didn’t know what kind of change I would make.

When I was a teenager, I really disliked my father, so I told myself I would never do the things he did. If I didn’t want to grow up to be like him, then everything I did had to be different from him.

Now, the situation is similar. I just need to act differently from how I’ve been in recent years. And what have I been like in recent years? No doubt, I would have just brushed past the woman across from me.

So next, what I need to do is not miss her.

The moment I stood up, I realized that making a change was actually very simple.

In the past, whenever I ran into a pretty girl, my mind would reflexively flash images of my wife and kids. Then I’d shake my head and laugh at myself, secretly sighing that I was already a married man. But now, it’s different. I’m a happy bachelor—even if you ignore the “happy” part, I’m still a bachelor.

“I am as free as the wind, just like your tenderness can’t hold me back...”

Thoughts really do move a thousand times faster than actions. As I took my first step, a Xu Wei song popped into my head. This song gave me a huge boost—I truly felt as free as the wind.

The first step is always the hardest—this is an eternal truth. Everything in the world is difficult because of the first step. Once you take that first step, the rest is much easier than you imagine.

Even if you’re not wearing Li-Ning, you can still make a change happen.

I walked over and stood in front of her, patting her on the shoulder.

At that moment, I was a little impressed with myself, feeling like I had inspired countless losers.

She woke up and looked at me, a bit dazed.

Now it was time to take another first step—I was about to say my first words to her. I was still a bit nervous, but I forced myself to say, “You’re exposed.”

She froze for a few seconds, then quickly clamped her legs together.

A few seconds later, she seemed to recover, looking a bit embarrassed, and said two words to me: “Thank you.”

The moment she spoke, she gave me a pleasant surprise. First, the surprise: her voice was actually nothing like the one cheering for Megan; instead, it sounded more like Sora Aoi’s, and as it happens, I prefer the latter. As for the unexpected part—let me be honest, I had imagined a thousand things she might say to me, and I was even prepared for her to curse me out as a pervert, but I never expected her to actually thank me.

At that moment, my worldview was shaken to some extent.

Turns out, after looking under a woman’s skirt, she might still say thank you.