To be honest, it’s a bit embarrassing—around this past Spring Festival, I discovered a whole new world: all the younger folks in my family were using touchscreen phones, and I was amazed. The little brats, in turn, looked at me with utter disdain. Their general attitude was: Uncle, do you have to be this out of touch?

Ashamed but determined, I went and got myself an iPhone 4S, mainly so I could play the popular mobile game “I Am MT.”

As for how to send a text with the 4S, I’m not afraid to admit to everyone: I still haven’t figured it out.

Five minutes later, the “still” in that sentence became past tense.

I have to give a shout-out—the energy of these young people is just too much. Just now, it only took me five minutes to finally figure out how to send a text with this thing!

At that moment, the airport announcement sounded again: “Is Shawn, Mr. Shawn here? Please proceed to gate XX to board your flight as soon as possible.”

It sounded like the announcement had nothing to do with me, but actually, my name is Shawn.

I froze for a second and almost cursed out loud—damn, turns out I’m on this flight too!

I rarely respond to instructions as promptly as I did today. They said to board as soon as possible, so I boarded as soon as possible.

In the cabin, I ran into Jane Jenkins. She was stunned too, and for even longer than I was.

When our eyes met, my imagination kicked in automatically. A scene flashed through my mind: she and I sneaking off to some hidden spot on the plane, and after takeoff, I couldn’t help but touch her, and she couldn’t help but touch me...

Well, that’s why it’s called a fantasy—there’s no way we could actually find a hidden spot in real life.

A slightly older flight attendant nearby, who probably knew Jane Jenkins pretty well, had a particularly amusing reaction. While Jane Jenkins and I were exchanging glances, this lady looked at me, then at Jane Jenkins, and basically treated me like some aging, unmarried guy in need of help. The look she gave us was exactly the kind you’d give when innocence meets reality, and she even threw in an encouraging matchmaker’s glance.

Jane Jenkins was very professional. After I sat down, she kept busy with her work and didn’t have time to pay attention to me.

But we still exchanged glances, and that kind of silent communication was even more exciting.

Silent communication is actually pretty difficult. I never thought she and I could reach the level where silence speaks louder than words. It made life feel like a dream—everything was just too wonderful.

In games, teams that rely on eye contact usually end up wiped out, but if you could take down the final boss just by exchanging glances, the sense of achievement would be overwhelming. Right now, I feel like I’ve exchanged glances with her and successfully taken down the final boss.

What started as a pure exchange changed in nature because of my impure thoughts.

At first, I was very pure. But then I thought, I’m already in my thirties—still being pure? Even I can’t forgive myself for that. So I decided to get a little crude. Honestly, crude things often express a man’s true thoughts.

From a distance, I shot her a look that meant: Are you single?

She gave me a look back, the subtext being: What do you think?

I returned another look, meaning: Judging by how flirty you look, you must be single, right?

Her eyes showed a hint of playful reproach, her expression straight out of a classic line from “Gone with the Wind”: Sir, you really are no gentleman.

I immediately smiled and shot back a look that echoed another classic line from “Gone with the Wind”: Miss, you’re no lady either.

She instantly turned her face away, and I saw her shyly lower her head.

To make sure I wasn’t imagining things, I deliberately put on my glasses.

This time I saw clearly—it really wasn’t a dream.

I’m glad I’m not the clueless hothead I used to be. There are benefits to being an older guy—at least I can see things clearly and make good judgments. In the eyes of those young people, I’m practically a legendary “been there, done that” type. Looking at Jane Jenkins’s face, I could totally imagine what kind of story might unfold between us next.

Chapter 010: Dreamlike Reality

I had a dream.

In the dream, a girl with a lovely scent was calling out to me with deep affection, clutching my shoulders desperately, crying and begging me not to leave—even though I had never intended to leave in the first place.

When I opened my eyes, the dream had come true. Sure enough, there was a girl by my side patting my shoulder, her voice gentle, though her words were a bit different from the dream. She said, “Sir, it’s time to get off the plane.”

What happened next was the exact opposite of the dream: not only did the flight attendant not beg me to stay, she turned around and walked away from me.

I rubbed my eyes, and once I was fully awake, I wanted to slap myself a few times.

Originally, my plan was to find a chance during the flight to reminisce with Jane Jenkins about the past, look to the future, talk about life, and share our dreams. But as soon as the plane took off, I fell asleep. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. I can’t figure out why I never seem to learn my lesson in this regard.

Back in my early twenties, I once slept in the same bed with a woman who wasn’t my girlfriend but wasn’t just an ordinary female friend either. We chatted for a long time, and while chatting, we both fell asleep.