After that, she pretty much stopped interacting with me. I could totally understand how she felt. At that time, in her eyes, I must have been nothing more than an old, worn-out joke: Once upon a time, a man and a woman lay on the same bed. The woman said, “If you dare do anything, you’re a beast.” The man, sure enough, did nothing. The next day, the woman slapped the man hard and said, “I didn’t expect you to be even less than a beast.”

After reading the story above, some people might think I’m super naive, the kind of single-celled youth who can fall asleep as soon as he lies down. Actually, that’s not the case. If I remember correctly, when there wasn’t a woman around, I often tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Humans really are self-tormenting creatures.

Unlike before, this time there was a real reason I fell asleep.

Last night, I pulled an all-nighter gaming. By morning, I was still hyped up, so I just didn’t sleep. When I finally wanted to sleep at noon, my friend Roger called, saying there was something urgent and I had to meet him today. After booking a ticket online, I took a car from Shigatse to Lhasa, then transferred to the airport. I hadn’t planned to go to Chengdu today—Roger completely messed up my travel plans.

Looking back with hindsight, that phone call pushed the wheels of history in a more pleasant direction. If it weren’t for Roger’s call, I wouldn’t have met Jane Jenkins.

Back to Jane Jenkins—my heart was blooming with joy.

Jane Jenkins was standing at the boarding gate, looking at me, her gaze filled with a hint of affection.

Neither of us spoke, both caught in that subtle atmosphere.

When getting off the plane, for the first time, I resented her being a flight attendant. At that moment, I thought, if only she were a passenger, then we could walk out hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder. Unfortunately, she just happened to be the flight attendant on this plane, and she had to stick to her professional ethics, so I could only walk out alone.

I wandered into the waiting lounge, really wanting to see her one more time.

Actually, I had no idea if she would show up in the lounge. I just naively believed I’d see her again, and that such a meeting would give her a pleasant surprise.

But in reality, I didn’t give her a surprise—she gave me a big one instead.

Fifteen minutes later, I felt like an idiot, making things hard for myself. About twenty meters away, there was a man in his thirties, holding the hand of a little girl about two or three years old. After a while, Jane Jenkins walked over, picked up the little girl, and the three of them walked away together.

My thoughts instantly split into two parts.

One part was the beautiful scene from a second ago—that was the dream.

The other part was the harsh reality from a second later—that was real life.

Until Jane Jenkins disappeared from my sight, the fantasy shattered along with her, and I returned to reality.

Thinking about it, it made sense. I had no idea what she’d been doing these past ten-plus years, and she didn’t know what I’d been up to either. I didn’t know what kind of person she was now, and she didn’t know what kind of person I’d become. Relying solely on memories from junior high over a decade ago was pointless.

I guess I’m an idealist—that’s the nice way to put it. In truth, there’s not much difference between idealism and wishful thinking. Take what just happened, for example—I was clearly being way too optimistic. I found myself ridiculous, even hoping she’d stayed single all these years, quietly waiting for me.

What I learned from this is: eye contact really isn’t reliable.

Our reunion took two hours to weave a dream.

And it only took two minutes for reality to teach me a lesson.

I wasn’t upset. At my age, there are some things you just have to face.

Since I’m already a father, why can’t she be someone else’s mother?

That’s the kind of issue I have to face at this age.

I guess I’ve been used to facing things like this for about three years now.

I took ten minutes to adjust myself, and felt there was nothing to regret. Not only did we have a “then,” we also had a “last.” If I were to make a sentence, it would go like this: Today I met the girl who sat in front of me in junior high, Jane Jenkins. Then we took the same flight back to Chengdu, and finally I found out she was married and had a daughter...

See, there really isn’t a story in the world that can’t be told in three sentences.

At the very end, I still wanted to send her my best wishes, but if I said something like “Take care, I wish you happiness,” I’d feel fake. After thinking it over, I decided to end our story in a more artistic way—by singing a song: “How are you doing in that faraway place? Do you still remember the boy who kicked your butt?”

Chapter 011: Laugh It Off

When I saw Warren, I put Jane Jenkins out of my mind.

Meeting an old friend in a foreign place is one of life’s great joys. By my count, I hadn’t seen Warren in four years.

For a man, the name Warren sounds a bit effeminate, and there’s a story behind it.

Back in high school, the guy grew a bit of a beard, so he thought he was too rugged and needed to balance out his rough vibe. He made us all call him Warren. Later, we found out he mainly did it to act cute in front of a certain girl, turning himself into a soft pretty boy inside and out.