She’s Way Too Hard to Chase

On the first day of her repeated senior year, Zhou Leqi completely shut herself off. She told herself not to have any expectations for this repeat year and to avoid unnecessary relationships at all costs. But the boy who everyone called “God Hou,” who happened to be late on the first day of school, quietly barged into her life. Later, in the dimly lit hallway of her apartment building, he pulled her tightly into his arms. His voice was as scorching as the hands that held her close. He said, “It’s okay if you don’t like me… but could you try liking yourself a little more?” Years later, on a gentle and warm spring night in Rome, she appeared before him once again. He pushed through the crowd toward her, presenting an entirely different demeanor—cold and brooding compared to his teenage years. But ultimately, she touched his heart again and heard his lost murmurs in the darkness: “…Are you here to take me home?” We part ways at the very last moment of our youth, only to meet again in the world of adults. If we can still say “I love you” by the time we meet again, perhaps that’s what true love is.