Chapter 8
Lai Hui hid behind the curtains, while Xie Jiayi sat in the car. The distance between them seemed vast, yet through the gap in the curtains, they felt connected, as if the slit were a yellowed ribbon, pulling their thoughts back to many years ago. Xie Jiayi once asked Lai Hui, “When did you start liking me?”
Lai Hui said, “On the first day of school, in the warm autumn, you sat in the second-to-last row, with golden sunlight on your desk, your hair shimmering like transparent gold.”
Xie Jiayi then asked, “What was I wearing that day?”
Lai Hui replied, “I’ve forgotten, I only remember your eyes were as clear as a spring.”
In truth, Lai Hui had forgotten when she began to like Jiayi. It certainly wasn’t on the first day of school because on that day, her mother was still arranging her tuition fees, which were paid the next day. When did she actually see the sunlight on Jiayi’s desk? She had forgotten, but there must have been such a scene that imprinted itself in her memory without her noticing, which was why she spoke of it so naturally.
Lai Hui also asked Jiayi, “When did you start liking me?”
Jiayi said, “The night I walked you home.”
Actually, Jiayi had also forgotten. Ever since Lai Hui confessed her feelings on the playground and he walked her home, they had been finding excuses to spend time together. One geometry problem Lai Hui had already solved, yet she showed him her workbook and said, “I just can’t solve this problem, I don’t know where I went wrong. Could you explain it to me?”
Jiayi patiently explained, and as Lai Hui leaned closer, her chin near his soft, well-behaved hair, the faint scent of his shampoo wafted into her nostrils. He would pause after each explanation to ask if she understood, only to find her gaze fixed on him, not the textbook. Their eyes met, his face inexplicably flushed, and he quickly turned away to continue, “…There is exactly one plane parallel to line a…”
Lai Hui said, “Can we continue this after evening study?”
