We sometimes ate together, discussing the strange hobbies of medical professors and the differences between Chinese and Japanese cultures. I would ask him for help, and he patiently translated and explained complex pathology while teaching me how to prepare publications that would satisfy the professors. He would also ask for my help in borrowing Professor Fujii’s research results on bacteria. At times, we stood by the window, watching people fishing by the lake and analyzing whether Japanese people all had some kind of problem.
Sometimes, after dusk, we would lean against our balcony railings, quietly watching the cherry blossom tree, waiting for the blossoms to bloom overnight. I would play music loudly so we could hear the flowing love songs. He would bring unexpected surprises.
One day, I heard the doorbell, and upon opening the door, I found a terrible cactus and a large birthday cake. Excitedly hugging the cake, I noticed a note on the door: “Girl, I’ll come back for dinner!” I smiled but muttered, “Annoying!”
I then decided not to go to the lab and prepared a feast at home for my birthday. Later, I asked him how he knew it was my birthday, but he refused to tell me. If such ambiguity didn’t develop into something more, it would seem against the laws of nature.
Unfortunately, in the past few months, Ye Zhengchen and I hadn’t sparked any romantic interest. Our vibes just didn’t match. I didn’t like his type of man, who was available to everyone, while he didn’t like me, a girl pretending to be pure and wanting responsibility before intimacy.
However, the lack of intimacy didn’t diminish our friendship, which was built on national and class solidarity. I cherished this feeling, hoping it would cultivate into something more meaningful in this unwelcoming Japanese environment. I often thought that if I grew old and reminisced about these days, I would smile sincerely, grateful for having met such a special man during my loneliest time.
One afternoon, while in class, Ye Zhengchen suddenly called, saying he was injured and in the emergency room. My mind went blank as I rushed to the emergency department. His right arm was extensively scraped and bleeding. After confirming he had no fractures, I slumped in the chair beside him, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
