Chapter 3: The Past
Feng Zihao drove the sleeping Yun Xinyu home, covered her with a blanket, and sat down on the sofa beside her.
He gazed at Yun Xinyu’s peaceful face as she slept, his mind drifting back many years.
Back then, he was a thin, frail third-grader constantly bullied by older children.
Each time they beat him, he endured silently, praying the pain would end quickly so he could return home sooner.
One day, he encountered the same group of troublemakers on the street and braced himself for another beating.
As they kicked and punched him, a young girl’s furious voice cut through the air: “Stop! Stop right now! If you don’t, I’ll call the police! There’s an officer nearby!”
The bully leader paused and sneered at her. “Oh? Where’d this little girl come from? What officer? I don’t see anyone.”
“Look over there!” The girl pointed firmly with her small hand.
Feng Zihao cautiously opened his eyes. True enough, a traffic officer patrolled the intersection nearby.
The bully’s bravado faded. “You’ll pay for this,” he muttered before fleeing with his gang.
The girl hurried to help Feng Zihao up. His slender arms were mottled with bruises and scars, a fresh cut bleeding at his elbow.
She pulled out a handkerchief and bandaged his wound with care. Even in her youth, her features hinted at striking beauty.
Feng Zihao stared, momentarily forgetting his pain.
When she finished, she admonished him sternly: “Don’t let this keep happening. The more you endure, the more they’ll hurt you. My dad says if you always give in, they’ll... they’ll...” She scrunched her brow. “Oh right! They’ll take advantage forever!”
Her grave expression made Feng Zihao laugh—she looked absurdly adorable trying to be serious.
“Fine, I’ll stop lecturing. But this handkerchief is special. I’m giving it to you, so treat it well!”
“Thank you,” Feng Zihao whispered.
Satisfied, she turned to leave. He pressed his lips together, wanting to ask her name, but she vanished before he could speak.
Three characters were embroidered on the cloth: Yun Xinyu.
Years later, when Feng Zihao heard “Yun Xinyu” called during his high school roll call, his heart clenched as he stared at the girl who answered.
Because of that long-ago child, he’d stopped cowering and learned to fight back.
Her simple advice had shifted his childhood from pain and fury to courage and resolve.
He became her friend, sharing her joys and sorrows, silently vowing to ensure her happiness.
Gratitude slowly bloomed into longing. When they reunited, every suppressed feeling erupted as love.
She’s the one, he decided. No one else.
He waited patiently, year after year, hoping she’d turn and see him waiting—that she might love him as he loved her.
But he never spoke of the handkerchief or their first meeting.
It remained his guarded childhood secret, cherished alone in the quiet of his heart.
(End of Chapter)
