Chapter Thirty-Five: Taking a Disciple

“Xi Zhen, would it be possible for us to hear your live dubbing?” Mu Zhi Tao sat beside Leng Zhen, looking at her as she asked.

Leng Zhen had always been powerless against anything cute and lovable, so she naturally agreed.

She is the light that illuminates my life:
I like someone—she is the only ray of light in my dark existence.

I remember, the summer before I entered sixth grade, my parents divorced. From my earliest memories, my parents were always fighting, even after my younger brother was born. The arguments never ceased. Eventually, they separated.

Both of them asked who I wanted to live with. I didn’t know, so I followed the court’s decision: my brother and I stayed with our mother.

In daily life, my mother, grandmother, my brother, and I all lived together. My mother and grandmother always urged me to bring honor to my mother, not to let my father and his mistress look down on me.

Because of this, I lived in a perpetual state of inferiority, believing whatever I did was wrong, so nothing ever went well.

The summer after I graduated from junior high, I fell in love with novels, and from then on, I couldn’t stop. That summer, I gained many like-minded friends. We wrote stories together, and my first book was accepted by Crazy Reader.

With excitement and nervousness, I wanted to tell my mother, thinking she would approve. But reality hit me hard.

My mother refused, telling me to focus on my studies, not to neglect my academic future. Again, she said I must bring her honor, not let my father and his mistress look down on me.

I was somewhat rebellious. When my mother disagreed, I argued with her, then gathered my belongings and left the home where I had lived for more than a decade, the home that always felt suffocating.

It was a rainy day. I walked with my head down through a narrow alley. Although the alley was lined with all kinds of flowers, my heart was cold and desolate.

I squatted by a wall, looking at so many houses, but none belonged to me—none offered me shelter.

She passed by, handed me an umbrella, and invited me to her home. We were classmates, so I went.

She asked what had happened, and I told her everything. She took me to her parents, explained the situation, and asked if I could stay with them.

Her parents, seeing my plight, agreed. So I stayed at their home.

Every day, we went to and from school together, played together… Her smile was like a beam of light, shining upon me, gradually illuminating my entire world.

Perhaps such things only happen in novels, but I assure you, this is real.

I fell in love with this radiant girl, but I knew I was not worthy of her. I wanted to give up. But…when I was about to let go, I found I couldn’t.

She is the light in my life.

The world cannot exist without light; otherwise, it would never be whole.

I worked hard, striving to catch up with her, wanting to stand by her side and shout: She is mine!

Gradually, I drew closer to her. We were admitted to the same high school, studied and worked together, planned our future—though, sadly, it was not a future for the two of us.

Bit by bit, I overcame my inferiority, climbing upward step by step.

I feel Dog Egg (Wu Zhe) was right in Wild Youth: “No one’s life is always perfect, but no matter the time, we must look forward. With hope, we can overcome anything.”

During the college entrance exam, both of us were admitted to the same university.

One university, one major, one dormitory. We went everywhere together, inseparable like conjoined twins; strangers often thought we were in a relationship.

Throughout our time together, I tried to sway her, but mostly, she swayed me. She has to take responsibility.

In my heart, I believe only restrooms need gender separation—why should love? Whether it’s a teacher-student romance, sibling romance, or same-sex love, society rarely accepts them. But all are born from mutual affection.

If two people love each other, why should they be torn apart by prejudice?

On her birthday, with her parents’ blessing and support, I secretly planned a confession and professed my feelings.

I was terribly nervous, afraid she would refuse, but the outcome was clear—she said yes.

Later, I learned she had already fallen for me, intending to confess on my birthday, but I beat her to it.

Now, I am a novelist, she is a working woman, and I can proudly stand by her side and declare to anyone: She is mine!

May all secret loves in this world come true.

Once, I secretly loved a boy. He was handsome and intelligent, the idol of many.

I was his neighbor’s little sister; we grew up together. Our mothers were best friends, our fathers were brothers. Since childhood, they’d tease us, saying we were a perfect match and should be engaged.

He and I were always close, same grade, same schools from elementary through high school.

When my heart first awakened to love, I fell for this attractive, intelligent boy.

Secret love is hard—you don’t know his thoughts, don’t know if he likes you, or if he prefers another girl who is better in every way and closer to him. That feeling of uncertainty never leaves.

So, I always strove to keep up with him, to become better, so that I could stand beside him and tell everyone: He is mine! He is my man!

He had many admirers, but I was the only girl close to him. I could never figure out if he liked me as a woman or just cared for me as a sister.

I often discussed this with my best friend. She urged me to confess, lest someone else snatch him away. But I was timid and could not do it.

My best friend also liked someone—a girl. Naturally, I couldn’t ask her for advice, since she hadn’t succeeded herself.

After the college entrance exam, when we checked our scores, he suddenly asked where I planned to go for university. Both of us scored over six hundred, nearly seven hundred points, and our phones rang nonstop with calls.

In the end, we both chose Fudan University, perhaps because it was close to home, and also because my best friend was admitted there.

For a while, I was jealous whenever a girl appeared near him. I recalled how, in junior high, a classmate liked a boy and felt upset seeing him chat with other girls, always complaining to me.

Now, I suddenly understood her feelings.

Though I knew this secret love might end fruitlessly… still, I wanted to try, to gamble, to see whether he liked me, whether his care was for a sister or for a woman.

In our first year of university, I confessed to him. I thought he would refuse, but to my surprise, he agreed.

That day, he took me to his apartment and told our parents I wouldn’t be coming home. That night, he held me as we slept.

The next morning, I thought it was a dream, but he showed me it was real, with his actions.

This was not a fairy tale, nor a novel, but reality.

It felt like a dream, but my Mr. Gu assured me it was all true.

In those budding days of love, I fell for him, never imagining he felt the same.

It seems absurd, but in our second year, our parents arranged our engagement. After graduation, we married.

He treats me well, and I, alongside my best friend, am a struggling web novelist at home, while Mr. Gu works to support me. My best friend has also succeeded in her romance—with a girl.

My best friend and I share the same view: Only restrooms need gender separation—why should love? If two people love each other, why should prejudice tear them apart?

But I also believe: Secret love does not always end in defeat. You won’t know if he likes you unless you try. Liking is meeting your match; loving is surrendering willingly. Someone who loves you will never let you lose, but someone who doesn’t will always let you down!

May all secret loves in the world have their happy ending.

A story like a fairy tale, yet uncertain if it is one

He and I were childhood friends, growing up together. He was two years older, and we once promised to attend the same university, to grow up together and never leave each other.

But at fifteen, he broke his promise.

Afterward, my parents divorced, which hit me hard. I was torn and lost, not knowing what to do.

In the end, I chose neither side, living independently.

The stubbornness of childhood drove me to study hard in my final school year, and finally, I was admitted to Fudan University.

Fudan was full of outstanding seniors. Once, while jogging, a basketball suddenly struck my head. The senior who threw it hurried over, smiled at me, apologized, and left.

Only later did I realize his smile was so healing—it soothed my soul, though it wasn’t quite love.

After that, the senior began to pursue me, showering me with affection and special treatment. His sincerity moved me, and I eventually agreed. It turned out he was my online male confidant.

Through online chats, we understood each other well. He cared deeply for me, remembering all my important dates.

I had thought he was a typical straight guy, but he was in fact a gentle soul. He made brown sugar water for me during my period, chose dating spots, took photos…

He doted on me endlessly. Wherever I wanted to go, he took me. When my grades faltered, he tutored me. If someone tried to pursue him, he declined, all to prevent my jealousy.

Within a few meters of him, I was the only girl allowed—no other woman could enter his space.

In our third year, during winter break, we met each other's parents. Both families approved and began discussing marriage.

He agreed to visit Beijing with me during summer break, planning to see where my parents met and pick tea.

One day, in the dorm, as I sang with pride, my roommate rushed in to tell me he was going abroad. The finance department had only one overseas slot—he got it. My mind went blank, and I hurried to ask if it was true.

His answer struck me hard:

“It’s true. I’m sorry, Xing Chen. I don’t want my building to have even a tiny flaw… You know, a building collapses if it has even a centimeter of imperfection.”

“So…am I the flaw in your building?” I suddenly felt a pang of resentment. Why? Why? Why is the future so important?

“I’m sorry, Xing Chen. Your online name is as beautiful as you… Goodbye!”

I realized then that any relationship can end with a simple “I’m sorry.” I cried and said, “Then I wish you a bright future, without regrets!”

“Thank you.”

And so, we missed each other…

Two years after graduation, a friend invited me to Beijing. When classmates mentioned him, I suddenly remembered he’d once promised to take me to Beijing.

I set off for Beijing, stood atop the Great Wall, overlooking the world.

At some point, tears streamed down my face. I had thought I’d forgotten him.

As I prepared to descend, I saw, in the crowd, my childhood friend and the senior. I suddenly understood something and smiled, lowering my head.

I don’t know if I was smiling or crying. At that moment, I realized this dream was not mine alone, but belonged to several people…

As I write of my experiences, I don’t know what is real and what is fantasy—perhaps half and half! For a period, I felt hopeless. Was I so unworthy that both of them left me?

One phrase left a deep impression on me: “To live brilliantly, one must ultimately pay with loneliness.”

My childhood friend once asked about my dream of marriage, and I replied, “Like the stars, I wish to keep faith with one person, from the breaking dawn to snow-white hair.”

It seems like a fairy tale, but their choices are far more real.

“Ah! Xi Zhen! Your voice is so beautiful! How about you take me as your apprentice?” Mu Zhi Tao hugged Leng Zhen, looking at her as she asked.

Leng Zhen thought for a moment, then nodded, “Alright. What do you want to learn? As long as I know it, I’ll teach you.”

“Mm-hmm! Yes, yes!” Mu Zhi Tao nodded enthusiastically in reply.