Chapter 313: The Contest (Middle)

At five o’clock, the County Party Committee Office invited Duan Ying and Du Chenglong to a reception dinner. Duan Ying hesitated, reluctant to attend, but Wang Hui called again. Seeing that the Section Chief had issued the invitation, Duan Ying and Du Chenglong had no choice but to rush to the dinner held at the small guesthouse.

Meanwhile, the New Management Committee had already reserved a private room at a Chongqing-style Jianghu cuisine restaurant. Hou Weidong gathered Zhang Jin, Zhang Xiangyu, and other members of the leadership team to enjoy the spicy, aromatic, and fiery dishes. While their mouths were satisfied, their stomachs began to protest.

After the banquet, the members of the New Management Committee dispersed. Hou Weidong returned alone to Shazhou College. He got out of the car at the gate and instructed his new driver, who was still in his probationary period, “Come pick me up at eight tomorrow morning. I need to see Director Wang off.”

From the main gate of Shazhou College to the Professors’ Building lay a winding avenue, like the trunk of a great tree, with other paths branching off from it. Tall trees lined both sides of the avenue, planted by the founders of the college decades ago. Over the years, those saplings had grown into sturdy pillars, their dense canopies shielding students from wind, rain, and scorching sun.

Under the streetlights, the new buds on the trees appeared even greener than in daylight. As Hou Weidong approached the teaching building, the bell rang, and groups of students emerged from the study halls.

Hou Weidong was all too familiar with this scene. During his four years at Shazhou College, there were countless nights when he and Xiaojia had walked secretly along the tree-covered paths, blending into the night and the crowd. Liu Kun, Jiang Dali, Duan Ying, Yang Qian, and others had also walked this avenue, carrying books and filled with hopeful dreams of sweet romance.

Several years after graduation, Hou Weidong had coincidentally returned to live within the college grounds. Yet, despite residing there, he no longer possessed the mindset of a student. His car sped through the avenue during his commute, and he rarely noticed the scenery on either side. Sometimes, he even found the crowds of students obstructing his path.

Tonight, walking along this straight avenue with students chatting and laughing ahead and behind him, he couldn’t help but reminisce about his four years of university life. Soon, his thoughts returned to reality. He took his mobile phone from his pocket, hesitated for a moment, then put it back, thinking, “This ambiguous relationship with Duan Ying must come to an end sooner or later. It’s better to cut it off early than late.”

Then he remembered the点点滴滴 (bits and pieces) of their chance encounters right after graduation. To cut ties so abruptly seemed unreasonable.

Duan Ying had left the county committee’s banquet early. Although the event was high-profile, with rich dishes and a lively atmosphere where guests mingled joyfully, she had little appetite. After hastily eating a few bites, she excused herself to visit an old friend, asked Director Wang for leave, and left the venue.

She wandered aimlessly around the pedestrian street in Yiyang. Compared to Lingxi, Yiyang’s pedestrian street was far inferior, with few upscale shops and aging facilities. By eight o’clock, while night life in Lingxi was just beginning, the pedestrian street in Yiyang was noticeably sparse, with most shops preparing to close.

Duan Ying lost interest in shopping. When she had worked in Yiyang, she had stayed with relatives. When she transferred to Shazhou, she returned the apartment to them. Without housing, she had lost her foothold in Yiyang.

She had left this city, and in turn, the city had abandoned her.

Exiting the pedestrian street, she saw a taxi waiting at the corner. As if guided by fate, Duan Ying hailed the cab and said, “Shazhou College.”

Upon arriving at the college gate, she walked in slowly. Time seemed to stand still within the campus. The trees remained, the water was unchanged. Walking along the sidewalk, she stopped before a particularly thick tree. Under the streetlight, she clearly saw the scar on the branch where her former boyfriend from the Accounting Department had carved a declaration of love with a knife: “Ying, my eternal love.”

The characters were blurred, but the marks remained. That devoted young man had long since vanished into the vast sea of people, like two small boats drifting in the ocean. After being shattered by storms, unless fate intervened specifically, the chance of meeting again was virtually zero.

Perhaps that was why college romances were so fleeting.

Yet, due to the unique environment of the university campus, college love became an experience in life—whether sad, joyful, shallow, or profound—it always left a place deep within the heart.

Standing by the tree for a while, she was awakened from her reverie by students emerging from the classrooms. With a sense of loss, she left the tree bearing traces of the past and continued along the avenue.

Every step was a scene, every corner held memories of the past. She paused at a small garden in the middle of the avenue. From this garden, she could clearly see the reflection of lights on the lake surface and even hear the faint sound of piano music coming from the Music Department.

At nine o’clock, Duan Ying finally took out her mobile phone and dialed Hou Weidong’s number. Just as the call connected, the ringtone of a mobile phone echoed from the sidewalk outside the small garden. In 1998, although mobile phones had gradually shed their exclusivity and entered ordinary households, students still couldn’t afford them. Hearing the ringtone from outside the garden, her heart skipped a beat.

She saw Hou Weidong walking by, saying “Hello, hello” repeatedly.

Duan Ying said, “Stop saying hello. I’m in the small garden.”

Hou Weidong turned around in surprise. He saw Duan Ying standing in the central garden, wearing a short coat. “What are you doing here?”

“Why can’t I be here? Isn’t it right to visit my alma mater?”

Hou Weidong chuckled. “Did the county committee banquet end without any other arrangements?”

Duan Ying’s gaze returned to the lights on the lake. “It was just karaoke, dancing, and drinking at the county committee’s small guesthouse. Nothing interesting.”

“You and Reporter Du were dragged away by the county committee, forcing our team to eat at the Chongqing Jianghu cuisine restaurant.”

Duan Ying said lightly, “Even if we hadn’t come, you would have eaten anyway.”

Seeing Duan Ying’s low spirits, Hou Weidong didn’t bother with small talk. “Shall I walk with you by the lake?”

Duan Ying didn’t speak, just nodded. They took the path from the small garden straight to the lake. This was a path covered by shrubs and tall trees, famous in Shazhou College as the “Love Path.” They walked silently through it, occasionally seeing couples embracing in the shadows of the trees. These figures, like solid stone statues, were completely immersed in their own world, indifferent to passersby.

“It’s been only a few years since graduation, yet the changes are so great,” Hou Weidong broke the silence as they reached the lake.

“In what way?”

“In every way.”

In the breeze from the lake, Duan Ying shivered and pulled her collar up. She took Hou Weidong’s arm, speaking with a mix of sentimentality and self-mockery, “As I walked from the gate, I saw a tree with his carving. Back then, I truly believed love could last forever. Who knew that as soon as the graduation assignments were announced, he resolutely broke up with me, leaving no room for reconciliation. Looking back now, he was truly a man of action, cutting the knot decisively without dragging things out.”

Hou Weidong knew the details of Duan Ying’s relationship with her Accounting Department boyfriend through Xiaojia. In a sense, he was the outsider who understood Duan Ying’s romantic history best. He asked, “Did you keep in touch after graduation?”

“I only occasionally miss those college days. In real life, I don’t want to see him again. I have no interest, nor time.”

Standing by the lake, Duan Ying said calmly but sadly, “Husbands and wives are birds of the same forest; when disaster strikes, they fly apart. How much more so for lovers? Only after graduation did I realize that love is just a part of life, and not the most important part. Survival is the primary need.”

After graduation, Duan Ying was assigned to Yiyang Silk Factory, a county-owned enterprise in Yiyang. Soon after starting work, the factory, like many similar enterprises, was rapidly eliminated in the process of marketization. As the ship of the silk factory was about to sink, she became Liu Kun’s girlfriend to survive, and thus transferred to the Yiyang Newspaper. This step was crucial for Duan Ying. Without it, she would never have entered the Lingxi newspaper system, and none of today’s events would have happened.

Walking slowly along the winding path by the lake, it felt like a day in the early 1990s—romantic and melancholic.

Hou Weidong said, “Don’t let these objects sadden you. Let’s talk about something happy. Human potential can be infinitely developed. You studied biology, yet now you’re thriving in journalism. Could you have imagined back then that you’d become a famous reporter?”

Duan Ying said, “Don’t use the term ‘famous reporter.’ In Lingxi, it’s used as a joke.” Hou Weidong then realized that “famous reporter” (ming ji) sounded like “famous prostitute” (ming ji). He laughed, “Don’t mind me. I didn’t think of that layer.”

Turning from the lakeside path to the Professors’ Building, seeing the dotted lights of the building, Hou Weidong thought, “Things have come to this point; there’s no need to hide anymore.” He invited, “Come sit in my room.”

When Duan Ying had called Hou Weidong, she had prepared herself mentally. But when Hou Weidong issued the invitation, she still struggled internally for a moment. “I always feel that doing this would be unfair to Xiaojia.”

Hou Weidong had just lifted his foot, but upon hearing this, he gently pulled it back and looked at Duan Ying’s face.

The streetlights by the lake were sparse, the light dotted and starry, illuminating Duan Ying’s face differently than usual. She seemed less capable and more hazy.

“Weidong, promise me, just this once,” Duan Ying lifted her face, her slightly thick lips unexpectedly clear.

The two fell silent again, understanding each other implicitly, and walked towards the Professors’ Building. At the bottom of the building, Hou Weidong saw that Professor Guo’s balcony was dark, so he and Duan Ying quickly went upstairs, praying as they walked, “Please don’t let Professor Guo’s wife come out.”

When they entered the room, Hou Weidong gently closed the door. Without turning on the light, he embraced Duan Ying tightly. Both their hearts were pounding “thump, thump.”

“You’re still so full-figured,” Hou Weidong said. He warmed his hands outside Duan Ying’s underwear for a while, and only when they were warm did he slip them inside. His hands were not small, yet they couldn’t fully grasp her full breasts.