Chapter 9: Her Memo

The alarm went off early, silenced by Meng Zhi with a single press.

He couldn’t recall when it started, but his sleep had grown shallow. As if deep slumber invited relentless nightmares.

Yawning, he pushed open his bedroom door. The house was empty. Tables and chairs were neatly arranged, the floor spotless, as if last night’s visitors were a mirage.

A note sat on the dining table, left by his father.

Meng Zhi skimmed it. Dense with a father’s apologies and guilt, it spoke of reluctance to let go of the family, of him. Each word seemed heartfelt, moving.

He glanced at it briefly, then tore it up and tossed it in the trash.

…He’d heard words like these every life.

Whether they were sincere, he didn’t know. He’d once begged them not to leave, tears streaming, but saw no trace of reluctance in their eyes.

Now, their words felt almost comical.

On the table was a bank card. His father’s note said both parents would deposit monthly living expenses. The house was his to live in; they’d already moved on to their new families.

For them, Meng Zhi was an adult. After the exam, he’d live his own life, no longer their concern.

That was for the best.

Without hesitation, he pocketed the card and checked the time.

Six fifty.

Still early for the shopping meetup.

Order takeout or cook? As he debated, the doorbell rang.

Opening the door, he saw Chen Xinya.

“Why’re you here? No school?”

“There’s still some time…” Chen Xinya peeked into the house, then said uneasily, “Last night… I saw a bunch of people leave your place. Not just your parents, but strangers too. I was worried—”

“It’s nothing. My dad’s new partner came to lay things out,” Meng Zhi said casually. “It was bound to happen. Better sooner than later.”

Chen Xinya looked at him, her eyes tinged with pity.

She didn’t know he was reborn. To her, the eighteen-year-old boy before her still had a youthful edge to his brow, but his eyes carried a weary, shadowed depth.

His parents’ divorce had been his biggest blow back then.

Fresh from the exam, still smiling from a smooth test, he was hit with the news like a thunderbolt.

For three days, Chen Xinya couldn’t find him. He’d vanished from the world.

When she finally did, he was at the school’s internet café, cursing at teammates in a game, acting like he’d forgotten the divorce.

She knew he hadn’t. Overnight, he’d learned to pretend everything was fine.

“No need to comfort me,” Meng Zhi said, shrugging. “I’m not upset. Feels like a relief, actually.”

Chen Xinya saw the calm in his eyes, opened her mouth, but said nothing.

She wanted to hug him. Like the countless times after work when he’d bury his tired face in her arms to recharge.

But not now.

He wasn’t her husband yet.

Her care and closeness had to stay within bounds.

“I… actually came to ask if you’re hungry.”

Fidgeting with her fingers, she stammered, “I figured with your parents gone, no one’s cooking. You’re probably starving this morning—”

Meng Zhi paused, eyeing her hesitantly. “You came this early just to cook for me?”

“I already made food. If you’re hungry, you can eat now.”

She stood there, watching him, her eyes blinking with faint expectation.

After a moment’s silence, Meng Zhi nodded. “Alright.”

A flicker of joy crossed Chen Xinya’s face. She reached instinctively for his hand. “Let’s go. The noodles are in the pot, still warm—”

Her hand grasped air.

Meng Zhi, intentionally or not, dodged her touch and walked ahead, as if oblivious to her gesture.

Chen Xinya’s face fell briefly, but she quickly composed herself.

‘…Chen Xinya, don’t rush.’

Love was a tender sprout that needed time to grow.

Only a sturdy branch could withstand time and trivialities, preventing the past life’s tragedy from repeating.

Be patient. This time, you have time.

She told herself.

*

It was the familiar stir-fried noodles again.

But with the last attempt as practice, Chen Xinya didn’t oversalt them this time. One bite brought a familiar taste to Meng Zhi.

After their marriage, he’d tasted this flavor countless times, etched into his very bones.

“How is it? Way better than last time, right?”

“Definitely… you’re improving fast.”

Finishing the bowl quickly, Meng Zhi glanced at the time. “But if you don’t head to school, you’ll miss more than just morning study. First period’s coming up.”

“If I remember right, your Wednesday first period is with Wang Chen, that strict freak.”

Wang Chen was the disciplinary director and honors class teacher, a highly academic but rigid old man.

Chen Xinya gasped, grabbing her bag and slipping on her shoes. “Just leave the bowl. I’ll wash it when I’m back.”

“There’s a key under the doormat for you. Come to my place anytime if you don’t want to go home. I’m off!”

She vanished out the door in a rush.

Meng Zhi chuckled. It’d been a while since he’d seen her so flustered, a sight from their school days.

It was kind of cute, that youthful girlish charm unique to her student years.

After leisurely finishing another bowl, he stood and stretched.

…One hour left.

Wandering aimlessly around the house, he stopped at Chen Xinya’s bedroom door.

Pushing it open, he stepped into the clean room, faintly scented with her presence.

At her desk, he gently opened a drawer. Inside was a blue notebook.

He knew it was her planner.

She was meticulous, always jotting down tasks to avoid forgetting, a habit from childhood.

Flipping to the latest page, he saw a few lines:

[Find a chance to get his new phone and install the tracking app again (hope he hasn’t changed his password).]

[Practice cooking, master all his favorite dishes (figure out if his tastes now differ from the future).]

[Spend more time with him, help him move past his parents’ divorce (maybe get a bit closer if possible).]

[Find a chance to confess (TBD…).]

His gaze lingered on “confess” for a long time, his expression growing complex.

But in the end, he closed the notebook, returned it, and left the room.

As if he’d seen nothing, he shut the door behind him.