My girlfriend was reborn.

Chapter 77 I'll Never Forget Tonight
A sharp buzzing sound filled Zhou Heming's eardrums.

He knew his heart was pounding, and he was experiencing unprecedented tension, hesitation, panic, and even a touch of fear that was pulling at his eighteen-year-old heart, making it impossible for it to calm down.

Only the touch of the girl's warm, soft, yet slightly rough hands made Zhou Heming realize that he was real.

"What, what?"

With a trembling voice, Zhou Heming asked.

"I haven't charged it yet today."

In the dimly lit room, he couldn't see what expression the girl had on her face when she said those words.

All he knew was that the slightly weak and powerless right hand gently squeezed his palm.

"Did you hug after the interview?"

Zhou Heming blurted it out, but soon felt a little regretful.

What are you saying? You really know how to bring up a sore subject!
"That's a reward."

With the other person barely visible, the soft, sweet voice was even more captivating. Zhou Heming felt a heat rising in his chest, and the thumping sound was deafening.

"so."

The blanket made a rustling sound.

The next instant, Zhou Heming felt a warm and soft body snuggle into his reclining arms.

He looked down and his eyes met those of the girl who had looked up.

They were somewhat relieved that the lights were off, as neither of them could see the other's embarrassed expression—their cheeks were already flushed, and even their arms were blushing.

All they could see were each other's eyes.

And, myself reflected in my eyes.

The scent of hotel shampoo wafted over, mixed with the faint milky fragrance of the girl's pajamas. Zhou Heming swallowed, the throbbing in his chest crashing against his reason like a tide, causing the young man to subconsciously move closer.

Her eyelashes trembled slightly, and the girl closed her eyes.

Then, she felt a faint warmth touch her forehead.

"I, um, I will keep my promise."

Zhou Heming said softly.

He secretly felt that this was perhaps the closest the two of them had been in a long time.

If he were to ask the girl in his arms for anything now, she might not refuse, and might even be willing to give him everything she has.

Zhou Heming knew that love at eighteen was like a midsummer night's wasteland, which only needed a spark to start a prairie fire. The boy longed to possess, to occupy, and to have a definite answer.

But he wanted to cherish, protect, and safeguard the girl in his arms for the rest of her life.

Since she had made a promise to him, Zhou Heming was willing to believe her and believe that they had not only the present but also the future.

An eighteen-year-old boy has many ways to express his love: a hug, a passionate kiss, or a beautiful and long night.

Or perhaps, a restrained yet enduring embrace as they fall asleep.

So he gently raised his hands and embraced the girl.

Their knees touched, their feet brushed together and then withdrew, their hands resting casually on each other's bodies, not even knowing where they touched. The girl buried her head in his chest, listening to the beating of his heart.

"Ah He, you're so cunning."

A voice, like the soft murmur of a nightingale, flowed out.

"In that case, I will never forget tonight for the rest of my life."

"why?"

"Because, in that instant just now, I clearly felt how much Ahe loves me."

She sniffed, her voice choked with emotion.

"Why are you crying?"

Sensing the change in the girl's emotions, Zhou Heming pulled away slightly and looked down at her, but Cheng Shuangjiang simply buried her face in his chest, unwilling to let him see her tearful appearance.

Seeing this, Zhou Heming didn't ask any more questions, but simply hugged her tighter and gently patted her back.

It's like when you were a child and your mother comforted you after you broke a glass.

"How about I just tell you something from my childhood?"

Zhou Heming heard what sounded like a train in the distance again, and he said softly.

The girl nodded slightly, nodding her head.

“When I was in elementary school, during summer vacation, my parents would often go on business trips, so they would leave me with my maternal grandparents in Sichuan. They were employees of an old machine tool factory, and there was a railway crossing right across the street from their staff dormitory.”

As he recounted the story, Zhou Heming felt himself calm down, as if he could smell the scent of midsummer, followed by the chirping of cicadas, the railway blurred by the scorching sun, and the old man holding his hand.

"Back then, the railway wasn't closed off yet. Whenever a train passed by, it would make a ding-dong sound and lower the railing, just like, well, just like in '5 Centimeters Per Second'."

He could feel Cheng Shuangjiang wrapping her arms around his waist like she was holding a doll. Zhou Heming gently stroked her hair with the tip of his nose before speaking.

"I really enjoy watching from the window, so for me, the sound of a train passing by represents those carefree days of my childhood."

"When I was little, I would sit by the square and watch my grandfather and the others play musical instruments."

Just after Zhou Heming finished speaking, Cheng Shuangjiang spoke in a somewhat hoarse voice.

“I used the ping-pong table as a desk, doing my homework while watching them play the saxophone and oboe, and the accordion, playing some exciting or melancholic tunes. Those old people all came from different places, and sometimes when they got impatient, they would speak their own hometown dialects, and no one could understand anyone else.”

"But the music they played back then was really beautiful. I think it's because those pieces were not just music to them, but also a part of their past lives."

“When they get tired of playing, they chat and tell me how they traveled for more than ten days from their hometown to come here when they were young, and how hard it was for them. But they never said they regretted it. They only felt that it was an honor to be here.”

“I remember an old lady saying that her husband used to ask her to teach him about newspapers, but after they got married, he never taught her again. By then, her husband must have been gone for many years.”

On a night when the stars were nowhere to be seen, the two chatted softly about their childhood, about past memories, about things they liked and disliked, about studying and exams, and about the future. Before they knew it, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Just before falling into a deep sleep, Zhou Heming was enveloped by a feeling of fulfillment, warmth, and peace of mind.

In his hazy consciousness, he knew clearly that the scales of their love were almost completely balanced.

*
The next day.

Department of Liberal Arts, Ningjiang University.

Yan Ling, a master's student in film studies, is helping her advisor grade the papers from the orientation exam two days ago.

Those of them who are pursuing graduate studies often have to do this and that for their supervisors. It's not so bad in the School of Humanities, but Yan Ling heard some of her engineering friends complain that they are practically free oxen and horses, even more so than ordinary workers.

Grading the written test papers on Saturday afternoon was quite troublesome. They were all subjective questions, and since these high school students hadn't systematically studied the relevant subjects, it was quite normal for their answers to be disjointed and incoherent.

"This is a lot of rambling, but not a single useful sentence is worth mentioning."

"That hits the nail on the head; he has potential."

"This answer is very good; it seems like the person came prepared."

She was responsible for grading the film analyses, while the assignment writing was handed over to another senior student who was pursuing a doctorate and applying for a teaching assistant position.

After making some changes, the door to the teaching and research office was pushed open, and Duan Shiqing, a doctoral student with slightly thinning hair and wearing thick glasses, walked in carrying a bowl of duck blood vermicelli.

Good morning, senior brother.

Yan Ling had just finished revising a batch of papers and was about to relax her eyes when she greeted everyone and got up to pour hot water and make coffee.

"morning."

Duan Shiqing unpacked the duck blood vermicelli and stirred it with chopsticks.

Yan Ling leaned against the table, warming her hands with a coffee cup, and glanced at her senior brother.

"That shop at the street corner again?"

"Yes, that's the best. I've been eating there since I was an undergraduate. I even saw a young couple eating there when I bought some this morning."

Duan Shiqing said casually.

Yan Ling returned to her seat, took a sip of coffee, and casually browsed her phone.

"Huh, even at this hour, there are still melons on the confession wall."

Every university has a public social media platform similar to a confession wall, which is most popular in September and October. It's filled with confessions from young people experiencing the first stirrings of love, mixed with some disputes and gossip, just like reading those online dating public accounts.

"how?"

Duan Shiqing sweated a little after eating.

"I send it to you."

Yan Ling knew that Duan Shiqing didn't follow that account, so she forwarded it to his WeChat.

Duan Shiqing looked at it and saw that it was a photo of a girl.

This was clearly a candid shot; the girl and another boy were standing under a sycamore tree on campus, seemingly being photographed by someone else.

Despite the circumstances, the girl's beauty was still breathtaking. The messages on the confession wall were simply requests for her name and contact information, which, being so direct, sparked a heated debate in the comments section.

Even Duan Shiqing couldn't take his eyes off the girl; she was so beautiful, and had a gentle, mature air about her, just like the classical beauties in the movies he was researching.

And, for some reason, he felt like he recognized him.
"Hiss, isn't that the young couple I met at the duck blood vermicelli shop this morning? Are they freshmen?"

Duan Shiqing slapped his thigh.

"Impossible. If there were really such a pretty girl in freshman year, it would have been all over the place two months ago."

Yan Ling scrolled through the comments section, but naturally no one provided contact information or names, and besides, everyone there already had boyfriends.

The guy next to her in the photo, while not exactly a handsome man, somehow looked like a perfect match for the girl, as if they were lovers in a past life.

"Isn't the person taking pictures next to you Yilin from our department? Why don't you ask her?"

Duan Shiqing quickly recognized the school magazine reporter who had interviewed him before. Perhaps because he had seen the two of them that morning, he became curious as well.

Because Yilin also wanted to apply for graduate school here, she often came to join in the fun, and over time, she added the WeChat of the people in the teaching and research office.

"Yes."

Yan Ling sent a WeChat message to Yi Lin, but received no reply immediately, so she went back to continue grading papers.

Yilin didn't reply until Duan Shiqing had been grading the papers for a while.

"They're actually high school students here for a targeted exam. A high school couple, a handsome man and a beautiful woman, it's kind of sweet."

She usually enjoys reading romance novels set in youth and school. It's fair to say that serious film and drama studies are her academic pursuits, while reading sweet romance novels is her life.

It has to be said, Yan Ling is a fan.

"I just don't know if I can get in. Most high school romances end when we get accepted into different schools. Sigh."

Duan Shiqing's eyes never left the computer screen. Having just finished revising one assigned essay, he mercilessly clicked on the next one.

"Yes, the funeral home."

As he looked at it, his expression suddenly became serious.

*
Turn the hands of time.

early morning.

Before dawn, Zhou Heming opened his eyes.

The room was shrouded in an ambiguous and hazy atmosphere, making it difficult to see clearly. It felt like stepping back in time, as if one were still in a dream.

Upon smelling a faint, pleasant, creamy scent, Zhou Heming realized that Cheng Shuangjiang was sleeping beside him.

The two must have changed sleeping positions several times during the night, definitely not the same as when he was almost asleep.

Now Zhou Heming is lying down, and the girl is holding his arm and leaning on his shoulder.

Not daring to move for fear of waking her, Zhou Heming slowly reached for his phone on the bedside table and glanced at it.

5:17.

With a while to go before his 7 a.m. alarm, Zhou Heming prepared to close his eyes and take a nap.

But beside her, the girl's head twitched slightly, and she let out a muffled groan.

Turning my head, I saw that she was just opening her sleepy eyes, her vision not yet focused.

"It's still early, let's sleep a little longer."

Zhou Heming gently stroked the stray hairs on her forehead, finding her exceptionally adorable at that moment.

"Want to drink water."

A soft, sweet voice, as gentle as a velvet cake, rang out.

Unlike the bright and gentle girl she usually is, Cheng Shuangjiang now seems to be acting childishly and coquettishly, which Zhou Heming finds very strange.

"wait."

Zhou Heming stood up slightly, picked up the bottled water provided by the hotel from the table, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to the girl.

Cheng Shuangjiang sat up lazily, took a sip of water, rubbed her eyes, and then handed the water bottle back to him.

"Ah He, you should have some too."

The tone was as if he might fall asleep at any moment.

"it is good."

Zhou Heming glanced at the bottle opening and took a small sip as well.

Do bottled water taste sweet these days?

He put her aside and lay back down on the overly soft hotel bed. Because of the indentation caused by her weight, the girl snuggled into his arms, hugging him like a sleepy kitten, even putting her legs up on his body before closing her eyes in peace.

As drowsiness crept in, Zhou Heming slowly squinted his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, he felt that there was no one beside him.

After a moment of panic, he saw Cheng Shuangjiang sitting at the table combing her hair.

"What time is it?"

"It's almost 7 o'clock, Ah He, your biological clock is pretty accurate!"

At this moment, Cheng Shuangjiang has returned to the carefree and capable reborn girl.

How long have you been awake?

As Zhou Heming got out of bed, he turned off his phone alarm in advance.

"It won't be long. Girls always need some time to get ready."

She tied her long hair into a neat ponytail with a light blue ribbon, turned her head, and smiled gently at Zhou Heming.

"Go wash up, I'm all ready."

Zhou Heming responded and quickly finished tidying up.

The two went downstairs, and the receptionist had been replaced by a young man who efficiently checked them out.

The back street of Ningjiang University in the early morning has a completely different look from that at night. Vendors carry their own vegetables and fruits on shoulder poles, while elderly people living nearby push shopping carts or carry bags from hospitals, walking through the bustling morning market. If this place belongs to the young people at night, then it belongs to these elderly people in the morning.

Zhou Heming and Cheng Shuangjiang walked into a duck blood vermicelli shop at the street corner.

The wooden tables and chairs in this shop have developed a patina, and the customers are mostly elderly people from the neighborhood, which is enough to prove the taste of the food.

"Two bowls of duck blood vermicelli soup and one serving of soup dumplings."

Zhou Heming paid the bill and found a small table to sit down.

Across from them was an old man eating soup dumplings with garlic he had bought. He dipped the dumplings in vinegar, taking a bite of dumpling and a bite of garlic, thoroughly enjoying his meal.

Looking around, Zhou Heming's intuition told him that Ningjiang's soup dumplings were probably not eaten this way.

Their breakfast was served quickly. It looked simple, but once they tasted it, they found that the flavor was much richer than it appeared.

Following the example of the table next to him, he poured some vinegar, and upon tasting it again, the flavor was different.

"The vinegar here is all from Jiangzhen."

Cheng Shuangjiang looked at the vinegar bottle on the table with interest.

"Of course, young lady, let me tell you, the vinegar from our Jiangzhen is absolutely authentic."

Upon hearing this, the old man at the same table explained to the two of them in Mandarin with a distinct northern accent, so enthusiastically that he almost broke off a few cloves of garlic from his hand and gave them to them.

At this moment, a young man with slightly thinning hair and thick glasses carried a bowl of takeout duck blood vermicelli, picked up the vinegar on their table, poured some in, and scooped out a spoonful of chili.

Before leaving, I couldn't help but glance a few more times at Cheng Shuangjiang, who stood out too much among the group of elderly people.

Zhou Heming strongly suspected that if the two of them enrolled as promised next September, Cheng Shuangjiang's name would definitely occupy the confession wall of Ningjiang University for a long time.

but.

So what?

After last night, Zhou Heming felt that his relationship with Cheng Shuangjiang seemed to have undergone some subtle changes.

He could clearly feel that, although he hadn't done anything, he had already grasped something more important in his hands.

That was a young girl's true heart, something worth protecting for a lifetime.

Sitting on the high-speed train, Zhou Heming watched the Ningjiang South Station gradually disappear into the distance. The youthful spirit that belonged to him surged into his heart at this moment, turning into tangible words.

"We must come back and go to Ningjiang University together to register."

"Yes, we have an appointment."

The girl smiled and extended her little finger to make a pinky promise with the boy.

It must not change for a hundred years.

*
Thank you everyone for your subscriptions, monthly tickets, and recommendation votes!
(End of this chapter)