“Please, Mr. Li, have a seat.” A young woman in a white coat smiled politely. Her short hair was neatly combed back, her movements clean and precise as she gestured toward the chair already pulled out.
I took a deep breath, forced a smile, murmured my thanks, and sat down.
It was a bright, airy room, the windows spotless, and the glow of the incandescent lights soft and non-irritating. In front of me was a solid wooden square table, with a bookshelf on it holding numerous psychology books. Against the wall stood another bookshelf in the same tone, crammed with psychology-related texts.
“What would you like to drink?” the woman asked softly, her voice soothing, giving an unspoken sense of reliability.
“Just water,” I replied.
A paper cup was placed before me. I instinctively wrapped my hands around it, feeling the warmth seep through my body.
“Relax,” she said with a smile, pulling out the chair opposite me and sitting down. “Don’t be nervous. Think of me as a friend. Tell me about the difficulties you’re facing.”
I looked up into her gentle, comforting eyes and nodded.
Coming to this psychological consultation room had taken a lot of courage. My dreams had been tormenting me night after night, tangled thoughts swirling like drowning waves—I needed someone to confide in, but there was no one around.
The lecture that day had already been ending when I returned, but the professor’s final words had struck me:
“No matter where life takes you, always remember to seek help for physical or mental problems promptly. Especially psychological issues—don’t ignore them.”
And so I found myself here.
I sat in silence for a long time, unsure how to begin. She didn’t rush me, patiently waiting.
“Dr. Chen, have you ever kept dreaming about the same person?” I hesitated, testing the waters.
Chen Ci leaned slightly forward, her posture attentive. “What kind of person? You can start by describing their appearance.”
I clutched the water cup, recalling the images. “He… is very handsome. There’s a red mole near his eye that appears and disappears when he blinks…”
“Handsome… Is he a young girl?”
“No,” I answered immediately. “He’s a boy.”
Chen Ci raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly, her right ear angled toward me.
Her posture gave me a small surge of courage, and I said, “He… he likes me a lot. You’re not biased against homosexuality, are you?”
“Of course not. On the contrary, I believe love has no gender,” Chen Ci said with an unwavering smile. “What about you?”
“I agree with that… but I, I…” I faltered, words stumbling.
Chen Ci raised her hand and nodded repeatedly. “I understand. So, what do you dream about him?”
“Everything… even our last meeting,” I said, leaving out the details. “It ended badly.”
“Why?”
“He made mistakes, hurt a lot of people… maybe there were some unavoidable reasons too.” At that moment, I found myself making excuses for him. I couldn’t help thinking of Qiu Lu and Xu Zirong, a dull ache in my chest. “I barely escaped, yet I can’t stop thinking about him. Especially in my dreams, he always comes.”
“Mr. Li, take a sip of water to calm yourself,” Chen Ci said. “It’s clear he had a deep impact on you. But from our conversation and my observations, I don’t think you have a psychological disorder.”
I lifted my head and looked at her steadily.
She continued, “Your thoughts are clear, your expression coherent, and you have a strong awareness of your emotions. Everyone experiences emotional ups and downs; it’s normal. Of course, more than sleeping pills, what you need is someone to listen. I suspect your current life lacks such a person.”
I nodded. She really was insightful.
“May I be so bold? Consider this: what are your feelings toward this boy? This is the question you’ve been avoiding.”
I lowered my eyes. “I… I’m not sure yet.”
“First, people can be right or wrong, but emotions have no right or wrong. Mr. Li, you must first learn to accept yourself,” Chen Ci said calmly. “When you have a clear answer to this question, and if you feel the need, you can come back to consult me again.”
She didn’t solve my problem, yet stepping out of her office, the invisible weight pressing on my chest seemed much lighter.
She was right—I really did need someone to listen.
Since it was still early, I didn’t return home but packed my bag and headed back to the school, settling into a study room.
While reading, I happened to glance up and saw a slender figure standing by a nearby bookshelf. Her hair had a thin silver ribbon braided into it. I couldn’t help sneaking a second glance.
The person lifted her head slightly. I quickly turned my gaze back to my book. But soon, a shadow appeared at the table opposite me. I looked up—Zhao Rugu, the same girl from earlier at the bookshelf.
Her eyes curved mischievously, hands cupping her chin. “Senior Li, I caught you looking at me just now!”
I was embarrassed, unsure how to respond.
Zhao Rugu continued, “I knew being a student assistant was worth it. In the library before, I sat across from you, and you didn’t even glance my way. I’ve been your direct junior for three years, yet you didn’t know me.”
“Before?” I realized I had never paid attention to who sat across from me.
“Exactly. Everyone said you spent most of your time in the library, so I had to think of this way to meet you,” Zhao Rugu said candidly.
Fortunately, the study room was sparsely populated, only a few students sitting at distant tables.
Her eyes sparkled, full of anticipation, clearly not finished speaking.
“Well, actually, I—”
Worried about disturbing others, I quickly gestured toward the door, indicating she could speak outside.
Zhao Rugu gladly stood and walked toward the door.
I understood her intention immediately. That eager, expectant look—I had seen it in many people before. But back then, I had never thought it signified affection.
Even now, I still didn’t think her feelings were love. Because I had already seen what eyes full of love truly looked like.
We found a deserted terrace.
Zhao Rugu didn’t shy away in the slightest. She lifted her eyes to me and said, “Senior, I really like you. If it weren’t for the lecture that day, I wouldn’t have even become a student assistant. Why don’t we give it a try? Let’s cherish our last year and have a campus romance.”
She was slightly shorter than me, barely reaching the tip of my nose. I lowered my eyes. “Then… what is it that you like about me?”
Zhao Rugu froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard, letting out a meaningless, “Huh?”
“I said, what do you like about me?”
“You’re exactly my type,” she said after a moment of thought, adding two more points with effort, “You write well and have won scholarships for three consecutive years.”
As she spoke, my gaze couldn’t help falling again on her hair.
Zhao Rugu seemed to notice and lightly tugged at the delicate ribbon braided in her hair.
“That’s all?” I asked. “What if you meet someone with an even more ideal appearance later?”
She pouted. “Ah, Senior, don’t be so conservative. Dating now is about chemistry—why treat it like a job interview?”
Suddenly, I felt a wave of emptiness, a sense of disappointment creeping in.
“Besides, you’ve been staring at me too. Don’t think I didn’t notice. That day at the lecture, you were staring at me in a daze.”
“I wasn’t…” I started to explain but stopped abruptly.
A flash of realization struck me. Looking at the silver ribbon dancing in her hair, I finally understood something.
I had always found her vaguely familiar. Perhaps Zhao Rugu was right—I had unconsciously looked at her many times.
But it wasn’t really her I was seeing. I had been subconsciously staring at something reminiscent of Shen Jianqing—the silver ornament he always wore in his hair.