Our 7th Anniversary

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Fate is an inexplicable concept. Seven years ago, I had just returned from the United States, feeling utterly frustrated and unsuccessful in my studies. I packed my backpack, hung up the phone, and abandoned all familiar people and things, wandering into the water towns of Jiangnan. It was an ancient city. By the canal, the afternoon sun lazily drifted in the air. I settled into an unfamiliar coffee shop, idly picking up Lung Ying-tai's *Wild Fire Collection*. Lost

in reading, a woman in white sat down opposite me. Slender, with flowing hair, I don't remember the exact scene, but the one thing etched in my memory is Sister Jing's innocent eyes. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and those clear eyes from that afternoon are unforgettable.

The coffee shop had many books for customers to browse. Little did I know, Sister Jing had already bought *Wild Fire Collection*, read it that morning, and left it behind. After some explanation, I returned the book to her.
After that, I continued my journey of self-discovery. The city had an ancient town with two streets. One was entirely dedicated to traditional Chinese medicine, and the other to restaurants.

That evening, I saw a shop with a long line of waiting customers. Out of curiosity, I took a ticket and waited too. After the waiter guided me to a seat, the woman in white sat opposite me, alone, reading a book called "Wildfire Collection." Waiting for my food was tedious, so I sat down and started chatting casually. She remembered me, a stranger.

Sister Jing worked at the town's hospital. Her family had a medical tradition; both her parents were renowned traditional Chinese medicine practitioners, and she had inherited their skills. She had a fiancé who owned several factories in the town. After getting to know each other, we exchanged contact information.

We kept in touch intermittently after returning from Jiangnan. She was a woman who loved to travel and yearned for freedom. Her husband loved her very much, but the more he loved, the deeper the hurt. She lost her freedom, her wings, much like the story of "Don't Talk to Strangers" from many years ago, which Sister Jing told me was exactly like that.

The first time we talked about sex, she didn't speak. I talked for a long time, thinking she was gone, and asked her questions. She would either reply with "Oh" or "I don't know," after several years of being together. We talked until three or four in the morning, and we even video chatted. But we never crossed any lines. Every time we video chatted, I saw her clear, watery eyes. I let go of everything.

Later, she had a child, a new burden. She could only suppress herself with the tedium of life. After several years of dating, that spring, her husband took the child home, and she came to my hometown with her parents for a trip. There was a tacit understanding, a suppressed emotion, and under that suppression, the tacit understanding led to an explosion. Just as I told her, life is about coming into this world naked and leaving naked, taking nothing with you. Just be happy, experience everything, try everything. She used visiting an old classmate as an excuse, and we stayed in a hotel for three whole days. I can't remember how many times we did it, but every time I lay down and looked at her delicate face, I couldn't resist. In bed, she was shy, knew nothing, and couldn't do anything, but she was willing to do anything.

From then on, every spring she would come to visit her old classmate, and every summer I would go to that small town to see a traditional Chinese medicine doctor.

Life is short, meeting is fate. Don't be afraid of not meeting fate. I fear I wasn't prepared when fate brought us together.

Seven years have passed, we've walked this path together, sharing everything, with no distance between us, able to speak frankly about anything. I had a romantic encounter while I was away, and when I told her, she widened her eyes and asked what I would do if I contracted a disease, whether I had taken precautions. She seriously told me that if I did get sick, she would prescribe medicine for me. Perhaps we only give eight parts to our families and parents, but we give ten parts to each other. We cherish and protect this relationship. With her in my life, I have no regrets.

[The End]

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