The teacher's aphrodisiac tarnished my youth.

1. At midnight, You Ran and I helped each other out of a bar. We declined the offer from the big boss to drive us
home in his Mercedes, saying it would be more convenient to call a taxi ourselves. You Ran clutched her handbag tightly, inside which was a contract for an order—the result of our hard work that day
.

Yay! We high-fived in celebration. This one order was enough for two women like us, who didn't have many extravagant desires in life, to live on for a year. Working women without men in their lives, and who didn't want
to rely on men for life, always had a sense of saving for a rainy day. Men, in our eyes, had become something dispensable
.

Having them was a bonus, not having them was insignificant.

Aside from dealing with all sorts of men at work, I didn't want to see any men in my daily life. I didn't trust them, and
I felt insecure.

Although people always saw me smiling and charmingly entering and leaving glamorous places, that was just my job, just an act.

Back home, I took off my expensive coat, revealing a black cashmere dress. Black boots, a black dress—this was my
armor on the battlefield.

I wore it to the bathroom to remove my makeup. Without powder, the woman in the mirror was pale and empty. I tried to smile at myself and noticed two crow's
feet.

Aging hadn't spared me. Even though I tried so hard to hide it, I knew that my appearance, like my heart, would eventually
transform from vibrant and radiant to wrinkled and scarred.

2

In my memory, it was a long, long time ago, when I was also a pure and innocent girl. Back then, I loved to draw. I liked to wear jeans and a white shirt,
carrying my sketchbook as I walked around campus.

I was an early bloomer; at 18, I was the tallest girl in school. Whenever I walked through campus with my long hair down,
countless eyes would stare at me. I knew I was beautiful.

In our small city back then, getting into art school required not only good drawing skills but also a lot of money and connections.

My parents were just ordinary workers, not very wealthy. But I knew my art teacher was someone important; rumors said he was
reassigned to teach in his hometown because of a student movement, otherwise he would have been incredibly successful long ago. At that time, my teacher was still young, with a thin face and clean fingers. He was already married
to the daughter of a school leader.

But I still wanted to get close to him, firstly to learn some of his painting techniques, and secondly to get closer to him and try to get some
information from him about applying to art school.

So, when my teacher invited me to his house for dinner that day, I happily agreed. I didn't tell anyone, because I felt it was a special honor for me.

I went to my teacher's house carrying a large bunch of bananas, wearing a white dress, barefoot in sneakers, and smelling fresh from a shower. My teacher

led me into the room, and I found that his wife wasn't home. There were candles on the table, a few small dishes, and two glasses of red wine. My teacher

said awkwardly that his wife had gone to her parents' house, and he felt a little lonely without anyone at home. I sat down and ate with my teacher. I went to the bathroom once during the meal.

Before I knew it, I was drunk. Actually, not drunk, but rather hot all over, my heart pounding, and I kept wanting to take off my clothes. I can't describe the feeling.
The teacher came over and helped me take off my clothes, then carried me to bed.

It's a pretty cliché story, but the ending isn't so simple.

When I came to my senses and saw a snow-white towel on the sheets, bloodstains on the towel, and the man still sleeping beside me,
I resolutely grabbed the phone and called the police.

In other words, I've never been the kind of person without opinions. I know what I want and what I don't want, and when things happen, I can handle them calmly
, even though the outcome wasn't what I expected.

The police arrived quickly and notified the school leaders and my parents. While the man was still dreaming, I had already opened his front door.

I thought I could distance myself from this, I thought I would still be the same as before, arrogantly walking through the campus, ignoring everyone.

The

police found a substance similar to an aphrodisiac in the red wine we drank, and the teacher was prosecuted by the authorities for seducing a girl. The truth has come to light.

可是学校里的风言风语传得越来越厉害。

有人说，我是为了考美术学院的名额而去找老师主动献身的，有人说我本来就是个风骚的女人……

事情发生一个月，整个小城市里的人都知道了我的故事，而且风传得绘声绘色，增加了无数想象的细节。这是
我始料未及的，好在爸爸妈妈是通情达理的人，他们没有怪我，而是在一片议论声中，把我送到了郑州，我姑姑在
这里工作。

我转了学，放弃了学画画，也放弃了我的巴黎之梦。那次事情对我的打击就是，我变成了个沉默寡言的女生，
不爱说话，也不爱和人交流。我每天用功学习，一个人上学放学。开始来郑州的时候我的成绩并不好，可是半年以
后的高考，却因为老天的眷顾，意外地考上了一所大学。

拿到通知书那天，我摇电话回家给爸妈：「爸爸，妈妈，你们的女儿很争气，考上大学了。」眼泪很自然地流
下来，新的生活对我来说真的是开始了。

4

大学里，我似乎比以前活泼开朗了。加之我是个长相不错、个子很高的女生，很快，我就收到了好多情书。有
高年级学长的，也有同级外系的同学的。

我一概很礼貌地拒绝。我觉得，我们的大学应该是以学习为主，不应该过早地谈恋爱，再说我还有着过去的心
结。

就这样，我努力学习，每年拿奖学金地过了三年。大学第四年，我遇见了一个我真正喜欢的男生。是在一次化
学竞赛上，我们都拿到了名次。

学校出钱请我们这些为学校争得荣誉的人聚会，他恰好坐在我身边。他是个很英俊的男生，难得的是他还很聪
明，学习那么好。他穿着干净低调的白衬衣蓝裤子，他很小心地拿公筷给我添菜，笑起来的时候很腼腆，很阳光。

有同学和老师和我们开玩笑，说我们俩是金童玉女。他低头飞快地看了我一眼，在吃完饭分手的时候，他要了
我的电话号码，我随手在桌子上拿了一张纸巾，把我的号码写在纸巾上。而他把电话号码写在我的手心里。

在回学校的路上，我紧紧地攥着手，觉得自己是找到了命定的爱情。

可是回到宿舍，却发现手心早被汗水浸湿，电话号码模糊得不能辨认了。我只记得这个男生叫许明朗，别的一
无所知。

经历了3 天的懊悔，明朗终于打电话过来，约我在学校门口见面。那时候，我的心微微地颤动着，像是一朵盛
开的莲花。

和明朗在一起的日子真的很快乐。大学毕业，我们两个因为成绩出色，一起留了校。

因为之前事情的阴影，我从来没有敢跟明朗提起过我的过去，因为我在学校一直是很高傲、冰清玉洁的女生，
我怕明朗接受不了，想着能瞒住一天是一天吧。

每当明朗有要求的时候，我总是告诉他，要把最美好的东西留到新婚之夜，明朗很尊重我。

虽然每次看到他忍得很难受的时候，我都会心怀愧疚，但我实在是不知道该如何开口……

就这样，拖了一天又一天，我和他都去见了双方父母，我们定了婚期。那时候，是我一生中最快乐的时光，从
那以后，我就

再也没有快乐过。

我觉得我虽然已经不是处女了，但是我的心还是很纯洁的，我不觉得我对不起明朗。

5

错就错在，我不该在成为明朗的未婚妻以后，总是陪着他出入各种同学聚会的场合。那是一次，我和明朗一起
去参加一个同学的婚礼。

我们被安排在一张桌子上，明朗又微笑着为我夹菜。我抬起头来，恰好看见一个高中同学错愕的眼睛。是的，
那眼神我很熟悉，在很早很早以前，我曾经受过那样眼神的洗礼。我又低下头去，可是心里面开始忐忑不安了。

明朗介绍说：「这是我的未婚妻，这位是我同学的老婆。」我没有与那个同学相认，但我心里很清楚，这是定

A time bomb.

Although we have many ancient sayings like "Everyone sweeps the snow from their own doorstep, and doesn't care about the frost on their neighbor's roof," some people just can't stand seeing others do well—it's
human nature.

My heart was always uneasy. Until one night, in the middle of the night, Minglang called me. I heard his panting on the phone, as if
he had made a huge decision.

I had a gut feeling that he already knew about my situation. Sure enough, after a long silence on the phone, he asked, "People say that what happened to you in high school
, is that true?"

I remained silent. Why ask such a pointless question? He probably already knew in his heart. When I didn't answer, Minglang said again, "If you don't answer, it seems what they
said is true. Why did you lie to me!" I heard Minglang's roar and hung up the phone.

I didn't know how to explain. These kinds of things always get worse the more you explain them. If he were a man who could understand me, he wouldn't touch my
wounds. If he resented me, he probably thought the same way as those people in small towns.

I didn't give Minglang any explanation. The next day, while Minglang was at work, I went to his place to pack all my things. Before leaving, I gently
placed the keys on the table.

Deep down, I still had some hope. I thought that if he truly loved me, he would come back to me. He would hand me the keys, hug
me, and say, "Those are all things of the past, I don't care." But no. I only received a text message from Minglang: "Since you've made your decision, then we have to break up." When I received that message, I knew that my only relationship in my life had ended. Yes, it was over.

This man didn't listen to my explanation, nor did he give me any chance to turn back. Although we worked at the same school, we wouldn't see each other unless we deliberately tried. Even if we saw each other from afar, we could just turn around and go down another alley. I never saw Minglang again. A month later, I heard through the grapevine that Minglang was getting married. It happened so quickly, on the wedding date we had set, only the bride had changed. On Minglang's wedding day, I submitted my resignation to the school. Because the whole school had started gossiping about my high school days, those stories that had already calmed down became even more unbearable due to people's spreading of rumors. I don't know who started these rumors, but I still couldn't bear it. So, I quit my job. I thought I could start a new life, but those stories, those rumors, those past events were like an inescapable tail, following me like a shadow. Many things I thought I had forgotten, I only then truly realized they had never been forgotten; they were just suppressed deep in my heart. Like a boil , seemingly healed on the surface, but the slightest touch would cause the pus to flow out. My past finally disgusted even myself. Without love, having lots and lots of money is good too. Like in Yi Shu's *Xi Bao* , "I want lots and lots of love; if there's no love, lots and lots of money is good too; if there's no money, at least I still have health." But for me, it's simplified to, I only want money. Because love is no longer for me. The last job I found was as a public relations manager, because I'm beautiful enough and young enough. I no longer believe in love. I won't recount my stories, true or false, like those women in nightclubs. I'll just remain silent. People say I have beautiful, melancholic eyes. Yes, I am beautiful, but I'm just lonely. Liu Ruoying sings: "Lonely people know/ Loneliness isn't something to pass the time/ In a silent room/ Dim light, cigarette butts in the corner/ Lonely people know best/ Boredom isn't something to pass the time… For so long/ Friends don't approach, I dare not confide/ I can only look at myself in the dead of night/ Even shedding tears in the dead of night is pointless …" Life goes on, and I don't know where my path lies…

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The teacher's aphrodisiac tarnished my youth.

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