Promised to meet at the peak.

"Yes."

My friend and I went to the street food stall near the school gate, each with a bowl of noodles and a few bottles of beer. It was dusk, and the setting sun had cast a gentle and blurry light on everything, including the distance between people. So, I spoke directly.

"You went to Nanjing for her, right? Shanghai is so close to Nanjing, why didn't you two hold on a little longer? You've put in so much effort, why did you choose to give up at this critical moment?"

I froze, and my knuckles holding the wine glass turned white. Subconsciously, I reached into my pocket and found a piece of paper.

My friend's face was a bit unclear under the steam rising from the bowl, and everything seemed surreal under the influence of alcohol. I shooed away a fly trying to land on my forehead, gulped down the wine in my glass, and slowly said:

"Perhaps I approached her initially just for the sake of studying."

My throat tightened, as if a difficult-to-express emotion was about to surge out. The air seemed to become heated. As if the light in the dusk had died in an instant, the darkness emerged from the ground. In this half-hazy and half-bright heat, memories gradually took me back to those chaotic days of high school.

"Thank you!"

Back then, I always thought the class representative for chemistry in the neighboring class was a boy, as no girl would be willing to carry such a heavy load of assignments with me. It was only during morning study that I saw the girl struggling to climb the stairs with a pile of chemistry assignments.

Her slender hands held a stack of notebooks, and the heavy exercise books made her fingertips turn slightly red. She faced me but couldn't see me because the assignments had piled up to her forehead.

"Hand in your assignments!" Some reckless male classmates caught up with her, forcefully slapping their own assignments on top of her pile, then laughing and running away. She crouched down, seemingly unable to protest. I couldn't see her expression, only her drunken-like steps and wobbling exercise books.

In that critical moment, I reached out and took half of the assignments from her hands.

Her face revealed itself—a head of naturally fluffy and slightly messy hair. Her fair skin showed a hint of pinkish hue, along with a pair of deeply moving eyes, half-hidden in her hair—hard to describe but undeniably beautiful.

"Thank you!" She stuck out her tongue, revealing a faint smile.

"I'm also the chemistry class representative. What's your name?" I cheerfully carried half of the chemistry assignments for our class and the neighboring class, asking as we walked.

She mentioned a name, a name known to parents and students alike for consistently being in the top ten ranks.

I helped her with the assignments, and she felt indebted to me. She promised to help me with my studies; that's what she said.

Studying with her was joyful, except for that day.

"What do you take me for?"

"Mom, I'm going out to study." I deliberately took a shower and changed my clothes before leaving the house that day. My mother's voice was left hanging in the air, and her suspicion scattered among the leaves falling under the deep blue sky, disappearing from my mind as I walked away.

From afar, I saw a splash of red—the red skirt extending down to her calves. Her brisk steps made the girl across the street seem like a red halo charging towards me.

"I'll take you to a nice place." The girl smiled coquettishly, her lips seemingly about to drip with the redness.

I followed her like a little follower and ended up at a coffee shop that looked like a villa. We passed through a flower-filled courtyard and settled in the innermost room of the villa.

I gently closed the door, watching her lower her head and work on the exercises. Her eyelashes were long and beautiful. I opened my mouth to say something but lacked the courage. I tried again, still unable to speak. In just a few minutes, I felt sweat forming on my forehead. The coffee shop was quiet, and all I could hear was the scratching sound as she wrote with her pencil. It felt like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for me.

My trembling hand touched her hair ends:

"So, what exactly am I to you?"

The girl looked up, continuously clicking her mechanical pencil, then pressing the lead down again. She pursed her lips, about to reveal a smile, but the smile froze at the sound of the door opening.

I weakly called out, "Mom."

"What are you two doing here?" She pointed at the girl like she was a curse.

"We're just classmates who came here to study together." The girl bravely met my mother's angry gaze, speaking confidently, but I could see her hand gripping the mechanical pencil trembling, and the lead broke into pieces.

My mother stared at the girl's name on the notebook cover and said loudly, "Is this a place for studying? I knew he was acting strange today, going out to study as if it were a date. You, with such good grades, why would you..." But I only wanted to escape, so I stood up and rushed out. "Your grades can't match hers. The only thing you'll get influenced by in school or outside is her!" My mother continued to nag behind me, and that sentence felt like a slap, yes, a slap.

Looking at my mother's burning face, my heart was in chaos: If this matter was seen as me pursuing her actively, would her parents hate me if they found out? Would they become stricter with her? Would she become self-destructive or rebellious? Would she fall apart in my hands! ...I felt like I was standing in front of a raging fire, not caring about anything else, just trying to escape the flames! How do I escape? Is there any way?

There was no way, the only way...was to stay away from her! "When a great disaster comes, each goes their separate ways"? No, that would be better than perishing together. I was scared by my own thoughts, could I bear it? Is there really no other way? My thoughts were spinning like wheels, buzzing, tilting, and various thoughts jumped out and flew along tangents! I raised my right hand and slapped my face twice, feeling a slight pain. My mother looked at me in astonishment, seemingly studying a monster.

After the slaps, I became calm, as if I was the one who hit someone, and my mother was the one being hit—although it hurt a little.

"Farewell at the peak."

Since then, whenever I went to school, I felt like everyone was staring at me, as if they were discussing me and her. I avoided my classmates and tried to avoid her to achieve a peaceful life.

I really thought the story ended there, until one evening after running laps at school, I bumped into her carrying her school bag.

The gloomy sky reflected a faint blue hue as the layers of dusk peeled away like cicadas shedding their skins, gradually revealing a bright and solemn cold light. Streetlights lit up one by one, and I stood in front of her, pretending to be cool, tugging at my clothes and wiping the sweat off my face.

She seemed amused by my exaggerated mannerisms, stopping in front of me. A sour and bittersweet feeling surged in my heart. She smiled, and a large tear slid down from her eyes to the tip of her beautiful eyelashes, forming a round droplet that fell irretrievably.

She handed me a piece of paper.

As I held the paper, I met her sparkling eyes head-on—it seemed like there was a glimmer of light in her eyes.

There were only a few words on the paper: "If we can't climb together, let's meet at the peak." — "Someone you don't know the relationship with."

When I came back to my senses, she had already gone far away. I seemed to have completely missed the fact that the alluring orange glow of the sunlight had completely vanished. The sky appeared in a serene light blue hue. Buildings were veiled in a layer of smoke, becoming blurry. Amidst this haze, everything emanated a touch of warmth.

Epilogue:

It was my friend's shake in front of my dazed eyes that brought me back to reality. He tentatively comforted me, saying, "Don't feel bad for her. Didn't you say you were just approaching her because you thought she could help you with your studies? But in the end, she affected you."

"No, it's me who influenced myself," I took a deep breath and leaned back in my chair.

Now, I finally understood that placing emotions on a balance, fearing ridicule from others and hiding for the sake of so-called face, was wrong. What I placed on the balance later wasn't the innocent and naive feelings of my student days but the straw that broke the camel's back.

It's not just me; everyone's emotional experiences surely hold sweet and painful memories. Regardless of the final outcome, remembering the beauty of it all and not denying it is the greatest respect for those feelings.