As Jesse Hunter’s reputation soared, Michael grew more and more confused. She didn’t know what Jesse Hunter was really after. All she wanted was to live a healthy and happy life; her father didn’t expect her to be successful, and she herself had no grand ambitions.

Yet it was clear that Jesse Hunter had some small aspirations, but every move he made was especially hard to understand.

Before Michael could figure it out, Jesse Hunter disappeared.

Skipping class was nothing new for him, but he had never skipped so many days in a row. Michael went to ask the teacher, and the answer she got was that Jesse Hunter had transferred schools again.

His arrival and departure were equally without warning.

Many people said that Jesse Hunter’s biological parents had come to pick him up, that they were especially wealthy, and had come in a beautiful black car to take him away. Jesse Hunter had finally gotten lucky...

Fatty patted Michael on the shoulder and said cautiously, “Class monitor, this is what Jesse Hunter asked me to give you before he left...

Don’t hit me, okay? I didn’t know he was transferring either, he never told me...”

Michael forgot to hit him, snatched it away, and sat down on the steps to slowly open the bulging envelope.

Jesse Hunter had watched too many Hong Kong movies in the video hall, and wanted everything to be a bit cooler, including saying goodbye.

A narrow little slip of paper, neat handwriting.

My dad died. He can’t hit me anymore. When he died, I realized he was actually pretty good to me, it’s just that he went crazy when he drank, probably because life was too hard for him. I don’t want to leave here, I feel especially happy here, but my biological parents came to take me away. I don’t know what will happen in the future, I feel like the two of them are nothing like me, it’s uncomfortable, but there’s nothing I can do.

We’re good buddies, the best buddies. But I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again.

You should study hard, stop getting into fights. Actually, Fatty and the others are letting you win—how could a bunch of boys not be able to beat a single girl?

Wishing you progress in your studies and good health!

Michael read the letter over and over, her heart feeling empty and bottomless. She didn’t know why her eyes stung, and she let the tears fall, soaking the letter.

Deep inside the envelope was something hard. She reached in and pulled it out—it was a light blue butterfly hair clip, with a small note attached.

“Do you want to grow your hair long? Girls look better with long hair. Actually, I wanted to buy a gorilla hair clip, but I couldn’t find one anywhere. I still think you’d look better with a gorilla one.”

As Michael was telling this story, her father suddenly walked in and told her it was time for her checkup.

Then he turned around, a little shy, and said, “Michael’s classmate, right? You come to keep her company so often, it must be affecting your studies?

As her father, I don’t have much to say, just very grateful to you.”

The rough-voiced, gruff foreman father had long since made his fortune, and was jokingly called “the nouveau riche Old Mi” by his daughter. Zoe Young looked at the haggard, thin, polite man in front of her, and couldn’t connect him at all with the loud, beer-bellied, balding uncle Michael had described.

“Well... I’ll head back to school now. I have a mock exam tomorrow, I’ll come see you again the day after?”

Michael didn’t tease her as she used to: “Hurry up and go back to study the Eight Honors and Eight Shames and the Three Represents. Michael & Benny extra, can you ever get above eighty in politics?”—She just stared at Zoe Young, as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t get the words out.

After a long while, in front of her father and the nurse, who were busy preparing things for her, and ignoring the surprised looks from others in the ward, she said loudly to Zoe Young: “Later, in middle school, I was right next to your Beijiang school.”

“I saw him again later.”

“And then...”

Zoe Young had a vague premonition, and listened intently, until Michael was obediently wheeled out of the ward at her father’s urging.

Before the door closed, Zoe Young saw Michael look back at her one last time. Her eyes were curved, as if she was smiling, but the reluctance in that look made Zoe Young’s mind go blank for a moment.

She never expected that the last time she would see Michael would be in such a chaotic scene. The old lady in the next bed was groaning, the nurse was clanging around with the IV, Michael was hurriedly wheeled away, and so much was left unsaid.

Zoe Young had learned so many tricks since childhood to turn danger into safety, to find a way out of any situation, even to find a bit of sweetness in suffering.

But at that moment, after losing her mother and Uncle Quinn, she once again experienced a sense of helplessness.

Later.

When Michael left for the last time, maybe she had already sensed something. She tried her best to tell Zoe Young what happened afterwards.

But there was no afterwards.

Michael could say that in her not-quite-20 years of life, she had no regrets. She lived boldly, openly, happily, with a clear conscience.

But her greatest regret was that she would never have the chance to make any more regrets.

After the afterwards.

She still had so many stories that never got the chance to happen.

He was a knight without a steed or a lance, traveling a great distance to follow a willful princess.

No matter if the princess had long hair or short, loved apples or slept in endless slumber.

And no matter which frog or king would take her away in the future, “and live happily ever after.”

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Charles Johnson Extra: The Three of Us

Fastest updates for the latest chapters of Hello, Old Times!

Charles Johnson extra: “Charles Johnson likes Charlotte Lee, Charlotte Lee likes Andrew Lane.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Nathan Lucas suddenly drew out an “oh” in realization: “No wonder I always thought their relationship was so weird. But Andrew Lane never mentioned it to me. An open triangle is unstable, you know.”

“How is it unstable? Maybe Andrew Lane is actually in love with Charles Johnson.”

After his companion gave this conclusion, he smugly aimed at the white sign above the urinal that read “One small step forward, one big step for civility,” and kept going.

They didn’t know that Charles Johnson was also in the bathroom.

The two zipped up, chatting and laughing as they went to wash their hands. Charles Johnson dawdled a bit before pulling up his pants, and when he turned around, he almost bumped into someone.

“Hey, Charles Johnson, I was just looking for you. Charlotte Lee wants to switch to liberal arts, she just told me, did you know?”

Andrew Lane’s grinning face appeared in his view. Charles Johnson was stunned for a moment. “Liberal arts?”

“You didn’t know?” Andrew Lane said casually as he zipped up.

Charles Johnson turned on the faucet.

“You just found out, how could I have heard about it?”

Ignoring Andrew Lane’s bewildered expression, Charles Johnson shook the water off his hands and strode out of the bathroom.

This slow-witted idiot.

Charles Johnson didn’t know if he was the only one who could call Andrew Lane an idiot.

In everyone else’s eyes, Andrew Lane was a smart, kind, outstanding, lovable, perfect role model. Ever since Charles Johnson first saw him, all the parents, teachers, and classmates around had never disagreed.

Including Charlotte Lee.

Only Charles Johnson never thought Andrew Lane was anything special. In Charles Johnson’s eyes, Andrew Lane was just the most ordinary, sleazy, idiotic buddy who would proudly and disdainfully shout about his range in front of the “One small step forward, one big step for civility” sign that every boys’ bathroom had.

Even if this good buddy blocked out the sun in front of Charles Johnson all the way, he never felt jealous.

But that simple sentence, “Charles Johnson likes Charlotte Lee, Charlotte Lee likes Andrew Lane,” suddenly made him a little uneasy.

It was as if the secret wrapped up in all those years of laughter and innocent closeness had been seen through by outsiders just like that.

The Chinese teacher was the homeroom teacher, and during class would digress from Tsinghua University to Qian Zhong, then from Qian Zhong to Yang Jiang, and finally mention a book: “We Three.”

At the time, Nathan Lucas and the others snickered and nudged Andrew Lane with their elbows. Andrew Lane would fall asleep as soon as Chinese class started, and when he was poked awake, he’d look over at Charles Johnson and Charlotte Lee’s table with a big question mark on his face, falling right into Nathan Lucas and the others’ trap.

“See, I told you, the three of you are like conjoined twins. You should write a book too, call it ‘The Three of Us,’ Charles Johnson extra, and really go on about your messy, tangled relationships.”

Nathan Lucas laughed wildly, only to be smacked in the face with a Chinese textbook by Andrew Lane, who then raised his eyebrows and grinned ambiguously: “What are you talking about? No matter how tangled, could it be more tangled than the two of us?”