Chapter Twenty-Five: Voice Acting

"Ah, I’m so sorry I’m late." Leng Zheng arrived in a hurry, breathless.

“It’s fine, really, just two minutes late. It won’t delay us. Even if you’d come early, we’d still need a moment to get ready. Now that everyone’s set, why don’t we begin?” The recording studio technician smiled at her.

“Alright,” Leng Zheng nodded.

“You’re here to record the three short pieces you read during last night’s livestream, right, Zheng the Great?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Okay, then let’s get started.”

“Mm, alright.”

…

She Is the Light That Illuminates My Life:

There’s someone I like—she is the only ray of light in my otherwise dark life.

I remember, the summer before I entered sixth grade, my parents divorced. For as long as I can remember, my parents were always arguing, even after my younger brother was born. Eventually, they split.

They both asked me which one I wanted to live with. I didn’t know, so I simply followed the court’s decision: my brother and I went with our mother.

In daily life, it was my mother, grandmother, brother, and me living together. My mother and grandmother always told me I must make my mother proud, never let my father or his mistress look down on me.

Because of this, I grew up with a deep sense of inferiority, believing everything I did was wrong, which led to me failing at everything.

After graduating from middle school, that summer, I fell in love with novels, and never looked back. I made many like-minded friends, and together we wrote stories. My very first book was even accepted by Crazy Reads.

With excitement and trepidation, I went to tell my mother, thinking she would support me. But reality struck hard—she refused and told me to focus on my studies and not waste my education. Again, she said I needed to make her proud and not let my father and his mistress look down on me.

Being rebellious, I argued with her fiercely, packed my things, and left the home where I’d lived more than ten years—a home that always felt stifling.

It was raining that day. I walked down an alley with my head bowed. Though the alley was lined with flowers, I felt nothing but cold emptiness inside.

I squatted by the wall, looking at all the houses, realizing I had nowhere to belong.

That’s when she walked past me, handed me an umbrella, and invited me to her home. Since we were classmates, I agreed.

When she asked me, I told her everything. She brought me to her parents and explained. Seeing my situation, her parents agreed to let me stay.

So I lived with her and every day, we went to and from school together, played together… Her smile was like a ray of light, shining on me, little by little… illuminating my whole world.

Perhaps such things only happen in novels, but I assure you, this was real.

I fell in love with this girl with the dazzling smile, but I knew I wasn’t good enough for her. I wanted to give up. Yet, when I tried, I found I simply couldn’t let her go.

She is the light in my life.

In this world, there can’t be life without light—otherwise, the world is incomplete.

So I worked hard, striving to catch up to her, hoping one day to stand by her side and declare loudly: She’s mine!

Step by step, I got closer to her. We got into the same high school, studied and worked hard together, planning for the future—though, sadly, not a future for the two of us.

Gradually, I shed my inferiority, climbing upwards bit by bit.

I think Goudan (Wu Zhe) wrote it best in "Wild Grass": “No one’s life is perfect forever, but at any time, we must look ahead. If we’re filled with hope, we can overcome anything.”

During the college entrance exams, we both were accepted into the same university.

Same university, same major, same dormitory. We went everywhere together, inseparable as twins. People who didn’t know us thought we were a couple.

During our time together, I kept trying to “bend” her, but in truth she was the one who bent me—she had to take responsibility!

In my heart, I believe only restrooms need to distinguish gender. Why should love? Whether it’s between teacher and student, older woman and younger man, or between two women, society rarely approves, but in the end, it’s just two people in love.

If two people love each other, why should they be forced apart by prejudice?

On her birthday, with her parents’ blessing and support, I secretly planned a confession. I was so nervous, scared she’d say no, but of course, she agreed.

Later, I learned she had long since fallen for me too. She’d planned to confess on my birthday, but I beat her to it.

Now, I’m a novelist, and she’s an office worker. I can stand proudly by her side and tell the world: She’s mine!

May all secret loves in this world be fulfilled

I once secretly loved a boy. He was handsome, smart—a dream for many. I was his neighbor, the little sister he’d grown up with. Our mothers were best friends, our fathers brothers, and since childhood, everyone joked we were a perfect match. They even talked about an arranged marriage.

We were close, always in the same school, from elementary to high school.

I was young and in the throes of first love, smitten with this handsome, high-achieving boy.

Secret love is so hard. You never know what he thinks or if he likes you. You imagine he likes someone else—someone better in every way—and you feel lost and anxious.

So I worked hard to keep up with him, to become better, so I could stand by his side and say, “He’s mine! He’s my man!”

Many girls chased him, but I was the only one close to him. I never knew whether he saw me as a girl or just a little sister.

I’d always talk to my best friend about it. She told me to confess before someone else snatched him away. But I was too timid.

My best friend liked girls herself, so I never asked her how to chase a boy—after all, she hadn’t succeeded yet either.

After the college entrance exams, we both scored in the six-hundred range, nearly seven hundred, and our phones rang non-stop. He suddenly asked which university I’d choose. In the end, we picked Fudan University together, partly because it was close to home and partly because my best friend got in too.

For a while, I was jealous of every girl who appeared by his side. It reminded me of a girl in our class in middle school who liked a boy and would get upset whenever he talked to another girl.

Now, I understand how she felt.

Even though I knew this secret love might never have an ending, I still wanted to try—to gamble on whether he liked me as a girl or just a sister.

In our first year, I confessed to him. I thought he would reject me, but to my surprise, he agreed.

That night, he brought me to his apartment and called our parents to say I wouldn’t be home. He held me as we slept.

The next morning, I thought it had all been a dream, but his actions told me it was real.

This isn’t a fairytale or a novel—it’s real.

It felt surreal. In our second year, our parents arranged our engagement, and after graduation, we got married.

Now, he treats me very well. My best friend and I both write web novels from home, while Mr. Gu goes out to earn money for me. My best friend has finally wooed the girl she loved.

She and I share the same view on love: only restrooms need to distinguish gender; why should love? If two people love each other, why must they be forced apart by prejudice?

But I’d add: Secret love doesn’t always lose. If you don’t try, you’ll never know if he likes you. Liking someone is a match between equals; loving someone is surrender.

Someone who loves you will never let you lose, but someone who doesn’t will always let you lose.

May all the secret loves in the world find their happy ending.

A Story Like a Fairytale, Yet Not Quite One

He and I were childhood sweethearts, growing up together. He was two years older, and we once promised to attend the same university, never to leave each other.

But at fifteen, he broke that promise.

Later, my parents divorced, which hit me hard. I was lost and didn’t know what to do. In the end, I chose not to stay with either parent and lived independently.

Perhaps because of childhood stubbornness, I worked hard in my final year of high school and was accepted to Fudan University.

Fudan was full of talented upperclassmen and women. One day, while jogging, a basketball flew out of nowhere and hit me on the head. A senior came running, smiled, apologized, and hurried off.

It was only later I realized how healing his smile was. Yet, I didn’t fall for him right away.

After that, the senior began pursuing me—diligently. I thought he’d be a typical insensitive guy, but he turned out to be gentle and attentive. He made me brown sugar water when I had my period, chose great date spots, took photos of me…

He doted on me. Wherever I wanted to go, he’d take me. When my grades slipped, he tutored me. He turned down anyone who tried to pursue him.

In our junior year winter break, we met each other’s parents. Both families approved and even discussed marriage. He agreed to visit Beijing with me in summer, to see where my parents met, and pick tea.

One day, while I was singing in the dorm, feeling pleased with myself, my roommate burst in with news: he—the senior—was going abroad to study. He’d been granted the only scholarship in the finance department. I was stunned and rushed to ask him if it was true.

His answer was a heavy blow:

“It’s true. I’m sorry, Xingchen. I don’t want my skyscraper to have a single flaw. You know, if a building has even a centimeter’s imperfection, it can collapse.”

“So… I’m your flaw?” I felt a wave of bitterness. Why? Why is the future more important?

“I’m sorry, Xingchen. Your screen name, like you, is especially beautiful… Goodbye!”

That’s when I realized any relationship can be ended with a single “I’m sorry.” Through tears, I said to him, “Then I wish you a bright future, without regrets.”

“Thank you.”

And so, we missed our chance.

Two years after graduation, a friend invited me to visit Beijing. I remembered how he’d once promised to take me there.

I set out for Beijing, stood atop the Great Wall, and, before I knew it, tears streamed down my face. I thought I’d already forgotten him.

As I was about to descend, I spotted both my childhood friend and the senior in the crowd. Suddenly, I understood—and lowered my head, smiling.

I didn’t know if I was smiling or crying then. Only at that moment did I realize this dream wasn’t mine alone, but all of ours.

Writing down my experience, I still don’t know what’s real and what’s not—half true, half fiction. For a time, I was lost, wondering if I was so unworthy that both of them left me.

A sentence that struck me deeply: “To live brilliantly, in the end, loneliness is the price we pay.”

My childhood friend once asked me my dream for marriage, and I replied, “To cherish one person as steadfastly as the stars, from dawn’s first light to the white snows of old age.”

It looks like a fairytale, but the choices they made are reality.

PS: I plan to post these three short pieces on Jianshu, as a kind of personal social account for Xiao Zheng.

Alright, see you tomorrow~