Chapter 40: Bless Us, Won’t You?

The old homeroom teacher and Li Teacher—now Director Li—arrived together. One said, “Wow, everyone’s here this year. Guess it really is the star power, huh? My wife was *so* bummed she couldn’t make it back in time for the afternoon.”

The other chuckled, “Thanks for remembering me today!”

Chaos erupted as everyone started passing blame:
“Yutu, what’s up with you? Why’d we never get Li Teacher before?”
“Old homeroom teacher, long time no see!”

A wave of hugs and handshakes swept through the group. When he’d taught Class 5, he’d barely been out of grad school himself—a boyish young man more like a brother than a teacher.

“Oh, Yutu, I didn’t see you last year.”
“Qiao Jingjing! Your movie’s getting rave reviews! Let me grab a signature for my wife first.”

Director Li had once taught electives, so he was closest to the astronomy club crew—after all, they’d spent half a year scrambling through labs and rooftops together.

“Yutu, your space livestream lecture’s officially part of our school’s Science Lecture Series now. When’s your next one?”
“Jingjing, Shanghai Astronomical Museum’s impossible to book. Can you help us arrange a visit for the astronomy club? We’re looking at forty people, but if that’s too much, even twenty would be great.”
“And Shao Yang—your post about doing social research on internet products? Let’s turn that into an official student project!”

“Alright, is everyone here?”

Finally, Li Ming remembered his role as host.

“Chang Xinyuan didn’t come back this year.”
“Wan Chenyi isn’t here either.”
“Qiaoyou has a 16-hour time difference—she’ll call us back soon.”
“Xia Qing… she said something came up. Not sure if she’ll make it.”

Xia Qing sat across the street in a cozy little café, by the window. She could see the lake shimmering under moonlight, the soft glow of bars and restaurants lining Dongji Lake. Romantic. Stylish. Perfectly picturesque.

Normally, she’d have snapped a few selfies. But not today.

Her phone buzzed with messages from her best friend, Xuanxuan—videos, photos, captions. Clips from the movie. Qiao Jingjing bowing on screen. Her laughing with Pei Pei. The brand of her dress, the designer bag slung over her shoulder: *Just another reminder of how high and mighty a celebrity truly is.*

But mostly, it was Yutu. Xuanxuan knew exactly what she wanted to see. Yutu guiding people to their seats. Listening intently behind Li Ming. Standing on a raised walkway, eyes fixed on the screen.

His expression was always calm—sharp brows, a firm jaw—but right now, his lips were pressed together just slightly, softening the edges. His eyes held a quiet light, like he was staring at stars, or maybe the whole universe.

Not quite dazzling. Just… tender. Like mist rising at dawn. And that kind of look—never, ever, had it ever landed on her.

Xia Qing wrapped her arms around herself. She was freezing. She didn’t even have the courage to cross those hundred or so meters to stand beside him. To stand beside them.

Class 5 reunions were always loose, easygoing. Some brought snacks. Others chatted. Glasses clinked. A playlist stretched endlessly—whenever someone’s name came up, they stepped up to sing, no matter how off-key. Always applause. Always flowers.

“Hey, these flowers are fresh today.”
Someone admired the bouquet, waving it playfully.

*“Starlight”* was Li Teacher’s signature song—probably because it reminded him of youth: *Starlight, lighting my front door, lighting the way home.*

As the final note faded, Yutu stepped forward with a bouquet—each table had one, a small, delicate bunch of white freesias.

“Teacher,” he said, voice steady, “do you remember when we observed Halley’s Comet back then?”

“Of course I do,” Li replied, smiling. “You won provincial first prize. But what mattered more was that you chose this path.”

He took the flowers, pride glowing in his eyes as he looked at his most cherished student.

“Teacher,” Yutu said softly, turning halfway, reaching out toward Jingjing. She smoothed her dress, stepped forward in the music and the hush of the room—just five steps, and suddenly, they stood side by side, fingers brushing.

“So… will you be the first to bless us?”

The music still played. The crowd fell silent. Everyone watched—the silver-haired teacher cradling a fragile bouquet, offering it to a woman who was more beautiful than any flower.

Yutu slipped an arm around Jingjing’s shoulders. They spoke quietly. His long fingers rested gently on her thin frame. The ring on his finger gleamed, heavy with meaning.

“Oh my god!”
“What’s going on?!”
“Yutu and Qiao Jingjing?! Really?!”

Whispers rose like waves through the hall.

One voice stood out—Li Ming: “I’m saying it now—afternoon screening was *my* treat. I just borrowed the flowers to give credit where it’s due.”

Another—Pei Pei: “We’re all classmates. No photos. No posts. And later, Yutu’s gonna send us all红包 (red envelopes)!”

And then, the old homeroom teacher, voice trembling with disbelief: “Why not me?! Why not me?! Yutu! Shouldn’t it have been *me*?!”

“Why?”

Yutu reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“Li Teacher has proof.”

An old certificate, yellowed with age:
**Provincial High School Science Paper Award – First Prize**
*Paper Title:* “Observation Strategies and Orbital Patterns of Halley’s Comet”
*Supervisor:* Li Yaoguang
*Authors:* Yu Tu, Zhang Chi, Qiu Wen, Li Ming, Zhou Zhou, Qin Shaoyang, He Xinzhong, Qiao Jingjing

*Province Education Commission*
*May 2010*

The white-haired man laughed, holding it up. “Yep, I’ve got proof.”

Li Ming and the others groaned: “We’ve got proof too… but why does this seat feel so damn awkward?”

The old homeroom teacher, full of energy, started directing the photo shoot: “Teacher holds the top, Yutu takes the right, Jingjing, you take the left—show off your rings!”

“Zhang Chi—you three cover your names with your hands. Those three weren’t even in our class. And me? I’ll hold the flowers. Oh wow, perfect!”

The coffee on the table had gone cold. Xia Qing stared at her phone, watching message after message flood in:

*Yutu says: “Please let Li Teacher bless us first. We started back then, during the Halley observation.”*

Impossible.

Back then, Yutu hadn’t even *looked* at Jingjing.

Xia Qing—how could he do this to you? Pretend nothing happened?

Jingjing wore a massive diamond ring—probably bought by Yutu, but honestly, she could afford it.

They posed for photos, using their old award certificate as props—really just to show off their rings. Flashy. Unapologetic. Like they didn’t care who was watching.