It had been weeks since Li Wei st knocked on Jenny’s door—only to be met with silence.

  Then one day, she was gone.

  The unit across his had new tenants now. A couple, he thought. The woman often hummed while watering the pnts she pced by the railing. The man left for work early, briefcase in hand.

  Normal life resumed.

  Except for Li Wei.

  He stared at the door that used to be Jenny’s, his gaze distant, as if hoping she’d reappear if he wished hard enough. But she didn’t.

  She had erased herself from his life completely.

  And he had no one to bme but himself.

  Csses were over. He had already graduated. His parents hosted a celebration dinner at a hotel in Da’an. He smiled in pictures, shook hands with retives, and listened to praise that sounded like white noise.

  “You should prepare for your master’s,” his mother had said. “Or start interning under your brother.”

  He nodded.

  But all he thought about was her.

  Jenny—quiet, stubborn, strong.

  And gone.

  Li Wei picked up his phone and stared at their old message thread. Still no replies. Still nothing.

  He clicked on her name.

  Last seen: weeks ago.

  He knew she had read his messages.

  He also knew she wasn’t going to reply.

  He started running again.

  Same 6 a.m. arm. Same route around the campus court. But now, the rhythm felt emptier.

  It wasn’t about training anymore—it was about coping.

  And somehow, as the sweat poured and his chest tightened, his regrets became heavier to carry.

  Why didn’t I protect her?

  Why didn’t I fight harder when Chun Mei twisted the story?

  Why did I let my silence speak louder than my feelings?

  That night, Li Wei sat in the empty bleachers of the basketball court. Alone.

  He remembered the interdepartmental game—how she had come to watch. He didn’t know it then. But she had watched.

  She had stayed, even when she had no reason to.

  And when she left, she didn’t even ask for a goodbye.

  He met Victor again by chance on campus.

  “Still training?” Victor asked casually, though his eyes were sharp.

  “Yeah,” Li Wei replied. “And you?”

  “Same,” Victor said. He paused. “She’s doing better now, you know.”

  Li Wei’s throat tightened. “Is she… happy?”

  Victor shrugged. “Happiness isn’t always loud. But she’s at peace. That’s what matters, right?”

  Li Wei nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’s what matters.”

  Victor looked at him for a long moment before adding, “Sometimes the best way to love someone is to leave them alone.”

  With that, he walked away.

  That night, Li Wei returned home, opened his notebook, and began to write.

  Not notes. Not game pns.

  But a letter.

  To Jenny.

  He didn’t know if he’d ever send it.

  But he wrote anyway.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough. I’m sorry I let you carry everything alone. You don’t owe me a second chance. But I owe you this truth: I miss you. I admire you. And I hope, wherever you are, you’re finally breathing freely.”

  He folded the paper and pced it in a box, hidden at the back of his drawer.

  For now, that was enough.

  Li Wei was still learning to let go. But for the first time in a long time… He was also learning to grow.