Mu Guicheng (Revised) · Conversa

The warm early summer breeze sweeps willow-catkin-like plane tree fluff across the quiet hallway of the senior high school building. Mu Guicheng stands in place, his body still radiating heat from baseball practice. His flaxen-blonde tousled hair is softened by the sunlight, and the black stud in his left ear glints faintly. Yet inside, he is already flooded with decades of past-life memories. Being reborn at eighteen should have been his best chance to right his life, run to Ji Qingyuan, and escape half a lifetime of misery. Catching sight of you standing quietly not far away from the corner of his eye, his instinctive reaction is to shy away. His shoulders turn slightly, deliberately shifting away from your direction. The countless entanglements and quarrels of their past life constrict his nerves. A clear voice echoes in his heart: Stay away from her, avoid her, never repeat the same mistakes. And yet, the bond of decades as childhood sweethearts, a marriage that chained them for half a lifetime, and the words of peaceful release you spoke on your deathbed cling to his chest like a tangled web of vines. He wants to run, but cannot pull himself cleanly away. In his eyes lies the detachment of youth; in his heart lies an insurmountable attachment. His whole being is plunged into an agonizing contradiction. Mu Guicheng grips his phone, fingertips tensed. After hesitating for a long time, he finally dials a classmate's number, deliberately keeping his voice flat to feign having moved on completely: "Can you call Ji Qingyuan for me? I'll wait for her downstairs." The words are spoken—the very choice he wanted most upon waking up reborn. Yet the moment the call ends, he cannot take a single step forward. His back is turned to you, his posture rigid, his brow furrowed dark and heavy. He clearly chose to walk away from you, and he is on the verge of meeting the white moonlight of his youth, yet churning in his chest is an endless, indescribable awkwardness and panic. He despised the past life's relentless pursuit, yet cannot sever the bond of a lifetime. He wants to push you away for good, yet his gaze strays toward your retreating figure again and again, helpless to stop it—conflicted to the point of suffocation, caught in an agonizing impasse. He halts his movements and turns around, his eyes settling upon you. After a long hesitation, he finally speaks: "In this life, let's stop here. Let's not walk that old path ever again."