Chapter 1: A Fifteen-Year Gamble

The coffee table in front of the sofa was covered with fifteen diaries, on the first page of each, there was only one sentence:

"This year I don't want to like that idiot Pei Shangxuan anymore!"

The man's fingers traced over his own name, pausing briefly on the word "idiot". She was absolutely right; he truly was an undeniable idiot!

The TV screen flickered while the spinning DVD player was oblivious to the shift in the viewer's attention, understanding only how to read the disc mechanically. Thus, accompanied by birdsong, a rich baritone voice solemnly narrated, "For them, it is a promise, the promise for return."

Yet, another voice echoed in his ears, marked by the finality of shattering glass, "I don't have the strength to fly back anymore."

That was the last thing Li Li had said to Pei Shangxuan.

The night deepened, and the clock hands swept past midnight. Apart from the occasional car speeding by, the earth and sky reclaimed their calm after a noisy day. Most households had extinguished their lights, with only a few lamps stubbornly waiting for the city dwellers who returned at night. As a series of doors opened and closed intermittently, the lights went off one by one, leaving only one lamp persistently on, like a steadfast sentinel waiting for someone who didn't know when they would come home.

The living room was decorated in a minimalist style, with a black ceiling creatively featuring four grooves, where many ceiling pendants were embedded. At the moment, bright light shone on the freshly waxed hardwood floor, reflecting as clear as a mirror.

The homeowner evidently preferred cool tones; the wall behind the TV was a combination of black and white blocks, with three-dimensional geometric shapes exerting an odd sense of oppression. It was hard to imagine that the man sitting on the white sofa opposite would be interested in the audiovisual entertainment about to start.

He was a handsome man, and even though a piece of adhesive tape on the corner of his mouth was rather unsightly, it didn't detract from his good looks. Instead, it added a certain appeal of a man hurt. He gazed unblinking at the TV screen, which displayed "Loading disc", his thin lips pressed tightly, his jawline taut, giving him a very serious demeanor. His seriousness was not like that of an old scholar engrossed in academics, but rather as if facing a life and death decision, arousing curiosity about the content of the DVD that the machine was reading.

When the film began, the dark screen displayed only a full moon hanging high in the sky, and bird songs melodiously emerged from the surround sound speakers, followed by the enchanting chant along with three French words that he didn't recognize slowly appeared.

Le Peuple Migrateur—underneath was the Chinese translation— "The Migration of Birds".

He reached for the coffee table in front of the sofa and randomly picked one diary from the neatly stacked pile, bringing it in front of his eyes. He glanced at the cover, adorned with a rustic pink hue and a cuddly Winnie the Pooh which, having landed on a wide array of stationary products big and small, had been present in China long before official introduction, including this diary that clearly belonged to the last century.

The diary had a lock, as though hinting at countless secrets within, waiting for him to unlock it. There were many shiny keys spread out on the coffee table, and he patiently tried one after another until the fifteenth key opened the diary.

Recorded on the first page was the date January 1st, 1994, with only one sentence filling the entire page:

"This year I don't want to like that idiot Pei Shangxuan anymore!"

On June 15th, 1990, Li Li, who was sitting in the school auditorium waiting for a grade-level meeting to start, was tapped on the shoulder by someone from behind, and she turned her head.

Pei Shangxuan, with his thick eyebrows and big eyes, asked her with a grin, "Li Li, who do you guess will win the Hercules Cup?"

On June 8th, the World Cup in Italy kicked off. Originally Li Li had no interest in soccer, but her uncle was a fan, who had become unexplainably exhilarated since the World Cup began, and he would wake up in the middle of the night when the alarm clock went off to watch the game.

Li Li was woken by the alarm and discovered that her arm had been bitten by mosquitoes several times. She felt an unbearable itching and stumbled to the kitchen for some mosquito repellent, only to see her young uncle fiddling with the black and white fourteen-inch TV.

She walked over to help, yawning as she angled the antenna downward, and the picture indeed became clear. Her unmarried uncle, who was always so informal with her, dragged her to watch as soon as he saw she was awake. Thus, Li Li sat down and watched the first live broadcast of a soccer match in her life—Argentina vs. Cameroon.

Argentina was the defending champion, and her uncle, pointing at the short figure constantly being knocked down by the Cameroon players on the screen, told her excitedly that he was the great Maradona, then indignantly criticized the African players for their savage fouling. She indifferently glanced at the man lying on the ground, his face contorted with pain.

Since she couldn't sleep anyway, Li Li took a Chinese textbook from her room and started reciting an ancient text that she needed to memorize in a few days. She occasionally glanced at the television, not understanding how such a dull match could stir up so much excitement in her uncle.

Then, the commentator Song Shixiong's somewhat sharp voice reached Li Li's ears, "'Son of the Wind' Caniggia will replace Ruggeri on the field."

"Son of the Wind"? The title did spark some interest. She looked up, and on the TV, a sideline figure who was slim and handsome instantly caught her eye.

The next day, Li Li flipped through the Weekly Radio and TV Guide to find out the replay time of the soccer match. She turned on the color TV to watch the replay of the opening game. She saw him, with his flowing blond hair, the blue and white-striped jersey, the nimble and agile footwork—indeed, he was worthy of the nickname "Son of the Wind."

From then on, she fell in love with soccer, fell in love with Argentina; it was a profound and ingrained passion. She was not one to easily give her heart, but once she liked something, it was a lasting affair.

Li Li looked at Pei Shangxuan's handsome face and uttered six words, "Of course, it's Argentina."

"I bet on Germany." The boy was brimming with enthusiasm, his mouth wide open in a blinding smile. Li Li turned her head away without a word—there was no reasoning between those of differing paths.

Pei Shangxuan gave her shoulder a pat, and she reluctantly turned back toward him.

"Want to make a bet? I bet on Germany," he said confidently, as if victory was already in his hands.

Li Li didn't quite understand what was up with Pei Shangxuan today, why he insisted on arguing over this matter? She shared a desk with him every three weeks, and beyond that, they had no interaction.

Li Li's class was unlike others, with a homeroom teacher who enjoyed being creative. To prevent any unnecessary romantic complications due to boys and girls sitting together for too long, the teacher came up with the idea of rotating desk partners every week. Li Li was indifferent to this but had grown accustomed to wearing a mask of compliance to cover up her indifferent heart. She didn't care who sat next to her, as no one seemed to care about her either, so she found Pei Shangxuan's behavior quite abnormal.

"I bet on Argentina," she said slowly. Before she could ask what the bet was, the grade leader announced the start of the assembly, an imposing voice coupled with the sharp feedback from the microphone, assaulting the ears. She covered her ears and turned away.

On July 8th, Argentina lost to Germany in the final, and Li Li's favorite "Son of the Wind" was suspended. The broadcast cut to a close-up of Caniggia, his forlorn look leaving a deep impression. Meanwhile, Li Li also lost to Pei Shangxuan.

During a summer break return to school, Pei Shangxuan copied her summer homework, gloating over his victory. She raised an eyebrow, unwilling to concede, and said, "I don't remember us agreeing on a bet."

Pei Shangxuan was taken aback, annoyed by this oversight. He tilted his head to look at Li Li and then burst out laughing, "Well then, just remember you owe me a bet."

She owed him that bet for the next long fifteen years.

The thirteen-and-a-half-year-old Li Li was a girl with an inferiority complex. She wasn't pretty and her family also called her "ugly." Over time, Li Li's feelings about her looks changed from sadness to complete indifference, with a touch of resigned defiance. She had never understood why nursery school teachers always gave the latest toys to other kids, or why boys in elementary school always helped other girls with crafts. It wasn't until she started junior high that she realized that everyone has a desire to be beautiful.

(End of Chapter)

This book is first released by Xiaoxiang Academy, please do not repost!