The girl I like has yet to grow up.

Fang Chang’an handed the iPod back to Shen Mo and asked, “So you like Jay Chou?” Shen Mo nodded vigorously. Fang Chang’an smiled, “I like him too.”

Shen Mo pressed her lips together in a small smile and asked quietly, “Have you listened to his new album?” Fang Chang’an shook his head; he had no idea what new album she meant. Shen Mo pointed to the earphones. “The song you just heard, ‘East Wind Breaks,’ is from the new album. Do you like it?”

Fang Chang’an nodded. “I think it sounds even better than his earlier ones.”

“Mm-hmm!” The girl seemed to have found a soulmate and nodded enthusiastically. “I think so too! And ‘In the Name of the Father’ is great as well. I’ll play it for you.”

She switched the track, watching Fang Chang’an’s face expectantly. He played along, pretending to hear it for the first time, and exclaimed, “Wow… This feels really different, doesn’t it?”

“Right? I thought so too.” She looked a little proud, then tried to rein it in, but her lips couldn’t help curving upwards. She scooted a bit closer to Fang Chang’an and whispered, “These two are my favorites from this album.”

Fang Chang’an nodded, listening in a way that suggested he was completely absorbed. Seeing this, Shen Mo wasn’t annoyed; if anything, she looked even happier and settled in to listen seriously as well.

When the song finished, Fang Chang’an asked, “Is Jay Chou the only one you like?”

“There are lots more,” Shen Mo counted on her fingers. “Mayday, Stefanie Sun, Jolin Tsai, S.H.E… I listen to all of them.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

The girl hesitated, tilting her head as if unsure, and said softly, “If I tell you, you can’t make fun of me.”

Fang Chang’an smiled and nodded.

“Why would I laugh at you?” he asked, surprised.

Shen Mo studied his face, then, a bit indignant, said, “My classmates used to laugh at me.”

She hadn’t expected that he’d actually heard that song. Her eyes lit up and she nodded hard. “I like that one.”

“Me too. And that other one…”

“Uh… really?”

“Yes!” she nodded firmly.

Fang Chang’an was speechless for a moment. “Alright, isn’t there another one, something like ‘Good Days’?”

“‘Good Days’?”

“Yes, that one.”

Shen Mo finally nodded, giving her approval, then immediately asked, “Who’s your favorite singer?”

Fang Chang’an laughed. “My favorite singer hasn’t debuted yet.”

Shen Mo obviously didn’t believe him; she puffed out her cheeks. “You’re lying!”

“It’s the truth.”

She thought for a moment. “So that means you don’t really have a favorite singer, right?”

“I do, but they haven’t debuted yet.”

He wasn’t actually lying. His favorite singer was Xu Song, especially for his lyrics, and Mao Buyi as well, also for the words. Neither had debuted yet. Compared to them, even the works of Vincent Fang and Lin Xi felt a little distant to him—he liked their songs, but their lyrics left only a vague impression.

Of course, that was just his personal taste as an ordinary listener.

Shen Mo wasn’t stupid; she didn’t buy his nonsense and rolled her eyes at him.

Fang Chang’an just smiled, looking at the delicate, pretty face beside him. Suddenly moved, he opened his notebook, picked up his pen, and wrote a few lines on the “classroom message board” they shared:

The singer I like hasn’t debuted yet,
The girl I like hasn’t grown up yet,
The life I like hasn’t arrived yet,
The flourishing age I await is coming,
And I will walk into the future with them.

He paused, then added at the end:
Fang Chang’an, September 7, 2003, to twenty years from now

After finishing, he read it over and felt quite pleased with himself. The words flowed freely, full of subtlety and elegance—he thought they had the spirit of the ancient masters.

Shen Mo was reading over his shoulder, but only noticed the second line. She felt her cheeks grow warm and pretended not to see it, asking in a small voice, “Why twenty years from now?”

Fang Chang’an smiled. “Just wrote whatever came to mind.”

The girl responded with a soft “oh,” then looked at the page for a while longer. She glanced up at him with a strange expression. Fang Chang’an thought she was about to ask who the girl was, but instead, she frowned slightly and said, “Your handwriting is really ugly.”

Fang Chang’an was speechless.

Seeing his reaction, she immediately tried to make amends, worried she’d hurt his feelings by blurting out the truth in an attempt to change the subject. “I mean, it’s a bit messy… I have some copybooks at home. I’ll bring you one tomorrow so you can practice.”

Fang Chang’an drew a deep breath and nodded. “Alright! I’ll practice hard—I can’t disappoint your kindness.”

“Mm-hmm!” Shen Mo beamed and didn’t say anything more, listening to music and reading her book.

Fang Chang’an fell silent too. Only Jay Chou’s gentle singing drifted through the earphones: “Your smile is like an embrace, I wish I could keep your goodness just for myself…”

From behind, Wang Ke looked up and saw the two of them sharing a pair of earphones, sitting close together because the cord was short. She pursed her lips and muttered to herself, “Listening to music right before class… Well, I won’t listen, I’ll focus on my book. Next time I’ll beat both of you in the exam!”

In the third period of the morning, which was Chinese, after the longer break following the second class and eye exercises the night before, Wang Ke, Wang Yuwei, and a few other girls went to the corridor to skip rope. Shen Mo, being an “old hand,” was invited along. Before leaving, she generously left her iPod with Fang Chang’an.

Fang Chang’an listened to a couple of songs, then went to the restroom, stopped by the cafeteria to wash his hands, and by the time he returned, Shen Mo was back at her desk, reading and drinking milk. When she saw him, she stood up to let him in.

After finishing her milk, as if remembering something, she quietly asked, “Did you drink your milk?”

Fang Chang’an nodded. “I had it with breakfast.”

“Do you like plain milk?” At this age, quite a few kids didn’t like it and preferred sweet or flavored ones. She seemed a bit worried he wouldn’t like it, her eyes wide and sparkling as she watched him.

Fang Chang’an smiled. “Plain milk is my favorite.”

“Really? Me too!” The girl had found yet another thing in common with him and looked delighted. “My grandma says drinking milk helps you grow taller, but I’m still not very tall.”

Fang Chang’an replied, “You’re younger than most of our classmates, but your height is about average. Compared to your peers, you’re definitely tall.”

Shen Mo didn’t particularly like being called young, but she didn’t mind when Fang Chang’an said it—especially since it was a compliment about her height. She nodded with reserved pride, making sure not to look overly smug. “I’ll keep growing.”

She glanced at Fang Chang’an and encouraged him, “You’ll grow too.”

Fang Chang’an nodded emphatically. “Definitely!”