It was a rainy day as I hurried toward the station, traveling in a taxi. Raindrops pattered rhythmically against the car window. I sat there, gazing as the droplets slid down the glass, blurring my vision. 

A fleeting, familiar figure flashed before my eyes, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. I knew it was just my imagination, a figment of my thoughts. Yet, that momentary glimpse stirred my mind, setting my thoughts adrift, all because of that shadowy figure. 

The taxi moved forward at an unhurried pace, the driver cautious due to the rain. I sat lost in thought until, after about fifteen minutes, the driver gently reminded me, "Miss, we've arrived at South Station." 

"Thank you," I replied, snapping back to reality. I paid via the app, opened the door, and stepped out under my umbrella. By then, the driver had already gotten out to retrieve my luggage from the trunk and wheeled it over to me. 

Without using an umbrella himself, he pushed the luggage to my side and, with a meaningful expression, said, "Miss, the road ahead is long and uncertain. Take care of yourself." Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and jogged back to his car. 

For reasons I couldn't explain—perhaps because it had been so long since I felt such kindness—I felt a sting of emotion, and my eyes grew damp. 

After he left, I picked up my luggage and headed toward the station. The suitcase was light, and I carried it easily up a few steps before setting it down again. Inside the station, I noticed an elevator to my left and wheeled my luggage in that direction. Soon, the elevator arrived with a soft *ding*, its doors sliding open in front of me. 

As I stepped inside, an odd sensation washed over me, as if the station had suddenly emptied, leaving me alone. Shrugging off the thought, I entered the elevator, which was lined with mirrors on three sides. 

Pushing my luggage further in, I caught sight of my reflection—clearer and more vivid with every step. Pale lips, a face devoid of color, eyes clouded with melancholy, and a posture far from upright. I was 28, yet life seemed to have worn me down beyond my years. Ten years had passed since *that* event, and I had spent them drifting aimlessly, a shadow of my former self. 

As I stared, the mirror began to distort, rippling like water. Startled, I reached out with my right hand to touch its surface. What happened next was beyond comprehension—the mirror pulled me in. 

In a blink, I was transported into a peculiar space, a tunnel-like void. As I opened my eyes, I saw scenes playing out like a reel of memories—snapshots of him and me. From the moment we met, to my silent admiration from afar, to the unspoken love that ended without resolution, and finally, to his death. 

Each frame froze in time before fading into oblivion. Our brief years together played out like a dream slipping away, and I, futilely, tried to hold onto it. Suddenly, a piercing light engulfed me, and I began to lose consciousness. 

Amidst the disorienting noise in my head, I stirred, gradually awakening. When I opened my eyes, I found myself surrounded by familiar scenes—the lively chatter of classmates, the clamor of a high school classroom during recess, and English notes scrawled on the blackboard. 

I froze, overwhelmed as memories raced through my mind, questioning the reality of this moment. 

A nudge on my shoulder snapped me back. I looked up to see my high school friend, Bian Li. "You awake? Help me out here! You won't believe how much Wang Zixuan teased me while you were napping!" she said, her tone half-joking, half-exasperated. 

Still dazed, I noticed a girl seated nearby, watching us with a soft smile. It was Zhou Zi. Behind her, another girl, Yun Jing, adjusted her hair in a small mirror. These two, along with Bian Li, were my closest friends back then. None of them had any inkling of my secret unrequited love. 

Bian Li waved a hand in front of my face, concerned. "Shen Jia, are you okay?" Zhou Zi and Yun Jing quickly joined her, their voices filled with worry. 

"I'm fine," I managed with a smile. "Just had a nightmare." 

"Good to hear! Class is starting soon. Do you want to splash some water on your face?" they asked. I nodded, rising to join them. 

As we passed Wang Zixuan, Bian Li shot him a glare. "Wang Zixuan, shut your mouth for once!" 

He opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it, silenced by her sharp words. 

Walking beside my friends, I began to accept this peculiar turn of events. Somehow, I had returned to my high school days. 

For now, that was enough.