In middle school, I was famous for always being the top student, so many students knew me, but I didn’t know them. There was a boy who was one year younger than me, and when he entered Grade 9, I had already graduated. I had been recruited by a Normal school, which was a big event in my hometown, and I was admired by people. Grade 9 was an important year, and its term started in the summer when new books were not yet distributed, so the students borrowed books from the graduates. When that boy’s father came to borrow my books, I wasn’t home, but my father lent the books to him.

A few years later, that boy became a doctor and opened a clinic next to the school where I was teaching. My colleague and I visited him once, and he was a shy boy with a round and smiling face.

About a week ago, he heard about me from my brother (they were once classmates) and added me on WeChat. Today, he sent me a message inviting my family and me for supper. Before going to the dinner, I had imagined a small gathering with him, my brother, my brother’s friend, and me, sitting in a cozy room, eating and reminiscing about our middle school life. That would have been fun. However, when we entered the room, there were more than 20 people, and all of them were his relatives. He had become a mature and successful man, a millionaire with a clinic and several supermarkets. He was no longer shy but talkative. He kept expressing his gratitude to me for lending him my books, but he seemed to have forgotten that we had seen each other at his newly opened clinic.

I don’t know why he invited his relatives to join us for a big supper. Perhaps it was a good opportunity for him to show his gratitude to his friends, or maybe he was excited to introduce my husband and mother-in-law, as their foreign faces were quite rare in the city. Regardless, the food was excellent, and everyone spoke modestly and warmly welcomed my family and me.

After dinner, my middle school classmates invited me to join them for a get-together. There were two girls and one boy. We ordered roasted fish, which happened to be one of my favorite dishes. The fish was cooked with potatoes, onions, radishes, and coriander, and it was tender and flavorful. We enjoyed some beers as well. One of the girls was divorced and dating a man who was nine years younger than her, and he had not divorced his wife. She had three kids, and he had three as well. She knew that having an affair was wrong and had attempted to break up with him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She loved him but had no plans to marry him because if they did, they would have a total of six kids, and to strengthen their relationship, they might even have one more child, making it a seventh. According to her, that would be a disaster. It was a difficult situation, and though we tried to persuade her to end the affair, she confessed that she felt heartbroken every time she tried to break up with him. We didn’t know what else to say. Love can be incredibly complicated.

Compared to other places, my hometown city of Jinsha is considered very fashionable. My classmates told me that divorces and affairs are quite common among young couples. Something seems to be amiss with the people there—perhaps they are too lonely, too isolated, too focused on appearances, or too simplistic in their pursuit of true love. No one could provide a definitive explanation, and I am equally puzzled.

I was intoxicated. When I arrived back at the hotel, my husband greeted me at the door, and it was the first time I had left my son to sleep with his dad. I couldn’t help but feel guilty.