The Weight of a Promise

“Ye… Ye Hao, I… I like you. I’ve liked you for a very long time. Would you… would you be my boyfriend?”

“I…”

***

Ye Hao was an outstanding student at Ziyang High School, beloved by both classmates and teachers—the kind of kid everyone else envied.

But even as a model student, he had endured tragedies that could bring tears to the toughest guy’s eyes.

Three years ago, just as he started high school, a car accident claimed his father—the family’s pillar—on his birthday.

His mother, learning of her husband’s permanent departure, held the shattered home together with her love and care, enduring unimaginable pain.

Sadly, fate seemed to conspire against him.

Last year, worn down by exhaustion, she succumbed to an incurable illness and left him forever.

In her final moments, her eyes brimmed with maternal love, revealing her deep worry and helplessness for her child.

He could never forget the words she spoke before closing her eyes.

“Mom hopes our little Hao can get into a good university and live a good life someday. I’m sorry, little Hao. Mom might not live to see that day. I’m sorry…”

From that day on, studying became his everything.

The once unremarkable boy shot up like bamboo after rain, channeling all his energy into his studies.

With relentless effort, he finally achieved results that satisfied him: first place in the entire school, leaving the former top beauty scholar far behind and claiming the throne for himself.

In his growing obsession with learning, he hadn’t had a proper meal in ages.

When hunger struck, he’d grab bread to tide him over; when thirsty, he’d drink from the public water dispenser at the back of the classroom.

One day, as usual, while buried in problems and munching on bread, a light blue box appeared before his eyes, filled with text and numbers.

“Um, Ye Hao, this is the lunch I prepared for you. If you don’t mind, please don’t eat bread anymore. How about I make you bento from now on?”

“Thank you, but I’ll stick with bread. Thanks for the kind offer.”

No merits without effort—he wouldn’t accept anything from someone he barely knew. That was his principle, the way he lived.

From then on, at every mealtime, the girl appeared like a punctual alarm clock, bringing him bento as always.

Though he politely refused each time, she persisted day after day, undeterred.

Until one day, lost in a tough problem and forgetting the time, he missed the chance to buy bread from the school shop.

That meant he’d go hungry for the rest of the afternoon.

As he dove back into his study mode, that all-too-familiar bento appeared before him again.

The girl’s gentle smile, the light blue box—unchanged.

“Ye Hao, there are still many classes this afternoon, so please eat it all.”

“Why?”

Before she could finish, Ye Hao interrupted her.

Why would a stranger treat him so kindly, day in and day out, without tiring of it?

His emotional IQ was zero, and it baffled him completely.

“What?”

His question caught her off guard, and she echoed it back in confusion.

“Why are you so good to me?”

“No reason. If I have to answer… because I like you~”

That very day, he finally set down his pen and took the chopsticks she offered.

“Is it good?”

Watching him devour it, the girl let out a crisp, bell-like laugh.

“It’s delicious.”

It was leagues better than his haphazard dark cooking experiments.

After that first time, Ye Hao gradually opened up.

He’d polish off her bentos every day, and she learned his tastes—especially his favorite: meatballs.

Of course, with his macho pride, Ye Hao couldn’t just mooch off her.

The only thing he had to offer was his grades and knowledge.

So, upon learning they lived in the same direction, he found his way to repay her: tutoring sessions.

Perhaps it was familiarity breeding affection, but the girl’s feelings for him deepened from like to love.

With only two months until the college entrance exam, she finally took her first step and confessed to him.

That afternoon after school, she invited Ye Hao to the rooftop of the teaching building.

“Ye Hao, I like you. I’ve always liked you—the way you look so focused when you study, your straightforward and refreshing way of doing things. I like you. I’ve always liked you!”

At that moment, the sun’s face was a vivid red.

Its light, as if stolen away by someone, no longer dazzled harshly but glowed soft and bright.

It retreated slowly to the west, like a graceful girl—gentle, serene, warm, and romantic.

Faced with the girl’s eager anticipation for his answer, Ye Hao felt like he stood at a crossroads of choices.

After a while.

He looked up at her.

“I’m sorry. I can’t accept your confession. We’re at a critical point in our studies. We can’t risk our futures like this. We each have our own paths. Thank you for taking care of me all this time. No more bentos from now on. If you need help with studies, come find me anytime.”

With that, Ye Hao turned and walked straight away from the place.

He couldn’t bring happiness to others, couldn’t gamble with someone else’s future, and above all, couldn’t betray his mother’s hopes for him.

It seemed he’d go back to nibbling bread alone, just like before.

Though it stung a little, a faint smile crossed his face—a smile of relief.

Watching Ye Hao leave without looking back, the girl bit her lower lip hard.

Her clenched fist seemed ready to dig her nails into her tender skin.

Her heart overflowed with unwillingness and disbelief.

She shouted his name at his retreating back.

That cry drained all her strength, and she collapsed weakly to the ground.

Tears traced paths down her delicate face, one drop after another.

She didn’t understand why Ye Hao would reject her.

She didn’t understand why the boy who’d grown so close to her would turn her down.

She didn’t understand. She just didn’t.

“Why…”

Before her eyes, scenes of their time together replayed like a movie.

That unusual midday, when the boy set down his pen and wolfed down the bento she’d made with her own hands…