Throughout my three years of high school, it wasn’t as though I never thought about going back for a visit. But I would usually linger nearby for ages before slinking away again. (Alright, not really—I hardly went into the city to begin with.) Compared with the classmates who visited all the time, I appear to be somewhat lacking in gratitude.

—Kidding, of course. Seeing my teachers again after all these years, I found that they still called me by name the moment we met. A graduate’s favorite pastime is searching the whole school for traces they left behind. Naturally, we found none. Or perhaps they were everywhere?

One thing I can confirm: I am no match for these two at either volleyball or basketball.

I was actually rather nervous about today’s reunion. With the double buff of a large crowd and seeing my teachers, some topics were genuinely difficult to raise. Thankfully, the teachers understood and were willing to listen as I hurriedly shared the story of my last three years.

By now, my classmates have all entered university and begun the next stretch of their lives. I am following close behind.

Also: today the teachers said I sound more and more like Mr. Zhang (my dad) when I speak. Not sure whether that is good or bad.

One last amusing discovery: the three classmates here today were exactly the ones I used to bike home with. But at this grand reunion of the former middle-school cycling squad, one thing had changed: I was now the one who lived farthest away.