Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph

Those who've spent time at Starlight Medical College often reminisce about its distinctively beautiful campus.

Especially in spring and summer, the grounds burst with colorful flowers, their fragrance permeating the air with refreshing sweetness.

The cherry blossom garden stood as one of the medical school's renowned attractions. During bloom season, the campus opened to the public, drawing admirers from far and wide.

Now, at peak bloom, the trees were magnificent-clouds of delicate pink blossoms swaying gently. When the breeze stirred, petals showered down like snow, creating a scene of perfect romance.

Jason paused while passing through the garden, unable to resist capturing a few photos on his phone.

A camera click behind him caught his attention. Turning around, he discovered a young woman aiming her phone directly at him.

Caught in the act, she lowered her phone with an embarrassed smile. "Mr. Foster!" Jason, dressed in a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and black trousers, held a textbook in one hand and his phone in the other.

"Were you... photographing the blossoms too?" he asked with a gentle smile.

The student hid her camera behind her back, blushing as she stepped backward. "No, I wasn't taking any pictures. Mr. Foster, I need to get to class. Goodbye!" She turned and hurried away.

Jason watched her ponytail swing as she ran, the very picture of youthful energy.

His colleagues often joked that Jason could easily pass for a student himself. But Jason felt old-not physically, but in spirit.

There was truth to the saying that one was getting old when one spent more time reminiscing about the past.

Walking through the cherry blossom garden toward the academic building, he exchanged greetings with passing faculty and students.

A man of principle, Jason always arrived at his classroom five minutes early. Today, distracted by the blossoms, he reached the door just as the bell rang.

At least he wasn't late.

The classroom was already full. As he entered, the chatter immediately subsided.

Though generally conventional in his personal life, Jason had a knack for teaching. He incorporated real medical cases into his lectures, transforming dry medical theory into engaging content.

Consequently, no one ever missed his classes or arrived late or left early.

Female students, in particular, competed for front-row seats just to be closer to him.

As Jason approached the lectern and set down his book, he noticed a pink envelope

on the desk addressed in neat handwriting: [For Professor Foster.]

He could guess the contents-since joining the medical school, he'd received countless similar letters.

Looking up, he calmly surveyed the room.

The student from the cherry blossom garden was there, head down, avoiding his gaze.

Other female students appeared nervous, excited, or gleaming with curiosity.

Jason smiled faintly, set the letter aside, opened his textbook, and inserted his USB drive to begin the lecture.

Everyone listened attentively. The multimedia classroom was silent except for his voice and the sound of pages turning and pens scratching notes.

He appreciated this atmosphere-it helped him clear his mind of distractions and focus entirely on teaching.

"Mr. Foster, I like you!"

Just as the class was ending, a bold voice shattered the quiet.

The room erupted in whispers.

Jason, who had been explaining a slide, paused and turned toward the class.

In the center of the fourth row stood a young woman, now the focus of everyone's attention.

She was of average height with short hair and an androgynous style. Her brave expression and unwavering stance suggested someone unafraid to act on her feelings. The classroom was now buzzing with excitement.

Jason actually admired her courage.

If he had possessed such bravery in his past, perhaps his life would have turned out differently.

Seeing that Jason remained silent, some mischievous students, sensing potential drama, began to applaud.

The dismissal bell rang. Jason closed his book with a smile and said calmly, "School time is a limited resource once a class is over, that opportunity is gone. Given how precious this time is, I'd appreciate if we could all stay on topic and avoid discussions unrelated to our learning objectives during class."

After bidding the students goodbye, he took his book and left the classroom.

As he exited the building, someone called after him. "Mr. Foster!"

Jason stopped. The same student who had confessed during class ran up to him, breathless from hurrying.

"Mr. Foster, I want to know what kind of woman you like?" she asked.

She seemed confident, perhaps confused by his rejection.

Jason smiled gently and replied diplomatically, "You're not my type. Besides, your

priority right now should be your studies. Understand?"

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With that, he walked away, book in hand. He heard her begin to sob behind him but continued walking without looking back.

Back in his office, a male colleague approached, patting his shoulder teasingly. "I heard a student confessed to you in class today. What did I tell you? Have you considered dating someone seriously? It might help certain students who seem distracted by you to concentrate on their academics again."

Jason smiled but said nothing.

After his colleague left, he opened his drawer and took out a framed photograph.

It showed him and Emily as children, preserved by Martin for years. After Martin

passed away, Jason had kept this treasured memento.

Looking at the photo, Jason's thoughts drifted to the past.noveldrama

Emily had always been unhurried as a child, never rushing anything.

Every morning, he would wait impatiently downstairs, checking his watch repeatedly until she finally bounced down the stairs.

"Emily, couldn't you hurry up?" he would complain.

Emily would smile brightly and respond, "You don't have to wait for me, you know." Despite her words, she would climb onto the back of his bicycle.

As they pedaled away from Broadway Alley, his irritation would mysteriously vanish.

She always had that effect on him-her perpetual smile made it impossible to stay angry.

Looking back now, those daily rides to school represented a distant happiness.

He remembered a weekend when Emily's parents were away. He had spent his allowance treating her to pasta at a small restaurant.

She had meticulously picked out all the carrots from her dish, and he had quickly pushed his bowl toward her.

"If you don't like carrots, give them to me. I love them."

Emily had wrinkled her nose, blinking her long eyelashes in confusion. "You actually like these? How strange."

He had laughed, mouth full of pasta. "The strange one is anyone who doesn't like them!"

Walking back to Broadway Alley entrance afterward, Emily's hair tie had fallen out. After struggling to fix it herself, she had given up.

"Let me help," he had offered, taking the elastic from her hand to tie her hair.

Some neighborhood children had spotted them and started teasing loudly, "Jason likes Emily..."

If you're loving the book, nel5s.com is where the adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience all for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you! Emily, perhaps not fully understanding what "liking" someone meant but sensing it was inappropriate teasing, had chased after them. The children had run into Broadway Alley, continuing their chant.

It was the first time he had heard the concept of "liking" someone in that context, and it had stirred unfamiliar feelings within him.

Following them into the alley, he had suddenly noticed his mother watching from an upstairs window.

The children had been shouting so loudly that his mother must have heard everything. He had felt embarrassed, but she had simply smiled at him, as if understanding something he didn't yet comprehend.

"What are you staring at with that goofy smile? You look like a high school boy with a crush." His colleague's voice suddenly interrupted his memories. "Who's the girl? Your first love?"

Jason admitted frankly, "Yes, my first love."

His colleague leaned in, intrigued. "Judging by your expression, you still have feelings

for her, don't you? If your students knew you already have someone you like, they'd be heartbroken. With your popularity among women, couldn't you share some of that charm with me?"

Jason locked the photo back in his drawer, smiling. "Mr. Snyder, remember your position as a role model for students."

Mike Snyder dismissed this concern. "Teachers are human too-we all need love in our

lives. It's a basic human need, not something to be ashamed of."

After chatting a while longer, Jason's phone buzzed twice.

He checked it to find Emily posting vacation photos to their group chat.

There were solo pictures of her and couples photos with Ethan. In every image, her happiness radiated.

He recalled years ago when she had suddenly messaged him on Facebook announcing she was dating a doctor. He had been in the middle of a lecture at USC, and seeing the notification pop up had made him momentarily forget what he was saying.

At the time, he had believed Emily had found her perfect match and had tried to move on, accepting she deserved her own life. He never imagined the pain she would later endure.

When he learned of her divorce, his dormant feelings had reawakened. He had wanted to care for her, to never let go again, to ensure her happiness. But by the time he returned, she had already married Ethan-as if fate were deliberately toying with him. Though Ethan had caused her considerable pain, the storms had passed, and she had finally found happiness.

He was genuinely happy for her, even as he felt his own loneliness.

Now, he returned home alone each evening, cooked alone, watched television alone, and slept alone.

On nights when sleep eluded him, Jason would lie in bed scrolling through his phone

to pass the time.

At 9:30, he opened Facebook and saw that Lacey had posted just minutes earlier-a

photo of her shadow cast by a streetlight.

The caption read simply: [A solitary shadow!]

Jason rarely interacted with Lacey on Facebook, but something about her post

resonated with his current mood, so he liked it.

Within thirty seconds, a message from Lacey appeared in his inbox.