Old Perkins’s eyes grew misty as he reminisced.

“Back then… sigh…”

“You all should have had bright futures.”

I understood what Old Perkins meant.

That year, as the college entrance exam reform approached, we students who had relied on rote practice were overwhelmed by the new types of questions.

I comforted Old Perkins, reminding him that everyone has their own fate.

After all, no one can predict what tomorrow will bring.

Just like eighteen-year-old Archer could not foresee that at twenty-eight he would fall in love with someone else.

The once young and vibrant Old Perkins had now become a cheerful old man.

He no longer taught but had become...