Chapter 1

Eight Minutes After Sunset

Lu Xuanqing (LuLu) / Text

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In the summer of 2020, Lan Youshi's "Lonely Thoughts" became a huge hit online after being covered.

As the evening sun painted half the sky red, Sang Sui refused the director's idea of ​​having his nephew go on a blind date with her.

The reason is that she doesn't want to be in a relationship right now.

After leaving the hospital, a sweltering breeze hit her, and she had a quick meal at a dumpling restaurant downstairs.

As her colleague Yang Ziqiao pulled out a chair and sat down in front of her, background music started playing in the restaurant.

As the music began to play, Sang Sui froze, completely out of control.

Yang Ziqiao noticed her reaction: "Have you heard this singer sing before?"

She shook her head and replied, "I don't know this singer, I've only heard this song before."

"This song only became popular recently after it was covered. You listened to the original version before, right?" Yang Ziqiao ate a dumpling: "The original version was released many years ago."

—The version she used to listen to.

Sang Sui blinked, her thoughts gradually drifting back to many years ago.

That was the school's cultural festival.

A young man, holding a guitar and wearing a simple white shirt, stood on the stage and sang softly.

She sat in the audience, holding her phone, listening to his song, and couldn't help but burst into tears.

It was early summer many years ago, but Sang Sui still remembers that scene very clearly.

Sang Sui said, "No, it was a classmate who sang it."

Yang Ziqiao gave a gossipy look: "Boyfriend, or your first love?"

A bitter feeling welled up in Sang Sui's heart: "He's just a classmate from the next class."

Not to mention a boyfriend, she barely spoke more than a few words to him throughout her entire youth.

Yang Ziqiao: "How could you remember an ordinary male classmate for so many years? I've completely forgotten who my high school classmates were."

After all, he was the boy who captivated her throughout her youth; how could she forget him so easily?

Sang Sui didn't speak, but turned his head to look at the sky outside the window, where the distant sky was a deep blue.

She saw this statement somewhere—

The 20 minutes after sunset are generally referred to as the blues hour.

When the sun is between -4 and -6 degrees below the horizon, the whole world will be dyed blue.

Sang Sui had never seen Liang Fengshen during a romantic blues moment.

Because at that time she was just a coward.

In high school, the classmates watched a sunset together in the corridor, but she only dared to secretly watch his back for eight minutes.

Sang Sui first met Liang Fengshen on a green train in the spring of 2013.

She was standing at the entrance of the train station in the small county town of Linchuan. The spring breeze still carried a lingering chill, lifting the wispy bangs on her forehead.

Grandma Mo Luying's withered hands tightly gripped her fingertips, stroking them again and again, as if this would keep her granddaughter, who was about to leave, by her side.

"Call home as soon as you get there, don't skimp on the phone bill." Mo Luying's voice was a little hoarse, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes were deeper than last year. "If your dad says anything to you, just let it go in one ear and out the other, don't talk back to him, understand?"

Sang Sui nodded.

Mo Luying was worried about her going on a long trip alone, and couldn't help but nag her a few more times.

She watched as her grandmother's gray hair trembled slightly in the wind, and suddenly her throat tightened, only able to let out a soft "hmm".

“Eat these cakes on the road. You won’t be able to find this taste when you get to Rongcheng.” Mo Luying stuffed another cloth bag into Sang Sui’s already bulging luggage bag. Inside were her favorite dried plum and vegetable cakes.

"Grandma, I will come back to see you often," Sang Sui finally managed to say, her voice so soft it was almost carried away by the wind.

With tears welling up in her eyes, Mo Luying waved her hand and said, "Don't keep coming back; the tickets are expensive. Study hard over there, get into a good university, and find a good job."

The station's public address system announced that passengers should proceed to the station.

Sang Sui bit her lower lip, picked up the large and small bags of luggage from the ground, turned around and walked into the station.

Sang Sui spent her entire childhood in the small county town of Linchuan. In the early 1990s, the wave of people going into business was in full swing, and her parents responded to the call and left Linchuan for Rongcheng to do business. She stayed in the countryside to live with her grandmother until she was fifteen years old and entered high school, at which point her parents decided to bring her back to Rongcheng to live with them.

She didn't want to leave Linchuan, where she had lived since childhood, but her grandmother insisted on sending her away, since the education in Linchuan was incomparable to that in Rongcheng. Sang Sui had been well-behaved and intelligent since childhood, and her teachers had said more than once that she shouldn't be confined to a small county town; her grandmother didn't want her to be held back.

So in the spring of her first year of high school, she transferred to a school in Rongcheng.

The green train looked like it had stepped out of an old movie; its exterior was worn and the paint was peeling. The air inside the carriage was thick and stuffy, mixed with instant noodles, sweat, and some indescribable pungent smell.

Sang Sui found her seat, struggled to stuff her luggage onto the overhead rack, leaving only a bag containing cakes made by her grandmother in her arms.

The train slowly started moving, and the rice paddies outside the window rushed by. Sang Sui felt an urge to cry; she wasn't used to traveling far.

Just a few hours earlier, she had gotten off a bumpy bus, feeling completely exhausted and incredibly sleepy. She didn't have much time for sentimentality, so she put on her headphones to block out the noise on the train, leaned back in the somewhat hard seat, and slowly closed her eyes.

Sleep came quickly and deeply. Sang Sui soon dreamed of the two large pomegranate trees in front of her house, of fields of rapeseed flowers, and of her and her grandmother drying mugwort in the yard.

Perhaps the dream was too beautiful.

She didn't want to wake up.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she felt someone gently shake her shoulder, and a fresh lemon scent pierced through the stuffy air in the carriage and entered her nostrils.

The taste was like a cool breeze on a summer day, awakening her dormant senses.

Sang Sui slowly opened her eyes, and in that instant, she met a pair of extremely beautiful eyes.

It's a boy.

Sang Sui was stunned for a moment before realizing that she had fallen asleep on the shoulder of the boy sitting next to her. She sat up abruptly, her cheeks instantly burning.

Realizing that the other person seemed to be talking to her, she took off the earphone in her left ear.

"I'm getting off at the next stop, so I had to wake you up." The boy's voice was gentle; he was simply stating a fact, without a trace of displeasure in his tone.

Sang Sui then fully woke up and hurriedly sat up, saying, "I'm sorry, I was sleeping too soundly."

The boy shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips: "It's okay."

His eyes were very beautiful, with deep double eyelid creases and slightly upturned corners. His eyes appeared particularly calm in the dim light of the carriage.

Sang Sui noticed that he was wearing a simple white shirt, with the top button undone at the collar, revealing his prominent collarbone.

"You also got off in Rongcheng, right?" he suddenly asked, his voice like a gentle afternoon stream, unhurried and calm.

Sang Sui was somewhat surprised: "How did you know?"

“While you were asleep, the ticket slipped out of your pocket.” He pointed to the crumpled paper ticket on the edge of her seat, his tone devoid of any voyeuristic intent, merely a simple reminder.

Sang Sui hurriedly put away her train ticket, her cheeks burning even more. She glanced at her phone; the train was about to arrive at Rongcheng Station. She had been sleeping so soundly that she hadn't even heard the arrival announcement.

The train slowly slowed down, and the two large characters "榕城" (Rongcheng) on ​​the platform gradually became clear. A commotion immediately broke out in the carriages as people got up to retrieve their luggage, and the crowded aisles instantly became congested.

Sang Sui tiptoed, trying to take down the largest package on the shelf—it contained special Linchuan products that her grandmother had made by hand. But it was even more difficult to take it down, as it was hard to control the point of force.

"Let me do it." The boy easily helped her take down her luggage, and the lemon scent once again wafted to her nose.

"Thank you—" Before she could finish speaking, he had already taken her luggage down, smiled at her, and turned to get out of the car.

Sang Sui was stunned for a moment before hurriedly picking up all the luggage and struggling to move towards the car door.

Stepping out of the train carriage, the humid air of Fuzhou hit her face. Unlike the dryness of Linchuan, spring here was full of moisture, making even breathing feel soft. Dragging her luggage, she walked step by step towards the exit, where she could see her parents waiting in the distance.

"Why are you so slow? Everyone's almost gone." Tan Huiyu frowned and looked her over. "Didn't I tell you not to bring any random stuff? What can't you buy in Rongcheng?"

Sang Zhiyuan picked up the bundle containing the large cotton quilt, shook his head and sighed, "Such a big quilt takes up so much space. There's heating in the city, so we don't need this."

Sang Sui didn't refute, but listened silently. These were all specially made by her grandmother before she left. Neither the dried plum and vegetable cakes nor the cotton quilt were "worthless things".

The family walked towards the station exit, with Sang Sui following behind her parents with heavy steps.

Just as they were about to leave the station square, she caught a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye.

The streets of Fuzhou are lined with camphor trees, their new leaves just sprouting, a tender green tinged with yellow.

The boy in the white shirt stood not far away, the setting sun casting a golden glow on his silhouette. His slender, upright figure resembled a poplar tree on a distant mountain. A boy of similar age waved at him and called out loudly, "Liang Feng!"

The name "Liang Feng" drifted clearly into her ears on the early spring breeze.

She silently repeated the name in her heart, her tongue gently touching the roof of her mouth and then slowly falling back down, completing a silent call.

It turns out his name is "liangfeng", but we don't know which two characters it is.

She turned her head and saw him smiling as he walked towards his friends, his back straight as a newly sprouted poplar in spring. Just then, Fang Datong's "Special Person" started playing in her headphones, the male voice gently singing:

If you can only love one person for one day

Let time rewind every moment.

Life is full of possibilities.

You are the special person I'm meant to meet.

A spring breeze swept by, stirring up fallen petals and seemingly bringing with it the distinct scent of lemon from the train.

Life is full of possibilities.

Looking at the boy not far away, Sang Sui seemed to suddenly understand the meaning of the lyrics.

Finally, Tan Huiyu's urging voice interrupted her daze: "Sui Sui, what are you daydreaming about? Hurry up, your dad's car is parked outside, he's going to get a ticket."

Sang Sui took one last look in the direction where Liang Feng had disappeared, then turned and followed her parents.

There are too many chance encounters between people.

She estimated that she would never have the chance to meet him again, but she couldn't help feeling a little regretful.

Even though she and he only met once.

On the way to her parents' apartment, Sang Sui silently watched the street scenes rushing past the window. The buildings in Rongcheng were much taller than those in Linchuan, and the streets were wider. Pedestrians hurried along, lacking the leisurely pace of a small county town. Everything felt so unfamiliar that she felt somewhat lost.

"Your school has been arranged. You'll be reporting for duty next Monday," Tan Huiyu said, turning around from the front seat. "Rongcheng No. 1 High School is a provincial key high school, so you'd better hurry up and not fall behind."

Sang Zhiyuan chimed in, "How can the education level in a small county compare to here? If you can't keep up, we'll find you a tutor."

Sang Sui simply hummed in agreement and continued looking out the window. She thought of the classrooms at Linchuan No. 1 Middle School; although the facilities were old, one could see the distant, rolling mountains from the windows. In spring, the mountain peach blossoms bloomed into a pink cloud, and when the wind blew, the petals would drift into the classrooms.

Now, all I see outside the window are towering buildings whose tops I can't see.

Back in their home in Rongcheng, Sang Sui followed silently behind her parents. Everything here was still unfamiliar to her; the spacious living room was clean and tidy, much larger than their house in the countryside of Linchuan.

"Your room is here." Tan Huiyu pushed open a door. "It used to be a study, I just tidied it up a bit for you."

Sang nodded and carried her luggage inside. The room wasn't large, but it was clean enough. It was much better than the place she had stayed before.

She was sorting through the odds and ends she had brought from Linchuan when the door to the next room opened.

A boy, about ten years old, peeked out. He was dressed fashionably and had the typical indifferent expression of his age. This was her younger brother, Sang Chi. Although they were siblings, they had only seen each other a few times during the Lunar New Year each year, and were barely more familiar with each other than strangers.

Sang Sui hesitated for a moment, then spoke first, her voice a little hoarse: "Xiao Chi."

Sang Chi's gaze swept over her without lingering, as if he hadn't heard her. He walked straight to the living room, picked up the tablet computer on the table, put on his headphones, and sank into the sofa, isolating himself from the outside world.

Sang Sui pursed her lips, stopped trying to communicate, and turned to continue packing her things.

The atmosphere was somber during dinner.

Sang Sui gave brief answers to her parents' questions about school.

Sang Chi kept his head down and ate, occasionally swiping a few times on his learning tablet screen, completely ignoring the conversation at the table.

Sang Zhiyuan also put the dried plum and vegetable cakes that his attendant from Linchuan had brought on the table, since they had come from a long way and it was not good to waste food.

"What is this?" Sang Chi rarely saw such a thing, and unusually took the initiative to speak, with a hint of curiosity.

"Grandma made preserved vegetable pancakes," Sang Sui replied.

Sang Chi reached out and took one, examined it, broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth. After only a couple of chews, his brows furrowed tightly, and his face showed undisguised disgust. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he threw the remaining half of the pancake directly into the trash can next to him.

Sang Chi frowned: "What does this taste like? It's dry and hard, it's awful."

In that instant, Sang Sui felt something burning up in her chest. "How could you waste food like that? Grandma made this especially for you!"

Sang Chi was startled by her reaction, then turned his face away and muttered, "Can't we just throw it away if it doesn't taste good?"

“Sui Sui, it’s just a pancake.” Tan Huiyu immediately smoothed things over, her tone as gentle as ever. “Xiao Chi doesn’t like this kind of food.”

Sang Sui didn't speak again, seemingly used to her parents always siding with her younger brother. She silently stood up, the chair legs scraping against the floor with a soft sound. She looked away from everyone, turned and walked straight back to her room, gently closing the door behind her.

After a while, the door was gently pushed open. Her mother came in and sat down beside her.

"Are you still angry?" Tan Huiyu's voice softened a bit. "Your younger brother is young and we've spoiled him. Don't take it to heart."

Sang Sui lowered his head and did not respond.

Tan Huiyu sighed, her tone becoming impatient: "Sang Sui, why are you so temperamental? You're getting angry with your brother over a piece of cake? And look at your clothes, they're so worn out. Tomorrow, Mom will take you to buy some new ones. Don't be angry."

Sang Sui looked down and saw the slightly faded dress she was wearing. She nodded perfunctorily, unwilling to talk any further.

After Tan Huiyu left, she opened the window, and the early spring breeze gently stirred the curtains.

The nights in Rongcheng are much brighter than in Linchuan; you can't see the stars, only the neon lights that dye the sky orange-red.

She put on her headphones and listened to music.

I have a feeling of unease in my heart.

At first, she genuinely believed that her parents loved her, but the love was made more profound by their differences.

Because of the comparison with Sang Chi.

Sang Sui realized that love and not love are really obvious.

Sang Sui, Sang Sui.

It was just a casual thing.