eaves

The day we returned to Suyi from Lin'an, the sun was shining brightly. Luo Yan sat in the passenger seat, watching Qi Sheng stuff her suitcase into the trunk.

"The plum blossom pastries Auntie gave me are in the back seat." He closed the car door, still feeling the warmth of the chicken soup.

Luo Yan nodded, her fingertips touching the silver bookmark in her pocket, its edges warm from her body heat. On the return trip, the snow stopped falling on the highway; a thin layer of frost covered the fields outside the car window, like a sprinkle of salt. Qi Sheng drove, occasionally glancing at her.

The car radio was playing a soothing piano piece, like the air between them—quiet yet not awkward. Luo Yan recalled that last evening in Lin'an, when he brushed the snowflakes from her shoulders, the warmth of his fingertips passing through the scarf like an unspoken promise.

When Luo Yan returned to Su Yi, the campus was deserted on the weekend, with only a few wintersweet blossoms still in bloom in front of the library, their fragrance even more refreshing than that of Lin'an. Luo Yan dragged her luggage back to the dormitory, and Zhang Qi, holding a laptop, poked her head out from the opposite bed: "Hey, our busy person is back."

Luo Yan joked with her for a bit, then she turned on her computer. In her inbox lay an email from Qi Sheng with the subject "Photos of the Winter Plum Garden." The attachment contained more than a dozen profile pictures of her against a backdrop of golden winter plum blossoms, with the snow falling on her hair like scattered starlight.

After the New Year, Luo Yan was busy improving the system's winter adaptation module, while Qi Sheng was preparing his graduate thesis. Occasionally, he would bring over a printed copy, sit in the chair next to her to make revisions, and the rustling sound of the pen tip gliding across the paper mixed with the sound of her typing on the keyboard, like a regular duet.

"My defense is next Wednesday," he suddenly said, twirling the silver metal pen in his hand, the tennis ball pattern on the cap gleaming under the light. "I'll treat you to dinner afterward."

“Okay,” Luo Yan typed the last line of code, then turned to look at him. “What do you want to eat?”

"You decide." His gaze fell on her screen. "The system's implementation report at the sports school—shall we submit it together after the defense?"

It sounded like they were talking about a project, but it also sounded like they were talking about something else. Luo Yan felt lightheaded and nodded, saying, "Either is fine."

Qi Sheng's defense went smoothly. Luo Yan sat in the back row of the audience, watching him stand on the podium, wearing a dark suit, holding a laser pointer, and explaining clearly and logically. When he mentioned technical details, he would subconsciously glance in her direction, as if confirming something. When their eyes met, he would nod slightly, as if exchanging a silent signal.

After the event, Zhang Qi nudged Luo Yan's arm and winked, saying, "Look at the way Qi Sheng looks at you, tsk tsk, he's more serious than when he's looking at his thesis."

Luo Yan's ears burned, and she was about to retort when she saw Qi Sheng walk over, his suit jacket draped over his arm, the top two buttons of his white shirt undone, exuding a relaxed air as if he had just been relieved of a heavy burden. "Six o'clock tonight, the one near the east gate of the school," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "I've made a reservation."

The private dining room was warm and inviting, with a traditional Chinese ink painting of landscapes hanging on the wall, resembling the winter plum blossoms at the entrance of Lin'an alley. Among the dishes Qi Sheng ordered was sweet and sour pork ribs, with a thick, rich sauce that tasted about 70% similar to Ren Qin's. He placed a piece in her bowl and said softly, "Auntie said you like them with a slightly charred edge."

It turned out that back in Lin'an, he had secretly asked Ren Qin for recipes. She was gnawing on her ribs when she heard him talk about his plans after graduation: "The sports school gave me an offer to be in charge of technical guidance for youth training and to help implement the system."

"Stay in Su Yi?"

“Yes,” he nodded, his gaze falling on her face, “I rented a two-bedroom apartment near the school, close to the lab and the sports school.”

Luo Yan paused with her chopsticks: "It's fine."

"What about you?" he suddenly asked. "You're moving dorms at the end of your junior year. Have you decided where you're going?"

The school's dormitory rules state that undergraduates must move from four-person rooms to six-person rooms by the end of their third year, as these rooms are crowded and noisy. Luo Yan was indeed worried, but she hadn't expected him to remember. "Not yet..."

“The second bedroom in the apartment I rent is empty,” he said softly, as if afraid of disturbing something. “If you don’t mind, you can move in. It’s close to the lab, and it’ll be quiet for coding at night.”

The sky outside the window darkened, and the light in the private room fell on his face, half bright and half dim, as if hiding hesitation and expectation. Luo Yan recalled that in the plum garden in Lin'an, he said, "I'm afraid my movements won't be standard and your system will misjudge me." This seemingly calm man also had moments of caution.

"How much is the rent?" She looked up, her expression serious, as if she were discussing system parameters.

Qi Sheng smiled, his eyes as soft as melting snow: "No need to calculate so precisely. Just check the system backend for me and use it to offset the rent."

Moving day was a Saturday. Zhang Qi and a few classmates came to help move Luo Yan's books to Qi Sheng's rented apartment. As the apartment was being tidied up, the setting sun shone through the balcony window, casting long patches of light on the floor. On the bookshelf in the second bedroom were Luo Yan's professional books and art albums, with the silver bookmark on the top shelf, next to Qi Sheng's provincial competition commemorative badge.

"The kitchen seasonings," Qi Sheng brought over two glasses of warm water, "are the wintersweet powder that Auntie sent. I've put it on the second shelf of the cupboard. You can use it anytime you want to make shortbread."

Luo Yan took the water glass, her fingertips touching the back of his hand, warm like when she was debugging equipment in the lab, with a reassuring warmth. On the sofa in the living room was a cushion he had just bought, off-white, exactly the same as the one in her dorm.

Living together is like a precisely functioning system; there are no grand ceremonies, but a deep and enduring understanding.

Qi Sheng gets up at seven o'clock every morning to lead early training at the sports school. Before leaving, he fills Luo Yan's mug with hot water and places it next to her desk. Luo Yan is used to staying up late to write code, and she often hears him tiptoeing into the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. The next morning, she will find fresh milk in the refrigerator.

They rarely cooked together, yet they always bumped into each other at dinner. He brought back braised duck from the sports school cafeteria, and she brought back roasted sweet potatoes from the lab; they placed them on the table, like a silent sharing. Once, Luo Yan was debugging code late into the night when the living room light suddenly came on, and Qi Sheng stood in the doorway in his pajamas, holding a cup of hot cocoa.

The hot cocoa was just the right amount of sweetness, like the one he bought in Su Yi.

One evening in May, Luo Yan returned from the library and saw Qi Sheng sitting on the living room carpet with a sports school training plan spread out in front of him and her system analysis report next to him. "Look here," he said, pointing to the "backhand hitting training volume" on the form, "wouldn't it be more reasonable to add 15 minutes every day according to the threshold given by the system?"

Luo Yan squatted down next to him, her fingertips tracing the curves on the report: "A teenager's muscle endurance might not be enough, reduce it by 5 minutes."

He nodded, making corrections on the form with his pencil. Luo Yan's gaze fell on his wrist. In the plum garden of Lin'an, he plucked the petals from her hair, the warmth of his fingertips passing through her hair like a gentle electric current.

“There’s a friendly match at the sports school this weekend,” Qi Sheng suddenly said, his pen pausing on the paper. “Lele is coming too, she said she wants you to see her new serve.”

“Great!” Luo Yan said with a smile, the corners of her eyes curving as if kissed by the setting sun. “Perfect timing to take the system to do summer parameter testing.”

Qi Sheng looked up, his gaze falling on her face. The living room light cast tiny spots of light in his pupils, like fallen stars. He didn't speak, but simply reached out and brushed a fallen leaf from her shoulder—it had gotten on her when she came back from the library, very light, yet he had noticed it carefully.

The shadows of the camphor trees outside the window swayed gently on the floor in the breeze. Luo Yan watched Qi Sheng's profile as he bent over revising a form, and suddenly realized that true love is never about grand declarations or ceremonies, but rather something like this—

It's a cup of hot cocoa shared under the eaves, two desk lamps placed side by side on the desk, and the parameters from her system report printed on his training schedule; it's a new profile of him watching a game in her sketchbook, his brushstrokes much more skillful than in high school, yet still retaining that same careful concern from back then.

As night deepened, Qi Sheng got up to go to the kitchen to get some water. Passing by the bookshelf, he casually pulled out Luo Yan's sketchbook and turned to the latest page. It depicted a small tennis court, with the setting sun's rays filtering through the net and casting shadows on the ground like harp strings. In the corner, two figures stood side by side, one in sportswear and the other holding a laptop, perfectly capturing their current state.

His fingertips lightly brushed across the drawing paper, and the corners of his mouth curved into a very shallow smile, as if he were telling a secret that only he knew.

The living room lights stayed on all night. In the kitchen refrigerator, there were freshly bought strawberries, Luo Yan's favorite. On the bookshelf, next to his graduation thesis, was her final version of the system on CD, labeled "V3.0 - in cooperation with QS".

There was no confession, no promise, yet it declared more clearly than any words—

Their story, built on daily understanding, has long since matured into a steadfast and peaceful one. Like the temperature under this eaves, it's not scorching, but warm enough to withstand all the storms to come.

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting dappled patterns of light on the floor. When Luo Yan opened her eyes, there was already a slight noise coming from the living room—Qi Sheng was heating milk, and the microwave made a soft "ding," like pressing the start button for a new day.

She slipped on her slippers and walked out of the bedroom. She saw him arranging freshly toasted bread on a plate, with two fresh wintersweet blossoms on the edge of the plate. They were picked from a small flowerpot on the balcony, their tender yellow petals glistening with dew.

“The sports school’s morning training has been moved to nine o’clock,” he looked up at her, his eyes filled with the gentleness of someone just waking up, “so you can sleep a little longer.”

Luo Yan shook her head, walked to her desk, and turned on her computer. The screen was still displaying the system's summer update. Qi Sheng placed the milk beside her and tapped the keyboard with his fingertips: "The 'teenager activity fatigue warning' we talked about yesterday, are the parameters adjusted?"

“Hmm,” she said, pulling up the data curve. “We’ve added heart rate linkage; it will automatically remind you to rest if your heart rate exceeds 120 beats per minute.”

He leaned over to look at the screen, his hair brushing against her ear, carrying a hint of minty shampoo scent. Outside the window, the camphor trees were already lush and leafy; amidst the cicadas' chirping, the sound of tennis balls being struck could be heard in the distance, crisp and clear like ice cubes colliding.

“Bring some strawberries when you come back tonight,” Luo Yan suddenly said, her eyes still glued to the screen. “The kind I bought last time, they’re sweet.”

"Okay." Qi Sheng replied, picked up his briefcase and walked towards the door. As he passed the bookshelf, he glanced at the picture book on the shelf again, and then gently closed the door.

The sound of balls hitting the ball rang out again in the distance. Luo Yan typed the last semicolon and saved the file. When she saw the time in the lower right corner, a system prompt automatically popped up: "Today is suitable for outdoor collection. Partner QS is ready."

She looked at the sunlight outside the window and nodded gently.

Their time together is long. But right now, the aroma of coffee, the sound of coding, and the spare key he left in the entryway before he left are the best possible ending.