Academic Grandma

Suddenly, it was April.

Pan Qiu boarded the plane to Italy as planned. Outside the window, layers of clouds piled up, like an unmelted winter.

This was her first time traveling abroad alone to attend an international conference—without a teacher or any companions.

James will arrive a day later because he has classes.

As for Ethan, she had a vague feeling that he would come too—but no one told her, and there was no reason for her to ask.

Thus, the journey began with her solo adventure.

She booked the plane tickets, applied for the visa, printed the invitation letter, and repeatedly confirmed the hotel and train routes all by herself.

The plane landed at Milan Malpensa Airport a little after 1 p.m. She pushed her luggage through the crowded arrival hall.

Go to the automatic ticket machine to buy a train ticket from Milano Centrale to Bergamo.

The machine only accepted euro coins, and she panicked for a moment. The Italian guy next to her helped her operate it and even smiled at her.

Pan Qiu thanked her repeatedly, and the nervousness of being a "newcomer" in her heart finally dissipated a little.

The train slowly pulled away from Milan Central Station, with rows of residential areas and faded clotheslines visible outside the window.

As the train passed Monza, Carnate-Usmate, and Ponte San Pietro—each stop made her heart clench.

They were afraid of not understanding the broadcast or missing the stop.

She stared at the little blue dot on Google Maps, checking it almost every five minutes.

She finally breathed a sigh of relief when the navigation finally displayed "Bergamo".

When the train stopped at Bergamo station, it was nearly evening.

The station wasn't large; its beige exterior was tinged with a gentle orange by the sunset.

The air is filled with the fragrance of grass and trees, and a faint, damp, ancient feel.

She dragged her luggage out of the station—before her stood a row of small buildings, cafes, and old-fashioned motorcycles parked on the street.

The shadows on the distant hillside were layered with golden light, and at that moment, she felt as if she had truly arrived in the world depicted on the postcard.

Following the instructions on the conference website, she found the small hotel in the downtown area called Hotel Cappello d'Oro.

The entrance was paved with cobblestones, and the receptionist was a middle-aged woman with a gentle smile, speaking English with a strong Italian accent.

During check-in, they asked her, "Twin or double?"

Pan Qiu was stunned for a moment before realizing that she had booked a double room for sharing.

Her roommate hadn't arrived yet.

The room wasn't big, and when you pushed the door open, you could smell a faint lemon scent of cleaning solution.

The bed was narrow, and outside the window was a corner café.

The wind rustled the iron letters on the sign, making them clang.

She sat on the edge of the bed and took off her coat.

For the first time, I felt a sense of both unfamiliarity and lightness.

She really came to the other side of the world alone.

A little later, the doorbell rang.

Her temporary roommate arrived—a Black girl with a hearty laugh.

She introduced herself as Sophia Johnson, from Carnegie Mellon University.

I am conducting doctoral research in human-computer interaction.

She dragged a large orange suitcase, exclaiming, "We're finally here!" as she asked Panqiu if she wanted to go out for dinner.

Pan Qiu smiled and waved her hand, saying that she hadn't adjusted to the time difference yet.

Sophia nodded and placed the computer on the bed.

Somehow, the two started chatting—from academic papers to cultural differences.

They then discussed their respective mentors' "unique survival skills".

Sophia's smile was bright and genuine: "My advisor likes to send emails at 3 a.m., what about you?"

Panqiu thought for a moment and then smiled: "My supervisor likes to revise papers until 3 a.m.

As night deepened, the streets of Bergamo gradually quieted down.

She leaned against the window and watched the neon lights of the bar across the street gradually dim.

There was a sweet fruity scent in the air.

At that moment, she suddenly felt—

I am gradually stepping off my original path.

Alone, yet not lonely.

Unfamiliar, yet courageous.

This journey has only just begun.

The next morning, the sunlight in Bergamo was almost blinding.

The air was damp with the scent of spring, and the olive trees along the street swayed gently in the breeze.

Panqiu and Sophia walked together to the conference center.

The hotel was not far from the venue, a fifteen-minute drive, with cobblestone streets and the rumble of minivans along the way.

Sophia kept talking: "I was still revising my slides last night. Do you know that kind of breakdown at 2 a.m.?"

Pan Qiu smiled: "That's the sense of ceremony at academic conferences."

The venue was set up in an old building in the downtown area, with a white banner that read "ICLCS 2025" standing at the entrance.

They first went to the registration desk to sign in. A volunteer handed her a name tag, a schedule, and a canvas bag with the conference logo printed on it.

Pan Qiu specifically confirmed her report time—3:20 pm the next day, with the topic being "Multilingual Interaction".

After completing the formalities, she and Sophia went to the breakfast area next door.

There were croissants, coffee, and several kinds of fruit on the table.

They ate and chatted about their reports, helping each other check for spelling errors in their slides.

Pan Qiu is explaining her research topic—

"I am interested in the emotional safety mechanisms behind multilingual switching"

An elderly woman with white hair suddenly turned around and interjected with a smile:

"I just heard you mention 'inner language'? Are you researching inner language phenomena in bilingual people?"

Pan Qiu was taken aback, then quickly replied, "Yes, but I'm more interested in language switching in cross-cultural communication."

The old lady's eyes lit up, and her smile revealed genuine surprise: "That's wonderful! I've done research on 'inner language and children's language development' before."

She paused, then asked curiously, "Who is your advisor, darling?"

Pan Qiu hesitated for a moment, but still answered, "Ethan Ellery."

The old lady's eyes widened instantly, she slapped her chest, and her laughter almost shook the entire table.

“My God—you’re my academic granddaughter! I’m Margaret O’Connor, Ethan’s doctoral advisor!”

After saying that, she gave Panqiu a warm hug.

Sophia laughed so hard she couldn't stand up straight: "What a coincidence!"

“Just call me Maggie,” the old lady waved her hand. “Everyone calls me that. Except Ethan—he was too serious back then and never used a nickname.”

Maggie picked up her coffee, her eyes crinkling into fine lines as she smiled.

"That kid is very smart, but oh, he's too much of a perfectionist."

She shook her head gently, as if recalling some endearing trouble.

"He could stay up all night for a single paragraph, rewriting it twelve times! Then he would show up in my office at seven in the morning with a cup of coffee bigger than a flowerpot."

Pan Qiu couldn't help but laugh. The scene was too vivid—

Those familiar eyes, that taste of late-night coffee—

It turns out that it existed many years ago.

Maggie continued, "I used to tell him, 'Ethan, perfection is the enemy of good writing. Tell a story, don't nitpick the words.'"

She smiled. "But he never believed it. He thought 'precision' was 'truth'."

Pan Qiu paused, stunned. She had heard him say that same thing; Ethan had said almost the exact same thing to her the night before the qualifying exam.

At the time, she thought it was just a consolation.

Only now do I realize that was something he was taught back then.

Maggie seemed to notice that she was lost in thought, and softly added:

"But I think he eventually learned it."

One day he finally stopped obsessing over commas and started listening to others.

That's when I knew—he had finally grown up.

Pan Qiu pursed her lips, a surge of heat rising in her chest.

It turns out he wasn't born so calm and gentle.

He was also guided and taught how to let go of his obsessions during his long journey.

She suddenly realized that what she had learned from Ethan was not just research methods.

There is also that gentleness and steadfastness in the face of the world.

Those qualities she thought "belonged only to him" had also been gently passed on to others.

She chuckled softly and said, "I hope that one day I can be like you."

Maggie squinted and patted her hand: "You can do it. You've already started to learn to listen."

Panqiu smiled too.

At that moment, she felt the world suddenly become vast—

She was no longer just Ethan's student.

She saw her direction and a gentle future.

Perhaps one day, she will also become an academic grandmother.