Chapter Forty-Five

Tan Yuze's longing for Xu Li after she transferred schools was like a silent avalanche, pressing down on his chest, growing heavier and heavier, yet no one knew. He always thought that transferring schools was just a change of location, that Xu Li was still there, just a little farther away.

But when she was really gone, he realized that the "far away" wasn't geographical, but rather—he could no longer see her doing her homework at her desk before morning reading, he couldn't pretend to pass by her seat after class, and he couldn't turn around to look at her the moment she smiled.

He started frequently going to the window seat on the second floor of the library, which used to be Xu Li's favorite corner. Sunlight fell on the table, dust motes floated, and he sat there, flipping through a book, but couldn't concentrate on a single word.

He just wanted to sit where she used to sit, as if that would bring him closer to her.

Sometimes he would dream about her.

In his dream, she was still wearing that blue and white school uniform, her hair hanging down her chest, sitting in front of him, turning back to smile at him. He reached out to touch her, but each time he missed.

When he woke up, it was still dark, and the dormitory was eerily quiet. He stared at the ceiling, his heart pounding like he'd just run a 3,000-meter race. He started messaging her, not daring to message her too often, afraid she'd find it annoying.

He asked, "Is it cold where you are?" "Do you have many classes?" "Is the food good in the cafeteria?"

Her replies were simple, sometimes just an "um" or "It's alright." But he would stare at those few words for a long time, as if trying to read her emotions.

One time, he couldn't help himself and asked her, "Do you... ever miss me even a little bit?" He regretted it as soon as he sent the message, staring at the screen, his heart pounding as if it were going to explode.

After a long while, she replied, "Sometimes." He stared at those three words, and his eyes suddenly welled up with tears. He didn't dare reply, afraid she would see how much he cared.

He started writing in his diary, writing very slowly, each sentence as if carved from his heart. "Today I passed by the playground and saw people playing badminton, and suddenly I thought of you."

“You used to always ask me to play with you, saying I wasn’t agile enough and my reactions were slow. I practice every day now, but you’re no longer here.”

“It’s raining today. Is it raining where you are too? I remember you were most afraid of thunder. Every time there was thunder, you would say, ‘Tan Yuze, don’t hang up.’ My phone is on 24 hours a day now, but you will never call again.”

"I saw someone whose back looked like yours today, and I chased him for three blocks, but it wasn't you. Was I stupid?" He stopped going to that spot in the library.

It was so quiet, so quiet it made him want to cry. He started walking around the track again and again until it got dark, until the dormitory was about to close.

The wind stung his face like a knife, but he felt that only in this way could he suppress the empty pain in his heart.

Once, he overheard a girl in the cafeteria saying, "Xu Li seems to be in a relationship. There's a boy in her class who's really nice to her."

He jerked his chopsticks, spilling rice all over the table.

He didn't know how he got out of the cafeteria. He only remembered that he went back to his dormitory that day, didn't say anything, didn't take a shower, went straight to bed, and covered his head with the blanket.

He cried for the first time. Not a loud sob, but tears streamed down his face uncontrollably. He began to fear holidays. Because holidays meant she might come back, or she might not. He dared not ask, afraid to hear her say, "She's not coming back."

He was truly afraid that she would really forget him.

He counted down every day, counting the days since she left, counting the days since she said she would think of him "sometimes".

On the 127th day, he received a message from her: "I'll be back next week, can we meet?"

He stared at the message, his fingers trembling, and replied with two words:

"What time?" He didn't know what he would say that day, maybe he would say nothing at all, just look at her.

But he knew he would arrive early, wear the white shirt she had said looked good, and have his hair neatly cut.

He will stand there and wait for her.

Just like he had been doing every day for the past 127 days—waiting for her. On the day Xu Li returned, it snowed lightly in Nancheng, a rare occurrence.

Tan Yuze arrived at the station forty minutes early and stood in the most conspicuous spot at the exit, holding a cup of oolong roasted milk tea with 70% sugar in her hand—she used to always think that 30% sugar was too bland and full sugar was too cloying.

Snowflakes landed on his eyelashes, melting into tiny water droplets. He dared not blink, afraid of missing her. Waves of people surged out, and his heart rose and fell with each announcement.

Then a girl wearing a beige long down jacket and a gray knitted hat appeared, dragging a suitcase, her steps slow as if she were looking for someone.

She looked up, her gaze piercing through the snow curtain to meet his.

At that moment, Tan Yuze suddenly understood what the book meant by "time standing still"—it wasn't an exaggeration after all.

He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. Xu Li, on the other hand, smiled first, her eyes curving into crescents: "Have you been waiting long?"

"No... I just arrived." His lie was clumsy; the water droplets on his eyelashes betrayed him.

She pushed her suitcase in front of him, her tone as familiar as if they had only parted yesterday: "Let's go then, Mr. Tan."

They went to eat at the clay pot rice noodles stall behind the high school. The owner remembered them and said with a smile, "Oh, long time no see, young couple."

Xu Li didn't deny it, but just lowered her head and took a bite of the beef ball, gasping for breath from the heat.

Tan Yuze casually pushed the iced soy milk to her side, only realizing afterward that the action was too natural, like a habit etched into his bones.

The shop was very warm, and her cheeks turned red from the heat, while the tips of her ears were pink.

Tan Yuze stared at the small brown mole on her earlobe and suddenly asked, "Do you have heating where you are in winter?" "Yes, it's terribly dry."

She paused, poking at the ice cubes in her soy milk with the straw, "But I still miss the cold of Nancheng."

"I miss Nancheng," he repeated softly, "or..."

"I want both." She looked up, her voice as soft as snowflakes falling into her collar, "Especially..."

He was interrupted by the fried pork the proprietress brought over, and she didn't say anything more. But Tan Yuze wanted to see her fingertips turn white as she gripped the chopsticks.

As evening fell, the snow stopped. They walked along the old moat, the streetlights casting long shadows.

Xu Li suddenly stopped and pointed to the frozen river: "Do you remember when we were in our second year of high school, you almost slipped into the water while picking up my school badge that I had dropped?"

"Remember."

He laughed, "You were so scared back then that you called me 'Tanzi'."

“Actually…” she kicked the snow off her feet, “I cried that day not because of the school badge, but because your arm was cut by ice shards and had a long gash.”

Tan Yuze was stunned.

She took a deep breath, as if encouraging herself: "Tan Yuze, I came back this time to tell you—" Her phone suddenly rang. She took it out and glanced at it; the contact name on the screen was "".

Xu Li's expression instantly became complicated. After hesitating for two seconds, she answered, "Hello?... Yes, I've arrived... It's okay, I'll talk to you later."

Tan Yuze stared at her slightly trembling hand after she hung up, his throat tightening. "Was she your classmate?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "Sort of."

She exhaled a puff of white mist, "Tan Yuze, actually I—"

"Don't say anything more," he suddenly interrupted, pointing to the brightly lit bus stop in the distance. "The last bus is here. I'll take you home."

Xu Li opened her mouth, but in the end she just nodded.

On the bus, they sat side by side in the second-to-last row. The window fogged up, and she drew a small sun with her fingertip.

Looking at the crooked circle, Tan Yuze recalled something he'd written in his diary: "She could never draw the sun perfectly round, so I secretly added a stroke to the back. Later she found out and laughed, saying, 'Tan Yuze, you childish devil!'"

As if possessed, he reached out and drew a curved line next to the sun—which turned into a smiley face.

Xu Li looked at that smiling face, then suddenly rested her forehead on the back of the seat in front of her, her voice muffled: "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I...I thought I could finish quickly." The bus braked suddenly, and her shoulder bumped into his chest. Tan Yuze didn't move, but simply reached out to support her arm, as if supporting a fragile dream.

“Xu Li,” he said in a low, husky voice, “I’m fine. You can talk slowly, for as long as you want.” She looked up, her eyes a little red: “What if… I said I came back this time to take you away?” The train arrived at the station.

The old locust tree downstairs from Xu Li's house has lost all its leaves, and the branches are still covered with unmelted snow.

She stood on the steps, her suitcase handle still pulled back. "Cheng Yu is my roommate's cousin," she said abruptly.

"He helped me a lot, but not in the way you imagine."

Tan Yuze's breath condensed into white mist in the cold air: "What...is it like that I'm imagining?"

“You thought I was in a relationship, that I had forgotten you.” She bit her lower lip. “Actually, the day I wrote ‘Sometimes I think of you’ in my diary, I deleted the second half of the sentence— ‘Sometimes, but most of the time I think of you.’”

She paused.

As if confirming something, he pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from his down jacket pocket. "This is a photocopy of my transfer certificate. I applied to come back and study here for six months, if... if you're willing to wait for me."

Tan Yuze didn't take the paper; instead, he reached out and brushed the snow off her eyelashes.

“Xu Li,” his voice trembled, “I’ve waited 127 days, what’s another six months?” The next second, he pulled her and her suitcase into his arms.

The snow began to fall again, landing on their overlapping shadows, like a confession that was overdue all winter.

Half a year is very short, as short as an old movie fast-forwarded; half a year is also very long, so long that he counts almost every second in frames.

Xu Li really came back and transferred to the last row of the senior year (4) class. Tan Yuze's seat was 15 degrees diagonally in front of her. As long as she turned her head slightly, she could see a small tuft of hair that her nose brushed against when she wrote.

Old Cao is very happy today; his capable assistant has returned.

Lu Yi, Zhu Yu, Bai Chuan, and Tan Yuqi were undoubtedly the happiest. Lu Yi felt that Tan Yuze was still holding a grudge if he ever angered him.

They didn't publicly say they were "together." At Nancheng No. 1 Middle School, the patrols against early romantic relationships were comparable to drug enforcement; once discovered, the student would be publicly criticized in a school assembly, or even expelled. Their homeroom teacher, Lao Cao, was particularly sharp-eyed.

So they hid everything in the most ordinary actions: before morning reading, Tan Yuze would place his thermos on the corner of her desk—it contained oolong roasted milk with seven-tenths sugar, and at the bottom of the cup were peeled walnuts.

After evening self-study, Xu Li would pretend to go to throw away the trash, go around to the back door, and stuff a piece of draft paper folded into an electrocardiogram shape into his hood pocket:

"Day 97. The method I used for the last question on today's physics test is different from what you taught. Let's check the answers in the small classroom after 3 PM?"

Occasionally, when Lao Cao would suddenly appear, the light from his flashlight would sweep across the windowsill, and Tan Yuze would stand his exercise book upright, using the shadow to secretly hook her finger.

Fingertips touching fingertips, like a spark ignited in the snow.

One Friday in April, the results of the mock exam were posted on the bulletin board.

Tan Yuze ranked 3rd in the grade, and Xu Li ranked 1st.

After the crowd dispersed, she stood motionless in front of the leaderboard. Tan Yuze walked over and heard her whisper, "You still can't catch up with me, you're such a newbie."

"What did you say? Then let's run together." He turned to look at her and smiled. He had actually heard her clearly, but he just liked to play along with her antics.

He led her to the small courtyard behind the laboratory building—there stood a magnolia tree, in full bloom, its blossoms as white as lamps.

Tan Yuze took out a printed Excel spreadsheet from his schoolbag; the A4 paper was densely packed with text:

"This is the schedule for the next 60 days. I've broken down your physics into 15 topics, and you'll spend 40 minutes on it every evening after 3 PM; you'll help me revise my Chinese composition, my argumentative essay is absolutely terrible..."

Xu Li didn't check her watch, but simply looked up at him and asked, "Why are you so good to me?"

“Because I’m afraid.” His voice was low and hoarse. “I’m afraid you’ll leave again in six months. I’m afraid the next time it won’t be six months, but four or forty years.”

Magnolia petals fell onto the form, like a stamp. Xu Li folded the paper twice, put it in her school uniform pocket, and then tiptoed to kiss his chin—very lightly, like a petal brushing against him.

“Then this time it’s my turn to pursue you,” she said, “and for the rest of my life, okay?”

Three days before the college entrance examination, the school gave students an early break to study. Xu Li's temporary enrollment period was also coming to an end. Old Zhao called her to his office and handed her a piece of paper stamped with a red seal: "We received a letter from your student registration office saying that as long as your college entrance examination score exceeds the first-tier university admission line, your student registration will be directly transferred back to Nancheng No. 1 High School. Congratulations, everything is settled."

Xu Li clutched the paper and ran to the empty classroom to find Tan Yuze. Pushing open the door, she saw a line of white chalk writing on the blackboard: "May your writing be beautiful, and may my wishes come true."

Tan Yuze stood on the podium, holding the last piece of chalk in his hand, and smiled at her: "Xu, come over and sign your name." She walked up, wrote "Xu Li" next to his name, and added a small note below:

"My wish has been fulfilled."

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting the shadows of the two people together, like a stamp that will never expire.

As the bell rang to signal the end of the last subject of the college entrance examination, the entire teaching building erupted in cheers.

Xu Li went against the flow of the crowd and ran to the third-floor stairwell, where she saw Tan Yuze leaning against the railing waiting for her.

Neither of them asked "How did the exam go?" They just looked at each other and then reached out their hands at the same time—just like they had done countless times in the past during morning reading, evening self-study, and under the magnolia tree, interlocking their fingers.

Outside the school gate, cars picking up examinees formed a luminous river of traffic.

They didn't get on the bus or go home, but instead walked all the way to the old moat.

The evening breeze, carrying the warmth of early summer, rippled across the river like scattered gold.

Tan Yuze took a brown paper envelope out of his schoolbag and handed it to her.

Xu Li opened it, and inside were a crumpled bus ticket stub, a folded draft of an electrocardiogram, a flattened magnolia petal—and 127 sticky notes labeled "Day 1, Day 2... Day 127," each with a sentence on the back:

I miss you today too.

Her eyes welled up with tears, and she pressed the envelope to her chest: "And the 128th day?" Tan Yuze lowered his head and kissed her. It was a kiss with the scent of roasted milk, magnolia, and a hint of salt.

After a long while, he pressed his lips to hers and whispered:

"Day 128, no need to write anymore."

"Because from now on, you will be by my side every day."

After graduation, at the centennial celebration of Nancheng No.1 High School, two photos were hung side by side on the wall of outstanding alumni: one was Xu Li, a physics major from University A, now a top celebrity in the entertainment industry; the other was Tan Yuze, a Chinese literature major from University B.

Below the photo, in the same line of handwritten text:

"Thank you for that one minute of heart-fluttering feeling under the magnolia tree, which we will cherish for a lifetime."