Chapter 15

The day of departure finally arrived.

The airport lobby was bustling with activity, with flight information constantly updated on the radio. A unique atmosphere of anticipation and sadness permeated the air. Ling Peng only let his family see him to the departure gate, insisting on checking in himself.

He didn't let Zhao Jinglu come to see him off.

His excuse was that the airport was too far, the trip back and forth was too much, and she had an important class that day. But the real reason was something they both knew. He was afraid of seeing her tears; that would paralyze him more than anything else. He was also afraid that the composure and strength he had managed to maintain would crumble the moment he saw her, revealing the equally surging anxiety and vulnerability beneath.

Zhao Jinglu understood. She didn't insist. She simply said on the phone, as calmly and cheerfully as possible, "Okay, have a safe trip. Remember to let me know when you arrive."

However, when Ling Peng dragged his suitcase and passed through the security checkpoint alone, and looked back at the familiar city for the last time, his cell phone vibrated.

It’s a text message from Zhao Jinglu.

"Ling Peng, it's actually the people who leave who are the saddest. I'm here, with everything familiar. And you have to face the unfamiliar and the unknown. So, you have to take care of yourself, don't make do with your meals, and rest when you're tired, don't force yourself. I'll be fine too, here, waiting for you to come back."

There were no cries, no complaints, only the simplest, most resolute understanding and instructions. Each word was like a warm stone, dropped into the lake of Ling Peng's heart, creating ripples of bittersweet warmth. He gripped his phone tightly, as if drawing strength from it to overcome countless obstacles. Finally, he took a deep breath, turned, and joined the stream of people heading to the gate.

This was the first time in his life that he had truly traveled far and wide, to a completely unfamiliar city, to begin a life full of uncertainty. As the plane roared and soared into the sky, everything on the ground became smaller and smaller, and the worry in his heart grew heavier.

Shenzhen, a city renowned for its speed, welcomed Ling Peng with its humid, muggy air and fast-paced lifestyle. The initial days were incredibly busy. Renting an apartment, buying necessities, getting acquainted with the new work environment, and meeting new colleagues—everything had to start from scratch. The work also presented significant challenges, with new projects, a different work style, and even more interpersonal skills required.

Every day was like clockwork. But no matter how busy or tired he was, when he returned to the rented house, which seemed deserted and shabby for the time being, the first thing Ling Penglei did was to call Zhao Jinglu.

At first, it was just phone calls. Listening to her recount interesting campus stories, the joy of receiving a scholarship, or even just simple everyday moments, would dispel his day's fatigue and loneliness. Eventually, his yearning couldn't bear it anymore, so he bought her a webcam and got one for himself. Thus, their evening routine became video calls.

Their faces, sometimes lags due to network latency, reflected each other's faces on the tiny computer screen, and the image quality wasn't particularly clear, but it was their most important comfort during those days. They ate together across the screen, she doing homework while he looked at materials. Sometimes, words weren't needed; simply knowing the other person was online, "being there" in a virtual way, was enough to bring peace of mind.

However, in the adult world, especially in the workplace, there are always times when one's actions are forced upon them. Ling Peng's work inevitably involves social engagements and drinking. He's not known for his drinking, but in those circumstances, he sometimes has to bite the bullet. From his initial casual attempts to his later forced development of a greater tolerance for alcohol, he never shared with her the hardships involved.

But after getting drunk, his tough exterior would become fragile. Sometimes when the video call was connected, Zhao Jinglu could see his visibly flushed cheeks and slightly distracted eyes.

"Did you drink again today?" She frowned, her tone showing the heartache that could not be hidden.

"Well... I can't help it, I can't turn it down..." His voice would be deeper and hoarser than usual, thick with weariness. Then, he would stare blankly at her across the screen, his eyes fixed, filled with the honesty of drunkenness and undisguised yearning.

"Zhao Jinglu..." He would murmur her name over and over again.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"I miss you so much..." The voice was vague and nasal, like a child who had been wronged, "I miss you so much... I want to hug you..."

These words, which he might have found cheesy and restrained when sober, flowed out without reservation under the influence of alcohol. He would say he missed her adorable dimples when she smiled, he missed her sweaty yet sparkling eyes after dancing, he missed the dry autumn breeze in Beijing, instead of the perpetually sticky sea breeze in Shenzhen...

Zhao Jinglu listened on the other side of the screen, watching him display a rare moment of vulnerability and dependence. Her cheeks grew hot, her heartbeat quickened, but more than anything, she felt a pang of distress, as if something were being held tightly in her arms. She wished she could reach through the screen, be by his side, pour him a glass of honey water, and smooth his furrowed brow.

"I miss you, too." She would respond softly, "Don't be so serious next time. Drink less. Are you feeling uncomfortable? Go and rest."

"I don't want to hang up...looking at you makes me feel less uncomfortable..." He would sometimes mutter stubbornly like this until his energy ran out and he fell asleep on the sofa, hugging his computer. Zhao Jinglu could only listen to his gradually becoming heavier and more steady breathing, unwilling to cut the connection for a long time.

The passage of time seems particularly long in the longing, but becomes bearable in the anticipation of reunion.

During the National Day holiday and the Spring Festival holiday, Ling Peng saved up almost all of his available vacation time, grabbed expensive full-price tickets long in advance, and flew back to Beijing across thousands of miles.

Every reunion is like a small celebration. Finding each other precisely amidst the surging crowds at the airport, hugging each other tightly, feeling the warmth and presence of a real person, can temporarily dispel the emptiness brought on by separation.

Those days always passed quickly, filled with compressed sweetness. But happy times are always short-lived, and the time to say goodbye soon came again.

Every airport farewell is like a replay of heartbreak. Watching the other person go through security and disappear at the end of the aisle, that overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness comes crashing back. The greatest pain is spending days adjusting to life without the other person, pushing that intense longing back into the depths of my heart, relying on phone and internet signals to continue waiting for the next reunion.

Days and months passed like this. Missing each other was the norm, but love and commitment became stronger in the test of distance.

They are both working hard in their own worlds, he fighting for a better future, she growing to become a better self. Two parallel tracks, because of love and trust, always extend in the same direction.

And so, a long time passed. Long enough for Zhao Jinglu's university life to draw to a close, long enough for Ling Peng's work in Shenzhen to gradually get on track and he began to take on more important responsibilities.

Distance and time did not separate them, but instead made them more tacit and determined.