Chapter 34
Memory, like amber scattered in the river of time, freezes the most ordinary yet precious moments into eternity. For Lü Xiaoyan later on, this amber was the only warmth he could hold in his hands during the endless winter.
The First Kiss in the Darkroom
It was a typical afternoon, shortly after they confirmed their relationship. The darkroom was bathed in the warm glow of a red safety light, the air thick with the slightly astringent scent of fixative. Qiu Yayu was standing on tiptoe, trying to make out the details of a photograph he had just enlarged, her body leaning slightly forward.
Standing behind her, Lü Xiaoyan could smell the fresh fragrance of her hair and see the fine downy hair on the back of her fair neck when he looked down. His heart skipped a beat, and an unprecedented, intense impulse seized him.
He reached out and gently grasped her shoulder.
Qiu Yayu turned her head in confusion, her cheeks glowing softly in the red light, her eyes like obsidian immersed in water, clear and questioning.
He didn't speak, but lowered his head and tentatively and slowly approached.
Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of panic crossing them, before closing again. Her eyelashes trembled gently, like the wings of a startled butterfly.
His lips finally landed on her forehead.
A kiss as gentle as a sigh. It carried the coolness of developing solution, and the burning heat of his palm.
At that moment, time seemed to truly stand still. Only the sudden, rapid beating of their hearts and the silent, sweet yet tense electric current flowing through the air remained in the darkroom.
Qiu Yayu's face instantly flushed red, like a ripe tomato. She abruptly lowered her head, burying her face in his chest, her voice muffled, filled with shyness and barely concealed joy: "...You ambushed me..."
Lu Xiaoyan didn't speak, but tightened his arms, pulling her even closer into his embrace. His chin rested on the top of her head, feeling the softness and warmth of her body, and the barren wasteland in his heart seemed to bloom instantly.
That kiss on the forehead, amidst the smell of chemicals and the red light, filled with youthful innocence and preciousness, became the mark of their first and most innocent kiss.
A passionate kiss under the stars
Compared to the restraint in the darkroom, the kiss under the starry sky in the botanical garden felt more like an inevitable outburst of pent-up emotions.
The summer night breeze carried the sweet scent of grass and distant gardenias, and the vast Milky Way stretched out above them, seemingly within reach. They lay side by side on the deck chairs on the terrace, covered with the same thin blanket, their fingers quietly intertwined beneath it.
"I've heard that wishes made upon shooting stars are very effective," Qiu Yayu said, gazing at the starry sky with a dreamy, soft voice, "If there were a shooting star right now, what would you wish for, senior?"
Lü Xiaoyan turned his head to look at her profile illuminated by starlight, but did not answer. His wish was right beside him at that moment.
She turned to look at him, and their eyes met. Starlight fell into her eyes, shattering into a dazzling galaxy. It was so quiet around them that they could hear each other breathing, and something crackling in the air—a longing.
It's unclear who took the initiative first; perhaps it was simply a natural attraction of magnetic fields.
The distance between them is gradually decreasing.
This time, it was no longer a fleeting touch on the forehead.
His lips, precise and undeniably tender, covered hers.
At first, their touch was gentle, tentatively exploring the shape and temperature of each other's lips. She could feel the coolness and softness of his lips, carrying a hint of the refreshing night breeze. He, on the other hand, was intoxicated by the lingering sweetness of watermelon on her lips.
Then, a gate was opened.
The kiss deepened, becoming urgent, carrying a torrent of pent-up emotions. He instinctively pried open her teeth, their tongues entwining in a passionate embrace. Her hands had somehow climbed up his neck, her fingertips digging into his slightly stiff hair. The thin blanket had slipped halfway down, and the cool night breeze did nothing to quell the sudden rise in their body temperature.
This kiss, imbued with the vastness of the starry sky and the passion of a summer night, was filled with possessiveness, surrender, and unreserved love. In the distance, there seemed to be the chirping of insects and the rustling of leaves in the wind, but they could hear nothing. In their world, only their burning breaths, their pounding hearts, and the mingled breaths between their lips, a breath that seemed to last until the very end of the universe, remained.
They didn't know how much time had passed, until they were both slightly out of breath from lack of oxygen, before they reluctantly parted ways.
Qiu Yayu's cheeks were flushed, her eyes moist and dazzling under the starlight, carrying a hazy and shy feeling of being pampered. Lü Xiaoyan's breathing was still a little erratic. He looked at her, his eyes surging with a deep affection that almost devoured her.
He didn't speak, but lowered his head again, gently kissed away the trace of moisture on the corner of her lips, and then held her tightly in his arms, as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones.
That kiss under the starry sky was passionate and lingering, like a sudden summer night rain, thoroughly nourishing two young and ardent hearts.
Countless everyday kisses
Besides these iconic kisses, there are countless other small, everyday kisses scattered throughout the day.
In a secluded corner of the library, he quickly stole a coffee-scented kiss from her lips, then nonchalantly continued reading despite her reproachful look.
When they parted ways downstairs at the dormitory, she tiptoed and planted a sweet goodnight kiss on his lips, with a bouncy, jelly-like texture, before running away blushing.
When sharing an umbrella on a rainy day, in the small space under the drooping edge of the umbrella, you exchange a brief kiss, still damp and warm from each other.
Even when she was sick, after he fed her her medicine, seeing her little face scrunched up with bitterness, he couldn't help but lean down and smooth the wrinkles between her brows with a gentle kiss...
Every kiss is like a unique piece of amber, preserving the weather, mood, atmosphere, and one-of-a-kind love of that moment.
Later, in countless lonely nights, Lü Xiaoyan would repeatedly "revisit" these amber memories.
He could clearly recall the smell of chemicals in the darkroom, the fragrance of grass under the starry sky, the lingering sweetness of watermelon on her lips, and her slightly trembling eyelashes during the goodnight kiss…
These details are more vivid and unforgettable than any photograph.
He had once experienced such a passionate, real, soul-deep intimacy.
He had been loved so deeply, and he had loved so passionately.
This may explain why he was never completely frozen during the long and cold twenty-five years that followed.
Those passionate kisses, sealed in amber, were the only undying sparks he held in his arms as he traversed the boundless darkness.
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[Sitting on the back of a bicycle, enjoying the breeze]
That secondhand bicycle was specially bought by Lü Xiaoyan so he could give her rides. He carefully wrapped the back seat with soft velvet because she had complained that the original metal frame was uncomfortable.
Qiu Yayu always sat sideways in the back seat, one hand gently holding the fabric of his clothes at his waist, while the other hand would be restless—sometimes holding an ice cream, carefully avoiding his back; sometimes holding a candied hawthorn she had just bought, and suddenly offering it to his mouth while he was waiting at a red light; most of the time, it just hung down casually, swaying gently with the rhythm of the car.
She didn't like sitting properly; she always swung her legs and hummed off-key songs. The wind carried her words intermittently into his ears.
"Senior—faster—"
"Look at that cloud—doesn't it look like a little dog?"
"Oops, my hair seems to be tangled in your button..."
He usually just listens silently, feeling the subtle movements and warmth behind him, but the corners of his mouth will unconsciously turn up. He will adjust the frequency of his pedaling according to the rhythm of her humming, and when she exclaims that her hair is tangled, he will steadily put one foot on the ground and patiently help her untangle it.
Once, she had a sudden inspiration and opened her arms like a bird trying to take flight.
"Hold on tight." He didn't turn his head, his voice carried on the wind, yet it carried an undeniable force.
She chuckled and withdrew her hand, instead wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, pressing her cheek against his slender yet reliable back. Through the thin fabric of his clothes, she could feel the tension and relaxation of his muscles as he pedaled, and his steady heartbeat.
At that moment, she felt like she had the whole world.
The dappled sunlight filtering through the sycamore trees, the warm breeze brushing past their ears, the casual, everyday whispers on the back seat—these formed a unique, ever-changing landscape that belonged only to them. He carried her through the teaching buildings, through the tree-lined paths, through the aromas wafting from the snack streets, as if he could ride like this forever, until the end of time.
The "minor troubles" she left behind
Qiu Yayu has a "bad habit"—she always likes to leave her mark on Lü Xiaoyan's things.
In his photography theory textbook, there would be a cartoon version of a person she drew on a sticky note, labeled "the senior who listens attentively" and "the senior who secretly sleeps."
One day, a small, smiling yellow sun, pasted on the wall of his thermos with a sticker that wouldn't come off easily, suddenly appeared.
On his darkroom workbench, there was a small glass bottle filled with green plants that had appeared out of nowhere. He said it could absorb chemical odors.
Even the strap of his precious camera was tied with a thin, dark blue rope woven with the letters "L&Q".
These little things initially frustrated him, but after getting used to them, they became an integral part of his life. He accepted the cartoon drawings that might appear in his textbooks, got used to seeing the silly little sun when he drank water, remembered to water the little plant, and never thought of untying the somewhat girlish knot.
She was like a pebble gently thrown into his calm lake, not only creating ripples but also leaving behind these "little troubles" that shimmered at the bottom of the lake, silently making his world more vivid.
For a long time after she left, Lü Xiaoyan maintained these habits. When flipping through books, she would subconsciously look for sticky notes; when picking up a water glass, she would stare blankly at the little sun; she would change the water in the empty bottle of the long-withered plant; and her fingers would rub the knot on the camera strap countless times.
These "troubles" she left behind became the gentlest yet cruelest evidence of her existence. They silently reminded him how his life had been so specifically and subtly intervened in and filled by someone.
The Unfulfilled Promise
They made countless promises about the future, like the countless stars in the summer night sky.
"When summer vacation starts, let's go to that town where we can see the Milky Way!"
"In autumn, let's go to your grandfather's old house and see the osmanthus blossoms in the rain!"
"I want to go skiing in winter, senior, you have to teach me!"
"We need a darkroom in our house someday..."
"When we get old, let's find a quiet place and open a bookstore. You take photos, and I'll run the store..."
She spoke each promise with unwavering conviction, her eyes sparkling, as if those beautiful tomorrows were within reach. Lü Xiaoyan usually just listened, occasionally nodding and saying "okay." But he would take each "okay" as a solemn promise, keeping it in his heart.
He even began secretly preparing for these appointments—checking out travel guides for Starry Sky Town, contacting relatives back home to inquire about the osmanthus blooming season, browsing ski equipment, and sketching out the layout of the darkroom in his future home in his mind…
He thought they would have plenty of time to realize these seemingly distant dreams one by one.
However, fate stingily took back everything it had given.
Those promises ultimately became "unfulfilled".
He later went to the Starry Sky Town alone. The Milky Way was beautiful, but its beauty felt hollow.
He never went back to his grandfather's old house in the autumn.
Skiing, bookstores, spending one's later years together... all of these have become imaginations that only exist in parallel universes.
These unfulfilled promises, like a musical piece abruptly ended, left countless notes hanging in mid-air, becoming the most unbearable regret of his remaining life. Every time he thought of them, a subtle and lingering pain would rise in his heart.
Even so, he was still grateful.
I am grateful that she had so passionately planned her future with him.
He was grateful for not only the sadness she left him, but also for these warm amber fragments that had once illuminated his entire world.
These seemingly insignificant details constitute an inseparable part of what makes him "Lü Xiaoyan".
May he, after a long farewell, still carry this light with him as he walks alone through the remaining four seasons.
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