The temperature being tested
The steam from the tomato hotpot condensed into water droplets on the glass window, trickling down the edge like silent trails. Zheng Yiming carefully placed freshly cooked beef slices into my bowl, his movements deliberate and cautious, as if afraid of burning me. Jiang Yi, standing beside me, chuckled and said, "When did Zheng, the great physicist, become so considerate?"
Zheng Yiming's ears turned red, and he lowered his head to take a sip of cola: "See how much she enjoyed eating beef last time?"
I picked up a slice of beef, and the sweet and sour taste of the tomato, combined with the aroma of the meat, spread across my tongue, like the candy he secretly slipped to me in high school. Only, the sweetness back then was tinged with a bit of panic, while now it carries a sense of calm warmth.
"By the way," Jiang Yi wiped his mouth, "have you signed up for the inter-school physics competition next month?"
"I signed up, I'm in a group with Zhou Ziang." Zheng Yiming looked at me, "What about you guys?"
“I’m in a group with Zhi Xia,” Jiang Yi smiled. “It’s a good opportunity to try out the new material model.”
Zheng Yiming paused with his chopsticks in the bowl, then looked up with a hint of eagerness in his eyes: "That's perfect, we'll see who's the best on the field then."
"I'll see this through to the end." Jiang Yi raised his glass, the bubbles of cola exploding on the glass, like a silent contest.
Watching the sparks fly in their eyes, I suddenly found it quite amusing. These two people, who were once fierce rivals, could now sit across from each other over a hotpot, eagerly preparing for a competition, like two small animals with their claws folded, gently vying for dominance.
In the days leading up to the competition, Jiang Yi and I spent all our time in the lab debugging the model, while Zheng Yiming and Zhou Ziang often came to borrow the cryostat. The four of us moved around the lab bench, our voices—discussions, the hum of the instruments, the scratching of pens on paper—were a lively symphony.
Zheng Yiming always shows his thoughtfulness in the details. Knowing that I am afraid of the dark, he would accompany me to the dormitory building when I worked overtime late at night, using the excuse that "I also need to go back." Knowing that I like to chew gum while doing calculations, he would secretly put a box of mint-flavored gum in my desk drawer, with an awkward smiley face drawn on the wrapper. Even when discussing problems, he would deliberately slow down his speech and wait for me to sort out my thoughts before continuing, instead of always saying "This is very simple" like before.
“He seems to treat you a little differently,” Jiang Yi suddenly said while adjusting the equipment.
"Really?" I pretended to be focused on the screen. "Maybe they're afraid I'll hold them back."
Jiang Yi smiled and didn't ask any further questions. He simply placed a cup of hot cocoa next to me and said, "Don't overwork yourself. The model is already very stable."
On the day of the competition, the auditorium was packed. Jiang Yi and I's model performed exceptionally well in the first round of testing, with data stability far exceeding expectations. When it was Zheng Yiming and his team's turn, Zheng Yiming's hands, which were adjusting the equipment, suddenly paused, and he looked in my direction, as if seeking encouragement.
I nodded at him and gave him a "good luck" sign. His eyes lit up instantly, the corners of his mouth curved into a smile, and he turned around to continue operating, his movements much steadyer than before.
Their model encountered a slight error under high-temperature conditions, but Zheng Yiming remained calm and adjusted the parameters, ultimately achieving a good result. As he left the arena, he made a special trip over to us, the sweat still damp on his brow: "You did very well."
"You're great too." I handed him a tissue. "You've done an excellent job controlling the high-temperature error."
He paused as he took the tissue, his fingertips brushing against my palm, a faint electric current running through me. "Next time... we can try a combined model."
"OK."
In the end, our two groups tied for first place. During the awards ceremony, the host asked us to give our acceptance speeches. Zheng Yiming held the microphone, but his eyes were on me: "I want to thank someone who made me realize that physics is not just about formulas and data, but also... something warmer."
A good-natured chuckle rippled through the audience. Jiang Yi nudged my arm, a teasing smile in his eyes. My cheeks burned, but I couldn't help but look up at him. He was looking right at me, his eyes shining brighter than a spotlight.
At the celebration banquet, Zhou Ziang egged Zheng Yiming on to perform. He hesitated for a moment, then walked to the piano in the corner and sat down. His fingertips landed on the keys, and the piece that flowed out was "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." The simple melody carried a touch of clumsy tenderness, as if it were telling someone something.
Looking at his focused profile, I suddenly remembered how he played "Moonlight Sonata" in high school, his voice as cold and aloof as ice. But now, his music had warmth in it, like snow melting in the spring breeze, gently washing over my heart.
When the banquet ended, Zheng Yiming offered to take me back to my dorm. Jiang Yi patted my shoulder and said, "Go ahead, I have something to talk to Zhou Ziang about."
The moonlight cast long shadows of us as we walked side by side along the path strewn with magnolia petals, neither of us speaking. As we neared the dormitory building, he suddenly stopped and pulled a small box from his pocket.
"This... is for you."
Opening the box, inside was a silver star pendant. The star's edges were smoothly polished, unlike the sharp, pointed ginkgo bookmark from last time. "Last time I saw you had drawn a lot of stars in your notebook, so..."
"It's beautiful." I picked up the pendant, my fingertips touching the cool metal, but my heart felt warm.
"Shall I help you put it on?" His voice was a little nervous, as if he were waiting for a trial.
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. His fingertips gently brushed the back of my neck, carrying a slightly trembling warmth, like a feather lightly scratching my heart. The pendant rested on my collarbone, perfectly concealing the faint scar, as if it were being gently protected.
“It suits you perfectly.” He looked at me, his smile barely concealed. “It’s like it was made just for you.”
One by one, the lights in the dormitory building lit up, like scattered stars. Looking at myself in his eyes, I suddenly felt that some wounds might not need to be deliberately forgotten, and some past events might be forgiven slowly—not because those hurts no longer exist, but because the person in front of me is using new warmth to smooth out the old wrinkles little by little.
"Zheng Yiming," I began, my voice soft, "the art exhibition this weekend, are you serious?"
He paused for a moment, then nodded vigorously: "Of course! The tickets are all bought!"
"Then... see you there."
"See you there!" He smiled like a child who had just received candy, and as he turned to leave, his steps were as light as if he were walking on clouds.
I stood downstairs, touching the star pendant around my neck, the cool metal carrying a hint of the warmth of his fingertips. Jiang Yi's message came as I watched Zheng Yiming's departing figure: "He seems to see you as a star."
I replied with a smile, "Maybe."
In truth, stars never need anyone to illuminate them; they shine on their own. Just like me now, I no longer need to rely on anyone's warmth, yet I'm willing to try reopening my heart for that small, tentative warmth.
The night breeze carried the sweet fragrance of magnolias, causing the pendant to sway gently, like humming a tender song. I know that true reconciliation is never instantaneous; it requires time, testing, and courage from both sides to gradually draw closer and offer warmth.
And we are walking slowly down this path. Carrying the scars of the past, the honesty of the present, and the anticipation of the future, like two stars drawn to each other, slowly approaching each other on their respective orbits, eventually converging to create a gentle light that belongs to each other.
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