Lighthouse and Campfire
The library's heating was running quietly, and the winter sunlight outside the windows was softened into a gentle glow by the thick glass. Although school hadn't officially started yet, Pan Qiu had already quietly switched back to "motivational mode"—searching for literature, taking notes, and searching for books among the shelves.
In the past few days, she has read Ethan's latest paper twice, tracing his research line through the references, and even listing possible questions in her notebook. She dislikes the feeling of being speechless in an interview—especially after hearing that Ethan is strict and picky, her competitive spirit and unwillingness to admit defeat have been pushed to the forefront.
Sunlight slanted across the long table, the light filtering through the glass and casting golden wisps of dust that rippled gently in the winter air, as if dancing to unseen music. Notebooks lay open before me.
She felt it was about time, so she opened her email, typed a short but polite email, and typed "send".
A few seconds later, a new email popped up in her inbox. She stopped and looked at the subject line—it was too fast, as if the sender had been waiting for her reply.
When I clicked on it, there was an automatic reply: Hello, and thank you for your email. I am currently away on vacation and will return on 1/10. During this time, I will have limited ess to email (and hopefully better ess to sunshine, good books, and a lighthouse or two). If it's urgent, please contact Amanda Shultz. Otherwise, I'll respond as soon as I'm back.
— EE
(Hello, thank you for your letter.)
I am currently on vacation and will return on January 10th. I may have difficulty checking emails during this time (but hopefully I'll have more sunshine, good books, and a lighthouse or two). Please contact Amanda Shultz for urgent matters; otherwise, I will reply as soon as I return.
—EE)
"A lighthouse or two"—these words stood there quietly, like a distant light. She seemed to see a white tower standing alone on the sea, its lights slowly sweeping through the mist, calm and steady, yet far away from her.
Her mood sombered slightly. She checked the time; it was exactly three in the afternoon. She closed her laptop and packed her books and notes into her bag. She prepared to go home.
Pushing open the heavy glass doors of the library, the warmth and scent of paper lingered behind her, and a blast of cold air immediately enveloped her. Pan Qiu pulled her scarf up a little, her breath dissipating in the white mist before her eyes. She spotted Lin Yue at a glance—standing on the steps to one side of the library, his toes occasionally flicking at a small pebble on the ground. His seemingly casual demeanor, yet not quite that of someone just passing by, suggested he was waiting for someone.
The black down jacket accentuated his straight shoulders and back, revealing a navy blue sweater underneath. A dark gray and burgundy plaid scarf was loosely wrapped around his neck, its ends fluttering gently in the breeze. His hair was slightly damp, as if he had walked all the way from outdoors.
She walked over and stepped down the stairs, her gaze level with his—Lin Yue was more than half a head taller than her, and the tip of his nose and the white mist he exhaled were tinged with a pale gold by the deepening light.
"Hi, Panqiu." His voice carried a hint of warmth in the cold air.
"What are you doing here?" She raised her chin, her tone calm.
"I'm done with my work and don't want to go back, so I'll just wander around here." Lin Yue smiled faintly, as if explaining casually.
He paused, a glint in his eyes, and said, "Have you been to Winter Wonderland downtown? That temporary ice rink, and the marshmallow stand."
Panqiu shook her head.
“Shall we go take a look? Right now.” His tone was as if he had made a decision, his eyes shining like lamplight. “I’ll teach you to ice skate.”
The wind brushed past her ear. At that moment, she felt a slight ripple in her heart—this warmth so close yet so far contrasted sharply with the image of the lighthouse in the email.
"OK."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear in the cold air, like a crisp sound hitting ice.
Lin Yue's smile deepened. He took a step forward and walked beside her. "Let's go. I'll take you home first to put your things down. We'll arrive before dark."
As dusk transitioned into night, the grey-blue sky resembled a piece of silk polished by the cold air, reflecting the dazzling lights below.
The city center square was fenced off and transformed into an artificial ice rink. Colorful lights cast warm shadows on the ice, intertwining with the tracks left by gliding skates. The rink was bustling with people. Most were children; those who couldn't skate clung to the railings, slowly inching forward. Parents, wearing skates, pushed adorable little sleds—some shaped like seals, some like penguins—and the children sat on them, their round faces beaming, like porcelain dolls gliding gently across the ice.
A towering Christmas tree, two or three stories high, stood on one side of the ice rink. Its branches were adorned with warm yellow lights and colorful glass balls, and silver snowflake ornaments swayed gently in the light, occasionally reflecting dappled sunlight. At the very top was a huge golden star, seemingly twinkling against the grey-blue sky. On either side of this main Christmas tree stood three to five smaller trees, layered and extending outwards, creating a truly impressive sight.
A low, gentle male voice rang out from the speakers above the ice rink, singing "dreams are my reality"—the theme song from the movie *La Boum*. The first time she saw the film, she witnessed the female lead skating on the ice, her hair billowing in the wind, a youthful smile on her face.
At this moment, the melody is like an invisible thread, stitching the movie scene together with the scene before her eyes: the golden star atop the Christmas tree twinkles, the laughter of gliding children is crisp, and the sound of ice skates gliding across the ice intertwines with the singing. Pan Qiu feels as if she is stepping into that film reel, every breath carrying the warmth of the lights and the romance of the night.
Around the perimeter of the ice rink were rows of small round tables, each with a hollowed-out iron stove in the center, where a campfire flickered. People gathered in twos and threes, holding long bamboo skewers skewered with plump white cotton candy, slowly roasting them over the flames. The sweet aroma mingled with the caramelized scent, enveloping the cold night with the smell of firewood.
Pan Qiu was completely absorbed in watching. In that instant, she was enveloped by this atmosphere of happiness, and a warm feeling welled up in her heart.
She turned her head and met Lin Yue's gaze. His eyes shone brightly in the lamplight, carrying a genuine focus that made her suddenly feel a little embarrassed.
Lin Yue turned to the side: "Want to go ice skating for a few laps? Didn't you say you've never ice skated before?"
Driven by the atmosphere, Pan Qiu nodded naturally. He led her to the shoe rental shop. After she changed her shoes, he knelt down to check the straps: "Don't be afraid, I'll take care of you."
As soon as she stepped onto the ice, her skates began to wobble uncontrollably, and Pan Qiu instinctively reached for the railing. Lin Yue smiled and reached out to support her arm: "Lower your center of gravity and bend your knees slightly." His hand steadily supported her, allowing her to tentatively glide out step by step.
Not long after, he let go, skillfully glided out and back, drawing an arc in front of her, leaving a thin white line of ice shards in his wake. After gliding around her once, he said, "My home is in Harbin, where winters are much colder than here. When I was a child, we used to skate on the Songhua River, surrounded by ice lanterns, it was like a fairy tale at night."
His voice, carrying the white mist of his breath, came from between the lights and the ice, making the winter night before me seem to be drawn closer to that distant, snowy city.
Lin Yue glided beside her, gradually slowing down, maintaining a protective stance to her side and rear. Pan Qiu stepped over, trying to leave the railing, the blade beneath her feet obediently tracing short, sharp arcs.
“That’s it, don’t rush to take big steps.” He whispered a reminder to her from the side, skating around her once. As he spoke, out of the corner of her eye, a teenage boy rushed over from the other side, his skates making a rapid whistling sound, like an out-of-control gust of wind rushing straight towards her.
Before she could react, Lin Yue had already reached out and grabbed her arm, half-pulling and half-leading her to his chest, protecting her shoulders and back as they brushed past the gust of wind.
In an instant, her body was enveloped in a solid warmth, like a protective barrier separating her from the outside noise. Her breath was so close, carrying cool air and a hint of sweetness.
Pan Qiu was brought almost to his side—close enough to see the lines of his brow bone under the light, the shadow of his eyelashes trembling slightly, and the tips of his ears reddened by the cold.
Her heart skipped a beat, then started pounding even faster than when she was skating; her breathing became shallow, her palms grew hot, and she even broke out in a light sweat. She couldn't tell if it was from the sudden thrill or from being held in his arms like that—after all, Lin Yue's features were exceptionally clear under the light, and he was the kind of person whose heart would race.
Lin Yue released her and asked in a low voice, "Are you alright?"
Pan Qiu shook her head, her voice so soft it was as if she was afraid of being bounced back from the ice, "It's nothing."
After this little incident, they skated a few more laps. Lin Yue noticed that the tips of her ears and nose were red from the cold and laughed, "Let's go roast some marshmallows to warm our hands."
The two walked to an empty table, and Lin Yue handed her a bamboo skewer: "Don't get too close to the fire, or it will burn."
"I've never grilled before," she said casually, taking the bamboo skewer.
"Then I'll do it." He smiled halfway and picked up a stick as well. The firelight reflected in his eyes, like a small cluster of light that would never be blown out.
Their conversation didn't go any further, with only occasional exchanges of words, much like the campfire—neither too cold nor too hot, just enough to allow their thoughts to drift away.
Panqiu suddenly realized that she was observing him more closely than usual: watching the curve of his eyelashes in the firelight when he lowered his head, watching the faint lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. Her gaze fell on Lin Yue's fingers—long and strong, his grip on the bamboo skewers steady and natural. Panqiu followed his gaze; the campfire was flickering, and plump white cotton candies skewered on bamboo sticks were melting, burning, and gleaming golden in the firelight.
A question popped into my head: Was my heart racing because of the sudden danger on the ice rink, or because I was pulled to his side and felt his warmth?
The suspension bridge theory told her that both possibilities existed—physiological reactions could be misinterpreted by the brain as emotional fluctuations. But this reasoning did not make the momentary throbbing in her chest disappear.
The marshmallow was slightly browned on the outside. Lin Yue removed it from the fire and said softly, "It's ready to eat." Pan Qiu took it, took a bite, and instinctively gasped because it was so hot—the sweetness melted on her tongue.
The firelight flickered in my eyes, keeping me in this warm moment.
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