Chapter 1: The Girl Who Traveled Through Time
As I left the law firm, the evening breeze blew cherry blossom petals across my face. Dusk dyed the streets a honey-colored hue, and the crowds of people leaving work, like swarms of bees returning to their nests, flocked to the subway station.
"It's getting late, shall I take you home?"
A man with short crimson-purple hair stood in front of the office's glass door, the buttons on his suit cuffs gleaming in the setting sun. Kazama shook his head, and the hem of his off-white coat lifted a corner in the wind.
"Thank you, but about what happened just now..." She bit her lower lip, about the stack of manuscripts that were accused of "plagiarism".
The man interrupted her, his tone as calm as a frozen lake: "I will do my best."
As Kazama watched him walk into the office, he suddenly remembered the lanterns in Yokohama's Chinatown ten years ago. The light back then was always warm, unlike Tokyo's neon lights, which were blindingly bright but couldn't illuminate people's hearts.
The crowd at the subway station nearly separated her. As she rushed into the train, her back slammed against the cold glass, and her eyes in the reflection were as dark as ink.
Her mind was in a mess: the whispers in the editorial office, the soft tapping on the table, the words "try your best" mixed with the sweet osmanthus perfume on the woman sitting next to her, which made her stomach tighten.
She'd been in Tokyo for five years, and after graduating from Seigaku, she hadn't returned to Yokohama. The restaurant with the wooden sign "Kazama," the caramel aroma of Sister Ling's fried almond tofu, the cobblestone path where Gen Chiba had led her... all were completely drowned out by the smell of coffee from the office building.
"Next stop, the final destination..." The female voice on the radio sounded falsely gentle.
Fengjian rubbed his sore eyes, and suddenly a sweet, burnt aroma of almond candy came into his nose.
She opened her eyes suddenly and found the carriage was empty.
A stronger aroma drifted from the platform, the sweetness of cherry blossoms mixed with the freshness of soy sauce. She stepped out of the car, but her footsteps remained fixed.
The eaves of the Zenlin Gate cast a golden-red silhouette in the twilight, and strings of vermilion lanterns illuminated the "Yokohama Chinatown" sign. An elderly woman in a kimono walked by, carrying a basket of vegetables, her wooden clogs tapping against the ground as she smiled and said, "We're having wontons tonight."
Fengjian Siyue raised her hand to touch her face, and her fingertips were stained with warm liquid.
This is not the end of Tokyo.
This was her sixteenth year, her Yokohama.
——
"What are you dawdling for, you little bitch?"
As Fengjian pushed open the wooden door of the restaurant, he was tapped on the forehead by a woman in a red apron. Sister Ling's abacus clattered in her hands, and the smile lines at the corners of her eyes were still stained with flour, like falling snow. "Come down and help me after you change into your school uniform."
She looked down and saw that the beige coat had turned into a lotus green sailor suit. When the hem of the skirt swept over her calves, it brought a hint of warmth from the sun, as if she had touched the spring of ten years ago.
The dusk of Yokohama drifted in, and the restaurant was filled with the sweet aroma of food - the aroma of freshly cooked radish and beef brisket, mixed with the scent of Sister Ling's freshly brewed sour plum soup, made the glass windows fog up.
"Excuse me."
As dusk fell, the lanterns on the eaves lit up, and the wind chimes at the door jingled in the breeze. A few boys in black uniforms walked in. The one with burgundy hair pointed at the menu and exclaimed, "I heard this place serves super authentic Chinese food!"
Fengjian Siyue had just stuffed the account book into the counter drawer when he heard the words and pulled out the menu and handed it over. As his fingertips brushed across the paper, he caught a glimpse of the boy at the far side—dark green hair, a bandaged wrist, and a tennis racket at his feet.
"I recommend trying their signature stewed beef brisket with carrots..." She paused for a moment, her gaze fixed on her bandaged hand, and tapped another line on the menu with her pen. "But this isn't good for wound healing. Try the stewed beef with carrots instead. It's richer in protein."
"Eh? Kazama-san?" The boy with short black hair was stunned for a moment, and the tennis bag in his hand fell to the ground with a "bang".
Only then did Kazama notice that the person standing in front of the counter was his classmate Momoshiro Takeshi.
The red-haired girl came over immediately and nudged Tao Cheng's arm with her elbow: "Tao, I'm just reminding you kindly!"
"Stop rambling, Eiji-senpai!" Taocheng scratched his head and was about to thank him when a cold voice interrupted him: "Just do what she says."
Only then did Feng Jian notice that there was a person standing against the wall. He had short brown hair, was wearing the same black uniform, and was carrying a sky-blue sports bag. His fingertips were unconsciously stroking the bag strap, and the leather was wrinkled by his fingertips.
He didn't look at her, his eyes fell on the line "Carrot Beef Stew" on the menu, and there seemed to be a pile of snow between his brows.
"Captain Tezuka..." Momoshiro's voice suddenly dropped an octave, as if his throat was pinched.
Fengjian April was slightly stunned.
In her previous life, she had only seen him on the news—
When he won the Australian Grand Slam, the camera swept across his calm profile and said that he was "the hope of Japanese tennis", but he suddenly retired after winning the championship.
As for the reason for his retirement, the magazine guessed countless versions, some said that he injured his hand, some said that he was tired of the arena, but she remembered that at the award ceremony, when he looked at the national flag, his eyes seemed to be covered with a layer of mist.
Before she could think about it, the man had already withdrawn his gaze and said to Taocheng, "We have a practice match next week. Don't eat anything until your wound heals." With that, he found an empty table and sat down. He pulled a notebook from his bag and began flipping through it, not looking up again.
"Ah, yes!" Momoshiro quickly agreed, and as he took the menu, he whispered to Kazama, "Thank you, Kazama-san."
She nodded, turned and walked towards the kitchen. She heard Kikumaru joking with a smile behind her: "Tezuka actually cares about such things~" Along with Momoshiro's hurried excuse of "Don't talk nonsense", there was also the sound of very light paper rustling.
At the kitchen door, Sister Ling was carrying out soup and glanced at the table: "Is it your classmates? They look quite energetic."
"Yes, from the tennis team." Feng Jie took the soup bowl, and her fingertips touched the warm porcelain wall. She suddenly remembered the boy's notebook just now - it seemed to be the same brand as the hard-cover notebook on her desk.
I wonder if it’s like Sister Ling’s account book, filled with densely packed data that cannot be wrong at all?
As night fell, the street lights lit up one after another.
Fengjian wiped his wet hair and pushed the door open to enter the room.
The layout of the room on the second floor was exactly the same as I remembered: there was a poster of Natsume Soseki on the wall, her copy of "I Am a Cat" with pages missing was on the third shelf of the bookshelf, and the diary on the desk was open, with March 31st circled in black pen - the last day of spring break.
"What are you daydreaming about?" Sister Ling came in with a fruit plate and stuffed a strawberry into her mouth. Seeing the diary on the table, she smiled and said, "You've been keeping this diary since elementary school."
The sour and sweet taste of strawberry exploded on the tip of his tongue. Feng Jian suddenly covered his mouth and choked on the juice and went downstairs to find water to drink.
Another thought popped up in her mind. She suddenly remembered that at this time in her previous life, Sister Ling's cough had become very frequent, but she always said it was a "minor problem" and it wasn't until the autumn that pneumonia was diagnosed...
"Sister Ling," she swallowed her juice, her voice tense, "I'll go to the hospital with you after school tomorrow. Let's get a physical examination."
Sister Ling cleared the plates without even looking up: "Why waste that money? With my physique, I could carry a bag of rice up to the third floor without even getting out of breath."
"But......"
Sister Ling interrupted her directly, "Go to bed quickly. Don't be late for the opening ceremony tomorrow. Last year, you were punished by the discipline committee for oversleeping."
Feng Jian had no choice but to swallow his words and go upstairs obediently.
Although she went to bed early the night before, she was still late the next day.
As she rushed through the Qing School gates, the morning reading bell had just rung for the final time. The glare from the discipline committee member's glasses blocked her at the entrance to the teaching building. "Kazama April, Grade 2, Group 8, 3 minutes and 20 seconds late."
She ran towards the classroom with her head down, but someone poked her in the back, stopping her in her tracks. Gen Chiba, slumped over the corridor railing, grinning like a thieving cat, said, "There are only two latecomers in the entire school: you and Momoshiro. But he was just caught running by Tezuka-senpai."
Fengjian followed her gaze and saw a young man with a puffy hair running wildly on the playground track, sweating profusely. A figure in sportswear stood by the track, his back straight, and the black wrist guard on his wrist was very conspicuous in the sun.
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