Chapter 83

*Campus IF Line — “Date”*
“What’s the capital like? Is the north very cold? Is it snowing?”
Qin Sang had never thought about leaving Ningjiang, nor about going anywhere far. But now, it was as if she had suddenly developed a fierce longing for a certain city—because of someone.
What was Jingcheng like? It must be very prosperous, right? There was the Bird’s Nest and the Forbidden City. She wanted so badly to go to Tiananmen to watch the flag-raising, to climb the Great Wall and see with her own eyes the magnificent works described in history books.
“Mm.” Xie Yuncheng’s voice was clear and low, as if mixed with the scent of frost and snow. “It’s snowing. It’s very cold.”
“That’s so nice.” Qin Sang stood by her bedroom window and looked outside. Thousands of lights shimmered. The red lanterns hanging at the doorway were like flames in the dark. The night was clean and clear—only the moonlight was dim.
She said wistfully, “Ningjiang doesn’t have snow. It doesn’t even have the moon.”
Ningjiang’s winters were cold too—the damp, penetrating kind of cold in the air. You still had to wrap up in a down jacket when you went out. But there was no snow. The only heavy snow she remembered seeing was in 2008, when the south had a major snowfall.
Back then, snow flew everywhere, bending the poplar trees and old pagoda trees in the yard. When she and her parents went back to their hometown to visit her grandparents, they got stuck halfway. The road ahead was being repaired. That sudden heavy snow had caused disasters in many southern cities, restricting roads.
They were forced to spend a reunion New Year inside the car. Many uncles and aunties—long-haul freight drivers rushing home for the holiday—gathered together, set up a small roadside stall to warm themselves by a fire, then cobbled together everyone’s New Year’s goods and cooked a hotpot.
The hotpot was scalding. She burned her mouth into ulcers. Her dad laughed at her for being greedy and eating carelessly. It hurt so badly tears welled up—until Dad finally scooped up some clean snow from leaves and pressed it to her mouth.
The snow tasted like hotpot, melting in her mouth.
She talked in a jumble. “Hotpot—right, we ate hotpot today too. Bright red beef-tallow hotpot. The fish balls and beef balls were all made by my mom. Super clean. But I ate so little. I’m scared I’ll get ulcers.”
Ningjiang and Jingcheng’s tastes were different. Jingcheng’s local taste ran light, but Ningjiang favored heavy oil and heavy spice. Home-cooked dishes and hotpot were both spicy-base.
Qin Sang could eat spicy food, but she got “heat” easily. Every time she ate hotpot she got ulcers and it hurt terribly, making her want to eat but not dare to really indulge.
Curious, her words were full of that age’s naive innocence, full of longing for a prosperous metropolis she’d never seen. “Is the capital’s hotpot the same as Ningjiang’s?”
It was mostly her talking while Xie Yuncheng listened. He chuckled softly, the laugh low and indistinct, like a current of electricity running across her palm—tingly and numb.
“Not the same. The authentic old Jingbei style is copper-pot mutton hotpot. If you want to eat it, next time I’ll take you to try it.”
“Okay!” Qin Sang sounded light and happy, but then dimmed again. Absentmindedly, she fiddled with the dusty miller by the window. “In the future, are you going to live in Jingcheng? Do you want to take the Tsinghua exam?”
“Hm?”
“That day I heard the homeroom teacher trying to persuade you to join Tsinghua’s Strong Foundation Program…”
That day she had only gone to deliver homework. She happened to hear the homeroom teacher persuading him. She’d heard that in recent years the Strong Foundation Program had been reformed, and the majors available were no longer so limited. Aerospace and aeronautics, and aircraft power engineering and the like had been added. Given Xie Yuncheng’s credentials and his aspirations, participating in the Strong Foundation Program couldn’t have been more fitting.
The homeroom teacher spoke earnestly: “The teacher knows your abilities. I’m telling you this because I hope to give you one more option. Think it through—this opportunity is once in a lifetime.”
Normally, the Strong Foundation Program only opened for applications in senior year, unless you were exceptionally outstanding in the natural sciences. Someone like Xie Yuncheng could be selected and trained in advance, joining cultivation experiments—the so-called Zhufeng Program.
She hadn’t had a very concrete sense of just how outstanding Xie Yuncheng was—perhaps because he was too close. But only then did she learn: what separated her and Xie Yuncheng was far more than a small gap.
Between her and him was heaven and earth—an entire Milky Way, an unbridgeable chasm.
Xie Yuncheng was silent for a few seconds. His voice sounded like a sigh. “I’m still considering it.”
“Hm? Why do you still have to consider it?”
Qin Sang reacted. “Actually, the homeroom teacher is right. If there’s such a good opportunity, you should seize it.”
“Do you really want me to participate?”
“No.” Qin Sang pressed her lips together. “It’s not what I want—it’s you. Don’t you really like aerospace? I don’t really understand, but I know our country doesn’t have many applicants for that major every year. It’s still a rather niche, academic field. What I mean is—if it’s your dream, then you shouldn’t hesitate because of anything.”
Xie Yuncheng’s voice was steady and clear. “Sang-sang, do you want to go to the capital?”
Qin Sang felt a little lost. She had never been ambitious, with no clear life goal. She didn’t even know what she wanted to do in the future. That was why she actually envied people like her cousin and Xie Yuncheng—people who knew from the start what they wanted and what they wanted to do.
“I don’t know.”
“But…”
She thought, then said, “If there were someone familiar there, I probably wouldn’t be afraid. I really want to see Jingbei’s snow, and…”
And you in Jingbei.
“I’ll try my best,” Qin Sang wasn’t the type to wallow. On the day the new year arrived, she made a solemn promise. “One day, I’ll see Jingbei’s snow with my own eyes.”
“Good.”
The boy’s low laughter was mixed by Jingbei’s howling winter wind into something like cotton fluff—swaying and drifting until it seemed to land in the little city of Ningjiang.
Jingbei’s wind crossed oceans, passed through thorny forests, and brushed over Yunan.
She still didn’t understand that this gently swaying wind had a name: longing.
…
In early spring of 2013, Qin Sang wrapped herself like a rice dumpling. Over her thick down jacket she wore a blue-and-white school uniform, shrinking her hands and feet as she stood at the pancake stall on the corner.
“Two eggs, please. Crispy cracker. No lettuce, no ketchup. I want chili sauce—extra chili.”
“Not afraid of getting ulcers anymore?”
Qin Sang reacted and lifted her lashes to look over. After the steaming white fog dispersed, that familiar outline gradually appeared.
The boy’s brows and eyes were clear and gentle. Wearing a long black down coat, he didn’t look bulky at all—if anything, he looked even leaner and taller.
He suddenly leaned in, startling Qin Sang. She stammered, “H-happy New Year.”
Even though they’d chatted during winter break, through a virtual network it still wasn’t like this. It had been over a month without seeing him. He seemed taller, and somehow… different.
“Happy New Year, Sang-sang.”
Xie Yuncheng smiled warmly.
Qin Sang lowered her face. The old lady making the pancake said, “Girl, your pancake is ready.”
“Thank you, Grandma.”
Qin Sang reached out to take it but was a step too late. Her fingers brushed the boy’s cool skin. Her gaze flickered. She reflexively tried to pull back, but she was held, and the hot pancake was placed safely back into her hand.
When they entered the classroom together, Liu Chengcheng teased ambiguously: “Not bad—moving fast. One winter break and you’re already going to school together, coming and going together.”
Qin Sang panicked. “No! We just happened to run into each other.”
Liu Chengcheng only shrugged noncommittally. Before she could say more, the homeroom teacher arrived.
At the new term, aside from the usual boilerplate, he also mentioned something very important: they were about to enter second year, so they needed to prepare for choosing their subject track.
“Have you decided what you’ll choose? I bet God Xie will definitely do science—he’s so strong. What about you, Sang-sang? Are you going to do science too?”
Qin Sang shook her head. “I haven’t decided yet.”
…
After entering the new school year, time seemed to suddenly become much tighter. Even the class atmosphere grew tense.
Qin Sang studied even harder. Her grades actually weren’t top-tier. Last term she’d only stepped into the grade’s top ten by overperforming. In reality, her level could only stay steadily midrange.
If she chose science, with her ability it would probably be a struggle. She already had uneven strengths. If she chose humanities, it would likely be easier.
Maybe her expression was too obvious. Xie Yuncheng saw through her thoughts. He paused, then said, “Sang-sang, you should consider it from your perspective. Whether you choose humanities or science, the ultimate goal is still to plan for your own future. What do you want to do later?”
What did she want to do?
Qin Sang felt even more at a loss. If she said she had no dream, would it make her seem unambitious?
Softly, Qin Sang said, “I want to be a dried salted fish. Even if I turn over, I’m still salted fish jerky.”
She didn’t know what point of humor she’d hit, but Xie Yuncheng laughed softly. “Being able to maintain a stable life state isn’t bad either.”
Qin Sang was surprised. “Don’t you think that’s… lacking in aspiration?”
Xie Yuncheng smiled. “Sang-sang, aspiration is relative. Who said everyone has to live the same kind of life?”
“My dad says that too.” Qin Sang smiled. “If he met you, he’d definitely be happy. It’s not easy to find a kindred spirit.”
Xie Yuncheng raised his brows. “In that case, I still have an advantage. At least in the future, Uncle probably won’t dislike me too much.”
“Dislike?” Qin Sang didn’t understand.
His smile was meaningful. “After all, no father in the world can accept his daughter being ‘stolen’ away.”
Then, with a hint of regret: “Two more years.”
Qin Sang realized belatedly what he meant. She raised her book to hide her burning-red cheeks.
Two more years, until she graduated.
A future full of uncertainty—if the person standing at the far end of that future was him, then she didn’t seem so afraid to face it.
In the spring of 2013, as promised, it arrived. After the early spring cold snap receded, bright vitality returned.
By second year, Qin Sang had fewer and fewer chances to see Xie Yuncheng.
She moved forward step by step along the predetermined track, while he was like a singular pioneer—already breaking away far ahead.
Xie Yuncheng didn’t participate in Tsinghua’s Strong Foundation Program, but he was admitted under special exception—already guaranteed admission to Tsinghua in advance.
On the eve of the college entrance exam, when they took graduation photos, she finally saw Xie Yuncheng again.
She stood right in front of him, the photo capturing their most youthful faces.
She carefully preserved that photo, then—egged on by Liu Chengcheng—went to ask Xie Yuncheng for his second button.
The breeze brushed her skirt hem. Cicadas rang through midsummer.
The boy stood lean as bamboo. He tore off that button and placed it in her palm. His eyes were deep yet exceptionally clear. “Sang-sang, good luck on the gaokao.”
In the summer of 2014, Qin Dahai and Wen Shuyu saw her to the exam room.
She finished smoothly. When she privately estimated her score afterward, it felt like she’d done pretty well. Before heading to the next “battlefield,” the class group chat was all inviting everyone to one last get-together.
Someone @-mentioned Xie Yuncheng, but he didn’t reply. Instead, Jiang Mingyi said: “He’s in the capital—probably can’t make it back. Busy preparing enrollment materials.”
The class monitor @-mentioned her in the group: “Sang-sang, the graduation gathering is on Saturday. Are you coming?”
“I can’t,” Qin Sang replied. “I don’t have time that day.”
“What are you doing? Got a date?”
Qin Sang replied: “Mm. It’s a very important date.”