Chapter 91

*Campus IF Line — “Graduation”*
Not long after school started, the clubs began recruiting new members too. Early one morning, Qin Sang was dragged out to stroll around. Along the way, she saw many strange clubs—rollerblading club, hanfu club, and even a poetry-friends club.
The Yungui girl planned to join the Literature Society, and the southern Fujian girl had already made preparations as well. She wanted to join the Student Union and was getting ready to interview for the Discipline Inspection Department. Everyone’s interests were different, and they’d all made their choices early.
Only Qin Sang was still confused. She didn’t know what club to join. She seemed to have no particular hobby.
In the past she only thought about studying and going to class. After school, even when she stayed at home, her head was full of problems. It was like, aside from doing exercises, she couldn’t think of anything else.
The southern Fujian girl suggested, “Sang-sang, why don’t you sign up for the Student Union too? I heard the External Relations Department is recruiting. Didn’t you want to train your social skills? External Relations is perfect for you. And Senior Jian Tong is there, so you won’t have to worry about having no one to look after you.”
Qin Sang thought for a moment, then shook her head lightly. “Forget it. I’m not suitable.”
If she went to be a coordinator—planning, organizing, and coordinating all kinds of activities, being responsible for communication among departments, and even with other schools and some companies, establishing a good foundation for exchange, and then helping pull sponsorships—just thinking about it made her scalp go numb. It would be easier to just cut her down with one stroke; why torture her slowly like that?
The southern Fujian girl shrugged, noncommittal.
…
That night, Qin Sang lay on her dorm bed. After hesitating for a long time, she still couldn’t resist poking that black avatar.
Classmate San-You: 【Have you joined any clubs? You said…】
Qin Sang paused a moment and typed hesitantly.
【If I don’t join any club at all… will I look like I don’t fit in?】
Perhaps he was busy; he didn’t reply immediately.
Qin Sang sighed softly. Her gaze shifted away from the narrow phone screen and fixed on the wall lamp as she stared blankly.
But thinking about it, it made sense. He had many major courses and heavy tasks. He probably didn’t have time to join club activities. And with his trouble-averse temperament, he likely wouldn’t compromise just to appear “social.”
Thinking of how he had been in high school for three years—so proud and unrestrained—Qin Sang couldn’t help laughing.
He seemed to never need to deliberately cater to any group. Instead, others would naturally gather around him.
Perhaps some people were simply born as the focus of the crowd; people would automatically follow their figure and their steps, moving forward little by little.
…
The dorm had already turned off the lights when Xie Yuncheng finally saw her message.
He glanced at the content, raised his brow, and replied:
【Why are you asking that?】
Perhaps because she truly felt troubled, even her replies looked tangled.
【Because…】
【It feels like everyone has something they really want to do, goals in life, interests and hobbies. People become members of a group naturally because of those things.】
【I don’t know what I like, and I don’t have anything I’m especially good at.】
When she was little, she loved dancing, so Qin Dahai sent her to a dance studio. Back then their town only had one formal studio, and it was far from their home. Every weekend, Qin Dahai had to get up early and take her to dance class.
Later she signed up for a Tao Li Cup competition and even won a prize. Back then, Qin Dahai was so happy he nearly tossed her up into the air.
Only later, when she climbed a tree with Xiaoyan to pick fruit, she fell and injured her leg. Her Achilles tendon ruptured, and she could no longer continue learning dance.
She lost the only ability that could be called talent. That was why, in the years since, she rarely brought it up on her own.
She knew her parents were sad for her. She didn’t want them to be disappointed, so she acted like she didn’t care at all.
【Since you don’t have one, then don’t do anything.】
【If you want to try more possibilities, you can do whatever you want. There’s no need to change yourself just to “fit in.”】
【Sang-sang, before you become your ideal self, you first have to find yourself.】
The light was dim; only a small desk lamp was still on. Qin Sang tossed and turned. Holding her phone, she secretly tucked it beneath her pillow, as if that would let her hear his voice.
Qin Sang still didn’t join any club. She only did something one day when she had just gotten out of class—Jian Tong called her: “Sang-sang, can you help me go back to the dorm and grab some materials? It’s like this, I can’t get away right now, and they’re still in class. Only you can help me.”
Jian Tong sounded urgent. Qin Sang agreed without thinking. “Okay.”
Jian Tong exhaled in relief. “Then once you’ve got it, you can go straight to the Drama Club. Just give it to their vice president. Sorry to trouble you, Sang-sang. When I’m back later, I’ll treat you to dinner.”
Jian Tong was brisk and stormy; she hung up after only a few sentences.
Qin Sang shook her head helplessly. She went back to the dorm and, following Jian Tong’s instructions, found the kraft paper envelope that had been clipped inside.
But the Drama Club? Jingbei University even had such a club?
Qin Sang was puzzled.
She had been at school for so long and hadn’t heard of it. On club recruitment day, she seemed not to have seen the Drama Club people come out either.
Qin Sang asked around and found the Drama Club, but she came at a bad time. They were rehearsing. It was pitch-dark all around, with only the theatre stage lights on.
Qin Sang didn’t dare go up and interrupt. She hugged the kraft paper envelope and waited beneath the stage.
At first she didn’t pay much attention. But slowly, as she kept watching, she got drawn in. The drama actors’ line delivery was excellent; the performance had strong emotional pull. She was gradually brought into the scene, as if she were there herself. When the curtain fell, Qin Sang couldn’t help clapping on her own; the corners of her eyes were damp with tears.
“Hey, little freshman.”
By coincidence, the senior who had proactively led her to the archaeology department on registration day was also a Drama Club member.
Seeing someone familiar out of nowhere, Qin Sang was a little dazed. “S-senior?”
The boy grinned broadly. “Why are you here? Watching our rehearsal?”
Qin Sang remembered and shook her head. “No. Senior Jian Tong from External Relations asked me to deliver a document to the Drama Club vice president. Senior, can you help me find your vice president?”
He laughed. “Just give it to me. I’m the vice president.”
Qin Sang was slightly surprised, but didn’t think too much. She handed the document to him.
He didn’t hurry to open it. Instead he asked with interest, “Little freshman, are you interested in joining our Drama Club?”
“It’s like this,” he explained. “We’ve been rehearsing a new play and we’re about to enter a competition. But right now we’re short one person. The senior sister who originally played this role has been busy preparing for a PhD lately and doesn’t have time to come rehearse, so she quit our club. So, you see… could you come help? Just temporarily fill the slot?”
As he spoke, he patted his chest to guarantee it. “Don’t worry. If you’re willing to help, I definitely won’t treat you badly.”
“I…”
Qin Sang instinctively wanted to refuse. She didn’t think she could do it.
But he seemed to see what she was thinking. He smiled. “Freshman, don’t rush to refuse. How about you go back and think about it? This role actually isn’t very heavy. Take a look—this is our promo poster. It also has the character introduction for this play.”
…
Qin Sang brought the things back to the dorm. As soon as she entered, her roommates had already returned from class. Seeing the poster in her hand, they were surprised. “Hey, isn’t this our school’s Drama Club promo poster? Sang-sang, did you join the Drama Club?”
Qin Sang shook her head. “No.”
“Oh.” The Yungui girl said, “I thought you joined. I heard from seniors in our club that our school’s Drama Club selection is super strict. A lot of people went to interview and got cut. Only two or three arts-department freshmen passed, right?”
The southern Fujian girl didn’t understand. “Can it be stricter than the Student Union?”
“That’s different,” the Yungui girl explained. “The Student Union—if we’re being blunt—is pure bureaucracy. But the Drama Club is different. Do you know how many years our school’s Drama Club has been around? More than thirty. National first-class stage actress Teacher Yang Yanhong—you’ve heard her name, right? She used to be one of the founding members of our Drama Club.”
“I know!” The southern Fujian girl was surprised. “My grandma loves Liyuan opera. Her favorite is Teacher Yang’s ‘Gao Wenju.’ I thought Teacher Yang was trained in opera. So she also graduated from Jingbei? That’s so amazing—and she’s a drama actress.”
“That’s shallow,” the Yungui girl said, educating her. “Teacher Yang is from southern Fujian, but she’s not formally trained in opera. She’s a talented woman from Jingbei’s Finance Department.”
“So impressive,” someone sighed sincerely.
The Yungui girl looked at Qin Sang. “Sang-sang, I’m being serious. How did you end up going to the Drama Club? Interested in it?”
“No,” Qin Sang said. “I went to help Senior Jian Tong deliver something. I happened to catch their rehearsal. Their vice president said they were short a person recently, and asked me to take it back and consider whether I want to join their club.”
Hearing that, the two girls’ eyes lit up. “Of course you should! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”
Qin Sang smiled helplessly. “But I’ve never acted, and I haven’t watched many plays.”
“So what? Join and you’ll learn. No one is born knowing everything. If you don’t try, how will you know you can’t?”
…
Qin Sang thought about it. She read the character introduction on the poster carefully. She was hesitant, but also a little tempted.
Find herself?
If she didn’t try, how could she ever find herself?
Qin Sang considered it for a long time. In the end, she couldn’t resist that little thought. She stopped insisting and chose to compromise, joining the Drama Club.
By her roommates’ account, the Drama Club wasn’t easy to join; the entry requirements were high. Even though it was an emergency and they truly lacked a person, the process still had to be followed, otherwise it wouldn’t be fair to other members.
“Don’t be nervous. It’s just an entry interview. Just perform normally and it’ll be fine. But do you have any talents? It’s best to prepare something you’re good at.”
The vice president saw that Qin Sang looked nervous and kindly comforted her.
“Talents?” Qin Sang hesitated. “Classical dance—is that okay?”
“That would be even better.”
Only, she hadn’t danced in a long time. Although her leg had healed, she had never tried again since the Achilles rupture. For her health, the doctor didn’t recommend she continue; she hadn’t performed in front of people for many years.
The candidates in front of her had many talents. She clenched her hands, sweat dampening her palms.
When it was her turn, after the routine questions came the talent performance. Qin Sang closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Only then did she calm down, trying hard to recall the movements her teacher had taught her in the past.
Truthfully, compared to the members who trained professionally, she was far behind. But her movements were smooth and flowing, soft and nimble.
This recruitment only accepted three people; Qin Sang was one of them. The vice president wanted her to fill in for that senior sister’s role, so he gave her the script.
Qin Sang had never studied acting. There was no time to polish slowly. She could only practice privately. Whenever she had no classes, she went to watch how others performed.
She went to the club whenever she had time. Often her shadow couldn’t be found. Not to mention phone calls—even her frequency of messaging dropped a lot.
After a long time, not only outsiders—Zhou Yihong even started worrying that maybe he’d been dumped.
Zhou Yihong patted his shoulder earnestly and advised, “It’s fine. I think the little freshman probably just can’t stand your cold personality, so she’s fighting with you. You coax her properly; maybe she’ll change her mind.”
Xie Yuncheng glanced at him with a half-smile. “Senior Zhou is very experienced?”
“Of course. Your senior, I—”
Zhou Yihong’s words cut off. That was close—he almost got tricked into talking.
He coughed, then said seriously, “Aiya, breaking up is breaking up. It’s not a big deal. If it really doesn’t work, your senior will set up a gathering for you. Maybe you’ll meet your second spring.”
Xie Yuncheng snorted. “Senior Zhou, instead of worrying about imaginary things here, you should worry more about yourself.”
“…”
There. A good heart treated like donkey liver and lungs.
Can’t afford to offend him; better to avoid him.
Zhou Yihong raised his hand in surrender. “Pretend I didn’t say anything, okay?”
…
During this time, Qin Sang really did contact him less. The two times she called, it was rushed; there were people calling her name on the other side of the phone: “Sang-sang, hurry up, it’s about to start.”
“Oh, coming,” Qin Sang answered, then hurriedly replied, “Sorry, I’m a bit busy. After I get back to the dorm later, I’ll call you again.”
They hadn’t even spoken a few sentences before she hung up.
Zhou Yihong was amazed. There were actually people in this world who could hang up on Xie Yuncheng. You had to know that normally, the “use and discard” treatment was something only they ever got.
Zhou Yihong gloated. “The little freshman really is busy lately, huh. She doesn’t even have time to take calls. If I didn’t mishear, just now it sounded like someone was calling her, right?”
His roommate understood and deliberately added, “Sounds like a male voice. Could it be some pursuer?”
“Hard to say,” another roommate said. “The little freshman is pretty and has a good personality. She should be popular at their school. After all, there’s a barrier between schools. Different schools are like long-distance; meeting is inconvenient, let alone dating. Near water gets the moon first. Even if the little freshman’s heart is steady as a rock and cannot be turned, it’s hard to guarantee certain people won’t pry at the wall and chisel open a crack.”
“Are you all very idle?” Xie Yuncheng’s expression was cold.
When he stood up, Zhou Yihong shrugged. After he left, the others exchanged a tacit high-five in celebration.
Xie Yuncheng had always acted superior, and ever since his relationship was made public, he was even more brazen about showing affection, completely disregarding their feelings as older single men.
Serves him right to feel anxious. He should eat some losses; otherwise all the suffocation they had swallowed for so long would’ve been swallowed in vain.
Zhou Yihong smiled. “I bet he’s jumping with anxiety and ran to find the little freshman. Want to bet? Whoever loses washes the whole dorm’s socks unconditionally for a week.”
“Damn, you’re too devious. You picked the most favorable terms. I’m betting he’s 100% going over.”
“I’m not betting. I don’t want to wash your stinky socks.”
…
Qin Sang returned to the dorm before lights-out. She had just finished showering. Her hair was still damp, not fully dried; the ends were wet, and water seeped into her nightdress.
To avoid affecting her roommates’ rest, she rarely talked on the phone in the dorm room. Instead she stood alone on the small balcony. Tonight the moon was bright and the stars were few, with no wind and no rain.
She called back. The call connected quickly.
“Um… I was busy rehearsing during the day, so I hung up your call.”
On the other side, there was only a faint “Mm.”
Qin Sang tested cautiously. “You didn’t get angry, did you?”
“What do you think?”
His tone was indistinct; she couldn’t hear obvious emotion.
She had hung up suddenly; she hadn’t had time to say more.
Qin Sang hesitated. “Sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?”
The phone carried a low, warm laugh. The boy’s voice was slightly hoarse, yet there was no displeasure. “Sang-sang, do you think being busy with your own things is a mistake? Or, in your heart, am I actually that hard to get along with?”
“I didn’t think that…”
She touched the tip of her nose, embarrassed.
The night wind rose. The howling wind mixed with a faint, almost imperceptible sigh. “Sang-sang, you don’t need to be so cautious. Before loving someone else, love yourself first. You found something you want to do and have your own life; this is a good thing.”
“Just remember: when you get tired sometimes, stop and rest.”
…
Zhou Yihong’s bet ended up losing. He washed the other two men’s socks for a week.
He couldn’t understand. How could Xie Yuncheng keep his composure? They were so close—yet he didn’t go take a look. Was he not worried that someone would pry at his wall?
Zhou Yihong questioned him in suspicion, but the answer made people want to punch him.
At that time, Xie Yuncheng was preparing for an aerospace vehicle competition. Besides Qingda, the competition was jointly hosted by HIT, Beihang, and more than a dozen other universities.
Hearing this, Xie Yuncheng only glanced at Zhou Yihong coolly, neither cold nor warm. “I know what kind of person my girlfriend is. Besides—”
He lazily lifted his eyelids and snorted. “I don’t think I would lose to anyone.”
“Damn.”
His tone was arrogant as hell, yet it was also true, and the persuasiveness was strong. Zhou Yihong couldn’t help cursing once, then couldn’t help feeling depressed.
Why was God so unfair? Some people were born as heaven’s favored; some people were born as slaves meant to work like oxen and horses.
Zhou Yihong held it in for a long time. In the end, he could only give a convinced thumbs-up. “You’re awesome.”
-
During rehearsals, Qin Sang still caught a cold. In the morning, she woke up dizzy; her eyes felt sore too. She forced herself up from bed.
“Sang-sang, why don’t you rest in the dorm for a day? Let your classmates help you ask for leave,” her roommate said.
Qin Sang shook her head. Her nasal voice was heavy. “Today we have to hand in group work. The presentation USB is still with me.”
“Alright. Be careful then.”
Qin Sang nodded. Afraid of infecting others, she put on her mask before going to the classroom.
After class, she couldn’t hold on anymore. She barely dragged herself back to the dorm, then lay on her bed and slept in a haze, not even hearing her phone ring.
Half-dreaming, she only heard many people talking, then a familiar voice: “Sang-sang?”
Qin Sang drowsily opened her eyes, but it was like looking through fog; she couldn’t see the moving figures clearly.
When she woke up again, it was nearly evening.
Seeing her awake, Jian Tong, who had been dozing at the side, also woke. “Sang-sang, are you feeling better?”
“Senior Jian Tong?” Qin Sang’s arm felt numb and hard to move. She struggled instinctively but was pressed down.
“Don’t move. Wait a bit—once the blood comes back, you’ll be fine.”
Only then did Qin Sang realize that she was on an IV. She was confused. “What happened to me?”
“You nearly scared us to death. The dorm door was closed; no matter how we knocked, we couldn’t get in. Later we found you passed out in the dorm, burning hot. Your fever was really high.”
Qin Sang felt embarrassed. “Sorry for making you worry… and for troubling you to send me to the hospital.”
Jian Tong waved her hands quickly; she didn’t dare take credit. “It wasn’t us. The one who brought you was Junior Xie. I messaged him in the morning that you were sick and he rushed over immediately. Later the dorm door was locked—Junior Xie was the one who broke it open. He brought you over and stayed with you for a long time. He was just called by the doctor to go pay.”
“Speak of the devil,” Jian Tong said as she spotted Xie Yuncheng. She stood up. “Okay, since you’re awake, I won’t be a lightbulb here. I’m heading back to school. Rest well.”
“Oh, right,” she added with an ambiguous smile before leaving. “No need to rush back to the dorm. We already asked the counselor for leave. You can stay out for two days to rest.”
“…”
After Jian Tong left, only she and Xie Yuncheng faced each other. She had a high fever and severe dehydration. Now that she was awake, her mouth was so dry, and her throat was itchy too. She couldn’t help swallowing.
A hand appeared in front of her. Long knuckles held a yellowish disposable paper cup.
Qin Sang obediently let him feed her water. She drank too fast and coughed twice.
He patted her back, laughing helplessly. “Drink slower.”
“Oh my,” the aunt in the neighboring bed said with a smile. “Little girl, your boyfriend is so good. Ever since you came in, he’s been guarding you, not leaving even a step. When you weren’t awake, he even got water to wipe your face and hands, and used alcohol to cool your fever. Listen to Auntie: you can’t let a boyfriend like this run away. I’ve been married for so many years—my old man, forget taking care of me, I can’t even get him to bring me a cup of water.”
Qin Sang lowered her lashes, wiped the water from the corner of her lips, and the tips of her ears were red too. She didn’t know whether it was because her fever hadn’t fully gone down, or because she was simply shy.
“Auntie, please don’t tease her,” Xie Yuncheng said smoothly. “My girlfriend is thin-skinned. She gets embarrassed easily.”
“I understand, I understand,” the aunt said with a knowing expression. “You young people are thin-skinned; you can’t bring yourselves to show it.”
…
Qin Sang had been seriously ill, but luckily it was only a fever, and now it had retreated.
Xie Yuncheng pressed his hand to her forehead to check her temperature. Only after confirming it was down did he relax.
“Give me the thermometer.”
Qin Sang took out the mercury thermometer and handed it to him.
“Thirty-seven degrees. Fever’s down.”
She didn’t know if it was her imagination, but she felt like Xie Yuncheng seemed a little different today compared to usual.
That strange feeling stayed until the IV finished. When they left the hospital, she followed behind him. Her head was still muddled, so she didn’t notice an electric scooter that suddenly darted out from behind.
She was yanked hard. Her body crashed into the man’s chest. Close enough, she could hear his rapid heartbeat by her ear.
He frowned, serious. “Why aren’t you watching the road?”
Her gaze was blank; her eyes held a faint watery sheen.
He seemed to sigh softly, then lifted his hand and casually rubbed the top of her head twice. He rubbed her hair until it was messy. He raised his brow. “Did the fever make you stupid? Why are you so dazed and silly?”
Just recovering from illness, her reactions were slow. It took her a long time to come back to herself, yet she still couldn’t help sneezing.
His brows were still knit. He held her cold hand, thumb brushing over the taped needle mark. He wrapped her hand fully and stuffed it into his pocket to warm it.
She had taken leave and couldn’t return to the dorm. Only when Qin Sang followed Xie Yuncheng into a small apartment did she finally come back to herself.
“Where is this?”
“My home.”
“Your home?”
Qin Sang was truly confused.
Xie Yuncheng curled his lips. “What, now you know to be afraid? Qin Sang little friend, do you know what happens when you follow a man home late at night?”
She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “You won’t.”
Xie Yuncheng raised his brow. “That confident in me?”
She nodded seriously. “You’re a good person.”
It was the kind of line that sounded as cliché as a crime movie.
Yet he really was like that. He’d had many opportunities. She had even allowed it. But he still held the line.
“Not the time yet, Sang-sang. Wait a bit longer.”
He said he wanted to wait—wait until she graduated, wait until she had the ability to tell what future she truly wanted. By then, if she was still willing, he would break the line.
But before that, he would not cross the last threshold.
She wasn’t stupid. With hormones surging, seventeen- and eighteen-year-old boys were at their strongest. Many boys that age didn’t consider a distant future; they couldn’t even manage the present. There were few boys at that age who would consider a partner’s feelings.
They were exploring a world that was hidden and hazy to them both, and he was using his own way to help her understand and face her own desire.
Having desire was not something to be ashamed of.
In this, she should be the beneficiary. He was the one leading, yet he often ignored his own feelings and served her instead.
She knew what kind of person he was. Back in Class One, he looked cold and detached, not like someone who would stand up for class honor.
Yet every sports day, no matter which event lacked people, as long as they needed him and as long as the class committee wrote his name, he wouldn’t refuse.
He was better than most people—better than every man she had met in her short life.
Only compared with her father, he was a little inferior.
Her father, in her heart, would always be first.
Qin Sang got silly whenever she got sick; even her speech became rambling. Whatever she thought, she said.
She said, “You’re the best person I’ve ever met—only a little worse than my dad. My dad is first. You’re second.”
“So low,” the boy said.
His gaze swept over her clear brows and eyes; his voice was very low. “What if I say I only want to be first here?”
He pressed his hand at the position of her left chest. Her heartbeat was not fast.
Qin Sang was strange too. Her fever had just gone down; she was still muddled, yet sometimes she was very clear.
Like now: she furrowed her brow as if thinking very seriously. After thinking for a long time, she still shook her head. “No. Dad’s position will always be first.”
Xie Yuncheng curled his lips, deep eyes warm. “Then Sang-sang should at least compensate your ‘second’ a little?”
“I’m sick.”
“Mm?”
Qin Sang lowered her voice. “I still have a slight fever.”
He laughed low. His Adam’s apple rolled; his voice was thick. “Mm. I know.”
She closed her eyes. Her lashes were damp and trembling, yet she didn’t stop him from coming closer.
She made a small sound, weak and powerless. “It… it’ll be contagious.”
He answered with a smile, “I don’t mind.”
…
Qin Sang rested in the apartment for two days before she figured out: this apartment was bought by Xie Yuncheng himself.
This was different from her situation. Her house had been bought by Qin Dahai so she would have a place to live in the future. He gritted his teeth to pay the down payment and was still paying the loan monthly. For now, the property was under her uncle’s name, and it would only be transferred after she graduated.
Her house was a secondhand place, not large. You had to use stairs. Because it was an old neighborhood, there was no scenery or greenery around; it was crowded, and the corridors were narrow.
This place was different: the view was wide, the facilities were complete, and even the community’s landscaping was well done. When you opened the door, your eyes were full of green shade.
And she relied on her parents, while he relied on himself.
When Qin Sang asked, he answered lightly, “Sold two stocks over the summer. It happened to be enough.”
Qin Sang clicked her tongue silently. Sure enough, people were different; some people bought a home in the capital before even graduating.
“Sang-sang.” Xie Yuncheng lowered his gaze to her. “Do you like it here?”
Qin Sang nodded. “It’s great. The air is good, and the view is good.”
“Mm.” Xie Yuncheng curled his lips. “As long as you like it.”
Qin Sang didn’t understand. “Why?”
“Because in the future, you’ll be the lady of this home.”
…
Qin Sang muddleheadedly got the key to his apartment. He said he had prepared for this place for a long time. Only when he came over in the summer did he finally decide to buy it, sign the purchase contract, and immediately begin preparing renovation.
But he didn’t know what kind of style she liked. So in those two months, when he frequently came and went from her home, he observed everything she liked and gradually inferred her preferences.
He originally wanted to bring her to see it right away, but at that time there were still small finishing works not done, so he didn’t bring her over immediately.
He didn’t only give her the key; he also gave her a bank card.
Qin Sang didn’t understand. “Why are you giving me this?”
Xie Yuncheng curled his lips, his tone relaxed. “Of course it’s to trouble my girlfriend to keep it for me. Use it if you need. Don’t wrong yourself.”
Everything in it was his current assets—money he earned himself. Besides stock profits, part was competition prize money, and part was scholarships.
Perhaps afraid she’d feel burdened, he looked at her eyes seriously and intently. “Sang-sang, I’m not pressuring you. You can have more choices. Even if in the future you ultimately choose someone else, that’s fine. You just need to know: at least here, you have a home.”
He said he would work hard to become her backbone, enough for her to face wind and rain. Maybe she would still fear the unknown, distant future and feel helpless, but at least she wouldn’t retreat; at least she would have the confidence to face it.
When she heard these words, her eyes stung. She cried, embarrassingly.
…
She would absolutely not use the money in the card, and she would absolutely not touch it. His money—she would keep it safe for him and save it bit by bit.
…
After Qin Sang got sick once, Xie Yuncheng called even more often. He practically called twice a day, reminding her to pick up delivery.
It was already near winter. Long-term feeding, and all the things he bought were nourishing and warming; the entire dorm was fattened up a bit.
When weighing themselves, the southern Fujian girl said with pain and joy, “My god, I actually gained five jin. I thought at most three. If God Xie keeps sending stuff like this, I’m definitely going to become a pig head.”
“Yeah,” Jian Tong echoed. “I gained too. You’ve fattened up my autumn weight. Sang-sang, you’re dating one person and the whole dorm is getting ‘happy fat’ with you.”
One person dating, the whole dorm benefits.
Whatever Xie Yuncheng sent her, he never forgot the others’ share. By now, the whole dorm had completely defected to his side.
Qin Sang pinched her little belly and felt troubled too. The performance was coming soon, and she had gained weight instead. If she kept eating, she was afraid she wouldn’t even fit into her costume.
…
Winter in the capital came much earlier than in Jingcheng. By late November, it began to snow. Qin Sang had never seen snow this heavy.
After only one night, thick white snow covered all of Jingbei University. Aside from Jian Tong, her dormmates were all southerners and had never seen heavy snow. Waking up to a ground of white, they all ran wild and played in the snow happily.
Qin Sang built a not-very-successful snowman. She picked up two stones as its eyes, and a little stick as its nose. She happily took a photo with it and sent it over.
Classmate San-You: 【It’s snowing!】
In the photo, the girl’s eyes curved into crescent moons as she smiled; her cheeks were red from the cold. She wore a white down jacket, with the bunny ears on her hood drooping. The snowman beside her was lopsided and bulky, looking dumb.
He lowered his eyes to the screen, his thumb brushing over the girl’s lively brows and eyes. The winter sun was warm; light poured through the floor-to-ceiling window into the classroom, outlining the man’s clear side profile. Even the outlines of his usually cool brows and eyes seemed to dissolve in the broken golden light, holding a faint smile that was unreasonably captivating.
His roommates exchanged glances in secret, silently complaining: demon, demon—what a sin. Already has a girlfriend, yet still seduces others like this. Isn’t he just a male fox spirit?
Zhou Yihong happened to come by. Seeing the scene, he clicked his tongue. “Next time we should report him to the little freshman properly. Look at some people—already taken and still not settled, attracting bees and butterflies. A total troublemaker.”
“Senior Zhou,” a roommate said, draping an arm over his shoulder with a serious face, “I agree with you.”
Xie Yuncheng was truly too hateable. They had to watch him show affection every day.
They were influenced by it, hit by it, poisoned by it, so they were twisted, jealous, crawling in darkness. Besides, this guy was truly too much. Already has a girlfriend and still not settled. Look at him smiling with a spring-breeze face, making other girls’ hearts flutter. He really thinks he’s some thousand-year cold ice that has been enlightened into a saint and descended to save all beings.
Truly sinful. A man who doesn’t keep “male virtue” like this should be dunked in a pig cage.
They thought: next time they got a chance to meet his girlfriend, they would definitely complain and add fuel to the fire, saying some bad things about him, so he wouldn’t keep swaying in front of them every day. It was truly annoying.
-
On the day of Qin Sang’s official performance, her entire dorm came. Even Zhou Yihong and Xie Yuncheng’s other two roommates came.
They came because Jian Tong mentioned it casually; only then did they know Qin Sang had a drama performance today.
Jian Tong waited at the entrance. Seeing only the three of them come, she was puzzled. “Why are only you here? Where is Junior Xie?”
Zhou Yihong explained, “Oh, he got called by our professor to help. He might not make it.”
“Such a coincidence?” Jian Tong sighed. “Then that’s such a pity. Doesn’t that mean he won’t see our Sang-sang’s first time on stage?”
“It’s fine,” Zhou Yihong said, pulling a camera out of his backpack. “Little freshman’s first performance—we should come support her. And we can’t come empty-handed. I’ll record it all. Don’t worry. I guarantee I won’t miss a single one of her expressions.”
“Right,” Zhou Yihong asked, “what role is the little freshman playing?”
Jian Tong pursed her lips. “That one.”
The Drama Club had also taken a role group photo as promotion. But to save money, they had the Photography Club do it.
Zhou Yihong looked over in the direction Jian Tong indicated, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “That role really is… If you don’t look carefully, you can’t tell it’s the little freshman at all.”
Qin Sang, as a newly joined member, being able to fill in was already very good. In such a short time, they truly couldn’t find a more suitable candidate.
This time her role was a European noblewoman from another world. She had to wear a wig and put on heavy makeup. She didn’t have much screen time—only one or two solo scenes; the rest were group scenes. When she first came on, even people who knew her would find it hard to spot her at a glance among so many drama actors.
But she acted very happily. Theatre wasn’t like film and TV; there were no high-definition lenses capturing tiny facial changes. Body movements needed to be exaggerated as much as possible. More importantly, the lines had to be clearly articulated while keeping emotions full. Only then could the audience truly feel the character’s emotional shifts.
Below the stage, Zhou Yihong held his camera and filmed, feeling a little surprised. “Did the little freshman learn acting?”
“She studies archaeology, and she didn’t properly take acting classes,” Jian Tong replied.
Zhou Yihong clicked his tongue. “Then she has talent. Not eating this bowl of rice is truly a pity.”
On stage, Qin Sang saw the dark mass of audience below and felt scared at first. But once she immersed herself in the role, that fear and timidity disappeared.
Only occasionally, when the corner of her eye swept across the crowd and she saw her roommates and Zhou Yihong and the others, yet did not see that familiar figure, her eyes inevitably dimmed with loneliness.
Backstage, waiting for the final judging result, the vice president handed her a bottle of mineral water. “You worked hard.”
“Thank you,” Qin Sang said, forcing the corner of her lips.
She looked listless. The vice president had just started, “If this time we can win an award, Qin—would you be willing to—”
Before he could finish, he was interrupted.
“Wow, did you see? The guy waiting at the back door is so handsome. He’s holding a bouquet—no idea who he’s here for.”
“Why do I feel like he looks familiar? Last time, the person who won first prize in the vehicle competition seems to be him, right?”
“From Qingda next door? Damn, that’s a true science god.”
The moment Qin Sang heard this, she stood up immediately. The vice president was startled; before he could ask, Qin Sang had already lifted her skirt and run out.
In the snow stood a person, wearing a black down jacket. Yet he didn’t look bulky; he looked slender like bamboo. In his arms was a bouquet of sunflowers.
As if he sensed her footsteps, he lifted his eyelids. When he saw her come out, his cool brows and eyes instantly seemed to melt like ice. Thin sunlight fell into his pale eyes like scattered glitter.
Qin Sang took three steps as two and ran, throwing herself into his arms.
“I thought you wouldn’t come.”
On stage, she had looked so many times and never saw his figure. She thought he wouldn’t come.
Xie Yuncheng silently held the girl’s slender waist. The wig on her head had been removed, but the heavy makeup on her face hadn’t been taken off yet.
Qin Sang realized belatedly that her current image was a bit terrible. She cried out, “Ah, I haven’t removed my makeup yet. Don’t look at me.”
She wanted to dodge away, but her waist was held tightly. Warmth fell to her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss.
“Very beautiful.”
“Sang-sang, congratulations. The performance was a success.”
-
Qin Sang’s first time on stage was a strong start. The play performed by Jingbei University won first prize.
A big group went to eat and sing to celebrate. Drama Club members joked that she must have chosen the wrong major. With such a tight mouth, she secretly had a boyfriend yet didn’t leak a hint at all.
Xie Yuncheng’s tone was calm. “Sang-sang doesn’t want to give me a title. Maybe it’s because I still haven’t done well enough.”
It made the Drama Club crowd start speaking up for him, making Qin Sang’s face burn red. She didn’t dare respond directly. Only Zhou Yihong and the others, who knew his nastiness, shook their heads secretly. Such a pot of Longjing green tea—he could really act.
The vice president didn’t know what was going on. When playing games, he suddenly started drinking against Xie Yuncheng.
Only, the vice president lost nine times out of ten. Every time, the one who drank was him. By the end, he was about to throw up and hurriedly raised his hands in surrender.
As someone experienced, Zhou Yihong clicked his tongue in wonder. Young people really couldn’t hold their temper. How could an ordinary person restrain a demon like Xie Yuncheng?
Xie Yuncheng didn’t drink much. When it was time to disperse, he looked even dizzier than the vice president who had drunk several bottles of strong liquor.
He pressed his temple as if uncomfortable. Qin Sang worried. “Are you feeling awful?”
Xie Yuncheng said faintly, “Come here.”
As soon as she got close, he poured most of his strength onto her, circling her in his arms with an absolutely possessive posture.
He curled his lips. “No strength.”
Qin Sang obediently went over, letting him lean. She held his waist with both hands, afraid he wouldn’t stand steady. “It’s okay. I’ll hold you.”
“Mm.”
Zhou Yihong, who witnessed everything, rolled his eyes.
So good at pretending to be drunk. Only drank two sips and can’t stand? Zhou Yihong knew his alcohol tolerance too well. Whoever might be drunk, he wouldn’t be.
So scheming.
No wonder he could get a girlfriend so quickly.
Zhou Yihong mourned for Qin Sang for three minutes. Looks like the little freshman would be fooled dizzy by him in the future, played around in the palm of his hand.
Qin Sang called a car and sent Xie Yuncheng back to the apartment. On the way back, she was always worried he would feel uncomfortable. Seeing him leaning without speaking, only playing with her hand, she couldn’t help complaining softly, “Why did you drink so much? The vice president was competing with you. If you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to play.”
“That’s different,” he said.
“How is it different?”
“Sang-sang,” he said, “the price he wants to win is you.”
“How could I be willing to hand you over?”
…
Warmth and breath tangled; the night drifted, soft and heavy, into a haze.
When the lights went out, what remained was only a quiet heartbeat, a tight embrace, and the promise of “mine,” spoken without the need to say it.
…
She seemed to have had a long, unreal dream.
Spring went, autumn came; cold came and heat went.
The seasons turned, alternating again and again.
They spent seven years together—from the first meeting at fifteen, to sinking into sweet love at eighteen, until the turning point of life at twenty-one, when summer arrived.
On graduation day, she wore an academic gown. Under the witness of family and friends, she accepted his proposal.
His gentle brows and eyes seemed to be dipped in pale gold.
“Sang-sang, maybe you won’t believe it, but I feel like I knew you very early on. Maybe in another time and space, maybe in a distant future.”
“But I’m certain: no matter how far across mountains and rivers, no matter how crowded the sea of people, the only person I want to see is you.”
In countless parallel spaces that shift and overlap, in endless crisscrossing time lines—
He came from the stars, sailing alone through the boundless universe, yet the destination his course ultimately pointed to was always only her.
To him, only a world where she existed had meaning.
“You are my eternal, unchanging coordinate. No matter how long it takes, I will come to your side.”