After high school graduation, everyone went their separate ways.
Military training began right after the summer vacation.
Wen Qianshu had always been in poor health and was exempt from military training. Since she started directly in the first year of high school here, this was her first time. She was so exhausted she felt half-dead. Lying on her dorm bed, she looked at her two-toned tanned arms while complaining to Jiang Mingyue on the phone, “My aunt even thought I was a computer technician.”
“Mm, what are you laughing at? I heard you laugh.”
Her new roommates were all very nice people, and her university life was very happy.
Wen Qianshu had studied this major in her past life, so she had the foundation and the brains for it. When she was happy, she attended classes; when she had free time, she earned money—scholarships, competitions, building websites, doing translations. At the very least, she could even teach fourth-year students how to write their graduation theses…
Once she earned enough for tuition, she went on to learn musical instruments, photography, skateboarding… Most of these were fleeting interests, pursued for the novelty before she moved on to the next obsession.
Jiang Mingyue and Luo Qing, on the other hand, had a headache. They were truly a pair of suffering comrades, one studying medicine and the other law. You could say they chose their majors well, as every year was like retaking the college entrance exams. The scope of what they had to memorize was the sea of stars, and the exam syllabus was the entire galaxy. Even their professors’ words echoed each other.
“Why highlight key points? Do people choose to get sick based on key points?”
“Why define a scope? Do people commit crimes according to a scope?”
Luo Qing wailed on her social media, while Jiang Mingyue sent a photo to Wen Qianshu to complain. Wen Qianshu, fully expecting a selfie, delightedly opened it only to find an empty coffee can.
Wen Qianshu: “How tragic.”
“Should I buy you some more coffee and mail it over?”
Jiang Mingyue: “…”
She did indeed buy coffee. Wen Qianshu even packed several cans and mailed herself along with them. She bought a train ticket and, using her status as a girl, openly snuck into Jiang Mingyue’s dorm. At night, she would lie on the bed, watching Jiang Mingyue study. When she got tired of watching, she would lift her head and peck her on the lips.
Jiang Mingyue would glance down at her, then continue studying. Wen Qianshu would then lift her head and peck her again. This continued until the other girl put an arm around her shoulder and said with a helpless tone, “I’m almost done.”
Under the cover of the bed curtains, they quietly kissed and embraced, squeezed shoulder to shoulder on the small bed. Wen Qianshu said she had recently learned watercolor and had painted a picture of the school. The next day, Jiang Mingyue made her oatmeal, took her to sneak into a class she couldn’t understand at all, and brought her to eat barbecue behind the school.
Later, after Wen Qianshu graduated, she found a job. Jiang Mingyue was still studying, but she moved out of the school dorms to live with Wen Qianshu.
Later still, they got a snow-white cat, and Wen Qianshu insisted on naming it “Moonlight.”
“Moonlight, Moonlight.” Wen Qianshu always went to tease the cat, not caring how many times she got scratched. “Moonlight, look at me.”
Jiang Mingyue, who was wearing glasses and reading, heard her and turned her head slightly to look at Wen Qianshu.
Sunlight streamed through the window, spilling over the plants on the sill, outlining her silver-framed glasses and hiding the deep smile in her eyes behind the lenses.
The cat meowed and ran off, perching on the top shelf of the bookcase, demurely licking its paws.
Wen Qianshu: “2333, give me a cheat code. I have to catch it today!”
But there was no reply.
Only then did Wen Qianshu remember that 2333 had left ever since Shen Ting graduated from university and found a job she liked.
It had asked for Wen Qianshu’s opinion, but Wen Qianshu was naturally happy to have some peace and wanted to stay here for a few more years. So, 2333 decided to wait until Wen Qianshu’s life in this world ended before coming to get her.
Wen Qianshu couldn’t find a helper—although this helper had never been able to give her this kind of cheat code anyway—so she could only comfort herself, “It’s okay. If you won’t come down, I still have another Moonlight.”
I still have another Moonlight.
Another Moonlight.
This Moonlight later became a doctor and put on a white coat. She gradually became busier and busier, with less and less time. But Wen Qianshu didn’t mind. After a few years, Wen Qianshu quit her job to become a freelancer, painting, writing, translating, going mountain climbing and diving, experiencing all sorts of new and exciting things.
She traveled everywhere, sending Jiang Mingyue postcards, paintings, and occasionally photos. One photo showed her face distorted by the wind while skydiving.
As a result, when Wen Qianshu returned home, she found that Jiang Mingyue had actually framed this photo and hung it by the head of the bed. The other Moonlight was perched on the bedside table, looking up at the picture.
When Moonlight saw Wen Qianshu, it didn’t forget to let out a “meow.”
Wen Qianshu unilaterally decided this was mockery.
Wen Qianshu went to flick its tail. “What are you gloating about?”
Moonlight, having been unjustly accused, kicked its hind legs and jumped away indignantly.
Jiang Mingyue was sitting in bed, reading under the covers. She took off her glasses and mediated, “Stop teasing it.”
Wen Qianshu: “Alright then.”
Wen Qianshu slipped under the covers and, feeling mischievous, touched Jiang Mingyue with her ice-cold hands. Jiang Mingyue flinched away, put her glasses and book aside, and leaned over to hug her.
Fingers brushed past the side of the pillow, like plucking a string, like igniting a fire.
Like the beat of a drum, the first sound rising, conquering cities and seizing lands.
They kissed, then panted; they entwined, then found bliss.
Mountains rose and fell, a wildfire swept the plains.
Rain beat against banana leaves, souls were turned upside down.
Fingers intertwined, long hair tangled, pressing closer step by step.
In this small space, in the dim light, they lost track of time, their hearts filled with greed for pleasure, for desire, for each other, for becoming one.
Watching the iceberg melt and the snow disperse, the forest swallows fly in pairs, watching the full moon hang high, intoxicated by the spring breeze.
The song ended, they washed up.
Her nose was filled with Jiang Mingyue’s scent, a hint of crisp citrus. The bed was still warm and very comfortable.
Wen Qianshu soon closed her eyes, about to fall asleep, but she felt Jiang Mingyue’s fingers stroking her long hair, one touch after another.
Wen Qianshu: “What’s wrong?”
Jiang Mingyue: “A patient came to the hospital earlier—”
Wen Qianshu: “What kind of patient?”
“It’s nothing, just a patient. I don’t know if they can be cured.” Jiang Mingyue didn’t continue the topic. She turned off the light and said, “Let’s sleep.”
Let’s sleep.
When Wen Qianshu woke up the next day, Jiang Mingyue had already left for work. She had made porridge for Wen Qianshu, cooked until it melted in her mouth, and kept it warm in the rice cooker. Wen Qianshu slowly finished her breakfast, threw on a coat, and went to the bookshelf to find a book. Outside the window, the sun was brilliant, the breeze was gentle, and the peace felt like a dream.
Moonlight padded over to her side, flicked its tail, and sat down gracefully.
Wen Qianshu: “Oh, willing to let me pet you now?”
Moonlight ignored her, simply turning its head to rub against Wen Qianshu.
Only then did Wen Qianshu realize that after sleeping with Jiang Mingyue all night, she had also picked up Jiang Mingyue’s scent.
Wen Qianshu: “You’re certainly close to her.”
With that, she stretched out her leg for Moonlight to lie on and continued reading.
In the afternoon, Shen Ting came looking for Wen Qianshu in a great hurry, afraid she would run off again, and dragged her out to help look at wedding dresses. In university, Shen Ting had met a classmate—gentle, amiable, and exceptionally talented. He had competed with Shen Ting for scholarships for four years. In the final year, he failed to win, and while Shen Ting was gloating, he confessed his feelings on the spot.
It was said that Shen Ting was dumbfounded at the time.
Shen Ting: “It’s not my fault. I thought he was going to fight me for the scholarship money.”
Wen Qianshu laughed. “Money-grubber.”
Shen Ting: “So what if I’m a money-grubber? Aren’t you one too? Sigh, this dress is beautiful.”
She stood up. “I want to try it on.”
Nearing thirty, Shen Ting was still slender, but her immaturity had faded, replaced by a greater elegance. The one who was only brave at home had finally ventured out of her nest. She no longer blushed at the drop of a hat and was now poised and conversed with ease.
Only in front of Wen Qianshu and Wen Xue was she still her usual childish self.
Grandma Shen’s health declined year by year, so Shen Ting had her move in. Every day, she would pester her for pastries. Grandma Shen was happy to make them, but while doing so, she would chide her, “You’re a grown woman now.”
A grown woman now—
How quickly time passes—
Everyone was changing, yet everyone was still the same.
Zhang Zisheng didn’t stick to her major and started her own business. It was said that the work at her company was hard, but the food was excellent—this was likely due to her resentment from eating cafeteria food for over a decade. Fang Wenyuan studied finance, making his family business prosperous and profitable, but he still listened to his parents’ arrangements and married a woman they set him up with. Luo Qing became a lawyer, and for every case she handled, she could recite a long list of names. Luo Qing was still troubled by this, complaining on her social media—“What kind of bad habit did I pick up in high school!”
Shen Ting carefully selected a few wedding dresses she liked, took pictures of each one, and said she wanted to show them to Wen Xue and her grandmother. Shen Ting said, “Wen Xue’s editor has been hounding her these past two days. She’s probably about to be driven mad.”
Wen Qianshu smiled and said goodbye to Shen Ting, declining her offer of a ride. She strolled down the street and suddenly remembered that the hospital where Jiang Mingyue worked was nearby. Jiang Mingyue had been at a stalemate with her family for a long time over her career choice—they had always wanted her to study finance and take over the family company.
Seeing her prolonged standoff with her family, Wen Qianshu had once asked her why she was so determined to be a doctor.
“Because when I was little, my grandpa took me out to play, and he suddenly collapsed,” Jiang Mingyue had said at the time. “I was so scared I just cried, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, a stranger rushed over, gave my grandpa first aid, and told me to call 120 and give the address. Thanks to him, my grandpa survived.”
“Later, after my grandpa woke up, we learned that this man had been one of his patients. Years ago, he had been sick, and my grandpa had performed surgery that saved his life. He said that now he was also a doctor and was fortunate to be able to repay the favor.”
“Don’t you think it’s such a coincidence—”
“Right then, I thought, I want to be a doctor.” Jiang Mingyue smiled. She rarely smiled, but when she did, it was truly beautiful. “What if, one day, I’m also fortunate enough to save someone very important?”
“Or, saving someone who is very important to someone else would be great too.”
Wen Qianshu recalled Jiang Mingyue’s expression from yesterday and, after some thought, headed toward the hospital. On the way, she stopped by a cake shop and bought some desserts and snacks for Jiang Mingyue. It was strange; Little Moonlight seemed so cold, yet she had a sweet tooth.
Wen Qianshu smiled and thought to herself, “She’s really like ice cream.”
Carrying the bag, Wen Qianshu ambled along, eventually reaching the hospital. Then, she sent a message to Jiang Mingyue, saying she wanted to have dinner with her and would wait for her downstairs. With the bag hanging from her arm, Wen Qianshu was looking down and typing when she was suddenly bumped into.
The person said, “Sorry—my apologies.”
Wen Qianshu smiled. “It’s fine. I was blocking the way.”
As she spoke, she looked up and froze.
She saw the man who had bumped into her. Just a glimpse of his profile was enough to strike her like a thunderbolt. The man had a furrowed brow, a tall build, and was unshaven. He was also carrying a bag, and through the plastic, she could see a lunchbox inside.
“Glad you’re okay.”
The man spoke hurriedly and then rushed away without even glancing at Wen Qianshu. But Wen Qianshu mechanically raised her head, her gaze following the man’s direction, and saw him walk toward a woman.
Two all-too-familiar faces.
Unseen for decades, it was as if living people had stepped out of old, yellowed photographs.
The pain from those memories suddenly became palpable again, like extreme love and extreme numbness churned together, mixed with ash to form a hand that squeezed her lungs.
It made it hard to breathe.
Wen Qianshu took two steps forward, staring blankly at them. She saw that the woman still had a frown and downcast eyes, an unhappy expression. She saw her open the lunchbox and glance inside, and heard her say with dissatisfaction, “Wen Zhengde, this is what you’re giving Qianshu to eat?”
Don’t you think it’s such a coincidence—
Such a coincidence—
Fate is like a cycle, trapping everyone within it.
Author’s Notes:
As is my old habit, all very obvious bugs are foreshadowing (of course, if I don’t end up filling them in, then they’re real bugs TAT)
