Chapter 6: Dreams and Memories

The winding mountain roads stretched endlessly ahead. Since the local railway hadn’t been opened yet, passengers had to transfer to long-distance buses. Somewhere along the journey, lulled by the steady motion, Sheng Han dozed off.

In her dreams, she returned to her childhood…

It was once again time for the annual group exercise rehearsals. Every year at the opening ceremony of the school’s sports day, each grade level would perform a group routine—a centerpiece of the event and a long-standing tradition at Qiongmo Elementary.

Every afternoon after class, the children would gather for two extra hours of practice. It was their favorite time of year—not only could they play and mingle with classmates from other classes, but since the teachers understood how exhausting the schedule was, they typically didn’t assign extra homework during this period, aside from regular reviews and preview exercises. It meant more free time at home, and for the children, it was perfect.

On the field, they twirled colorful ribbon rings—a standard prop for these routines. Each ring had been lovingly handmade by the students and their parents, following school instructions. Because of the effort and care put into making them, the kids treated their ribbon rings like treasured possessions.

Group choreography required many formation changes, and the precision of those changes was no small feat. Maintaining symmetry and coordination was always the most difficult part of practice.

The teacher leading the rehearsal instructed the kids to alternate boy-girl, forming a series of circles, hand in hand. The children followed diligently.
In one group, a particular little boy stood out. He looked at the girl beside him and said very seriously:

“Boys and girls shouldn’t hold hands. Just grab my ribbon ring or my sleeve, that’s fine.”

His face was still round with youth, but his tone was completely sincere.

The girl blinked her wide eyes at him, then nodded and did as he said—obedient and sweet.

From that day forward, the two were always next to each other in the lineup.

“What’s your name?” the girl asked.

“Xiu Jie. ‘Xiu’ as in tall and straight, and ‘Jie’ as in outstanding,” he replied, carefully. “My mom gave me that name because she wants me to grow up tall and become someone excellent—so I can protect her.”

“And you?” he asked.

“Sheng Han,” the girl answered with a smile.

The setting sun bathed her face in warm light. That smile—gentle, sweet, radiant—was something he would never forget.

—

Sheng Han slowly opened her sleepy eyes, still caught in the haze of her dream. A faint smile curled her lips.

“That silly Xiu Jie. He still doesn’t know that our fate was sealed way back in elementary school.”

Outside the window, the rain was coming down harder now. The already treacherous mountain road had become even slicker under the storm. The sky had gone completely dark. Inside the bus, tension filled the air; the passengers sat in silence, nervous and uneasy.

Sheng Han stared out the window and drifted into another memory…

—

It was a class break.

Some students crowded around the teacher’s desk, trying to understand concepts they hadn’t grasped during the lesson.
Some played rowdily in the open space at the back of the classroom.
Some scribbled furiously, making up for homework left unfinished the night before.
Others lay on their desks, quietly resting, recharging for the next class.

At the edge of the room stood a tall boy, pacing nervously beside his seat.

He seemed to want to do something—but hesitated.

It was Xiu Jie.
He held a carefully folded piece of paper in his hand. It looked like… a letter.

Finally, he took a deep breath, summoned all his courage, and strode over to Sheng Han’s desk.

“Here,” he said, placing the letter on her desk without another word.

Then he turned around and walked away, not looking back once.

Sheng Han froze, startled by what had just happened. But a moment later, realization dawned.

She picked up the letter and quietly walked out of the classroom…

That group exercise back in elementary school had left a deep impression on Sheng Han. At the time, she had thought that after the performance, she and Xiu Jie would become close friends. But what she didn’t know was that, later that autumn, Xiu Jie transferred to another school in a different city due to family reasons. It wasn’t until high school that he returned to Qiongmo.

Childhood companions had now grown up. Sheng Han recognized Xiu Jie immediately on the first day of high school during class introductions. The moment she heard his name, she knew it was him. But Xiu Jie… it seemed he had long forgotten her.

Then again, that was understandable. So many years had passed, and their “friendship” had only lasted through a handful of group exercise rehearsals. It was just a brief childhood memory, easy to forget.

Fate, however, works in mysterious ways. No matter how far two people are apart, some invisible thread seems to connect them. Even separated by mountains and rivers, they are destined to meet again.
And so, peaceful days passed, one after another—until the day that letter arrived, quietly stirring the still waters of their high school lives.

Sheng Han carefully unfolded the note. Maybe it was nerves, but her heart was pounding so loud she could hear it, and her hands trembled slightly. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. Then, slowly, she opened the letter.

It was Xiu Jie’s neat handwriting:

Sheng Han,
I don’t know why, but ever since our class introductions, I’ve felt an odd sense of familiarity with you—like we’ve met before.

Last time it snowed, when the class was assigned to clear the paths, I saw you standing there, shivering because you’d forgotten your gloves. I couldn’t bear it—it was the first time I ever wanted to protect a girl. That’s when I really noticed you.

Since then, every day, I see your diligence, your kindness, and your quiet strength. You’ve stayed in my mind and won’t leave.

From now on… will you let me be the one to protect you?

Don’t worry—I won’t let this affect our studies. We can support each other, push each other, and improve together.

Do you trust me?
—Xiu Jie

As she read, a smile bloomed across Sheng Han’s face, and a strange warmth filled her chest. Her cheeks flushed pink with an emotion she couldn’t quite name. After calming down, she carefully folded the letter and returned to the classroom.

That entire class period, she couldn’t concentrate. Luckily, it was an English class focused on movie appreciation, so she wasn’t missing anything too critical.

Xiu Jie kept glancing at her, unable to hide his restlessness. Every time their eyes met, Sheng Han quickly lowered her head, shy and flustered, avoiding his gaze.

Finally, the bell rang. Xiu Jie rushed to her desk, excitement bubbling in his voice.

“So… what’s the answer?”

Sheng Han stammered, “Midterms are coming up in a couple of days. I’ll tell you… after the exams.”

“Oh…”
Xiu Jie was visibly disappointed, but he nodded. He didn’t want to pressure her. In the following days, he behaved like the most understanding and well-mannered boy, not bothering her once.

—

During the final exam, Sheng Han finished early, but she didn’t hand in her paper right away. Her palms were slick with nervous sweat. She knew Xiu Jie was waiting outside, and today—she had to give him an answer.

But her heart was in turmoil.

She had always had a soft spot for Xiu Jie. Yet early relationships were frowned upon by both teachers and parents. Would it affect their studies? Sheng Han, the ever-dutiful student, was worried. On the other hand, if she rejected him… Would things become awkward? Would he stop talking to her altogether? She didn’t want that either.

Her tangled thoughts made the classroom feel stuffy and hard to breathe.

Students began handing in their papers and leaving. The room grew more and more empty.

Finally, the dismissal bell rang.

Sheng Han submitted her test, packed up her things, and slowly walked out.

Outside, Xiu Jie leaned against the window ledge, patiently waiting.
Maybe it was the golden rays of the setting sun streaming in through the windows that made everything feel surreal. Or maybe it was the emptiness of the classroom that made Sheng Han feel exposed and uncertain.

But the moment she saw him, her heart suddenly settled.

Looking at Xiu Jie, it was like a warm current filled her chest—something reassuring and safe.

“So?” he asked, trying to sound light-hearted, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. “Do I get an answer now?”

“Mm.”
Sheng Han gave a small nod, her head lowered.

“What did you say?” he asked, unsure if he heard right, hope flickering in his eyes.

“Mm.”
This time, her voice was louder, more certain.

Then, cheeks burning bright red, Sheng Han turned and walked away quickly.

Realizing what had just happened, Xiu Jie lit up with joy and ran after her.

“Let me walk you home!”

Later, after Sheng Han had gone upstairs, Xiu Jie rode his bicycle in circles downstairs, ringing the bell cheerfully, grinning ear to ear, reluctant to leave.

Just like that, first love quietly arrived.

So pure. So gentle.
That night, even the air seemed sweet.