The obscure and dim self-doubt and anxiety of adolescence seemed to slowly fade away from Qianye’s world after the college entrance exam. She let go of her waist-length hair and walked slowly through the teaching building of G University in a dress. Her dormitory was a four-person room, and her roommates came from all over the country, yet they lived together harmoniously.

The one who left the deepest impression on Qianye was her lower bunkmate, Zhou Yuqin. Zhou was dark-skinned, slightly chubby, and quiet. Her luggage was pitifully small, and her cupboard was nearly empty. Even after coming to college, Zhou Yuqin continued to study diligently.

Qianye had always thought she was poor, but after meeting Zhou Yuqin, she realized how fortunate she truly was. She had loving foster parents, and a brother like Zhao Nanzhuo. Although Qianye insisted on tutoring to cover her living expenses, Zhou Ran and his wife still sent her money every month. On the other hand, Zhou Yuqin not only had to earn her own living expenses but also had to make money to support her younger brother’s education. Her father had been injured in an accident at work, and her mother, with a low level of education, worked at a supermarket. Their life was extremely poor. Qianye admired girls like Zhou Yuqin—strong, hardworking, and without a hint of the spoiled nature of city girls.

After arriving at G University, Qianye couldn’t stop thinking about Han Chao. That exceptional young man, whom she had followed from high school to this point, was someone she loved deeply but never dared to confess to. She had put in so much effort to get closer to him, to stay around him—yet it all boiled down to the fragile pride and self-esteem she had left. People say that fate can make two people destined to meet in the vast sea of people, or it can cause two people living in the same city to never cross paths in their whole lives.

Luckily, fate had allowed them to meet. At the beginning of the semester, every club started their recruitment events. The long years of high school had drained much of her energy, and she was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to find a quiet place to rest. Qianye walked up to the flute club’s booth, took a form, and was about to fill it out when she heard someone softly call her name. That face she had dreamed of, that long, silent crush, and all the expectations she had held when coming here—all of it suddenly became vivid in this moment. He smiled at her, “Are you interested in the flute?”

“I don’t know anything about it. I just thought there weren’t many people here, so I came by,” she said. To her surprise, Han Chao also took a form and began filling it out. For a moment, Qianye’s heart was touched. A guy like him—like a little white birch tree—didn’t join the student council or any big organizations. Instead, he joined a quiet club like her.

In September, with the bright sun of Beijing shining down, Qianye and Han Chao walked side by side on their way back to the dorm. “I’m going to the library now, do you want to come?” She finally mustered the courage to ask him, her voice trembling slightly. “Sure,” Han Chao readily agreed. Qianye’s heart fluttered again. It had been two years since they last sat together, and a lot had changed—time, space, people—but after the intense college entrance exams, she had shed the awkwardness of youth and gained a beautiful maturity. But none of that had diminished her love for him.

He sat beside her, and the air conditioning in the library was strong. Qianye began to feel unwell, and unexpectedly, her period arrived. She felt like she wanted to slam her head into the bookshelf. She tried her best to hide it, but in front of the person she liked most… it felt so embarrassing. But her pale face and furrowed brows couldn’t help but draw attention. Han Chao noticed she was feeling off and anxiously asked, “Qianye, are you okay? Do you want me to take you to the infirmary?”

“It’s not… It’s nothing, going to the infirmary won’t help…” Qianye said, clutching her abdomen. Han Chao looked at her, understanding instantly, but that only made him more helpless. “Then I’ll take you back to the dorm.” Qianye nodded. Han Chao took her books and supported her with his other hand. But Qianye had always been physically weak, and as she pushed through the pain, her limbs felt like jelly. When they got downstairs, she was in so much pain she couldn’t move.

Han Chao had always seen her as strong and capable. To him, she had always been someone who, despite not talking much, was clean and strong in spirit, a woman who drew attention wherever she went. But now, seeing her eyes glisten with tears in the hot summer light, he felt his heart break. He finally picked her up and carried her on his back, while students walking by couldn’t help but stare. He didn’t feel embarrassed, though.

A bus came halfway down the road, and Han Chao thought about getting on. But then he felt her soft yet firm voice behind him, saying, “Don’t.” It was like a hammer hitting his heart. He resolutely carried her forward. After greeting the dormitory staff, he brought her straight to the dorm, saying, “I’ll go now. Rest well.” He turned and left.

Although Qianye was in so much pain that she couldn’t even think straight, she still felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. Even though Han Chao’s actions were simply those of a good friend—a kind person helping another—it still soothed her soul. After a cup of brown sugar ginger tea from her roommates, Qianye gradually began to feel better. Her roommates, curious, asked her who the boy who had brought her back was.

“A high school classmate,” Qianye answered honestly. A high school classmate—a word that carried a certain ambiguous meaning.

In the following days, Qianye didn’t see Han Chao for a long time. The emptiness inside her felt like it might swallow her whole. She remembered her high school years, during the summer and winter vacations, when she couldn’t see him. She would often find herself walking to his building, passing by again and again, gazing up at the place where he lived, yet never encountering him coming down the stairs.

She would whisper to herself, “So, you’re here too.” This was the fluttering feeling of youth—during those intense, study-filled high school days when she was barely holding on, yet she still had the strength to love him so desperately, a love that felt like it could last a thousand years.