Lin Zhexia’s academic performance improved rapidly.

In the final exam of the first semester of senior year, she ranked first in her class.

And in Class 7, where almost everyone was at the bottom, her grade ranking entered the top 50.

Their Class 7 was a liberal arts class.

When they were selecting majors and splitting into classes in the second year, a strange phenomenon occurred—while students in other classes were frantically choosing their subjects, only Class 1 and Class 7 seemed to stand apart.

Those top students in Class 1 defaulted to science, while the “poor students” in Class 7 uniformly chose liberal arts.

At that time, Tang Shuxuan and Chen Lin had secretly discussed this: “That’s the difference, I guess. After all, if you choose liberal arts and still don’t understand the knowledge, you can at least memorize it… With science, if you don’t understand, there’s no way out. Even if you pinned me down on the test paper, I couldn’t figure it out even if you beat me to death.”

As for Class 1.

It seemed they all believed science offered better major options, and judging from their class average, they had a greater advantage in science.

She began to bury herself in studies for only one reason—she wanted to see him again.

If in university… if she could get into the same university as him.

But the gap in their scores was really difficult to bridge.

Lin Zhexia looked at this report card, which her homeroom teacher had praised extensively, and didn’t feel happy.

…

Compared to Chi Yao, this score was still too far behind.

She had checked several schools known for their physics programs, and none of them were within her reach at present.

Finally, she sighed, thinking to herself that she needed to work harder—

After Chi Yao left, Lin Zhexia was worried about his family situation.

Even knowing he wouldn’t accept money, she couldn’t help herself.

She put all her New Year’s money into her mobile banking app, saving up more than two thousand yuan as a “huge sum,” and specially used an unfamiliar phone number to transfer it to Chi Yao.

But the next day, Chi Yao transferred the money back.

Lin Zhexia silently transferred it over again.

Chi Yao finally responded through the transfer note: [Wrong person.]

Lin Zhexia: [I didn’t transfer to the wrong person. To be honest, I’m a wealthy person. I just have too much money and like to randomly select a few lucky people on the internet every day to send them money.]

In less than ten minutes.

Her WeChat pinged.

It was a message from Chi Yao, saying nothing but three words.

Chi: Lin Zhexia.

Lin Zhexia: …

Lin Zhexia knew he had figured it out.

It was expected, but she also felt puzzled—

How did you know it was me

Chi Yao replied with four words: Do I need to guess

Lin Zhexia was afraid he would be unhappy, so she typed, trying to make up for it: I’m sorry—

I just had a dream of being wealthy—

I’ve wanted to say such arrogant things to people online for a long time.

…—

About half a year later, she began to get used to life without Chi Yao.

When she saw places online she wanted to visit, or when the school shop launched new meal packages, she no longer immediately thought: I want to go with Chi Yao.

Only occasionally, very occasionally, would she recall some small details that belonged only to him.

“The school shop has started selling popcorn!” Tang Shuxuan came excitedly to inform them, “Ten yuan a bucket, you can buy it during PE class.”

Lin Zhexia’s first thought was that Chi Yao didn’t like popcorn.

But Chi Yao had eaten from the bucket she held at the movie theater.

In her senior year, Lin Zhexia was still buried in her studies.

After Chi Yao was no longer by her side, she unconsciously began to attract male attention.

She started to have “pursuers.”

One of them was a boy who had been sitting behind her since their first year.

That boy had asked for her contact information, but like other classmates, after adding her, they hardly talked, only sending holiday greetings during festivals.

Once during class break, she found a box of cookies on her desk.

A message was quietly waiting on her phone: I saw you eating very little at lunch… so I bought this for you.

Lin Zhexia was stunned for a moment and replied: Thank you, but I can’t accept your things. How much were the cookies? Let me transfer the money to you.

But that boy was surprisingly persistent.

Even after her repeated refusals, he couldn’t help saying: “Lin Zhexia, I’ve liked you for a long time.”

Lin Zhexia was a bit dazed: “Huh?”

The boy behind her: “Actually, from the first year… when we just entered school, I started noticing you.”

“I think you’re very cute,” the boy said to her cautiously, “It’s just that before, there were too many people around you, and I was too shy to talk to you.”

Lin Zhexia hadn’t expected to receive a confession.

She felt awkward but still replied seriously: “Thank you, but I’ve made a promise to someone that I’ll focus on studying in my senior year. I hope you can focus on your studies too.”

After school, she told He Yang about being confessed to, omitting the key information.

He Yang’s expression was a bit complicated.

Lin Zhexia: “Why are you reacting like this? Is it strange that someone confessed to me?”

He Yang said, “Not strange, not strange at all.”

Lin Zhexia: “Da Zhuang, you’re acting a bit weird.”

He Yang couldn’t possibly say that he was thinking of another person who liked his Brother Xia, someone far away: “I’m perfectly normal.”

He Yang kept this secret to himself, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

After a while, he couldn’t help saying: “Didn’t you ask me before what type of girls Chi Yao likes?”

Lin Zhexia was abruptly reminded of the “black history” caused by her hand slipping: “…What about it?”

—Have you never thought that the one Chi Yao likes might be you?

But Chi Yao had hidden this so deeply that he didn’t have the right to speak it out for him.

In the end, He Yang’s reason returned, and he swallowed the words that had surged to his lips: “Nothing, I just happened to think of it.”—

Days passed one by one like this.

Only, every time she raised her head from the endless test papers, she would often be startled to realize that the distance between her and Chi Yao seemed to have grown even greater than before.

She slid open her phone.

Looking through the chat history with “Chi,” she found that the topics between them had become fewer and fewer—

Just saw—

I just finished my homework—

I just got home—

I’m working on test papers—

Today I have five sets of math problems, I probably won’t be able to finish them all.

…

These words repeated meaninglessly.

And Chi Yao’s messages were also: At the hospital—

Just finished surgery—

Just left school—

This week, my phone was confiscated by the teacher

…

What they talked about more was studying.

Chi Yao would regularly summarize key points for her, taking photos and sending them to her.

Lin Zhexia had originally thought that although Jing City was a bit far, they could still meet.

She knew Chi Yao couldn’t leave the hospital, and she had planned to go to Jing City to see him during the winter vacation, but life always has various unexpected events.

Cheng’an No. 2 High School’s senior year winter vacation was only five days.

And these five days…

“Xiaxia, this year we’re going to spend the New Year at Uncle Wei’s hometown,” before the vacation, Lin He told her, “The round trip will take two days, and staying there for three days is just right.”

Lin Zhexia’s plan fell through, and she dejectedly said “Oh.”

Wei Ping’s hometown was in the countryside, and this was her first visit.

Grandpa Wei and Grandma Wei were very nice, telling her not to be nervous about the college entrance exam and giving her a big red envelope.

There were many children here, and as soon as Lin Zhexia arrived, she was surrounded by a group of kids.

On New Year’s Eve, amid the noise of children playing and firecrackers, she received a video call from Chi Yao.

In the video, Chi Yao seemed to still be at the hospital, judging from the background. During the New Year, the hospital corridor was empty, with occasional doctors in white coats patrolling past. He wore a gray hoodie, his features holding up well on camera, his brows and eyes still the familiar way, perhaps because the corridor lights were too dim, making his gaze appear very deep when he looked at the camera.

After answering, Lin Zhexia said, “Why did you suddenly decide to video call me?”

“To see you.”

Lin Zhexia’s heart skipped a beat at these three words.

Chi Yao’s voice paused, and he completed his sentence: “…To see how you’ve been doing lately.”

Lin Zhexia thought to herself that so his sentence wasn’t finished earlier: “Oh, I’ve been doing quite well lately.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“At Uncle Wei’s hometown,” having not seen this face for too long, Lin Zhexia felt somewhat afraid to make eye contact with him, her gaze moving downward, “It’s my first time here, but they’re treating me very well.”

Lin Zhexia also said, “Are you at the hospital? Why are you still at the hospital during the New Year?”

Chi Yao: “My mom’s health condition isn’t very good. After her surgery and recovery, she was discharged but then developed some other symptoms.”

It had been too long since they had seen each other.

Even through the network, there was a strange sense of restraint.

Lin Zhexia: “How’s your… family situation going?”

Chi Yao: “Still being handled. If the issues with the new production line can’t be resolved, the factory and the land we originally bought still have some value, which should be enough to cover it.”

But this “covering” came at the cost of years of hard work gone to waste.

After the small talk, the two fell into a brief silence.

Lin Zhexia discovered that the feeling of suddenly realizing the other person was further away than the last time came rushing back in an instant.

…

So it turned out that even two people who were once so familiar, after leaving the same environment and social circle, could also find themselves with nothing to say.

“Chi Yao.”

Finally, holding up her phone, she pointed it at the fireworks in the night sky and said, “Happy New Year.”

The fireworks soared, blooming in the night—

“Happy New Year.”

In Jing First People’s Hospital.

The young man spoke softly to his phone.

On the phone screen, the fireworks were brilliant. The camera shook a bit, probably because some children ran past her, making noise, calling her “Big Sister.”

After a while, the girl in the video hurriedly said, “My mom’s calling me, I have to go,” and the video call ended.

Chi Yao sat on the bench for a few minutes. He put his phone in his pocket, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast, lost in thought.

Then, from the hospital room behind him came Bai Qin’s voice: “—Chi Yao.”

Chi Yao responded and pushed open the door.

Due to her illness, and with Chi Yao constantly by her side taking care of her, Bai Qin, who had never yielded to anyone, began to rely on her son. This was a rare moment of softness in her life: “What were you doing outside?”

Chi Yao said, “Made a phone call.”

After saying that, he walked to the bedside, helped Bai Qin sit up, and asked: “Do you want to eat an apple?”

Chi Yao had gotten used to taking care of her and quickly peeled the apple and handed it over. As Bai Qin took the apple and was about to reflect, she caught a glimpse of Chi Yao’s phone lighting up beside her bed.

His phone’s lock screen was a photo.

Bai Qin looked carefully and saw a patch of blue-purple hydrangeas and the profile of a girl crouching by the flowers.

She felt it looked familiar.

After thinking for a long time, she finally recalled where her impression of this girl came from.

The impression came from many years ago, the little girl who suddenly ran out to block their way and questioned why they didn’t accompany Chi Yao when she and Hanshan went back to get something.

The two faces were very similar, except that the little girl in her memory was still very young, with baby fat on her face.

But the girl in the photo had delicate features, had grown much taller than when she was little, with the characteristic slenderness of adolescence.

Bai Qin took a bite of the apple and asked: “Do you… Still keep in touch with your friends from before?”

Chi Yao said, “Yes.”

Outside the hospital, fireworks were also being set off.

The two of them rarely spent New Year together, and yet it was under these circumstances.

Bai Qin couldn’t help feeling emotional. She suddenly said, “Mom wasn’t a qualified mother before. I missed a lot during your growing-up process.”

Chi Yao was cleaning up the fruit peel when he heard this, and his hand paused.

“Before, I was like a person carrying a heavy shell forced to move forward. Along the way, I thought this ‘shell’ was very important, career was important, money was important, social status was important, the title of ‘Boss Bai’ in others’ eyes was important.”

“I don’t know when it started, but the word ‘Mom’ in my life became less important.”

For so many years, she had always missed the most important thing.

Bai Qin sat on the hospital bed, thinking that what the little girl had said back then was right.

But at that time, she and Chi Hanshan were in a hurry to return to Jing City and only thought the child was too young to understand.

“During this time, you’ve been taking care of me,” Bai Qin looked at Chi Yao, “You’re in your senior year, yet running between school and the hospital. I never thought that now I would be relying on you, that in places I couldn’t see… You independently grew into such an outstanding, remarkable ‘adult.'”

Contrary to her expectations.

Chi Yao, having cleaned up the fruit knife, looked at her and said word by word: “I’m not.”

Bai Qin was stunned.

He continued: “I didn’t grow up alone.”—

On a certain day, after Lin Zhexia had thought the distance between her and Chi Yao was getting further and further, she suddenly had a new feeling.

An important mock exam before the college entrance examination.

She performed exceptionally well, even doing well in math, which she usually lost points in, and her grade ranking entered the top twenty.

This result was almost at the level of Class 1’s top students.

Both Old Liu and Old Xu were ecstatic. Old Liu especially called her into his office and repeatedly praised her as a “dark horse.”

“Little Lin, I never expected,” Old Liu patted her shoulder and handed her a poor-quality certificate he had personally printed, “Never expected you would have such talent in academics.”

“As a student assigned to Class 7 based on entrance scores, through your constant efforts, you’ve single-handedly challenged Class 1.”

“The school needs people like you, needs outstanding representatives like you.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia looked down at the poor-quality certificate, where Director Liu had written in large characters: Academic Genius Lin Zhexia!

She took a deep breath: “Thank you, Director Liu.”

Old Liu waved his hand: “Don’t mention it. If you want to thank me, how about giving a speech at next Monday’s flag-raising ceremony? Share some of your learning experiences and motivate everyone before the exam.”

“…?”

Lin Zhexia couldn’t help saying: “Director Liu, you’re quite the businessman.”

Old Liu made the final decision: “Then it’s settled.”

“…”

Giving a speech about her learning experience at the flag-raising ceremony.

This was something she could never have imagined when she first entered school.

With her personality, she was the type to stand in the audience, applauding others.

Lin Zhexia left the office with the certificate, sighed, and although not resistant, she still felt a bit nervous at the thought.

She returned home, finished two sets of problems, and then started writing about her learning experience.

Her study methods were quite clumsy.

There were no special tricks, and after writing, she also felt this speech would be boring when read aloud.

The day before going on stage, she happened to be organizing her bookshelf.

The moment she opened the cabinet door, she saw the little rabbit placed on the bookshelf.

Because it had been well protected and usually stored in the cabinet, the rabbit keychain still looked new.

She picked it up, and for a moment, it was as if she were back when she and Chi Yao were crouching in front of the claw machine. She could almost see the young man hooking the keyring and presenting it to her.

And that day, the words he had once said to her.

“Coward.”

“You probably won’t be too unlucky tomorrow.”

Before this day, Lin Zhexia felt that the distance between her and Chi Yao had become increasingly distant, almost beyond grasp.

But also on this day, she suddenly realized that during that long period of silent companionship in the past, they had unknowingly seeped into each other’s bones. It was because of his existence that certain parts of her had formed into who she was now.

This was the true distance between her and Chi Yao.

Even though he had been away from her side for a very, very long time.