Sunlight gently bathed her. Bei Yao’s long lashes cast shadows on her eyelids.

Bei Yao shook her head: “I don’t want this.”

Pei Chuan said: “This is a seventeenth birthday gift.”

She said: “Not everyone who’s barely acquainted needs to give gifts. Pei Chuan, who am I to you?”

Her almond eyes flashed with stubborn light. She absolutely wouldn’t forget about that night—which girl sleeps and forgets her first kiss?

Bei Yao wouldn’t agree to his conditions, but she wanted him to face her feelings squarely.

Not adolescent curiosity, not casual words, and not momentary impulse.

So, if you insist I accept this gift, Pei Chuan, who am I to you?

Pei Chuan looked at her silently: “Yaoyao, don’t be unreasonable.”

The little person in her heart who’d been eagerly holding up her head burst into tears, but Bei Yao didn’t cry. She glared at him, held back her tears, and returned the Olympic tickets to him. If he didn’t understand her feelings, she didn’t want his gift either.

Pei Chuan’s original gift, the air plant, was still being neglected by her.

With school out for vacation, the campus was very quiet. You could still hear summer cicadas in the schoolyard.

The scent of scholarly atmosphere was strong in Sixth Middle’s summer. The evergreen camphor trees gave off a light, fresh woody fragrance.

She walked several steps, then ran back holding back tears.

He held those tickets in his hand, watching her run up to him.

“Pei Chuan.” Those clear eyes reflected his image. She gritted her teeth and gathered courage to ask, “Do you like me?”

He lowered his gaze to look at her.

The cicadas called incessantly. July was warm and dry. Yaoyao, I love you.

Unlike her innocent, budding first feelings, love wasn’t the same as liking. It was cautious probing, expecting pain, wanting to cherish carefully. Liking could change with time and experience; love wouldn’t.

But similarly, liking wouldn’t become a person’s shackle—love would.

Seeing him not answer, Bei Yao pressed her lips together. This time she left without looking back.

The summer vacation of sophomore year wasn’t long. Compared to the previously lengthy and boring holidays, this one could be called very pressing. Even Zhao Zhilan said: “The college entrance exam is getting more intense, right? Yaoyao, what do you want for lunch? Mom will buy you something good to nourish your brain.”

Bei Yao said: “Anything is fine, thank you Mom.”

She pulled open the curtains. Downstairs, Chen Yingqi was running. July’s sun was scorching, beating down on him, sweat soaking his clothes.

He’d been running for an hour.

Around the entire residential complex, lap after lap. Other neighborhood boys called out: “Chen Hu, aren’t you hot? Come have a popsicle.”

That year’s split popsicles—snap them in two and you had two pieces.

Chen Yingqi’s gaze fell on the popsicles, practically glued to them. He swallowed, walked two steps toward the boys, then suddenly gritted his teeth, turned around, and started running again.

From far away you could still hear his muffled voice: “I told you not to call me Chen Hu, call me Chen Yingqi.”

Zhao Zhilan came over and also frowned: “What’s wrong with this child? Running like this in this heat—isn’t he afraid of heatstroke? Xiao Jun, come give that older brother some water.”

Bei Jun received his mission. With the joy and sense of responsibility of a child entrusted with an important task, he pattered off to deliver water to Chen Yingqi.

Before long, Chen Yingqi finished another lap and ran back. Exhausted like an old ox near death, he plopped down on the ground, panting.

Bei Yao also went downstairs to deliver water with her brother.

Chen Yingqi hesitated, then remembered water was drinkable. He accepted it and took two very controlled sips.

The summer ground was also scorching—sitting down would make you jump up from the heat. But Chen Yingqi was clearly exhausted. Sweat prevented him from opening his eyes. His whole person looked like he’d come back from the rain.

Bei Yao said: “Are you losing weight?”

Chen Yingqi’s mouth stretched wide, revealing white teeth: “Yeah! I’ve kept it up for a month and lost two pounds. In a year, I can lose twenty-four pounds. In three or four years, I’ll be tall and handsome again.”

Bei Yao laughed.

Chen Yingqi said: “Don’t laugh. You don’t believe me, do you?”

Bei Yao said: “I believe you, but this way you could easily get heatstroke.”

“Hey! I won’t. I’m healthy—I’ve been fine all along. Just got a bit darker from the sun.”

Besides, running in the hottest times produced the most sweat. Otherwise, with his constitution that gained weight even from drinking water, it would be hard to lose weight successfully.

After Bei Yao went home, Zhao Zhilan mentioned Chen Yingqi with a sigh: “That child seems carefree, but surprisingly he has quite the determination.”

He really did have determination. Who else would work themselves to death for a month to lose two pounds and still be this happy?

Later, Chen Yingqi running in the residential complex became a unique sight. Neighbors passing by would always ask: “Chen Hu is out running again?”

Chen Yingqi would reply stiffly and loudly: “Yes, Auntie Zhang!”

Zhao Zhilan often felt that raising children was like the blink of an eye. It seemed slow, but in another blink, the children had all grown up. The mischievous or lively ones from childhood each developed their own appearance and personality when they grew up.

Including her Yaoyao and Zhao Xiu’s Minmin—they’d both turn seventeen this month.

In August, Zhao Zhilan still went to work.

At noon on the first, she came back practically floating.

She sat on the sofa in a daze for a long time.

Bei Licai said: “What’s wrong with you?”

Zhao Zhilan said: “Honey, quick, pinch me and see if I’m dreaming.”

Bei Licai didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: “What happened exactly?”

Zhao Zhilan fished out four Olympic tickets from her pocket: “I was just coming back, originally planning to go to the supermarket to buy groceries, when I saw a free lottery at the entrance. I thought, well, it’s free—drawing a towel or a bar of soap would be nice too. After I drew a seven of clubs, that person said I’d won four Olympic tickets.”

She really did pull out four tickets.

Bei Licai was also startled. Olympic tickets were priceless on the market. How could they be drawn so easily?

“You didn’t run into a scammer, did you? How much money did he take from you?”

Zhao Zhilan was also confused: “He didn’t take my money.”

That made it even more frightening—what if it was a dream?

Bei Licai said: “Let me see.”

The couple checked online and asked around in various ways. The result proved the tickets were all real.

Zhao Zhilan said: “It can’t be this coincidental, right? Four tickets won all at once. This is like a census check!” Bei Yao finished studying and came out of her room to see those four tickets had ended up in her mother’s hands.

Yet thinking it over and over, she couldn’t figure out what the problem was.

Zhao Zhilan said: “No way, I’m going to sell them!”

Bei Yao: “…”

This scene was so familiar. That weird summer camp! She gritted her teeth, wanting to beat up that jerk. Did he think their whole family was especially stupid?

Yet no one could stop Zhao Zhilan. She turned around ready to sell these Olympic tickets.

Bei Yao didn’t dare expose Pei Chuan, so she could only anxiously follow developments.

Result: they didn’t sell.

The reason was simple—everyone thought this was a scam. Even scalpers wouldn’t dare do this. Who would sell four Olympic tickets at once and not even price them high!

Zhao Zhilan couldn’t sell them. Fang Minjun’s birthday arrived, and Zhao Xiu’s family took her traveling.

This time, even Zhao Zhilan looking at herself felt she looked like a scammer.

Yet the value of these four tickets had already exceeded the family’s entire worth. Not going would be unbearable.

Zhao Zhilan gritted her teeth—Yaoyao’s birthday was coming. Taking her to see the Olympics would be great!

No matter how Bei Yao resisted, in the end the whole family was forcibly dragged by Mama Zhao onto the train to Beijing. Can’t waste it, can’t waste it!

Bei Jun heard they were going to see some “games” and was extremely excited, twisting and turning in Zhao Zhilan’s arms, unable to stay still for a moment.

The train chugged along for a day and night. The family set foot on the imperial capital’s soil.

This year the imperial capital was prosperous. Because of the Olympics, blonde, blue-eyed foreigners could often be seen on the streets.

Bei Yao had been sulking the whole journey, but after all, she was a seventeen-year-old girl. Seeing the novel world, her big eyes couldn’t help but be curious.

On the day of the Olympics, their tickets indeed got them into the venue.

On the field, athletic champions shed their sweat. The nation’s pride and hard work made the flag rise and the national anthem play again and again.

The people cheered for their country. Bei Yao watched to the end and saw a brand new, shocking world.

Even the usually rambunctious little Bei Jun nestled obediently and tensely in his mother’s arms.

Bei Jun’s clear eyes widened, watching different races work hard for their countries, the competitive spirit continuously passing on.

“Dad, when I grow up I want to be an athlete too and run the fastest!”

Bei Licai laughed heartily.

The world was truly so big, so big. Dreams were like seeds, slowly spreading.

That night Bei Yao couldn’t sleep. She pushed open the hotel window and looked at the imperial capital’s moon. The family doted on their daughter—in this place where every inch was worth gold, they’d opened a separate room just for Bei Yao. Little Bei Jun was squeezed together with Mom and Dad.

The big city’s “Bird’s Nest” was beautiful. The street lights were dazzling and gorgeous.

Lively, prosperous, with different aspects of human life.

Bei Yao looked at the bright moon in the sky. This wasn’t her hometown’s moon.

She put on a jacket and went downstairs. The night breeze was slightly cool. Bei Yao stood on the bridge, chin resting on her arms, watching the moonlight shattered by ripples in the water.

Someone played the erhu on the street corner, the melody lingering and distant.

She took out her phone to call. The other end answered quickly.

She listened to the erhu: “Pei Chuan, I’m in the imperial capital.”

“Mm, is it fun?”

She said: “The imperial capital has beautiful neon lights we haven’t seen in City C, a magnificent Bird’s Nest, the liveliest night market, bright water and moonlight. And many people living at a fast pace.”

He was silent, inevitably somewhat sad.

“But Pei Chuan.” She said, “They’re so beautiful, so why, standing on this bridge, do I only miss you?”

Miss your cool gaze, eyes like the night.

Her tone carried slight choking: “Even if you don’t like me, I still miss you so much, like missing home.” Like missing her hometown’s gentle moon, soft streetlights, nature’s wind, and summer’s continuous rain.

Pei Chuan’s phone suddenly fell to the ground.

He stood at the end of the beautiful neon lights, lively night market, and bright moonlight she described, looking at her delicate, slender back, and said in a low voice: “Yaoyao.”

Bei Yao turned around.

Her long lashes trembled lightly like two butterflies flapping their wings, looking at the youth at the end of the bridge.

The next moment, the city’s meteor shower of neon lights fell. She ran from the bridge toward him, nestling into his embrace like a little swallow returning to its nest.

He reached out and hugged her tightly, his hands trembling slightly.

Several months of anger and grievance poured out in an instant. Her fingers clutched his shirt as she wailed: “You just wanted to abandon me, just like that time in first year. You always want to throw me away.”

His chin pressed against the top of her head, his voice also trembling: “No, never. How could I bear to?”

“Then why did you propose such excessive conditions?”

He held her: “Mm, so excessive.”

She sniffled: “I won’t agree, not now either.”

“Alright, don’t agree.”

Her head rested against his chest. Thinking of her question that day when he didn’t answer, Bei Yao tearfully bit down on a button on his shirt, as if to bite him to vent her anger: “You even said you didn’t like me.”

His heart seemed to be gently bitten and shattered by her coquettish gesture. He let her do as she pleased.

The heart beneath her ear beat and trembled. The youth’s voice was low and hoarse, sounding in her ear.

“I like you, very much.”

Heaven knows how much—couldn’t possibly like you more.