The winter along Syria’s coastal cities was nothing like China’s cold, dry season. Here, winter was mild and rainy, with warmth and rainfall arriving at different times of year.

Deep in the night, after a winter rain, the sky was clean and vast, holding only a slender crescent moon with its pale, hazy glow.

The temporary research institute built on the outskirts of Latakia was blazing with lights. From within it, laughter could be heard from a distance, and figures flickered past the windows.

After a short while, the gate to the courtyard was pulled open, and a tall, slender figure walked out and came to a stop before the outer gate.

On the wooden door behind him were pasted two red characters reading “good fortune.” One of them, loosened by the draft from the opening door, caught on the breeze at its corner and slowly peeled away at the bottom, the tip and tail folding to meet each other.

Mist had gathered in the air after the rain. Jiang Yan sat casually on the uneven stone steps and reached into his outer jacket pocket for a cigarette case and lighter.

A few practiced movements later, a small point of ember-red glowed between his fingers.

Smoke mingled with the fog and drifted away into the night.

He had been here four months now. From his initial struggle to adapt to the local environment, Jiang Yan had reached the point where he could stay in the research institute for twenty-four hours straight without sleep.

He tilted his head back and looked at the moon suspended in the night sky. His mood was unreadable. The cigarette in his hand burned slowly, and at last disintegrated into a small flake of ash that fell at his feet.

When Professor Ji Nan came out of the research institute and looked up, he saw that solitary, forlorn silhouette sitting at the courtyard gate. He shook his head with a smile and walked slowly over, settling down beside him. “What’s the matter — homesick?”

Seeing that it was Professor Ji Nan, Jiang Yan quickly stubbed out the cigarette in his hand. A small trace of ash smeared across the gap between his fingers — warm to the touch.

He looked downward, rubbing the smudged spot with his fingertips, and said quietly, “Doesn’t the professor miss home too?”

“Of course I do. Missing home is perfectly natural in what we do.” Professor Ji Nan said. “In the year I married your teacher’s wife, the country was preparing to conduct a two-bomb combined flight test. All of us technical personnel from that first cohort were sent to the front lines to provide technical support. For an entire year, none of us went home. Just like now — we had no contact of any kind with our families. Back then, even a single step of progress a country made in this area would be an enormous threat to other nations. So to outside eyes, we simply vanished without a trace. No news. Nothing we could share with anyone at home.”

“That year, I was just the same as you are now. Whenever I had a moment to myself, I thought desperately of home, of your teacher’s wife, of her cooking.” Professor Ji Nan smiled. “I missed everything. I could replay all the nagging things she’d say to me a hundred times over.”

Jiang Yan let his arms hang loose, his fingertip tracing idle patterns on the ground. A smile surfaced in his eyes, though his voice carried an undeniable wistfulness. “Before I came, I hadn’t imagined I would miss home this intensely.”

He thought about how sometimes, in the deep of night, alone in the laboratory, he would suddenly call out her name — and then, hearing nothing in return, come back to himself and laugh at his own foolishness.

“Miss away.” Professor Ji Nan patted his shoulder and stood up, then said in a voice heavy with feeling, “After all, this kind of life is only going to happen more, not less.”

Not long after Professor Ji Nan went back inside, Jiang Yan also rose to head back in. Before stepping through the door, he reached up and pressed the fallen red fortune character back into place.

The remaining two months passed far more quickly than the time before, and even when the day of their return to China finally arrived, Jiang Yan still felt somewhat dazed.

The flight from Damascus, Syria, to Jing’an City took roughly twenty-some hours. By the time the plane landed at Jing’an International Airport, it was already the middle of the night.

Late spring in Jing’an City still carried a slight chill.

Professor Ji Nan led the group to the arranged lodgings to check in. Although their technical support work in Latakia was finished, there were still some follow-up matters from the project that hadn’t been fully resolved. They were still not permitted to contact outside parties of their own accord, and even their phones remained in the custody of the project assistant.

After arriving and setting down their luggage, Jiang Yan went with the others to Professor Ji Nan’s room for a meeting that lasted until dawn.

When the meeting ended, Jiang Yan didn’t go with the others to the canteen for breakfast. He went straight back to his room, took a shower, and lay down to sleep.

A week later, all the follow-up matters had been fully handed over. That evening, Jiang Yan retrieved his phone from the project assistant.

When he turned it on, the phone — dormant for so long — took a few seconds to process before messages began flooding in: a stream of text messages and missed calls.

The most recent message was a WeChat message from Song Yuan —

Brother, call me back as soon as you see this. Something’s happened.

Jiang Yan’s brow furrowed. He called Song Yuan back.

—

After New Year’s Eve, Fang Yisong’s physical condition gradually improved. But Lin Tao was not at ease and stayed by her side day and night.

When the brief winter vacation ended, Lin Tao requested an additional month’s leave from Lu Xian, devoting herself fully to caring for Fang Yisong at home.

The scene of Fang Yisong moving toward the railing at the river had left a deep shadow in Lin Tao’s heart. She was now like a frightened bird, terrified that one careless moment might lead to another accident.

In the month she spent caring for Fang Yisong, Lin Tao had barely slept a peaceful night. Sometimes, even when she managed to fall asleep, she would jolt awake in the middle of the night.

As time went on, rather than Fang Yisong’s health collapsing first, it was Lin Tao who couldn’t hold on anymore. She grew worse with every passing day, and one time, while fetching medicine for Fang Yisong, she collapsed at the hospital entrance.

When Lin Tao next came to, she was lying in a hospital room. Fang Yisong was seated nearby, lost in thought. The moment she heard Lin Tao stir, she quickly looked up, urgency in her voice. “How do you feel — any better? Is anything hurting?”

Lin Tao shook her head. “Mom, I’m fine.”

At those words, Fang Yisong’s eyes grew red. She reached up and touched Lin Tao’s face, choking out “as long as you’re fine” twice in a row.

Lin Tao reached over and held Fang Yisong’s hand, and said nothing.

Lin Tao’s illness had come on suddenly, and at the same time it dealt a heavy blow to Fang Yisong’s heart. She gradually began to pull herself out of the shock of the divorce.

After Lin Tao was discharged from the hospital, Fang Yisong took the initiative to contact Lin Yongcheng and met with him once.

Shortly afterward, the Lin family enterprise published a divorce announcement from Lin Yongcheng and Fang Yisong in the Xi City Daily, which sparked considerable discussion.

Lin Yongcheng was a well-known entrepreneur in Xi City, and his love story with his wife Fang Yisong had long been the envy of many. The sudden public announcement of their divorce naturally drew a great deal of attention. A number of gossip publications attempted to dig up the inside story of the divorce from every angle, but unfortunately uncovered nothing particularly explosive.

The moment the divorce announcement appeared, Lin Tao received a call from Meng Xin. Then Guan Che and Song Yuan and the others all called in turn. Even the perpetually swamped Hu Hanghang squeezed out a moment to send her a message.

But things had come to this point, and there was little to be gained in saying more.

After the break ended, Lin Tao returned to school. Fang Yisong remained in Xi City, though she had begun making preparations to relocate her new company to Jing’an City.

The unpleasant events seemed, somehow, to have turned the page. Life went on, one day at a time.

Back at school, Lin Tao grew busier still because of the time she had lost before. Lu Xian, knowing something difficult had happened at home, often invited her to dinner and shared amusing stories from her own younger years, partly to offer some comfort and guidance.

One evening, Lin Tao and Liang Yue were leaving the library together.

The campus was draped in the colors of dusk, sky and ground blending into one soft hue. The breeze of late spring carried warmth with it.

On the way back to the dormitory, Liang Yue noticed a photo of Jiang Yan in a display window along the path and said casually, “Hey, Tao Tao, isn’t your Jiang classmate coming back soon?”

“Something like that.” Lin Tao smiled. “I can’t quite remember exactly when.”

When Jiang Yan had first gone to Syria, Lin Tao had counted the days — counting how many days he’d been gone and calculating when he would be back.

Then her family’s troubles came, and caring for Fang Yisong alone left her no room to think about it. It wasn’t until New Year’s Eve that night that she had suddenly realized how deeply she had been longing for him — a longing that had already seeped into her very bones.

“It really does feel like so much time has passed.” Liang Yue linked her arm through Lin Tao’s and asked a very practical question. “Tao Tao, if in the future Jiang classmate often disappears for a year or half a year at a stretch with no way to reach him, do you think you’d find it too exhausting and give up on this relationship? Even two people with deep feelings can change over time, can’t they.”

Lin Tao looked downward, her eyes quiet, and didn’t speak — whatever she was thinking, it wasn’t clear.

Liang Yue suddenly remembered her parents and tugged at her arm hesitantly. “Tao Tao, I didn’t mean to —”

Before she could finish, the phone in Lin Tao’s pocket rang. When she pulled it out and saw Jiang Yan’s name on the screen, she still felt somewhat disoriented.

Liang Yue happened to glance at the screen. “Oh!” she said in delighted surprise. “It’s your Jiang classmate calling — why aren’t you answering?”

Lin Tao came back to herself and answered the call.

Jiang Yan’s voice was slightly rushed. “Where are you?”

“At school.”

“Specific location.”

“Downstairs from my dormitory.”

“Wait there for me.” He said it, and then hung up.

Lin Tao held the phone, still somewhat dazed.

Liang Yue waved her hand in front of her face. “What’s the matter with you? What did Jiang Yan say?”

“He told me to wait here.” Lin Tao put the phone back in her pocket, still not quite processing things.

“Jiang classmate is back in China?” Liang Yue smiled. “Then I’ll carry your books up for you — I’m meeting a friend for dinner tonight anyway.”

“Oh — okay.” Lin Tao handed over the books, then suddenly said, “Yue Yue, I have an answer to the question you just asked.”

“Hmm?”

“I won’t. Even if we’re apart for longer in the future, I won’t give up on this relationship.” Lin Tao raised her eyes, and the smile in them was soft. “Because he is the person I want to spend my whole life with.”

—

Before she saw Jiang Yan, Lin Tao had imagined she would have many grievances to pour out to him. But when she actually saw him, she found she couldn’t get a single one out — and even felt as though all that hurt somehow seemed less unbearable now, standing in front of him, than it had at the time.

“What’s wrong?” Lin Tao looked at the slightly grave expression on Jiang Yan’s face, curved her lips into a smile, and spoke in an ordinary tone. “When did you get back?”

“A few days ago.” He had run all the way from the car, and his throat was a little dry. He swallowed, and his voice still came out a bit rough. “I’m sorry.”

Lin Tao made a sound of mild confusion. “What are you apologizing for out of nowhere?”

Jiang Yan said nothing. He stepped forward and folded her into his arms. At this height, Lin Tao’s face pressed right against his chest, and in her ear was the slightly rapid beating of his heart.

After a moment of silence, Lin Tao scratched lightly at his back. “Jiang Yan, you don’t have to apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong. And I don’t blame you for not being able to be by my side during that time.”

He stayed silent, only tightening his arms slightly around her.

Lin Tao quietly sighed, then tilted her head back and stood on her toes to press a kiss against his jaw. Then she settled back against him and said quietly, “I just missed you very much.”

Jiang Yan said, “Me too.”

There were people coming and going in front of the dormitory entrance, and it wasn’t long before the two of them standing there began drawing attention. Lin Tao noticed and nudged his arm. “People are watching.”

“Let them.” Jiang Yan didn’t care. “It’s not like I’m charging admission.”

“……”

But they weren’t able to stand there very long — not because the onlookers kept multiplying, but because night had fallen, and from the surrounding hedgerows a swarm of mosquitoes emerged. Lin Tao had several bites on her legs already.

Jiang Yan went to a nearby convenience store and bought a small bottle of medicated balm, then rubbed it on the spots where she’d been bitten.

Under the lamplight, Lin Tao watched his movements and reached out to touch his cheek. “You seem a little thinner.”

“Yes.” Jiang Yan kept his head low, not pausing his hands. “Everyone who went got thinner. I’m actually one of the ones who lost the least.”

Lin Tao smiled. “Should I compliment you for that?”

“As you like.” Jiang Yan finished with the bitten spots on her legs and then put a little balm on the inside of her wrists as well. Finally he screwed the cap back on, set the bottle aside, and stayed crouched where he was, looking up at her.

The moon was bright, the trees clear. The wind carried a clean, crisp scent.

Jiang Yan took her hand, holding it very firmly. His eyes seemed to hold a kind of light. When he looked at her, his gaze was gentle and certain at once. “Lin Tao.”

“Hmm?” She looked back at him, that same light in her own eyes.

Jiang Yan rolled his throat gently. When he spoke again, his voice carried a barely perceptible undercurrent of nerves. “Let’s get married.”

The wind stilled, then rose again. In the background, cicadas began their soft, rustling chorus. In the late spring night with its sparse stars and bright moon, the man’s features were half-hidden in the mingled shadow of moonlight and dark, not quite distinct.

Lin Tao didn’t know why.

She had felt no grievance at all when she first saw him — yet somehow, hearing those five words, it was as though she had suffered some enormous wrong.

She looked at him, without a word, crying quietly.

Jiang Yan’s heart ached unbearably. He reached out to wipe the tears from her face, and tried to lighten the moment with a tease. “Is marrying me really so much to grieve over? Hmm?”

Lin Tao shook her head. She wanted to say something, but before she could, her own sobbing swallowed the words.

Jiang Yan silently let out a breath inside. He rose and drew her into his arms, giving the top of her head a soothing rub, as if in comfort. “I’m back.”

Hearing those words, everything Lin Tao had been holding back seemed to reach a peak, and at last she buried her face in his chest and cried without restraint.

Between sobs and catches of breath, she poured out everything that had been weighing on her.

Her parents’ divorce.

Fang Yisong’s attempt to take her own life.

Her own breakdown.

……

Everything, piece by piece, came tumbling out with her tears.

At last, Lin Tao nestled in his arms, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, like a person drifting on the sea who had found a piece of driftwood to hold onto. “Jiang Yan… my home is gone……”

Jiang Yan listened in silence as she gave voice to all of it. When he heard her last sentence, he gently pulled her away from his chest and crouched down again to meet her eyes. His thumb brushed the tears from the corners of her eyes, and his voice was warm and firm. “Don’t be afraid. We will have a home of our own.”

A home that belongs to the two of us.

—

Not long after that rather informal proposal from Jiang Yan, Lin Tao once again followed in Professor Lu Xian’s footsteps to remote regions of the country to provide legal aid.

Jiang Yan remained as he always had — spending his days buried in the laboratory, or making the trek to the research institute every few days, nowhere to be seen from morning to night.

Spring gave way to summer, and before they knew it, another sweltering summer had arrived.

By summer break, Fang Yisong had relocated all of her assets in Xi City to Jing’an and transferred everything under the name of her new company there.

But she no longer threw herself entirely into her work the way she used to. Instead, she hired professional managers to handle most of the company’s affairs, and only appeared in person for important decision-making meetings.

In the height of summer, Jiang Yan and Lin Tao each had a two-week holiday. They moved out of school and back into the apartment Fang Yisong had newly purchased in Jing’an City.

After dinner one evening, Fang Yisong called Jiang Yan into the study. The two of them spoke for over half an hour, and when Jiang Yan came out, his expression was somewhat grave.

Lin Tao sidled up to him. “What did my mom talk to you about?”

“The matter of our marriage.” Jiang Yan said.

Lin Tao looked at him, hesitating. “Judging by your expression… my mom didn’t refuse to agree, did she?”

Jiang Yan made a sound of confirmation. “Your mom offered me ten million yuan to leave you.”

“……”

Jiang Yan couldn’t keep the act up. He let a smile through — and then, without any warning, pulled a ring out of his pocket and slid it directly onto her ring finger. Then, as if completing some great mission, he let out a sigh of relief. “There. We’ll go get our marriage certificate in a few days.”

The whole process was even more casual than the proposal had been. By the time Lin Tao came back to her senses, he had already turned and was heading back to his room. Lin Tao ran after him and blocked his way, looking slightly incredulous. “That’s — that’s it? You’re just done?”

Jiang Yan massaged the bridge of his nose lightly, apparently trying to think whether he had missed something.

A moment later, it seemed to dawn on him. He lifted her hand — the one wearing the ring — and bent his head to press his lips to it. Then he looked up and met her gaze, his eyes bottomlessly warm, his voice low and deliberate. “Esteemed Ms. Lin Tao, may I ask — are you willing to marry Mr. Jiang Yan, to become his wife, and from this day forward, no matter what may come, never part again?”

Lin Tao stood motionless for a long moment. At last, she smiled and said, “I am.”

No matter what may come.

As long as it is you, I am willing.