Have you ever had such thoughts – wishing time would slow down, slow enough that every minute could be remembered, allowing you to accomplish all your anticipated tasks in one breath during that limited pause; yet also wishing time would speed up, fast enough to skip over all the distance and separation, leaping straight to the moment of reunion?

In these days since Jing Qichi’s arrival, Huan Er often found herself caught in such contradictions.

Neither of them had meticulously planned how to spend their time together – not Jing Qichi, nor herself. Yet somehow, things she used to do alone naturally became memories shared between two people – like visiting the British Museum together, their legs aching from walking yet still not seeing everything; like riding the London Eye together, witnessing the Thames at night with its unique elegance; like eating together, sleeping together, going to the supermarket together, watching a movie together – all these repetitive, mundane activities became vivid and interesting because of that word “together.” Huan Er even began to feel grateful for this perpetually rainy city, where her experiences of loneliness and helplessness ultimately made her realize what she should cherish most.

The night before Jing Qichi’s departure, they went to bed very late, first packing luggage and checking flight tickets and documents, then lying in bed talking by moonlight.

Huan Er, leaning against his shoulder, asked, “Will the job transfer have a big impact?”

Though that city wasn’t unfamiliar to Jing Qichi, every aspect of daily life would need to start anew. She knew if it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t and wouldn’t need to make such a choice.

“Not at all,” Jing Qichi tried to ease her concerns with facts. “After Jiang Sen left, Qiu Yang and several others from the team followed him. The whole team’s getting reshuffled, staying would mean adapting from scratch anyway. At the R&D center, I’ll lead the medical division – multiple projects, and broad product lines. Gong Bo said once I get there, I can settle in and take charge. It’s a good thing.” His eyes lit up as he continued, “The R&D center has an inactive sports rehabilitation project, using AI to guide rehabilitation training. This field is already mature in Europe and Japan. Your school’s interdisciplinary program even has a dedicated sports rehabilitation laboratory…”

Huan Er was surprised. “You know all this?”

“It’s on the official website,” Jing Qichi said casually. “When I picked you up the day before yesterday, I wanted to see it, but couldn’t find it.”

Huan Er nodded, “Many labs collaborate with companies and aren’t on campus.”

“That explains it, probably restricted access too.” Jing Qichi spoke enthusiastically about the field, “This domain is the future trend. Artificial intelligence algorithms integrated with rehabilitation prescriptions and blockchain, replacing traditional methods from diagnosis to training with data – shorter time, lower cost, smaller error margin, higher safety coefficient. The project stalled because the R&D center couldn’t connect with the Lab here. My transfer creates a perfect bridge – I can provide support when needed, and secure resources when required. Once the technology materializes into product solutions, we’ll see the light.”

Having seen and experienced it himself, Jing Qichi understood the potential better than others.

Huan Er nuzzled his chin, “Though I don’t understand it all, I think you’re amazing.”

Jing Qichi laughed, telling her with time-tempered maturity and confidence, “Just wait, you’ll be the first to understand when it’s ready.”

Rehabilitation training was part of his past he never shared with anyone. Huan Er knew too well what that young man looked like, gritting his teeth through countless leg lifts on the therapy bed. Those simplest of movements had shattered his dreams, yet years later, those past misfortunes and pain quietly reflected in another form. Fate revealed its generous gift through the light behind the shadows.

Jing Qichi added, “I’m more worried about your studies being affected by returning early.”

Her advisor had already approved her return to her home university after the semester.

“It won’t be,” Huan Er said firmly.

“If because…”

“Of course, you’re part of the reason,” she cut him off, anticipating his words. “Professor Ding always says the difficult path of research needs strong support behind it. I never took that to heart before. Pursuing a doctorate, studying abroad – I always put myself first, my desires above everything else.” Huan Er paused. “But now I know, as I continue forward, you’re my strongest pillar.”

Jing Qichi slipped his arm under her neck, pulling her into his embrace. “When I went to Beijing in senior year, I was the same – wanting to venture out and achieve something. I… I also ignored how the distance would affect us, ignored you.”

“Don’t say sorry,” Huan Er covered his mouth. “I want to apologize too. Let’s call it even if neither of us says it.”

Jing Qichi moved her hand away and found her lips for a deep kiss.

Huan Er tilted her head to meet this tender kiss, closing her eyes, yet tears welled up.

They finally gained a mature love through time’s refinement – once I thought I was important, later I realized you were equally important. Acknowledging oneself isn’t embarrassing, acknowledging you isn’t humble or unfair. Your choices and mine are like being asked as a child whether you prefer dad or mom – loving both, unable to rank first and second – after all, the word “equal” exists in this world.

Mature love is a balance – I don’t need to abandon myself for you, but I will change myself within my capabilities for you.

This was the lesson they learned in loving each other.

Song Cong had been troubled lately, or more precisely, by something he inadvertently learned but found difficult to bring up.

The first Friday after the Spring Festival holiday, he returned to Tianhe. Usually, he wouldn’t come back at this time – the holiday had just ended, and as he would finish his studies this summer, it was a crucial period juggling hospital, school, and thesis work. The mandatory return was because his advisor wanted him to drive to the airport tomorrow to pick up a returning industry authority from America. Song Cong knew this special treatment was reserved for favorite students, and as a junior, he naturally should serve as a driver, but his license wasn’t with him as he rarely drove.

Arriving at the staff quarters at four in the afternoon, having rushed back without bringing his house key, he headed straight to the Third Hospital to find his mother first. At the hospital building’s entrance, he saw Jing’s mother standing with an unfamiliar man in a suit. His first thought was it must be work-related – a patient’s family or otherwise, as a vice president naturally had more social interactions than regular doctors. Song Cong slowed his pace, thinking he’d greet them if their conversation was ending, or circle if it showed no signs of concluding.

Just as he was considering this, he saw the middle-aged man take out a camel-colored shawl from his gift bag. From that distance, Song Cong couldn’t hear their conversation, but he clearly saw the man directly wrap the shawl around Jing’s mother – he was presenting a gift in a manner exceeding social distance.

Jing’s mother didn’t shy away, instead securing the shawl following his gesture.

Song Cong quickly walked into the Third Hospital building.

It was crystal clear – not work-related.

The man appeared to be around his parents’ age, though he hadn’t examined his appearance carefully, probably a decent-looking ordinary person. Which meant, Jing’s mother was ready to start anew.

This thought was confirmed when he met his mother. In a private corner, Mom Song told him, “Old Liu is your father’s classmate’s friend, in the steel business. His ex-wife is from Macau, couldn’t adapt to life here, and took their child back to Macau when the kid was ten. A few years ago, your father arranged for him to meet your Aunt Lin. They know each other’s situations, and after gradually getting to know each other, both seem interested in moving forward, but probably because of Qichi, your Aunt Lin hasn’t expressed her stance.”

Song Cong, always generous-hearted, nodded at these words, “She should indeed move forward.”

“I’ve interacted with Old Liu, he’s an honest man. Your father also made inquiries indirectly – after his divorce, he’s been focused on business, living a proper life, a true scholarly businessman.” Mom Song looked up at her son, “It’s been many years since your Uncle Jing passed, and you kids have all grown up. You should be able to understand these things from an adult perspective, right?”

“Mom,” Song Cong crouched down, holding the wheelchair armrests, “Of course I understand, but Qichi still…”

“That’s why you need to guide him now that you know,” Mom Song sighed. “Your Aunt Lin has it tough, handling all sorts of hospital affairs big and small. Qichi’s away most of the time, and sometimes can’t come back for months when busy. As a mother, she hopes for the best for your kids, is worried about asking too little, afraid of bothering you if she asks too much. She finally meets someone suitable who she can talk to, and who else could be holding her back from speaking up?”

Song Cong fell silent.

He just felt that they – himself, Du Man, Qichi, Huan Er – had all been too selfish.

Living in their worlds, always concerned about career prospects, relationship directions, friends’ happiness, and everything revolving around themselves, they’d grown too accustomed to giving the least attention to their dearest family members.

“I understand,” Song Cong said, though he had no idea how to guide Jing Qichi – this wasn’t his area of expertise, and having grown up as close as brothers, he worried this would hurt him. The closer the relationship, often the harder the decision.

“Better head back now, don’t delay your work,” Mom Song carefully instructed. “Leave the key at home, your father and I will return together after work. Take everything you need, and drive carefully tomorrow.”

“Mom, I’ll bring a friend home sometime soon,” Song Cong said while pushing her wheelchair back to her office. “Let you meet and get to know each other.”

This was a sudden thought, spoken without hesitation. Usually, Song Cong would never do this – he would lay the groundwork with details first, confirm both parties’ schedules, and anticipate possible situations until everything was within control before arranging the actual meeting. He realized he had changed somewhat, skipping unnecessary planning, and beginning to respect those occasional impulses.

Just like now, he clearly understood his parents’ unspoken but constant concern, and he wanted to ease their worries.

“A friend coming to our home?” Mom Song had already gleaned something from her son’s expression. “Great, I’ll make my specialty dishes, won’t embarrass you.”

Song Cong smiled, “You’d better maintain my face.”

“How did you meet?”

“Just classmates.”

“University classmates?”

“Both high school and university classmates.”

“A local girl then.” Mom Song immediately identified key information from the brief answers, turning to smile at her son. “Quite the covert operation.”

“Not at all,” Song Cong turned away, blushing. “We only got close later.”

“Well, whatever you say.”

“Mom!”

“I’ll ask Huan Er and Qichi about it sometime.”

“There’s nothing to find out even if you search heaven and earth,” Song Cong said with a straight face. “You know what I was like in high school.”

Mom Song paused, then pulled him beside her, her expression slightly moved, “Son, has Mom made things difficult for you?”

“Just the opposite.” Song Cong first shook his head, then looked at his mother and smiled. “You are my role model, Mom. One and only, my sole role model.”