When Jing Qichi called, Chen Huan’er was watching an elderly poker game in the neighboring yard. His tone was quite dissatisfied, “Joy shared is joy doubled – did you give everything back to the teachers?”

Huan’er was thoroughly enjoying the game, and hearing his gloom made her even happier, “And who might you be, big brother?”

Jing Qichi rolled his eyes in frustration and tossed the phone, which was on speaker, to Song Cong beside him, “You talk to her, I’m afraid I’ll start cursing.”

“Huan’er,” Song Cong called out with a laugh, “when are you coming back?”

“Can’t I just not go back?” Chen Huan’er wailed to the heavens, “I’m having… too much fun!”

Song Cong laughed for a while, “Seeing how you barely reply to messages, I thought you hadn’t gotten over it yet. Is Sishui that fun?”

They had a three-person QQ group, mainly used to communicate about who had duty and needed to leave early, whose parents had night shift so they’d eat at whose house, and for Song Cong to post standard answers for problems they couldn’t solve. After returning home, Huan’er was quite resistant to socializing, responding to friends’ greetings only every few days with a “still alive, don’t worry,” and gradually the group fell silent, with Jing Qichi and Song Cong giving her time to adjust.

“It’s fun,” Huan’er answered, then hurriedly stopped her grandfather who was about to play the wrong card, “Play this one, he has no pairs left.”

Hearing this, Jing Qichi shouted, “Chen Huan’er, you’re wreaking havoc on the masses again!”

“Get lost,” the girl replied.

The cheerfulness on the other end of the phone ignited the urgency that had been hidden in Song Cong’s heart. He moved closer to the microphone, “Huan’er, I… we want to come visit you in Sishui?” He paused for half a second before adding the question, “Is that okay?”

“You want to come?” Chen Huan’er never imagined her city friends would be willing to come to her small hometown. She immediately abandoned watching the second half of the card game and ran home, “Wait, let me check the bus schedule.”

“No need, I know it,” Song Cong had long memorized the bus schedule from Tianhe to Sishui.

Huan’er was overjoyed, “Which day do you want to come? I’ll meet you at the station.”

“No need, just send us the address, we can…” Before Song Cong could finish, Jing Qichi grabbed the phone, “Chen Huan’er, tell Qi Qi too! We haven’t heard from her lately, if she wants to come we can all go together.”

“Qi can’t come,” Huan’er deliberately held back information, “anyway, you’ll find out when school starts.”

Her friend had gotten double eyelid surgery after receiving her scores and had sent a photo of her eyelids red and swollen with blood vessels showing. Chen Huan’er’s jaw nearly hit the floor, and she couldn’t help exclaiming, “You’re so fashionable!” Fashionable was the only description she could think of, and after hearing the price, her exclamation changed to “You’re so rich!” Qi Qi promised it would look good, the only cost being two cuts and not being able to see people during the recovery period.

No matter how much Jing Qichi pestered her with questions, Chen Huan’er kept her mouth sealed. Surprises needed the right atmosphere, and she was determined to contribute to building it.

Song Cong had no curiosity about this. His initial question had been tentative, but Huan’er had immediately agreed, and now he was thinking about something else. His gaze fell on the calendar, and suddenly an idea struck him, “Can your house fit both of us? We could watch the opening ceremony together tomorrow.”

He wanted to see her, wanted to know if she was okay, and wanted to confirm if she had really gotten over the school choice matter. The sooner the better.

The Olympics opened at eight in the evening – staying overnight made perfect sense.

“Tomorrow?” Huan’er was somewhat surprised.

“Yes, tomorrow,” Song Cong didn’t want to wait any longer, his words certain.

Huan’er guessed that Song’s parents probably had night shifts again, and her friend needed someone to share the joy of this milestone event with. She immediately took on the role of host, “No problem. My home’s doors are always open, Sishui welcomes you.”

“Then it’s settled,” Song Cong replied calmly, though his heart had already rushed ahead to that unknown small city.

At five o’clock the next afternoon, the two boys arrived in Sishui.

As soon as he got off the bus, Song Cong started looking for the public bus stop. He had checked in advance – take bus number three for seven stops, then walk five hundred meters to reach Huan’er’s home. The route wasn’t complicated.

Jing Qichi, on the other hand, was completely unprepared – he had always been like this, following behind Song Cong, protected from wind and rain. Entering unfamiliar territory, he curiously surveyed his surroundings, and soon noticed the middle school across from the bus station, “Look, that must be Chen Huan’er’s previous school.”

It was summer vacation, and the school’s iron gates were tightly closed, with the guard in his booth nearly dozing off.

Though it was his first time seeing it, Song Cong felt strangely familiar. He carefully took in every detail of the school, unconsciously muttering, “How did she get to school…”

“Must have been by bike,” Jing Qichi snorted with laughter, “with her cycling skills, it must have taken three to five years to master.”

A dynamic image unfolded in Song Cong’s mind – a girl in school uniform skillfully weaving through the busy streets, sometimes chatting and laughing with friends, sometimes anxious about being late, the wind lifting her hair – and now the whole world could see that she had such a bright and confident face.

Song Cong knew why he would think of these things, and increasingly understood why.

“Let’s go,” he patted Jing Qichi’s shoulder, “the bus is coming.”

“Wait, let me take a photo.”

“Why take a photo?”

“Doesn’t Chen Huan’er always say how good their Sishui schools are and how big they are,” Jing Qichi pressed the shutter, “keeping this to throw back in her face.”

Grandfather and grandmother treated the two young city guests with the highest hospitality – fresh cucumbers with yellow flowers, watery-fleshed tomatoes, and fragrant round strawberries. Song Cong repeatedly said thanks and that they shouldn’t trouble themselves, while Jing Qichi ate with such satisfaction that sweat beaded on his nose.

Seeing this, Huan’er teased, “Are you at a buffet?”

The boy retorted, “How many free meals have you eaten at my place, forgotten?”

“Song Cong hasn’t said anything, you’re the only one making a fuss.”

“Me? Who started this?”

“Stop it,” Song Cong intervened, nudging his friend, “that’s enough from you.”

“Again?” Jing Qichi was exasperated, swallowing a whole strawberry in one gulp, “Old Song, how many times has it been? Even if you don’t help your kind, you should at least help reason prevail!”

“You have a reason? King Reason?” Huan’er laughed loudly, “Koi fish, you really think you’re a lucky charm?”

Song Cong kept shaking his head to the side – apart, they missed each other; together, they started bickering. These two little friends were truly impossible to manage.

“Huan’er,” Grandmother called from the kitchen, “come to get a scallion.”

“Grandmother, do you need help?” Song Cong said as he stood up and went inside.

Huan’er didn’t use the steps, jumping directly from the meter-high cement patio into the garden. After pulling up a large flowering scallion, she was about to support herself on the patio to jump back up when her grandfather, returning from buying cooked food, came running from the main gate, “No jumping! You’ll fall!”

Huan’er giggled, waited for her grandfather to come closer, handed him the scallion, and climbed up the steps one by one with her arm linked through his.

“If you don’t behave, I’ll tell your father,” Grandfather nagged, “how many times have I told you to be careful.”

“Yes, yes,” the girl nodded repeatedly, pushing the old man back into the house before returning to sit on the patio bench.

Jing Qichi watched this scene.

He wanted to share it with Song Cong but found his friend wasn’t beside him, so he shook his head and looked at Huan’er incredulously, “Nice moves.”

Supporting yourself with one hand and jumping up from a height of over a meter – Chen Huan’er was barely average height, and this level of difficulty would probably be challenging even for some boys.

Add to that her strength, able to run several kilometers at night without breaking a sweat, and Jing Qichi couldn’t help sighing, “Chen Huan’er, your physical condition is incredible, probably been strong as a bull since birth.”

“What’s it to you?”

“Bull.”

“Shut up.”

“No, you’re a real bull.”

When it came to banter, with the right person, every day could be Children’s Day.

The opening ceremony was spectacular and dazzling, with everyone watching with surging emotions and repeated exclamations. The fifteen-year-olds kept their eyes glued to the TV, only commenting on the magnificent scenes and looking for their favorite athletes, completely unaware that they were becoming witnesses to history. After it ended, the elderly couple went to rest, while the three young classmates were still excited and sat chatting in the courtyard, each on a stool. Insects chirped, birds called, stars boiled in the sky, and the night wind made the peach tree in the corner of the yard sway and dance. Looking at the yard full of fruits and vegetables, Song Cong sighed, “They’re growing so well.”

The soil that nurtured these plants wasn’t the artificial particles in balcony flowerpots, but fine, gentle, dense, such solid earth – it was the nature that all things relied upon and looked up to.

Their guardians were precisely the people living in rural Sishui who viewed the land as a treasure.

But society was too flashy and utilitarian, everyone breaking their heads to climb up, and the guardians of the land became marginalized by the tide of the times.

Fortunately, Chen Huan’er’s generation still had memories of them. Further on, they might become just stories in Chinese textbooks.

Jing Qichi leaned lazily against the wall and said, “If I were you, I wouldn’t have transferred schools, this place is so comfortable.”

He remembered the security guard with a red armband at the entrance to the family quarters, the sandy playground with goalposts without nets at the children’s school, the smell of disinfectant from the side building through to the main building to reach his mother’s office – these were his childhood, days and nights revolving around the red buildings of the family quarters. Though Chen Huan’er was from a small place, her childhood had an endless night sky, winds blowing from all directions, and wonderful creatures flying or crawling freely – the world she saw was truly vast.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Huan’er replied quietly, “you’d have to be my parents to talk about this.”

Becoming a halfway city person was already set in stone, and there was no going back in this world.

Seeing her downcast expression, Jing Qichi beckoned, “Call me daddy.”

“Pest,” Huan’er shot back. Turning to the other side, Song Cong was sitting comfortably in the rocking chair with his eyes closed. She pushed him, “Can you go straight into the Olympic class?”

Song Cong slowly opened his eyes, “I could, but I’m not going.”

“Why?” the ordinary queue duo asked in unison.

Seeing their ‘more anxious than the emperor himself’ expressions, he burst out laughing, “Just don’t want to.”

“Why?” Huan’er and Qichi looked at each other, rarely so in sync.

Song Cong scratched his head, “Don’t want to deal with competition.” He paused, “I want to go to medical school.”

Huan’er’s voice was full of sympathy, “You… tell Uncle Song later, take it one year at a time.”

“Early or late, there’s no way out,” Jing Qichi offered advice, “might as well make it a done deal first.”

Song Cong watched their half-serious, half-joking expressions and smiled to himself, nodding with mock solemnity, “Makes sense.”

If word got out, it would probably be the family quarters’ top headline – the academically brilliant Song family’s son had gone completely stupid, abandoning the bright path to rush headlong into the gates of hell by studying medicine.

The latter half of summer passed with one sports competition after another. Huan’er added Qi Qi to the small group, and the four shared their viewing thoughts on QQ every day, their rooms filled with the “ding ding” sound of messages. A week before school started, she bid a reluctant farewell to her grandparents, and her first task upon returning to Tianhe was to visit the double eyelid patient.

Qi Qi had practically changed faces – though there were still small bumps visible around her eyelids and they were still slightly swollen, her eyes seemed a size larger, making her whole face even more pretty. Huan’er observed from all angles, up and down, left and right, and couldn’t help clapping, “Stunningly beautiful!”

“I’m just hoping the swelling goes down quickly now, otherwise I can’t face anyone,” Qi Qi pouted, “My whole summer vacation was spent on these eyelids.”

“You were really brave to do it, what if it had scarred?”

Qi Qi was silent for a moment, then suddenly became serious, “I just wanted to become a bit prettier and more excellent, otherwise…”

A young girl’s concerns were always hard to express, she couldn’t say it.

Huan’er didn’t understand, “Otherwise what?”

“Otherwise how could I have the nerve to be in the same class as you!” Qi Qi smiled, excitedly sharing the good news, “We’ll be in the same class when school starts!”

“Really?” Huan’er was so excited she almost lifted the person off the ground, but then thought it seemed strange, “The class assignments are out already?”

“They’re still assigning, not announced yet,” Qi Qi tilted her head and informed her, “My dad had dinner with the principal last week and specially requested it. You, me, Jing Qichi, putting the three of us in a better class shouldn’t be a problem.”

Huan’er listened quietly. She didn’t know what kind of background her friend had to be able to casually have dinner with the principal, nor did she know whether to be happy about having such a loyal friend or sad for those who didn’t have such friends.

Qi Qi’s tone dropped slightly, “Just Song Cong couldn’t be helped. He’s the top scorer in the entrance exam, automatically assigned to the Olympic class.”

“He’s not going to the Olympic class,” Huan’er informed her truthfully, “Song Cong said he doesn’t want to go, wants to study medicine.”

She didn’t understand what was different about the Olympic class, or what conflict it had with medical school – these were questions beyond her scope, no need to figure them out.

“Are you sure?” Qi Qi’s eyes lit up again.

“Absolutely certain.”

This year, a sister in the family quarters wanted to apply for medical school after the college entrance exam. Her parents couldn’t talk her out of it, so they brought in all the hospital’s doctors to work on her thinking – representatives from internal medicine, surgery, gynecology, pediatrics, and even radiology came, breaking it down by department and attacked from all angles, forcefully crushing the sprout in its cradle.

So for their children, saying you wanted to study medicine was equivalent to finding creative ways to die. Since Song Cong had said it, he must have made up his mind, otherwise, who would joke about their precious life?