Zhou Wan had an absurd dream about running a marathon. In the dream, she was running on an endless road, everyone desperately racing forward, no one daring to stop, as if some terrible monster would catch them if they did.

She struggled forward with the surging crowd.

But she was too exhausted.

Countless people passed her, leaving her behind.

Then suddenly someone gripped her hand from behind.

Zhou Wan couldn’t see his face, but he felt a gust of wind, pulling her along, pushing her forward.

Yet as they ran, he too disappeared.

Though everyone was running in the same direction, Zhou Wan suddenly felt lost, unable to see clearly, unable to understand anything.

Should she keep running?

Where was she running to?

Zhou Wan stopped, standing still amid the surging crowd, looking back.

Logic told her not to stop, to keep running, but she was knocked down and had no strength to get up.

She watched as the road behind her burst apart with soil and gravel, like a scene from an apocalyptic movie, quickly spreading to beneath her feet.

She fell rapidly, wind whistling in her ears.

Among it was the phrase “Zhou Wan, spend every New Year with me from now on,” but it was quickly torn to shreds by the violent wind until nothing could be heard.

She plunged into an abyss of no return.

…

“Beep―”

Black seawater flooded into the bedroom.

Zhou Wan jolted awake from her sleep, answering the phone: “Hello, are you Huang Xuefen’s granddaughter? This is the City People’s Hospital.”

Zhou Wan sprang up from her bed.

An extremely ominous feeling welled up inside her.

“Yes,” she quickly said, not hesitating for a moment as she got out of bed, “I’m coming right now, please treat my grandmother first, I’ll come to pay the medical fees immediately.”

Zhou Wan grabbed a coat and threw it on over her nightgown, not even taking time to change her pants, slipping on cotton slippers as she ran out of the bedroom.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a gentle voice meant to comfort: “I’m sorry, we did everything we could.”

*

Zhou Wan had thought she would never be ready to face this day.

But in reality, she was much calmer than she had imagined.

She changed her clothes properly, took a taxi to the hospital, and didn’t cry at all along the way.

At the hospital, there were many people by the elevator, but she even had the strength to take the stairs.

Grandmother lay there quietly, peaceful and serene, as if she were just sleeping.

The nurse explained that her grandmother had suffered a sudden myocardial infarction, a complication of uremia. She had collapsed on the street and was found by a passerby who called 120, but unfortunately, there were no vital signs by the time she reached the hospital.

It was too sudden.

Someone perfectly fine one moment, gone the next from a heart attack.

That morning when grandmother left, Zhou Wan hadn’t even properly said goodbye.

She lowered her eyes, made a soft sound of acknowledgment, and asked quietly: “Is the person who brought my grandmother here still around? I’d like to thank them.”

The nurse, seeing such an unusual reaction for the first time, was taken aback. Sensing something wasn’t right with Zhou Wan’s state, she studied her carefully and said: “It was a delivery rider, but they had orders to deliver and already left.”

Zhou Wan nodded: “Could I have some time alone with my grandmother?”

“Of course.”

The nurse turned to leave, but at the doorway, she suddenly remembered something and came back, “Oh right, these are your grandmother’s belongings.”

Zhou Wan turned to look.

The nurse opened her palm, revealing a yellow sachet.

The nurse said: “Your grandmother was still clutching it tightly when she was brought to the hospital.”

It was… the blessing sachet grandmother had gone to the temple to get for her today.

To pray that her Wan-wan would get good grades and that her Wan-wan would have a smooth, happy, and blessed life.

Zhou Wan took it: “Thank you.”

The nurse left, gently closing the door behind her. Only Zhou Wan remained in the room.

She looked down at the sachet.

She looked for a long time until her eyes grew sore and bloodshot.

“Grandmother.”

She crouched down, looking at Grandmother on the bed.

“Why did you leave me alone too?”

She clutched the sachet tightly, pressing her lips together firmly, and continued: “But I can carry on by myself, don’t worry, you can see Father now, you’ve missed him.”

Zhou Wan paused, her nails digging deep into her flesh, almost drawing blood. She lowered her head and said in an extremely quiet voice: “But I miss him too, and I’ll miss you.”

…

After saying goodbye to their grandmother, Zhou Wan contacted the funeral home.

There were many things to prepare, so Zhou Wan didn’t stay long at the hospital, returning home instead.

The house was completely dark. Zhou Wan turned on the lights, looking at the emptiness before her. Nothing had changed, yet somehow everything felt infinitely more desolate.

She walked into grandmother’s bedroom and opened the wardrobe.

She took out a light gray sweater, planning to dress Grandmother in it for the cremation.

This sweater was bought for grandmother last year with her scholarship money, but grandmother had been too frugal to wear it, barely using it even now.

She kept her eyes lowered, maintaining her composure throughout.

Even when she found the insurance policies in her grandmother’s drawer while sorting through her belongings, she didn’t shed a tear.

All those insurance policies were in her name. Zhou Wan had never known how grandmother, who couldn’t read, had managed to buy these, or what thoughts she’d had while doing so.

After she was gone, her Wan-wan would truly be alone.

She could only try her best to make life a little smoother for her Wan-wan.

In the dim bedroom light, Zhou Wan’s face held only a faint trace of moonlight, her entire body shrouded in shadow, making her appear fragile and insubstantial.

Yet she didn’t cry, didn’t show any expression at all.

But this calmness was more terrifying. Beneath her unruffled exterior, something seemed to have long since lost its balance, teetering on the edge, about to collapse.

*

After two days of competition, Lu Xixiao won first place as expected, with a prize of twenty thousand.

Some related clubs had noticed him and wanted to invite him to join, but he declined without interest. He put the envelope containing the stack of bills in his pocket while dialing Zhou Wan’s number, but it was powered off.

Lu Xixiao frowned slightly and kept dialing.

“Enough already.” Huang Ping leaned his arm on the counter, gleefully saying, “Told you not to wait until now to contact her. You had to wait until you won the prize, and now she’s even angrier. You’ll probably have to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness.”

“She went to another province for a competition, she prepared for so long, I didn’t want to disturb her at this time.” Lu Xixiao said quietly, still looking down and messaging Zhou Wan, “She might still be on the plane.”

On his way home, passing by Zhou Wan’s community, he looked up in that direction. All the lights were off, completely dark, probably because she hadn’t returned yet.

He called again, but still no answer, so he switched to sending messages.

[6: Are you back?]

Under the streetlight, the tall youth stood straight.

He looked down, continuing to type: Let me know when you land.

He paused, then deleted it all, opening the flight app to search for flights between Pingchuan City and City B. There were two evening flights in total, one at eight o’clock and one at midnight.

There was still time to make it.

Lu Xixiao took a taxi directly to the airport.

He stood at the crowded arrival exit, thinking about what to say when he saw Zhou Wan.

It was his first time lowering his head in a relationship, he had no experience and didn’t know how to apologize. He rehearsed several times in his head, scrapping and rewriting, feeling unusually nervous.

Afraid that Zhou Wan was truly angry, afraid that Zhou Wan wouldn’t forgive him.

He knew he had a bad temper, sometimes couldn’t control his emotions, and had a rigid backbone that wouldn’t bow or compromise, which led to the current situation.

As long as Zhou Wan still liked him, that was enough.

Nothing else mattered. At their age, just liking each other was sufficient.

Lu Xixiao had thought he would spend his whole life playing around, he had never truly loved anyone, never truly cared about anyone.

He knew clearly that if there was one person who could enter his heart in this lifetime, it could only be Zhou Wan.

He stood at the arrival gate, watching passengers from flight after flight emerges, hugging, holding hands, and kissing their waiting loved ones, leaving with faces full of smiles.

From seven-thirty until midnight, the airport crowds changed several times.

Now the people coming and going were all weary-faced travelers waiting for red-eye flights.

Lu Xixiao wasn’t sure which flight Zhou Wan would take. He pressed his dry eyes and checked the flight schedule again, there was still one at two in the morning.

He went to the smoking room for a cigarette, then came out to continue waiting.

But even when the sky began to show signs of dawn, he still hadn’t seen Zhou Wan.

Perhaps she had returned in the afternoon.

Lu Xixiao called her again, still powered off.

He frowned, not knowing if Zhou Wan simply hadn’t noticed her phone or if she was deliberately ignoring him.

For some reason, he felt uneasy.

He walked out of the airport and hailed a taxi: “To Yangming High School.”

The driver looked at him through the rearview mirror, smiling: “Eyes all red from staying up, and still going to school? High school students have it tough these days.”

Lu Xixiao returned a polite smile: “No, my girlfriend’s angry, going to make up with her.”

The driver raised an eyebrow dramatically: “Oh? Puppy love?”

“Mm.”

“Don’t the teachers at your school mind?”

Lu Xixiao made casual conversation to pass time, casually saying: “My girlfriend has good grades, I benefit from that, don’t get lectured.”

The driver laughed: “Those good students at your Yangming can get into Qinghua University, right?”

“Mm.” Lu Xixiao lowered the car window for some air, and tugged at the corner of his mouth, “My girlfriend can get in through recommended admission.”

*

The taxi stopped at the school gate. The security guard, seeing it was Lu Xixiao, didn’t stop him for not wearing a uniform – it was already impressive enough that this troublemaker was coming to school.

Lu Xixiao ran all the way upstairs, heading straight for Class 1, Grade 2.

His hair was disheveled from running, and he was breathing lightly, Zhou Wan’s seat was empty, but Jiang Yan was in the classroom, so she must have returned.

He knocked on the door and asked: “Is Zhou Wan here?”

The classroom was very quiet.

People whispered and discussed.

In the end, it was Jiang Yan who stood up, coldly eyeing Lu Xixiao: “You don’t know where Zhou Wan is?”

Lu Xixiao didn’t speak, tilting his head slightly.

“She never went to the competition, no one could contact her all weekend.” Jiang Yan walked forward, facing Lu Xixiao directly in the corridor outside the classroom. He pulled up the corner of his mouth, showing a contemptuous, mocking smile, “Didn’t you break up with her? Why are you looking for her now?”

Lu Xixiao couldn’t be bothered by the provocative tone in his voice, his mind spinning with the earlier words.

No one could contact her all weekend.

Zhou Wan hadn’t gone to the competition.

She had prepared day and night for so long, yet didn’t go to the competition at all.

“What happened to her?” Lu Xixiao struggled to steady his voice.

Jiang Yan didn’t want to tell Lu Xixiao.

But now Zhou Wan was unreachable, and he was helpless. However, perhaps… Lu Xixiao had a way.

After all, Zhou Wan had once told him that she had fallen for Lu Xixiao.

“Her grandmother passed away,” Jiang Yan said.

Lu Xixiao’s mind exploded with a deafening “buzz.”

He knew all too well how important grandmother was to Zhou Wan – she was her only remaining relative in this world, her last family member.

He didn’t know what Zhou Wan would be like after losing her grandmother, or what she might do.

He didn’t say another word, didn’t have time to say anything, just turned and sprinted down the stairs.

His raised coat tails caught the morning sunlight, fracturing the originally gentle scene.

*

Zhou Wan didn’t know how she’d gotten through these three days. She could barely feel herself alive, just moving mechanically, arranging her grandmother’s funeral matters. Neighbors came to help, and Zhou Wan thanked them one by one, forcing herself not to cry even once.

At night, she was alone in the room again.

The pitch-black night wrapped her in bone-chilling cold, drowning her.

She sat alone on the floor, leaning against the sofa, completely deflated.

She hadn’t changed clothes for three days, hadn’t washed her face, and had barely eaten anything. During the day she rushed about making arrangements, at night she just sat like this, unable to sleep, losing dozens of hours staring into space.

Until this day, when grandmother was cremated.

Everything was over.

On her way home, Zhou Wan passed by the market and bought some ribs and winter melon, thinking of making winter melon and rib soup.

She made a pot but only managed a few spoonfuls before losing her appetite. Zhou Wan sat back down by the sofa, having been awake for dozens of hours, her consciousness becoming fuzzy, not knowing if she was asleep or awake.

A strange smell permeated the air, like gas, but Zhou Wan had no strength to get up, so she closed her eyes and let it be.

She was just too tired, too exhausted to care about the smell spreading through the air or notice the urgent knocking at the door.

…

When Lu Xixiao kicked open the door, he immediately smelled the strong gas odor.

In that instant, a hundred thoughts flashed through his mind, but he couldn’t grasp any of them.

The room was pitch black, curtains were tightly drawn. Lu Xixiao had run from school, covered in sweat, breathing heavily, exhaling clouds of white breath in the cold winter air.

It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and then he saw Zhou Wan sitting on the floor, leaning against the sofa, seemingly asleep.

Lu Xixiao stumbled as he ran to her, regaining his balance awkwardly. He fell to his knees before Zhou Wan, cradling her face.

“Zhou Wan! Zhou Wan!”

No response.

Lu Xixiao frantically opened the windows and ran to the kitchen to shut off the gas.

Returning to Zhou Wan’s side, he grabbed a nearby bottle of mineral water, unscrewed it, and forced it into her mouth.

His hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

Suddenly, Zhou Wan choked, raising her hand to knock away the water bottle.

The bottle fell between them, the remaining water gurgling out, soaking her and wetting Lu Xixiao as well.

“Zhou Wan!” Lu Xixiao gripped her shoulders, staring into her eyes.

Zhou Wan opened her eyes hazily, seeing Lu Xixiao but showing no particular surprise. Her voice was hoarse beyond recognition: “Why are you here?”

“How could you…”

Lu Xixiao’s hands were shaking, his voice trembling, still in shock and fear from when he’d kicked open the door. He glared at Zhou Wan with red eyes, “How could you…!”

His breathing rose and fell violently, carrying an uncontrollable tremor.

Zhou Wan blinked slowly, coming to her senses, and said softly: “I wasn’t trying to kill myself.”

Lu Xixiao suppressed his anger in a low voice: “If I’d come any later, you would have died from gas poisoning.”

Zhou Wan was stunned for a moment, belatedly realizing the smell in her dream had been gas.

But she didn’t feel afraid in retrospect, even thinking that if it had happened that way, it might have been a relief.

“I just… had no strength to get up,” Zhou Wan said softly.

Lu Xixiao reached out to pull her arm. She was like cotton, completely without strength, limp as he lifted her onto the sofa.

Lu Xixiao finally got a clear look at Zhou Wan’s face.

Bloodshot eyes, dark circles reaching her chin, sunken cheeks, and disheveled hair.

In just a few days, she had become almost unrecognizable from weight loss.

Lu Xixiao had never seen Zhou Wan like this.

He frowned and walked over to turn on the light. Zhou Wan, who hadn’t seen daylight in so long, raised her hand to shield her eyes, watching through her fingers as Lu Xixiao went to the bathroom and came out with a wet towel.

His face was dark as he lifted Zhou Wan’s head without a word, wiping her face none too gently.

Zhou Wan didn’t even have the strength to raise her hand in refusal, so she let him.

After washing her face, Lu Xixiao went to pour a cup of hot water, forcing her to drink.

Zhou Wan didn’t even have the appetite for water, turning her face away in refusal. Lu Xixiao grabbed her face: “Drink it all.”

“No.”

He pressed down on Zhou Wan’s lower lip, forcing her mouth open: “Don’t make me force you.”

Knowing he would find a way to make her drink, Zhou Wan looked at him once, took the cup, and gulped it down in one breath while holding her breath.

Zhou Wan threw the empty cup aside, collapsing back onto the sofa, arm across her face, saying softly: “You should go.”

Lu Xixiao couldn’t stand seeing Zhou Wan like this.

Even though Zhou Wan had never been particularly sunny or positive before, she had never been defeated like this. She had always carried a gentle yet powerful strength.

Not like this.

She shouldn’t be like this.

“Zhou Wan.” Lu Xixiao frowned, calling her name, “Get up.”

“Why?”

“I’m taking you out to get some sun, you’re going moldy.”

“No, I’m tired.”

“Outside, you can sleep leaning on me.”

Zhou Wan turned her head toward the back of the sofa, her voice still soft, but still saying: “No.”

Lu Xixiao pulled at her arm trying to get her up, but Zhou Wan refused, struggling and resisting. Lu Xixiao used more force to pull her up directly.

Zhou Wan seemed to use her life’s only moment of rebellion at this instant, forcefully shaking off Lu Xixiao’s hand, and with this action, she lost balance and fell back onto the sofa.

She bounced slightly, hair covering her face.

Lu Xixiao’s face darkened, determined not to let Zhou Wan continue like this in this room: “Zhou Wan if you keep going like this, how can your grandmother rest in peace?”

Just as he grabbed her wrist, Zhou Wan violently shook him off, all her remaining vitality bursting forth at this moment.

She shouted in an almost tearing scream: “Then what can I do!”

Zhou Wan’s eyes were dry and blood-red, her features all showing signs of imminent collapse, heart-wrenching, “What can I do, I’m only 16!”

After that thunderous outburst, her voice gradually quieted.

That single cry had exhausted all her strength. Curled into a tiny ball on the sofa, she hugged her knees, buried her face, and made whimpers that were suppressed to the extreme.

Lu Xixiao’s heart felt like it was being shredded by countless needles.

“Lu Xixiao.” Zhou Wan suddenly called out, as light as a dying kitten.

His Adam’s apple bobbed: “Mm.”

Zhou Wan seemed to have finally broken through that point of tears. For the first time in these days, she finally cried.

Her breathing was chaotic and rapid, sobbing uncontrollably, her shoulders shaking, her fingers gripping her pants so tightly they turned white, trembling unstoppably.

“Lu Xixiao, I don’t have you anymore… and now I don’t have grandmother either.”

Her face was covered in tears, even her hair strands wet with tears, “I have nothing left… why, why is my life like this.”

Zhou Wan recalled the dream from that night.

Finally understanding what that absurd marathon in her dream meant.

It had a name, called life.

Everyone was running forward, Zhou Wan stopped and was shattered by the surging crowd, and then the earth and gravel burst forth, the road beneath her feet cracked and collapsed, and she fell into the abyss.

She cried brokenly, unable to form complete sentences.

Tears surged forth.

As if trying to shed all the tears she hadn’t cried these days at once.

Lu Xixiao knelt before her, holding her hand.

Suddenly, something hot and wet fell, landing on the back of her hand.

“Wan-wan.”

He hugged Zhou Wan, patting her back rhythmically, whispering in her ear, “I’m sorry, I was a jerk last time, treating you badly.”

…

“I’m sorry I haven’t been with you these days.”

…

Like someone who had traversed thousands of miles alone, trudging forward in solitude, finally finding a place to lean on.

Zhou Wan sobbed heartbrokenly in Lu Xixiao’s arms.

And Lu Xixiao told her again and again, tirelessly: “Wan-wan, I’m here, I’ll always be here.”

“At least, I’ll accompany you as you grow up, grow up together with you.”

No matter what happens in the future.

Just look back.

You’ll find I’ve always been by your side.