The fireworks Xu Sui gave Zhou Jingze at the arrival of the New Year suddenly made him feel that this boring, lonely New Year had become somewhat interesting—worth looking forward to.
With the New Year came Xu Sui’s first stroke of bad luck: while using the toilet, she accidentally dropped her phone in, completely destroying it.
Xu Sui didn’t dwell on this misfortune for long. Out with the old, in with the new. Besides, she had been having so much fun during the holiday that she hadn’t touched any of the homework her teachers assigned or studied any of the medical knowledge she was supposed to memorize. Without her phone, she could focus better on studying.
If she needed to contact anyone, she could use Grandma’s phone.
Once a person disconnects from the internet and social media, everything becomes twice as efficient. By the end of the day, Xu Sui found her study efficiency extremely high.
It was only at night, sitting at her desk, that Xu Sui’s mind would wander. Zhou Jingze’s unconscious murmur from that video call—those words “miss you”—remained stuck in her heart like a soft thorn.
Whenever she remembered it, her chest would feel tight and she couldn’t breathe properly.
If he had someone he liked, why was he so good to her? He would unconsciously give her warm milk, and though he rarely opened up, he could sing to her on her birthday, personally drive her to the high-speed rail station, and thoughtfully care for her cat. Or perhaps he was this good to every girl—a player who scattered his affections everywhere.
It was precisely because dissolute, flirtatious people did these things that they were so easy to fall for. Zhou Jingze’s kindness even made Xu Sui wonder if he might like her, even just a little bit.
But then he could casually say something that would send her straight to hell.
If that was the case, Xu Sui really wanted to ask him: could he please not be so good to her, giving her hope only to dash it?
She would rather stand far away and like him from a distance.
This thought constantly lingered in Xu Sui’s mind, and once it took root, it wouldn’t go away. Xu Sui couldn’t help wanting to ask Zhou Jingze about it. After hesitating for several days, she finally decided to ask.
Because Xu Sui felt like her feelings for him were becoming impossible to hide.
On the tenth day of the New Year, Xu Sui had been studying all day until her mouth was dry, yet the three characters “Zhou Jingze” kept inserting themselves among the pile of medical formulas.
At four in the afternoon, winter sunlight slanted down from a corner of the windowsill, with scattered spots of light falling on her desk. Since her phone was broken, Xu Sui had to use Grandma’s phone to message Zhou Jingze.
She was extremely nervous, her fingertips trembling slightly. After taking several deep breaths, she typed a long message on the phone, then deleted it all, feeling it was too melodramatic. In a moment of reckless abandon, she sent a simple text:
[Could you please not be so good to me?]
This time Zhou Jingze’s tone was gentler than she’d ever seen: [Isn’t it you who’s been good to me?]
When Xu Sui saw this message, her heart stopped. Did he know her feelings all along? She lowered her eyes and continued typing:
[Not really…]
Five minutes later, Zhou Jingze replied with indulgent tolerance: [Alright, I had someone buy that thing you wanted last time. Take care of yourself out there. It must be getting late where you are—rest early. Good night.]
Seeing this message, Xu Sui’s mind went blank and her consciousness became confused. She asked him directly: [What are you talking about? There’s no time difference here.]
Three minutes later, Xu Sui received his reply. Even through the screen, she could feel the coldness and impatience in his tone:
[Who is this?]
Zhou Jingze had never spoken to her in this tone before. Xu Sui was stunned by these two words and hurriedly explained:
[I’m Xu Sui. I remember telling you my phone got damaged a few days ago.]
It was her fault—she’d been so nervous that when using Grandma’s phone to message Zhou Jingze, she forgot to identify herself first. Just now, Zhou Jingze seemed to have mistaken her for someone else.
Zhou Jingze replied quickly, with hostility and coldness, suppressing obvious anger: [You’re not Saining? She’s been using her roommate’s phone to contact me lately, so you’re telling me I used the wrong tone on the wrong person?]
Every word Zhou Jingze wrote was full of impatience and underlying anger. Due to this mix-up—her messaging Zhou Jingze from an unknown number—he had thought Xu Sui was Saining, so he’d been responding to her with a gentle tone all along.
“Who is this?” “She.” “Wrong person.” Each phrase, along with that beautiful girl’s name “Saining” that rolled off his tongue, reminded her starkly:
His previous kindness to you was just politeness.
To him, you’re at most barely worthy of being ranked somewhere in the alphabet.
The fact is he doesn’t like you.
This text mix-up made Xu Sui feel ridiculous. She stared straight at the screen as her eyes began to sting, and a crystal tear fell onto the screen, immediately blurring her vision. She quickly wiped the water droplet from the screen with her finger and sent a text: [I’m sorry.]
As if protecting herself from further hurt, after sending the text, Xu Sui blocked Zhou Jingze’s phone number.
After the fifteenth, college students gradually returned to school. The day Xu Sui left Liying Town, Mom and Grandma stuffed her suitcase full of local specialties.
Xu Sui didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: “Mom, I can’t eat all of this.”
As she was about to remove some specialties from her suitcase, Mother Xu slapped her hand away and zipped it back up, her tone mock-scolding: “Who said it’s all for you to eat? Share some with your roommates so they’ll be nicer to my daughter.”
“My roommates are all wonderful, but thank you anyway, Mom!” Xu Sui said with a smile.
On the way to the high-speed rail station, Mother Xu’s conversation was the usual—telling her to take care of her health, eat on time, call if anything happened.
Standing at the entrance to the station, Xu Sui said seriously: “I have something to say right now.”
Mother Xu looked worried and grabbed her: “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Should we go to the hospital now? What’s the matter?”
“My ears have grown calluses,” Xu Sui said, taking her luggage.
“You child,” Mother Xu gently pinched her arm, then hesitated before speaking: “Yiyi, when you get back to school, remember to study hard. Remember Mom’s expectations of you. Your studies are most important right now—you can wait until after graduation to think about dating.”
Mother Xu had been holding these words in her heart for a long time. A mother knows her child best. Before New Year’s, Xu Sui had been excited and happy, constantly checking her phone, but now she seemed lost and often spaced out.
At this age, most troubles were related to feelings. Mother Xu had always been strict with her child—she still hoped Xu Sui would focus on her studies.
At the mention of dating, Xu Sui thought of a certain name, and her eyes instantly dimmed: “I understand, Mom.”
After returning to school, Xu Sui dragged her suitcase into the dorm. As soon as she opened the door, Liang Shuang was watering plants on the balcony, while Hu Qianxi wore her usual black-framed sunglasses, directing the male student helping with luggage.
Everything was so familiar.
“I’m back!” Xu Sui smiled as she entered.
“Baby, did you miss me?” Hu Qianxi took off her sunglasses and pounced on her.
“Mm—” Xu Sui’s soft voice drew out the sound, then changed tone: “Actually, not really.”
Hu Qianxi immediately tickled her underarms. Xu Sui laughed and dodged, and the two made a commotion.
After resting for half a day, they each went to their respective classes for evening self-study.
After receiving class schedules and new textbooks, Xu Sui discovered that the academic load for the second half of freshman year was noticeably heavier. Xu Sui secretly resolved to forget that person, determined to escape the spell of those three characters “Zhou Jingze.”
After the new semester began, Xu Sui kept herself extremely busy every day—either in class or hiding in the library or on the rooftop studying, keeping so busy that she had no time to think about him.
She still hadn’t bought a new phone. When she needed to contact someone, she would use her laptop to log into QQ. The class group used either QQ or email for announcements anyway.
Xu Sui didn’t know what she was avoiding. Sometimes when logging into QQ, she would see Zhou Jingze’s profile lit up, but always showing as busy—probably playing games.
Since she had secretly added his QQ in high school, his profile had been gray most of the time. Even on the rare occasions when it lit up, it was like how most of his life had nothing to do with her—the color that appeared in her world was only temporary.
She even suspected that Zhou Jingze didn’t even know she had secretly added him during high school. To him, she was just a stranger lying in his contact list.
Her roommates also noticed the change in Xu Sui’s state. Liang Shuang felt like Xu Sui made her seem particularly unproductive, and with the difficulty of memorizing material, she had no choice but to follow Xu Sui to the library every day and return to the dorm to study.
While sitting on her bed painting her nails, Liang Shuang remembered something and asked: “Suisui, in class today when the teacher called on people to recite the human tissue diagram, you were the only one who got it right. Memorizing is really hard for me, but you make it look so easy. Do you have any tricks you could teach me?”
“Sure, come down here,” Xu Sui said, sitting at her desk.
Liang Shuang immediately climbed down from her bed. Xu Sui sat in her chair, opened her textbook, pulled out a red marker from her pencil case, and said gently: “For example, looking at human anatomy, we can go through it once first, then use mind maps, breaking it down to bone landmarks, nerve pathways…”
As Liang Shuang listened, her mind wandered. From her angle, she could see Xu Sui’s fluffy long hair casually pinned up with a pencil, scattered strands sticking to her pale face, her lips like cherries—red and dewy.
“Liang Shuang, are you listening?” Xu Sui asked good-naturedly.
Liang Shuang snapped back to attention and immediately apologized: “Sorry, start over. I spaced out a tiny bit—you’re just too beautiful, Suibao.”
Xu Sui had to explain it all over again. When she got to vascular pathways, Hu Qianxi came in looking completely dejected. Liang Shuang casually asked: “What’s wrong?”
“Damn, Lu Wenbai is so hard to deal with. I told him I wanted to chase him.”
“Mm, and then?”
“He told me to dream on!” Hu Qianxi said angrily.
“Don’t be sad. Stinky men are nothing,” Liang Shuang comforted her.
“You’re right, thumbs up to you!”
Hu Qianxi’s emotions came and went quickly. She sat in her chair playing with her phone, then suddenly turned to Xu Sui: “Suisui, they said they’re going out to eat later. Are you coming? Zhou Jingze will be there too.”
Xu Sui was using her marker to take notes in her book. At these words, her elbow slipped, and the red marker made a long line across the human anatomy diagram, pointing straight to the heart organ illustration.
She lowered her eyes: “I won’t go. I have things to do tonight.”
Initially, Xu Sui could use such excuses to put off Hu Qianxi, but after a while, Hu Qianxi sensed something was wrong and asked: “What happened between you two? Did my uncle bully you? I’ll go beat him up.”
“No, we had a small misunderstanding. Don’t worry about it, Qianxi,” Xu Sui smiled, changing the subject. “This semester has a lot of coursework. I’m really busy—I’m thinking of switching to veterinary medicine.”
“Hey, we’re suffering too! Every day we’re catching stray cats on campus to treat them, and they run as soon as they see us,” Hu Qianxi complained.
“Speaking of stray cats, is 1017 still with my uncle?” Hu Qianxi asked.
Xu Sui nodded. Since the start of the semester, she hadn’t gone to Zhou Jingze’s to get 1017 back—after all, it had originally been his cat anyway.
She never participated in their activities again. The three characters “Zhou Jingze” were buried in some hidden corner of her heart. Xu Sui frequently went to the library and unexpectedly encountered Shi Yuejie multiple times. Through their interactions, they became familiar enough to have meals together at the cafeteria.
On Friday after class, Xu Sui suddenly craved the oden from the street stalls outside campus. Carrying her books, she hurried alone out of the school gates to buy food.
In mid-March, the spring wind was sharp. The only difference was that the willow trees outside campus had bloomed, and when the wind blew, willow catkins drifted everywhere, landing on shoulders.
Xu Sui got a takeout container of oden, and after paying, she turned around and inadvertently looked up to see Zhou Jingze standing in a crowd not far away. Xu Sui spotted him immediately.
Zhou Jingze wore a thin black jacket, his hair shorter now, close-cropped, making his features appear even darker and sharper. He held a cigarette between his lips, standing in the middle of the crowd, talking about something with someone, showing a casual and languid smile.
Wind blew past, and ash drifted down.
Sheng Nanzhou beside him obviously saw Xu Sui too and pushed Zhou Jingze’s shoulder. Zhou Jingze lowered his head as someone offered him a light, lighting another cigarette while cupping his hands to block the wind.
Crimson flames flickered up. His expression was lazy. Hearing something, he quickly raised his eyebrows, and after lighting his cigarette, he resumed chatting and laughing with others.
Throughout it all, he didn’t spare Xu Sui a single glance.
After nearly a month of not seeing him, Xu Sui felt that without her, his life hadn’t changed at all—he still shone brilliantly.
Xu Sui withdrew her gaze from him, lowered her eyes, and hurried toward the school gates carrying her oden. The wind blew directly at her, making her eyes sting and water.
Secret love is crossing mountains and rivers for you, while you pass by me countless times.
You are the scenery I never obtained.