Sensen felt like he had just fallen asleep when Qin Lie woke him up.

He didn’t panic or cry, silently put on his clothes, and followed Qin Lie out the door.

The small city in the early morning was as quiet as an unopened storybook.

All the gentle joys and sorrows of life were hidden behind the dark doors and windows.

His sadness scattered across all those lonely and fearful nights before sleep, winding into a long path of growing up.

The car drove through the quiet long street, Sensen stared blankly out the window at the pale, whitish moon hanging at the edge of the sky.

His loneliness seemed to merge into the vast universe, becoming an inextinguishable quest deep in his heart.

Sensen didn’t know how he walked into the hospital room. Grandma Fan’s whole family was there.

They looked at him with red-rimmed eyes, silently making room for him at the bedside.

Sensen lay against the bedside, looking at Grandpa, who had become somewhat unfamiliar overnight.

His eye sockets had sunken deeply, yet his gaze was so sharp and alert.

For a moment, a thread of unrealistic hope ignited in Sensen’s heart.

Grandpa could still pass through death’s gate one more time, and in a few days, he could be discharged and go home.

Grandpa would still sit under the shade of trees, fanning himself with a palm fan, listening to “Seven Heroes and Five Gallants” and “Heroes of Sui and Tang” on the radio.

Coming home from school in the afternoon, the small courtyard would always be filled with the aroma of cooking.

Sometimes it was noodles, sometimes it was porridge.

The pickled vegetables Grandpa made had a sweet taste that was impossible to stop eating once you started.

On summer evenings, after Grandpa finished bathing, the rich scent of medicinal soap would drift from the washroom.

Grandpa extended his hand from under the blanket, and Sensen quickly grasped his withered hand.

Grandpa looked at him, his gaze filled with reluctance, as if wanting to memorize his appearance in his soul and take it to another world.

Tears suddenly rolled down silently, and fear swept over him again.

Sensen cried, calling out to Grandpa.

Old Master Guan struggled to lift his hand and touched Sensen’s little head.

His chest wheezed, and he squeezed out a few words with difficulty from his throat: “Your father—”

One old, one young, separated by the fragile boundary between life and death like foam, wanting to keep each other forever in their minds.

Old Master Guan looked at Sensen with earnest eyes, using his last breath, wanting to say something to Sensen.

“Shuping—”

But all he could repeat was this name.

Sensen suddenly understood something and said through tears, “Grandpa, I don’t resent my father.”

He suddenly buried his head against Old Master Guan’s chest and said in a muffled voice: “Don’t worry.”

Grandpa, don’t worry. Sensen knew that Dad had his difficulties.

Sensen didn’t resent him or hate him, and when he got old, Sensen would take care of him.

Old Master Guan touched Sensen’s head and finally smiled gently.

He glanced at the empty doorway of the hospital room—he would never be able to wait for him.

It was better not to see him. In his memories, Shuping remained as he was when he was small.

Back then, he took Shuping to catch fish in the river. Shuping’s shoe fell into the river, and he jumped into the water to retrieve it.

Shuping wore a tank top, standing by the river smiling at him with two missing front teeth, his whole body tanned like a black loach.

How lovable little Shuping was back then.

He stared straight at the hospital room doorway, his gaze like a gradually extinguishing campfire.

This long life was also coming to an end.

Suddenly, Chen Xi’s voice calling softly with suppressed sadness reached his ears: “Grandpa Guan.”

Old Master Guan slowly looked toward Chen Xi, his gaze murky and dim, about to be extinguished but not quite yet.

Chen Xi’s tears suddenly burst forth like a broken dam, blurring her vision.

Old Master Guan summoned his remaining spirit, wanting to comfort Chen Xi somehow, but could no longer speak.

His gaze reluctantly swept over everyone present.

Sensen, his precious Sensen.

Chen Xi, the guardian of his difficult life’s late-coming fortune.

Qin Lie, such a good person, unrelated by blood or marriage, yet warmly accompanying him on his final journey.

Chen Hesheng, Liu Qing—in a flash, most of their lives had passed.

Fan Mingsu, Fan Mingsu, old Fan.

His throat moved with difficulty, struggling to squeeze out a thread of sound with his remaining life.

“Old Fan—”

“Mingsu—”

Fan Mingsu grinned, smiling with complete tranquility.

He leaned toward Old Master Guan and said, “Captain Guan, it’s time to go home. Your Qingqing made oil-splashed noodles, the favorite of us Shaanxi people. It smells so good.”

A faint smile appeared on Old Master Guan’s waxy, withered face.

His gaze was like sparks suddenly rekindling in ashes, bright for an instant, then gradually dimming until completely extinguished.

He took one last look at the hospital room doorway and slowly closed his eyes.

Grandpa Guan passed away. Uncle Shuping returned and took Sensen and Grandpa Guan’s ashes back to Shaanxi Xianyang.

Before leaving, Uncle Shuping asked Chen Xi to help with Sensen’s school transfer.

Chen Xi thought of what Grandpa Guan had said to her that morning before he passed away, and suppressed the thought of keeping Sensen with her.

After Chen Xi completed Sensen’s transfer procedures, Uncle Shuping returned with Sensen.

Uncle Shuping had too many matters to handle in Lanzhou and couldn’t stay long in Dunhuang.

As soon as he returned, he busied himself packing things and would take Sensen to Lanzhou the next day.

Fan Mingsu and Chen Xi came to help pack. The three of them worked inside and out for the entire day.

For lunch, Chen Xi ordered takeout. Fan Mingsu and Uncle Shuping ate inside the house while Chen Xi and Sensen sat in the courtyard to eat.

After Chen Xi took two bites of her fish-flavored shredded pork rice bowl, she pulled out a phone from her pocket and handed it to Sensen.

This was the phone she had bought for Sensen yesterday.

“Take this.”

Sensen hesitantly accepted the phone, looked down at the brand-new screen, then looked up at Chen Xi with some surprise.

Chen Xi: “This phone number is my secondary number. Don’t worry about the phone bill. The contacts include Grandma’s, mine, and Qin Lie’s phone numbers.”

“I also applied for WeChat for you. You can change the name yourself. The WeChat contacts also include the three of us.”

Sensen was stunned for a moment, then suddenly pushed the phone back to Chen Xi.

“I don’t want it.”

Chen Xi pinched Sensen’s ear and turned his little face toward her.

“Keep the phone. It’s convenient for me to check whether you’re studying hard.”

Sensen’s thick eyelashes drooped for a moment, then lifted again as he looked at Chen Xi with disdain.

“How will you check? Your math might not even be as good as mine now.”

Chen Xi: “Hey, you little rascal.”

She pretended to pinch Sensen’s cheeks. Sensen grabbed his lunchbox and jumped away, running somewhere else to eat.

Chen Xi watched Sensen’s lively, bouncing figure and smiled gently.

She had been afraid that Sensen wouldn’t be able to accept leaving this place. Fortunately, children’s sadness comes quickly and goes quickly, too.

At dusk, Sensen sat in Grandpa’s reclining chair, watching the fire-like sunset clouds at the edge of the sky.

In the neighboring courtyard, his father was saying words of gratitude to Grandma Fan.

He had gone through the day as if nothing had happened, eating when he should eat, laughing when he should laugh.

Only now, when there was no one else in the courtyard, did his expression become numb.

After waiting for five years, his father was finally going to take him away, yet Sensen felt surprisingly calm.

Five years ago, for a while, Sensen would sit at the courtyard gate every evening waiting for his father.

Because his father had said on the phone that he would come get him and Grandpa to go to Lanzhou soon.

In Lanzhou, they would live in a high-rise building.

There would be heating in winter and air conditioning in summer. He wouldn’t have to run to the courtyard to use the bathroom in the middle of the night.

In Lanzhou, there was also a cute little sister who would call him big brother.

Sensen waited and waited with eager anticipation, from kindergarten until elementary school, from first grade until third grade.

He waited until he finally stopped waiting, and only then did his father come.

But Sensen no longer wanted to leave.

He didn’t want to leave Dunhuang or Grandpa’s small courtyard.

The washroom still held the scent accumulated from years of medicinal soap.

On the small table sat Grandpa’s old radio.

Grandpa’s presence was everywhere here. Sensen felt as if he hadn’t left yet.

There were also Grandma Fan next door and Sister Chen Xi—they were his real family, family connected by bonds that couldn’t be broken even if bones were shattered.

When he was most loneliest and helpless, they had given him countless moments of warmth.

But thinking of Grandpa’s gaze looking at him before he died, Sensen silently hid his reluctance in his heart.

Although Grandpa never said anything, Sensen knew that what Grandpa most wanted to see in his lifetime was the reunion of flesh and blood.

On September 3rd, the early morning Lanzhou train station was bustling with people coming and going.

Qin Lie and Chen Xi bought platform tickets and escorted Sensen and Uncle Shuping to the train.

Afraid that Sensen would be mistreated, Chen Xi bought a whole suitcase full of clothes and sneakers.

The train was about to depart. Chen Xi cupped Sensen’s face in her hands.

She wanted to say something, glanced at Uncle Shuping behind Sensen, and finally just smiled.

She said softly, “I’ll come visit you when I have time.”

Sensen nodded, holding back tears, and looked at Qin Lie beside Chen Xi.

Qin Lie reached out and patted his shoulder, saying quietly: “Time to go.”

Sensen watched the two people walk through the long train car until their figures disappeared.

“Brother Qin Lie—”

Sensen suddenly called out toward the train door.

Chen Xi had already gotten off the train. Qin Lie heard the call and stopped, turning back to look.

The next second, the young boy had already run to him and hugged his waist tightly.

Qin Lie’s body swayed. He looked down, somewhat moved, and raised his hand to touch Sensen’s head.

Chen Xi stood below the train, watching the two people on the train, and finally couldn’t hold back her tears as they streamed down her face.

Sensen looked up, his eyes red, and asked quietly: “Brother Qin Lie, are you going back to Beijing?”

Qin Lie was stunned by the question. He hadn’t expected a child to have such keen observation.

He looked at Sensen, momentarily speechless.

Sensen looked up at him and asked carefully: “Are you going to break up with Sister Chen Xi, just like Brother Yuning did?”

Qin Lie lowered his gaze, and the two looked at each other.

After a long while, he bent down and whispered something in the boy’s ear.

Tears suddenly welled up in Sensen’s eyes, but a big smile bloomed at the corners of his mouth.

He buried his face against Qin Lie’s waist and breathed in his scent once more.

In his young life, his father’s scent brought him strangeness and disappointment; his grandfather’s scent brought him warmth and despair.

Only Qin Lie, only this one person, brought him a scent full of hope, one that made him feel secure and at peace.

The train slowly started moving. Chen Xi and Qin Lie stood side by side on the platform, watching Sensen’s small figure pressed against the train window, growing more distant until he disappeared.

With a slight nasal tone, Chen Xi asked Qin Lie beside her: “What did you two just say?”

Qin Lie took Chen Xi’s hand and slowly walked toward the exit.

The platform was empty, with golden sunlight scattered on the ground beneath their feet.

Qin Lie was about to say something to Chen Xi when his phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the caller ID—it was Wang Danyang calling.

Qin Lie hesitated for a moment and didn’t answer.

The two walked in silence for a while when Chen Xi suddenly looked at Qin Lie and asked with a smile: “When are you leaving?”

Qin Lie was stunned. He stopped walking and looked down at Chen Xi, remaining silent for a long time.

The wind whistled in their ears.

Chen Xi smiled gently and reached up to touch Qin Lie’s angular face.

“You are leaving, aren’t you? The things you need to do are in Beijing, not here.”

The two looked at each other without speaking. Qin Lie’s dark eyes gradually took on a faint look of difficulty.

Having lived to this age, through various storms in the business world and life, he had experienced quite a few ups and downs.

When facing choices, he had never been as torn as he was now.

He had never imagined that one day he, too, would become someone who couldn’t let go or move on.

“I’m not leaving.”

He finally spoke quietly and took Chen Xi’s hand to move forward.

Chen Xi stood in place and pulled Qin Lie back.

“Do you know?”

She looked at Qin Lie, her gaze clear.

“That day in front of the Nine-Storey Tower, you told me you wanted to make the Mogao Caves into a unique digital treasure.”

Qin Lie stopped and turned back to look at Chen Xi.

Chen Xi: “Do you know how I felt at that moment?”

Qin Lie: “How did you feel?”

Chen Xi: “I felt like you were glowing all over. Having known you for so long, only in that instant did I see you truly happy.”

Chen Xi looked at Qin Lie’s slightly moved expression, smiled, and continued: “Do you know? In that instant, I was glowing all over, too, because you let me see hope.”

Qin Lie: “Hope?”

Chen Xi nodded. “Yes, hope.”

Under the golden sunlight, Chen Xi’s slender eyelashes fluttered gently, her clear eyes filled with open and honest affection for him, undisguised admiration.

“Ordinary people aren’t without dreams, but life is too difficult. They need to eat their fill, stay warm, support their families, and treat illnesses.”

“Having a moment to breathe, smoking a cigarette, slacking off to kill some time—these are rare pleasures.”

Chen Xi looked toward a cleaning worker not far away on the platform who was dragging a cloth bag and picking up trash.

In a moment of distraction, she seemed to see what the man looked like as a young boy.

He was running in the sunlight, exhilarated and dripping with sweat, his youthful spirit soaring to the clouds.

Chen Xi also thought of Section Chief Ma, Beard Zhang, and Ma Lao Liu—they had all been young once.

And Yang Shan, Han Susu, Chen Xi herself—

Young people dream of flying to the sky, dream of sailing far away, and dream of their names echoing throughout the world.

But life gradually makes these dreams seem like another lifetime. Most people eventually become ordinary people who are all the same.

Dreams become earning a little more, work that isn’t tiring, more obedient children, and the elderly who don’t get sick.

But who is truly content with this?

Those superhero movies, those war gods who dominate virtual worlds, those powerful operatic songs at dusk—aren’t these the unfulfilled dreams of youth?

She smiled. “But you’re different. You can create a world.”

Qin Lie’s eyes flickered, and he couldn’t help but touch Chen Xi’s cheek.

Chen Xi: “The people around you will also live with hope, as if they’re starring in an epic movie. Even if they’re just extras, this role is enough to illuminate an ordinary, unremarkable life.”

“So, Qin Lie—”

Chen Xi looked at him, her gaze sincere.

“I want to see you turn the Mogao Caves into a digital treasure.”