During the winter vacation of their second year, Lin Tao finally got her wish and brought Jiang Yan home for the New Year.

The festive atmosphere in Xicheng had not diminished with the passage of time. Great red lanterns hung at every corner of every street, glowing like beacons against the white expanse of snow.

After the New Year’s Eve dinner, after chatting over everyday things, Lin Yongcheng and Fang Yisong stayed home to work. Lin Tao and Jiang Yan headed out to meet a few old friends.

With the new year, everyone seemed to have grown a little — yet the youthful air of their earlier days hadn’t quite faded, and their smiles still held the purity and clarity of youth.

On New Year’s Eve, Hu Hanghang held his very first New Year’s countdown concert at Xicheng Sports Center. Six of the seven-member squad reunited and headed together to the sports center.

The singing was exhilarating, the crowd like a sea.

The six of them had seats in the SVIP section, directly facing the center of the stage. No outside aids were needed to see every move made up there.

Over the past six months, Hu Hanghang had been gradually shifting his style — from a lyrical idol singer toward a rock-leaning songwriter. Watching him now, it was clear the transformation had taken root.

Perhaps it was the ambiance of New Year’s Eve, but the atmosphere at the venue was electric.

Partway through the show, during the interactive segment, the director cut the camera feed to the audience. Two striking faces appeared on the large, bright screen.

The girl wore no makeup; she had Hu Hanghang’s fan stickers on her cheeks. When she saw herself on camera, there was a moment of pure blankness — and then, when it finally registered, she let out a cry and buried her face in the chest of the boy beside her.

The boy faced the camera directly. He was handsome, his smile indulgent, and the crowd erupted in screams.

By concert tradition, couples caught on camera were expected to share a kiss.

Hu Hanghang stirred the crowd online, waving his arm. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

The fans in the audience followed their idol’s lead. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Lin Tao, her face buried in Jiang Yan’s chest, listened to the commotion around her, cheeks flushed red, and muttered in a muffled voice, “After this, I am absolutely going to murder Hu Hanghang.”

“Murdering him can wait.” Jiang Yan leaned close to her ear, voice low. “Right now — give me some face and give me a kiss?”

“……”

Honestly speaking, over all their years together, Jiang Yan rarely made any overtly affectionate gestures toward her in public — at most, he’d hold her hand or pinch her cheek.

Lin Tao didn’t know how he had suddenly let himself go like this — and in front of tens of thousands of people, no less.

But when all was said and done, he was her own boyfriend. No matter how flustered Lin Tao felt, even in public she still wanted to maintain her boyfriend’s perfect image.

“Of course I can.”

The words had barely left her mouth when Lin Tao reached up, hooked her arm around Jiang Yan’s neck, and kissed him first. Every tender, gentle word was contained within that kiss.

Hu Hanghang cheered and hollered. The fans screamed in response. The atmosphere of the venue surged to a whole new level of heat.

Lin Tao held on to Jiang Yan’s neck, her smile radiant and captivating.

That same evening, Weibo’s trending page was wall-to-wall with posts about rising idol singer Hu Hanghang’s concert.

A fan posted a short video clip of Jiang Yan and Lin Tao’s kiss. The heat of it refused to die down and it quickly shot to the front of the trending page.

Weibo’s registered users numbered in the hundreds of millions, with people from all over the world — people of every background — among them. Naturally, some of them recognized Jiang Yan and Lin Tao.

Under that kiss video, one comment climbed its way to the top of the most-liked section.

— Durian Overlord: These two look exactly like that super famous couple from our school? (Location: Qing University — acceptance letter as proof)

Underneath that comment, a flood of replies turned the section into a large-scale schoolmate reunion.

— You’re not wrong!! It’s definitely them!!! — Oh my goodness!! What a divine couple!!

……

— A passerby humbly asking for context — who are these two? — Head to Qing University’s forum and search: High-Achievement CP

……

— Just went and looked, and I have only one thing to say: why did I come into this world [goodbye.jpg] — Alas, I am unworthy [lemon.jpg]

……

Neither Lin Tao nor Jiang Yan had expected Hu Hanghang’s popularity to have grown this large. One small kiss video, and his fans were able to push it to such heights of trending exposure.

A tall tree catches the wind — and the relentlessly rising popularity of Hu Hanghang naturally stirred resentment among rival camps. There were those working behind the scenes to commission articles to smear him.

This kiss video, for instance — it hadn’t even been on the trending list for half an hour before various marketing accounts began churning out a wave of pieces criticizing Hu Hanghang, accusing him of using his fans as a gimmick to stoke attention.

Having spent time in the entertainment industry, Hu Hanghang had grown accustomed to such things. He had initially intended to ignore these false stories and let the matter pass quietly — but the marketing accounts kept pushing further, eventually speculating that Lin Tao and Jiang Yan had signed with a talent agency and were planning to debut under the banner of a couple’s image.

Marketing accounts’ stories were always half-truth, half-fabrication. Nameless internet users couldn’t tell the difference and would simply follow along with the crowd.

Hu Hanghang, who normally paid no attention to such things, was furious this time. With Lin Tao and Jiang Yan’s consent, he posted on Weibo:

— Hu Hanghang V: Don’t any of you have a couple of friends who are in a relationship? [waving goodbye.jpg]

The image attached was a photo taken during their high school years — not a particularly formal shot. They were sixteen or seventeen in it, and every face carried the innocence of youth, tentative and beautiful.

The moment this photo went up, fans were quickly drawn to the chubby-cheeked younger Hu Hanghang in the image, and the center of discussion gradually shifted back to him.

The commotion rose, then faded.

Qing University’s winter break was short — only two weeks. The day before the holiday ended, Jiang Yan brought Lin Tao to pay their respects at Fang Hai’s grave.

The cemetery was on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by stands of green trees.

Fang Hai’s tombstone faced a building in the distance — the Xicheng Institute of Physics and Engineering, the dream Fang Hai had never had the chance to fulfill in his lifetime.

The winter sunlight was thin and pale, nothing like the intensity of summer.

Lin Tao looked at the photo of Fang Hai on the tombstone, and following Jiang Yan’s lead, knelt and bowed three times before the headstone. Then she took what Jiang Yan had been holding and used a white cloth to gently wipe away the dust that had settled on the photo.

Jiang Yan crouched to one side, reached into the bag, and took out the liquor Fang Hai had loved. He poured three full cups, and said with a smile, “Dad, I didn’t come to see you alone this year.”

“Don’t worry, I’m doing well.” Jiang Yan picked up one of the cups and poured the contents before the grave. “I’m currently working on a project under Professor Ji Nan — Professor Ji Hai’s son. Do you remember Professor Ji Nan? He told me you were once the best student in their laboratory.”

“Professor Ji Hai still remembers you.” Jiang Yan let out a quiet sigh. “What you did back then — giving up your physics research — he has actually long since stopped blaming you for it. Before the new year, he was even thinking of coming to visit you.”

“Dad.” Jiang Yan’s jaw moved. He raised a hand and wiped his face. His voice was slightly choked. “I wish you had never met them.”

As for Fang Hai’s student days, Jiang Yan had initially known only that his father had been an outstanding student. He had not known the full extent of what that meant.

It was only after he came to Qing University — through the frequent, heartfelt reminiscences of the two Professors Ji — that he came to understand what Fang Hai had once given up for Yu Fengyan.

If anything in this world could be weighed against the preciousness of life, then Fang Hai’s love surpassed even that.

……

When they came down from the cemetery, Jiang Yan’s emotions had not fully settled. Catching sight of Yu Fengyan and Jiang Suiyuan waiting at the foot of the hill, Lin Tao — afraid he might not be able to hold himself back — quietly reached out and grabbed his arm.

Jiang Yan noticed the gesture and looked down. “What are you doing?”

Lin Tao deliberately played dumb. “Nothing. The path is uneven — I’m holding on to you so I walk more steadily.”

“……”

Yu Fengyan and Jiang Suiyuan hadn’t seen Jiang Yan in two years. Running into him here now, they were a little at a loss for words.

Jiang Yan had always been opposed to Jiang Suiyuan coming to pay respects at Fang Hai’s grave, and Yu Fengyan understood this clearly. So for the past few years she had come alone.

But this year, she and Jiang Suiyuan had a new child of their own, and she had thought to come together. She hadn’t anticipated running into Jiang Yan.

The four of them stood facing one another for a moment. Jiang Yan was the first to look away. He stepped toward the stone path at the side. “Let’s go.”

Lin Tao followed him, hesitating. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

“No need.”

They hadn’t taken many steps when Yu Fengyan suddenly called out to stop them — not to Jiang Yan, but to Lin Tao. “Miss Lin, would it be all right if I spoke with you alone for a moment?”

Lin Tao paused. Jiang Yan was about to decline on her behalf when she stopped him. She turned to look at Yu Fengyan and gave a polite nod with a smile. “Madam Jiang, we still have things to attend to. Another time.”

Without waiting for Yu Fengyan to respond, she took Jiang Yan’s hand and walked away.

Once they were out of the cemetery, Lin Tao looked at Jiang Yan, who was silent, and hesitated. “Was what I just did… wrong?”

“No.” Jiang Yan smiled. “Whatever you do is right.”

“I know what I did was very impolite,” Lin Tao said, looking down. “But I just don’t like them. I hope I’ll never have to see them again for the rest of my life.”

In Lin Tao’s understanding, every negative emotion Jiang Yan carried had its origin in them. It was hard for her to muster any goodwill toward them.

Even if what they had done was supposedly for Jiang Yan’s own good — since Jiang Yan couldn’t accept that version of good, neither could she.

Jiang Yan knew what Lin Tao was thinking. He also knew she felt this way because of him. He let out a quiet sigh and, as if soothing a child, patted her on the head, lowering his voice to comfort her. “You’re a good person. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He drew his hand back and turned to glance at the two blurred figures in the distance, his tone carrying a trace of quiet finality. “From now on, we won’t be seeing them again.”

After the winter break ended, life at university grew even more demanding.

This semester, Jiang Yan temporarily stepped back from his training with the national team and focused entirely on working with Professor Ji Nan on his research project, building up practical experience.

Professor Ji Nan’s wife, Lu Xian, was the instructor for several of Lin Tao’s specialized courses. Because of her husband’s connection, she was well aware of Jiang Yan and Lin Tao’s relationship, and so she gave Lin Tao extra attention in general. Whenever there was an opportunity to observe a real case, she would bring Lin Tao along.

With both of them busy, their schedules frequently failed to align. At times, even though they were on the same campus, they lived more like a long-distance couple — going as long as ten days or half a month before finding a chance to meet.

In a blink, it was midsummer again.

At the end of the semester, Jiang Yan stayed at school to keep an eye on the progress of his research project. The Law Department didn’t have as many pressing matters, so after staying an extra half month, Lin Tao headed back to Xicheng on her own.

Before she left, Jiang Yan squeezed in time to have a meal with her.

Lin Tao looked at his face, which had grown noticeably thinner, and felt a pang of concern. “Is your laboratory not feeding you?”

“They are,” Jiang Yan said, piling two slices of meat into her bowl and remarking offhandedly, “I’ve probably just been staying up late a lot lately.”

What Jiang Yan didn’t dare tell her was that having irregular meals in the lab was perfectly normal — and that when they got really busy, sometimes they could manage only one breakfast all day.

These were the sorts of things that would invite a scolding. He was absolutely not going to say them out loud.

“Staying up late causes hair loss and baldness,” Lin Tao said, peering anxiously at his hairline. “I think I need to start stocking up on hair-growth tonic now.”

“……”