Lin Tao’s birthday fell on the fifteenth of August.
That morning, Fang Yisong personally went to the kitchen to cook her a bowl of longevity noodles, and only after watching her finish eating did he head out to the office.
Before leaving, Fang Yisong also handed Lin Tao a bank card. “It’s your birthday today — buy whatever you want, and remember to come home for dinner tonight.”
Had it not been for Lin Tao’s prior arrangement with Jiang Yan to spend the daytime together celebrating her birthday, Fang Yisong would not have planned to go to the office at all today.
“I know, I’ll be back early.” Lin Tao took the card, clutched it in her hand, stepped forward and hugged Fang Yisong, acting spoiled just like when she was little. “Mom, thank you.”
A sudden wave of warmth washed through Fang Yisong’s heart. She raised her hand and stroked Lin Tao’s head, sighing softly. “In the blink of an eye, you’ve grown this tall.”
Fang Yisong had lived a smooth and fortunate life — a loving marriage, a harmonious family, and no great wrongs done. The one thing she regretted, the one thing that still left her with a sense of sorrow, was having missed Lin Tao’s childhood.
That was a stretch of time no amount of money could ever buy back.
Not long after Fang Yisong left, Lin Tao received a call from Jiang Yan.
“Are you ready?” Jiang Yan was standing beneath the shade of a tree, looking up at the tall building before him, his voice gentle. “I’m downstairs.”
Lin Tao let out a sound of acknowledgment and hurried to the balcony to look down below.
Eighteen stories up — not especially high, but looking down, she could still make out everything below with perfect clarity.
The young man was standing right there. The moment their gazes met across the distance, he smiled up at her.
The summer wind drifted past, humid and warm, and the person below was always the one who held her heart.
Even before Jiang Yan arrived, Lin Tao had almost finished getting ready. After hanging up the phone, she slipped on her shoes and headed downstairs.
Whether by coincidence or not, the two of them were dressed remarkably alike today — both in white T-shirts and jeans, except Lin Tao’s were denim shorts.
Two slender, fair legs were exposed to the open air.
As they walked toward the entrance of the residential complex to hail a taxi, Jiang Yan’s gaze drifted over without thinking. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He seemed on the verge of saying something, but then, remembering that today was her birthday, he quietly swallowed the words back down.
Lin Tao was being led by the hand, her fingers unconsciously scratching at the back of his hand. “Where are we going?”
A car came from behind them, and Jiang Yan tugged her to the side. They waited for the vehicle to pass before he spoke. “Guess.”
“……”
Lin Tao was genuinely curious about where he intended to take her, but no matter how she asked, Jiang Yan maintained his air of mystery. “You’ll know when we get there.”
Once they were in the car, Lin Tao took out her phone and started replying to birthday wishes from friends and classmates who had messaged her. “Did you have breakfast this morning?”
“Hm?” Jiang Yan lowered his head, looking at his phone. “I did.”
“What did you have?”
“Dumplings,” Jiang Yan said.
“And where are you taking me?”
“……”
The topic shifted without warning, but fortunately Jiang Yan’s reflexes were quick. He shot her a sideways glance and said nothing.
Lin Tao realized she wasn’t going to get anything out of him, so she gave up and turned her gaze to the scenery flashing past the window.
But as she watched, she gradually began to sense something wasn’t quite right.
This road had undergone many changes thanks to the city’s ongoing renovation and redevelopment, but she had walked it for over a decade. No matter how much it changed, she could still recognize it.
“This is…” Lin Tao looked at Jiang Yan. “The road to my old middle school?”
Before Jiang Yan could answer, the car pulled up in front of the school gates, answering the question for him.
Lin Tao had guessed correctly.
The place Jiang Yan had brought her was exactly where she had once studied.
Lin Tao had always been academically strong as a child and had never changed schools throughout her education, attending the affiliated institutions of the Teachers’ University all the way from kindergarten through middle school.
It was only when she graduated from middle school and the time came to enroll in high school that Meng Xin, due to a house move, transferred to School No. 10 — and it was then that Lin Tao asked Fang Yisong to transfer her as well.
All of the Teachers’ University’s affiliated schools below the university itself were located in the same area. Apart from the affiliated kindergarten, which had been closed down in recent years, the primary school, middle school, and high school had all remained largely unchanged.
Lin Tao had not expected Jiang Yan to bring her here. Looking at the familiar bricks and tiles before her, it would have been dishonest to say she wasn’t moved.
Jiang Yan stood beside her. “I hadn’t realized you went to the same school from kindergarten all the way through middle school.”
“I did.” Lin Tao held his hand as they crossed the road. “I was a good student back then. If I hadn’t gone to School No. 10, I probably would have just continued here and been directly admitted to the university.”
When Lin Tao had wanted to transfer, the teachers at the affiliated school had actually tried to persuade her to stay. But her mind was made up, and in the end she transferred to School No. 10.
Since it was summer break, the school’s security was lax. As luck would have it, the guard on duty today still remembered Lin Tao, and without even asking them to sign in, he let them straight through.
Once inside the campus, Lin Tao gazed at the eight-character school motto etched onto the front of the political education building, directly facing the main gate. An embarrassing memory from her middle school days surfaced in her mind, and she laughed as she recounted it. “When I was in middle school — rebellious phase — Meng Xin and I snuck over the wall to go play, and a teacher caught us in the act. As punishment, we had to copy that school motto five thousand times.”
Jiang Yan let out a soft laugh. “Hard to imagine — you being that rebellious.”
“Everyone has their youth.” Lin Tao looked at him. “Though I seem to recall you were far more rebellious than me back in middle school.”
“……”
On the question of who had been more rebellious in middle school, Jiang Yan had nothing to add. Compared to what his own middle school years had looked like, Lin Tao sneaking over a wall to go play was barely worth mentioning.
“But thinking back,” Lin Tao said, reflecting on her past, “I’m really glad I ran into Meng Xin here. If it hadn’t been for her, I never would have gone to School No. 10.”
Without School No. 10, Lin Tao might have simply followed the expected path — finished high school here, received a direct university admission, and then gone on to graduate studies or stayed to teach at the Teachers’ University.
Then quietly lived out the rest of her life.
Thinking that, Lin Tao turned to look at Jiang Yan, her voice slowing to a deliberate pace. “If I hadn’t gone to School No. 10, I might never have met you.”
“Then I’m very lucky.” Jiang Yan’s throat moved gently as he swallowed. His gaze was soft and warm as he looked at her. “That you came.”
You came into my world.
And then.
We had a story.
And a future that came in the midst of endless anticipation.
Lin Tao took Jiang Yan on a walk around every corner of the campus, and at last Jiang Yan suggested he wanted to see her old classroom.
“My old classroom?” Lin Tao looked at the reddish-brick building before her. “My classroom was different every year — do you want to see all of them?”
“Let’s see them all.” Jiang Yan glanced at his watch. “There’s still plenty of time.”
They had stopped in front of the middle school teaching block. Lin Tao pointed at the building ahead of them. “Let’s start with middle school then.”
“Let’s start with primary school,” Jiang Yan said.
“Does it matter?” Lin Tao looked at him, puzzled. “We’re going to see them all anyway, aren’t we?”
“I want to see the path of your growing up.” Jiang Yan reached out and pinched her cheek lightly. “Are you saying you grew up backwards?”
“……”
Lin Tao couldn’t understand why he was so insistent on starting from the primary school — the primary school teaching area was in the complete opposite direction from the middle school’s, which meant going all the way there and then having to come back. But no matter what she said, Jiang Yan held firm. She found it a little funny. “So if the kindergarten hadn’t been demolished, would you have wanted to start from there too?”
“Yes.” Jiang Yan said with complete seriousness. “That is exactly what I had in mind.”
“Then why not start from the hospital where I was born and trace my entire life’s path while you’re at it?”
At that, Jiang Yan looked at her, one eyebrow arching slightly, his expression perfectly composed. “I asked. Meng Xin didn’t know which hospital you were born at.”
“……”
Lin Tao was thoroughly won over by this logic of his, and had no choice but to take him to the primary school teaching block.
After all these years, the school buildings were mostly unchanged, save for a fresh coat of paint.
Lin Tao navigated to her former classroom without any difficulty.
The two of them stood in the doorway. She pointed to a corner inside. “This was first grade. I was always taller than my classmates, even as a little kid, so I always sat in the back row.”
Jiang Yan followed the direction she was pointing. “Don’t you want to go in and have a look?”
“It’s summer break — the door’s probably locked.” Lin Tao said as she casually pressed down on the door handle.
A click.
The door swung open.
She was a little surprised. “Do children these days not have to lock the classroom when they leave for the holidays? I remember in my day, if you left without locking up, you’d come back to a punishment.”
Jiang Yan made no particular comment and followed her inside.
With school out for summer, the classroom had been cleared of all furniture — not a desk or chair remained.
Lin Tao quickly found the spot where she used to sit.
“It feels like time went by so fast.” The desks were made for primary school children, and when Lin Tao sat down, her limbs had nowhere comfortable to go.
She looked around, left and right, then bent down to check the drawer beneath the desk and found a stack of envelopes inside.
Lin Tao paused, then reached in and took them out.
There were seven letters in the drawer in total. The envelopes all looked the same — only the words written on each one were different.
The one sitting on top read:
For Lin Tao at age one.
She flipped through them one by one and found that each carried the same kind of message:
For Lin Tao at age two.
For Lin Tao at age three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
All the way to the last one — age seven.
Lin Tao suddenly understood.
She understood why Jiang Yan had brought her here today, and why he had been so insistent on starting from her primary school years.
It wasn’t only to learn the path of her growing up. It was also to make up for all the birthdays in the years before they had ever met.
Thinking this, Lin Tao looked up at the young man standing not far away, as though something had just occurred to her. She rose from the seat and moved on to the next classroom.
Jiang Yan followed quietly behind her the whole time.
That morning, Lin Tao found fifteen letters scattered throughout the middle school she had once attended — one for each year of her life, from age one to age fifteen.
Afterward, Jiang Yan took her to School No. 10.
There, Lin Tao found the letter for her sixteenth birthday.
And then the two of them went to the classroom of Class 18.
On the blackboard at the front, written in colored chalk, were four characters:
Happy Birthday.
Lin Tao held the thick bundle of letters in her hands, taking in everything before her, her heart filled to the brim with emotions she couldn’t quite name. Her eyes had gone red.
She walked to her seat and found the very last letter waiting there.
This time, the words written on the envelope were different from all the ones before it.
“This world should not have made me this happy — but you came. If you ever find the world too bitter, come and take shelter in my arms.”
The signature was in the lower right corner:
Hello, Lin Tao at seventeen. I am Jiang Yan at nineteen — and I am your boyfriend.
The summer sun blazed bright and warm. The cicadas sang without end.
After she had found all the letters, Lin Tao sat in the classroom. The sunlight outside streamed in through the windows in brilliant shafts, and she bowed her head and read through every single letter, carefully and unhurriedly.
From age one to age seventeen.
None of the letters were very long, but every one of them had been written by Jiang Yan’s own hand — every word, every punctuation mark a hidden piece of quiet joy.
In the letter for Lin Tao at sixteen, Jiang Yan had written:
“If I had known that my nineteen-year-old self would like you this much, I definitely would have bought you a bottle of cola the first time I ever saw you.”
“And then I would have told you: Lin Tao, I like you.”
Lin Tao couldn’t help laughing. She held the letter and looked up at the young man before her. “Buying me a bottle of cola — what kind of move is that?”
Jiang Yan rubbed the tip of his nose and looked down. “Don’t you like cola?”
Back then we didn’t know each other. If I had given you something you liked, maybe you would have looked at me a little longer.
But Lin Tao, ever straightforward, had missed the deeper meaning in his words entirely, and proceeded to completely shatter the mood with her response: “The thing is, my tooth was hurting back then, and I’d sworn off cola. If you’d really bought me one, I might not have even taken it.”
“……”
Lin Tao had just finished reading the letter for her sixteenth birthday and was about to open the last one when Jiang Yan reached out and pressed down on her arm. “Read this one when you get home.”
“Hm?” Lin Tao looked at him, her eyes bright. Without asking for a reason, she simply said, “Alright.”
Jiang Yan let go of her arm and glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Let’s go — Hu Hanghang and the others are probably already at the restaurant.”
Jiang Yan had originally planned to celebrate Lin Tao’s birthday alone with her. It was, after all, the first birthday since they’d gotten together, and it deserved a certain amount of ceremony.
What he hadn’t anticipated was that Hu Hanghang, Xu Yichuan, and the others had found out about Lin Tao’s birthday through Meng Xin and absolutely insisted on joining.
Jiang Yan had been reluctant to agree at first, but Hu Hanghang wore him down with persistent pleading until he finally relented.
Later, Lin Tao found out about the arrangement too, and had asked Fang Yisong to book a room at a hotel they frequented, planning to have everyone over for lunch.
By now they had been out all morning, and it was nearly time to eat.
Once Lin Tao and Jiang Yan left School No. 10 and got into a car at the school gate, Hu Hanghang and the others had already posted their location in the group chat:
Hu Hanghang: We’re already here! Everyone drop your location~
Meng Xin: On the way, be there in ten minutes~
Song Yuan: Sitting next to you~
Xu Yichuan: Sitting next to Song Yuan~
Guan Che: ……
Guan Che: I’ll be a bit late, something came up~
Hu Hanghang: Where are Jiang Yan and Lin Tao? How far are you?~
Lin Tao: Just got in the car, might be a while~
Xu Yichuan: It’s fine! Today is your birthday, Lin Tao, you’re the most important person — whenever you arrive is perfect [Happy Birthday.jpg]
Right after that, Hu Hanghang and the others flooded the chat with birthday sticker after birthday sticker — the old-fashioned, garish kind.
A box of vivid red roses paired with text in flashing multicolored fonts — the kind that looked like it belonged to a completely different era of internet culture.
When Lin Tao opened the messages, she nearly had her eyes seared out by the dazzling typography.
Lin Tao: ……
Lin Tao: If you didn’t know better, you’d think I’d stumbled into some middle-aged auntie group chat.
After replying, Lin Tao held her phone up in front of Jiang Yan. “Look — why are all the stickers Pangpang and the others use so…”
Lin Tao couldn’t find the word for it. She pressed her lips together, her expression a portrait of speechless resignation.
“Perfectly normal,” Jiang Yan said, looking at her with a smile. “Pangpang and Song Yuan were dragged into a WeChat group by a teammate while playing games one day. They thought it was some kind of gaming squad group, so they joined — only to discover it was a retirees’ sunset years group. The group was full of these stickers every day, and those two spent an entire summer vacation soaking it in. They’ve amassed quite a collection.”
“……” Lin Tao was completely incredulous. “I could maybe believe Pangpang spending a whole summer vacation in a group like that — but Song Yuan too?”
“What did you expect?” Inside the car, the gap between the front and back seats was fairly narrow, so Jiang Yan sat with his legs bent, his back resting against the seat. “Song Yuan is actually the most unpredictable one of the lot.”
And besides, when Song Yuan was young, he and Jiang Yan had run in the same circles.
That part Jiang Yan kept to himself — there was such a thing as maintaining some dignity in front of one’s girlfriend.
The car’s air conditioning was running, but the summer heat had made the enclosed space feel a little stuffy and stale. Lin Tao felt slightly drowsy and a touch of a headache coming on.
She reached over and lowered the window a crack. The warm but clean outside air rushed in, sweeping away the unpleasant smell trapped inside.
On the way to lunch, they passed by the affiliated school.
Lin Tao spotted the school emblem gleaming in the sunlight and looked back at Jiang Yan. “By the way — how did you get the keys to the affiliated school? You weren’t a student there, so getting access to the keys — especially for that many classrooms — shouldn’t have been easy.”
“I let myself in,” Jiang Yan said, looking completely sincere. “A piece of wire, a bit of fiddling, and the locks opened.”
“……”
Seriously?
Lin Tao stared at him in astonishment at his matter-of-fact attitude, eyeing him with deep suspicion. “Jiang Yan, are you in your right mind?”
Jiang Yan lifted his gaze calmly. “Of course. Completely.”
Even the driver in the front seat, who had been quietly driving the whole time, couldn’t help glancing at Jiang Yan in the rearview mirror — with the kind of look one reserves for a dangerous fugitive who has committed unspeakable crimes.
Lin Tao noticed the driver’s expression and couldn’t help jabbing Jiang Yan’s leg with her knee. “Can you try being normal for once?”
Jiang Yan tilted his head and let out a low laugh, shoulders shaking with it. “Alright, alright — I was joking. The door was opened by the security guard.”
“That’s hard to believe — you weren’t a student there. He just agreed to let you in?” Lin Tao still wasn’t entirely convinced. “What did you even say to him?”
Jiang Yan started by laughing, and once he had laughed enough, he cleared his throat and said in a perfectly even tone, “I told him the school had bad feng shui, and I had come specifically to drive away the evil spirits.”
“……?”
After hearing his explanation, Lin Tao clearly felt the car lurch. She stared at Jiang Yan in disbelief and repeated herself for the third time: “I’m asking you, kindly, to please try being normal. Is that too much?”
The amusement in Jiang Yan’s eyes deepened. The brackets of his smile became more pronounced.
Lin Tao found his expression infuriating. She gave up trying to figure out how he had really gotten the keys, and the lingering warmth she had felt earlier quietly dissipated without a trace.
Jiang Yan finally sensed the gravity of the situation. He leaned sideways toward her and lowered his voice to explain: “Guan Che’s uncle is the head of discipline at the affiliated school. I got the keys from him.”
Lin Tao nodded, looking at him with a perfectly blank expression. “Why not just say his uncle is the principal?”
“……” Jiang Yan turned his head and leaned back slightly. “Barring any unexpected developments, his uncle is actually set to be promoted to principal next year.”
Lin Tao: “?”
In the space of half an hour, Jiang Yan came to deeply appreciate the meaning of expressions such as “digging one’s own grave,” “bringing trouble upon oneself,” “getting what one deserves,” and a whole series of other such sayings describing self-inflicted misfortune.
From the moment he mentioned Guan Che’s uncle onward, Lin Tao did not exchange another word with him. She even launched a flurry of kicks and jabs at him once they got out of the car.
“Alright, alright.” Jiang Yan suppressed his laughter and caught Lin Tao’s hand as it swung toward him. “It’s your birthday today — cheer up.”
“Get lost.”
The tone was thoroughly cold.
Jiang Yan looked at her puffed-up, indignant expression, tried to hold it in, and failed — laughter broke free, his shoulders shaking with each silent heave.
“……”
Lin Tao was truly at a loss for words.
This person always managed to find a thousand different ways to make her want to commit violence.
Lin Tao already had a fire smoldering inside her, and the summer heat — stifling and thick — wasn’t helping. The irritation refused to be suppressed. She raised her hand and swung it.
She had intended to slap his arm, but as luck would have it, Jiang Yan chose that exact moment to lean in, and she couldn’t pull back in time.
Smack! — Her palm landed squarely on his face.
Lin Tao: “……”
Jiang Yan: “……”
Lin Tao froze, the fire in her chest extinguished entirely. She looked at Jiang Yan, who wore an equally stunned expression — and couldn’t hold back a burst of laughter. “For the record — that was an accident. You leaned into it yourself.”
When the palm had landed, Jiang Yan had been genuinely caught off guard. The sting on his cheek was very much present and accounted for.
He straightened up, pressed his tongue against the inside of the cheek that had been struck, as though he were only now processing what had happened, and spoke at last in a slow, measured voice: “Quite a swing, girlfriend.”
“……” Lin Tao couldn’t help laughing. She reached up and pressed her palm gently to his cheek. “Does it hurt?”
She hadn’t used that much force, in truth — but Jiang Yan’s skin was naturally fair, and the skin on his face was softer and thinner than elsewhere.
Even from that one slap, a few very faint lines had appeared, flushed red — stark against the pale, refined lines of his face.
Lin Tao touched the area a few times, then drew her hand back and stared at it, feeling genuinely guilty. “I’m sorry — I really didn’t mean to. I was aiming for your arm.”
Jiang Yan moved his jaw experimentally. It didn’t hurt much. “It’s fine. Taking one slap in exchange for you calming down — that’s a fair trade.”
Lin Tao, now cooled off, still felt that she was in the wrong. Once they were inside the hotel’s private dining room, she asked a server for some ice.
Jiang Yan would rather have skipped the fuss, but seeing Lin Tao’s guilty expression, he had no choice but to let her do as she pleased.
“It really doesn’t hurt.” Jiang Yan held her by the wrist. “Don’t feel bad — it’s your birthday today. I want everything today to be happy for you.”
After the ice application, the faint marks on Jiang Yan’s face had faded considerably.
Lin Tao let out a breath of relief and set the ice aside. “I wasn’t unhappy.”
“Good.”
Inside the private room, Hu Hanghang, Xu Yichuan, and Song Yuan had arrived early and were huddled in a corner of the sofa deep in a game. They hadn’t noticed Lin Tao and Jiang Yan come in, and hadn’t spotted the marks on Jiang Yan’s face either.
Once everyone had arrived and they settled in to eat, Song Yuan, who was seated next to Jiang Yan, noticed the marks on his face with a sharp eye and leaned in for a closer look. “What happened to your face…”
He didn’t finish the sentence — then it hit him. “Holy — did someone hit you, Jiang Yan?”
Lin Tao: “……”
Jiang Yan: “……”
“Someone hit you??” Hu Hanghang also got up and came over to examine Jiang Yan’s face. “Damn! Someone really did hit you — who was it, man?”
Jiang Yan pushed Hu Hanghang’s face away and answered in a completely casual tone. “No one hit me.”
“What are you talking about.” Hu Hanghang held up his hand to compare. “I can see the shape of a full-on slap right there.”
“……” Jiang Yan picked up a pair of chopsticks and lifted a piece of greens. “I told you — no one hit me. Eat your food.”
Xu Yichuan clicked his tongue. “Come on, man — tell us. Who did it? We’ll go get payback for you.”
“Exactly.” Hu Hanghang had righteous indignation written all over his face. “Who’s got the nerve to hit our Jiang Yan? Are they tired of living?”
Seeing that Jiang Yan continued to stay silent, Song Yuan turned to Lin Tao. “Lin Tao, you were with Jiang Yan this morning — did you happen to see who hit him?”
Lin Tao had been quietly keeping her head down over her soup in an attempt to become invisible, when she was suddenly called upon by name. She nearly choked. Jiang Yan pulled a paper napkin from the table and handed it to her.
She took it, held it in her hand, let her gaze move over Song Yuan and the others’ faces, and then slowly said: “I did happen to see who hit him.”
Xu Yichuan, wearing his signature expression of I knew it, said: “Who?”
Lin Tao dabbed the corner of her mouth with the napkin, rubbed the paper between her fingertips, and said in a calm voice: “Me.”
Everyone: “?”
Seeing the blank looks of confusion all around, she repeated herself: “Him — I hit him.”
Everyone: “……”
Hu Hanghang couldn’t contain it: “But why?”
Lin Tao thought: If I told you it was an accident, would you believe me?
Before she’d managed to figure out how to explain the accidental nature of the incident, Jiang Yan calmly helped a piece of chicken leg into her bowl, then remarked with casual ease: “This is a little something couples do to add spice to their relationship.”
“Something you single people wouldn’t understand.”
Everyone: “……”
You absolute menace.
You inhuman creature!
After the meal, the hotel staff wheeled in the cake Jiang Yan had ordered in advance.
It was a custom creation — the cream was smooth and delicate, the surface adorned with an elegant arrangement of assorted fruits and a figurine of a young girl. When the cake was sliced open, the layers inside revealed imported jam, the sauce blending into the cream in a rich, visually indulgent way.
Lin Tao had barely finished making her wish and blowing out the candles when everyone produced their gifts.
Meng Xin went first. She had prepared a limited edition perfume set from a well-known luxury brand. “You’ve always liked collecting perfume bottles, haven’t you? You’re absolutely going to love the design of this set!”
Lin Tao’s eyes lit up. She accepted it with a smile. “Thank you.”
Next was Hu Hanghang. He had prepared a small German-made neck massager — the gift had a distinctly practical, understated energy about it. “Wishing Lin Tao a life as vast as the Eastern Sea and as long as the Southern Mountains! May she grow younger with every passing year!”
“……” Lin Tao wasn’t entirely sure how to react. “Thank you, Pangpang.”
Song Yuan and Xu Yichuan’s approach was more direct. Each of them handed Lin Tao a red envelope. Xu Yichuan even added an explanation: “Honestly, Lin Tao — trust me, nothing is as practical as money.”
The red envelopes they gave were generously stuffed. Just by pressing them between her fingers, Lin Tao could tell. She thanked them three times over.
“Don’t mention it.” Song Yuan grinned and made a deliberate show of teasing her: “You’ll be giving it all back one day anyway.”
“……”
Guan Che’s gift also fell squarely into the practical category and shared a certain kinship with Hu Hanghang’s: a head massage chair. “You’re going into your final year soon — perfect for late-night study sessions.”
It was the first time Lin Tao had ever celebrated a birthday with this many people around her.
Back in middle school, she had been reserved and quiet, and apart from Meng Xin, had few other friends. Every year her birthday would pass with Meng Xin finding some way to give her a gift, and little else.
Beyond that, it had mostly been Fang Yisong and Lin Yongcheng who arranged things, along with occasional gifts from their business associates — but those gifts were less about celebrating her birthday and more about the interests entangled behind them. So what the associates sent tended to be precious things: calligraphy scrolls, pieces of porcelain, and the like — individual works that could command extraordinary sums.
Lin Tao had always asked Fang Yisong to donate those kinds of gifts. She had no use for them.
This year felt a little different.
Lin Tao looked at the small mountain of presents piled up beside her. None of them were worth what those scrolls and vases would have fetched — but the feeling woven into each one far surpassed anything those objects could have offered.
She had never felt so grateful for the strangeness of fate — that it had brought her, in these otherwise ordinary high school years, a group of people this wonderful.
Once everyone had given their gifts, Song Yuan glanced over at Jiang Yan, who was sitting quietly to one side. “What did you get Lin Tao, Jiang Yan?”
Lin Tao’s heart gave a sudden skip. She thought of the surprises from that morning, and spoke up on his behalf: “He already gave me his gift.”
Jiang Yan leaned forward slightly and looked at her sideways, a small smile on his face. “I wasn’t aware I’d already given it to you.”
“Hm?” Lin Tao looked at him, a little puzzled. “Wasn’t that what this morning was?”
“No,” Jiang Yan said. “Though my gift for you is inside those letters. You’ll understand when you go home and read them.”
By the time the group filed out of the hotel, it was barely past one in the afternoon. Lin Tao left all the gifts in storage at the hotel and walked out empty-handed.
Xu Yichuan had been browsing on his phone and announced: “There’s a newly opened amusement park nearby — they have a flying motorbike ride, a terrifying roller coaster, and a drop tower! Want to go check it out?”
“Sure, why not — it’s still early.”
The amusement park wasn’t far — maybe a kilometer, or just a few hundred meters if you cut through the side streets. But in the August heat, even standing still was enough to work up a sweat.
The group split into two cars.
Inside the car, the air conditioning was running at full blast. Hu Hanghang and Xu Yichuan were in the middle of a heated debate about which ride to go on first.
Lin Tao noticed that Jiang Yan hadn’t said a word. She nudged him with her elbow. “What’s up? Feeling off?”
“No.” Jiang Yan had his arm propped against the window, his head resting on his hand. The mark on the side of his face had faded considerably. “Just full and a bit sleepy.”
He sat up straighter and looked at Lin Tao. “That post-meal drowsiness — you know what I mean?”
Lin Tao gave a sound of understanding. “I do.”
One of the stranger quirks of the human body — eating too much made you want to sleep.
Lin Tao was well acquainted with the feeling.
The distance was short, and barely ten minutes after getting in the car, they came to a stop right at the entrance of the amusement park.
It was summer break, peak travel season, and the park was clearly packed.
Guan Che got out first and went ahead to queue for tickets. For convenience, he bought VIP all-inclusive passes — meaning they could skip all the separate queues once inside.
After passing through the entrance gates and stepping into the park, the first thing to greet them was an enormous fountain. The water shot up to breathtaking heights, and anyone within several hundred meters could feel the cool mist drifting down from it.
Hu Hanghang had a look at the small map printed on the ticket. “The terrifying roller coaster is closest to us — let’s start there.”
Xu Yichuan said, “Fine by me. Ask Jiang Yan.”
Hu Hanghang only then remembered and looked over at Jiang Yan, who was standing slightly apart from the group. “Jiang Yan — you good with that?”
“……” Jiang Yan had his arms crossed, his tone stiff. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Is that so?” Hu Hanghang muttered under his breath. “I could have sworn you were afraid of heights.”
He said it too quietly — only Xu Yichuan, standing closest to him, could make out what he said. Lin Tao only saw his lips move and caught nothing.
By the time the group filed into the VIP lane and boarded the roller coaster, Guan Che seemed to suddenly recall something. He turned his head, looked at Jiang Yan — whose face had gone rather pale — and said with a grin: “Hey, Jiang Yan — didn’t you used to say you’d never go near these things because of your fear of heights?”
Being repeatedly exposed like this, Jiang Yan ground his back teeth together, his voice as though squeezed out through the gaps. “Can’t I just not be afraid anymore?”
“Sure, of course you can.” Guan Che smiled and turned his gaze away.
Lin Tao watched Jiang Yan’s stiff profile and the hand gripping the safety bar tightly, and thought that he probably really was afraid of heights. She reached out and placed her hand over the back of his. “Why don’t I come with you and we find something else to do?”
“No need.” Jiang Yan took a slow, deliberate breath and said, his voice rigid, “I’m not afraid of heights.”
Lin Tao looked at him. “If you could see your own face right now, you probably wouldn’t be able to say that. Come on — let’s go do something else.”
A fear of heights was a terrifying thing to contend with, in ways Lin Tao couldn’t personally imagine — but she had watched someone who was afraid of heights try to ride a roller coaster once before, and the results had not been pleasant.
Jiang Yan closed his eyes briefly, then reversed his grip to hold her hand. “It’s fine. If it gets bad, I’ll just close my eyes.”
“Jiang Yan, this isn’t something to joke about.” His palms were damp with sweat, and there was no warmth in them — cold and clammy. Lin Tao’s worry was genuine.
“Really, it’s alright.” Jiang Yan looked at her and gave a small smile. “Besides — I wanted to try this at least once. Consider it keeping me company.”
“……”
He didn’t give Lin Tao a chance to refuse. The roller coaster had already begun its preparations for departure.
Three — two — one!
The roller coaster eased into motion, climbing slowly toward its highest point.
Lin Tao could feel that Jiang Yan had almost stopped breathing.
She wanted to laugh but didn’t quite know how to handle the situation, and quietly asked: “Are you really still okay?”
“……Yes.”
Jiang Yan’s fear of heights had always been there. It had never gotten better, and if anything, it seemed to have worsened as he grew older.
In truth, before they had even arrived at the amusement park, he had already thought through how he would gracefully decline if this topic came up.
But then came the moment everything went wrong — Hu Hanghang’s question:
“Jiang Yan — you good with that?”
A man.
Simply cannot say he is not good with something.
Especially not in front of his girlfriend.
Jiang Yan had felt his pride challenged, and so he had gritted his teeth and gotten on with the rest of them.
By the time the roller coaster reached its peak, Jiang Yan no longer dared to keep his eyes open. All he could do was feel a plummeting force crash through him, followed by the violent, overwhelming sensation of weightlessness.
The roller coaster’s track twisted and turned without warning — diving, inverting, looping — reaching new heights only to come screaming back down again.
If the Jiang Yan of a few minutes ago had known that riding a roller coaster was not simply a matter of sitting in a seat, but was in fact a deeply terrifying assault on every sense he possessed, the Jiang Yan of those few minutes ago would absolutely, without question, never have forced himself to get on in the first place just to save face.
The wind howled past his ears. Screams surged all around him.
Jiang Yan felt entirely at the mercy of weightlessness, with a persistent, suffocating sense that he could fall at any moment.
He pressed desperately against the seatback, trying to anchor himself — but the speed was too great, and it threw him forward.
That helpless feeling of having nothing to hold onto, of nothing solid underfoot — brought him back, in an instant, to many years before, to the time when Yu Fengyan had first taken him to a city he didn’t know.
Back then, he had been exactly like this: feet unable to touch the ground, heart hollow and adrift, nothing to hold onto.
Then, somewhere in the blur of sensation, something warm seized hold of him.
Jiang Yan opened his eyes into the rushing wind.
Lin Tao was gripping his hand tightly. Her warm palm pressed against the back of his hand, as though she were pouring sunlight into his solitary, frost-edged life.
“Jiang Yan!!” she shouted over the wind, her voice breaking apart in the gust. “If you’re scared, you can try yelling — it actually helps more than you’d think!”
“Try to enjoy the ride — then the fear doesn’t feel as bad!”
The roller coaster entered a smooth stretch of track and the speed dropped. Lin Tao turned her head to look at him, the wind scattering her hair. Her voice was low and soft. “It’s almost over. Don’t be scared.”
Jiang Yan had recovered somewhat. He looked at her and smiled. “I’m not scared.”
“It’s alright, Jiang Yan.” Lin Tao held his hand, fingers interlaced with his. “I’m right here.”
“Yes,” Jiang Yan said quietly.
The amusement park’s grounds were vast, and the entire roller coaster loop took ten minutes. By the time it came to a stop, Lin Tao’s legs had gone a little weak as well.
Hu Hanghang and Xu Yichuan couldn’t take it. The moment the ride stopped, both of them bolted for the nearest bin and retched.
“Oh god,” Hu Hanghang said, rinsing his mouth afterward. “How does this thing have such a delayed effect?”
Xu Yichuan, with the same reaction, sat down on a nearby bench. “I’m done. I am completely done. I should have just gone on the carousel. I would have been perfectly happy on the carousel.”
“……”
In the end, it was Lin Tao — who had no fear of heights — who had to be helped down by Jiang Yan, who did. Meng Xin, Song Yuan, and Guan Che bounced off the ride as if nothing had happened whatsoever.
Once they were off, they were already talking about going back for more.
Meng Xin fanned her face with her hand. Song Yuan produced a pack of wet wipes and handed them to her.
She took them, tore the pack open, and wiped the sweat from her forehead. “How about the others rest here while we go do a round on the drop tower? I just read in the park’s introduction that the drop tower here reaches the highest point of any drop tower in all of Xicheng’s amusement parks.”
“Let’s do it — come on.” Song Yuan grabbed Guan Che and followed Meng Xin’s lead.
Lin Tao sat on a bench in the shade. Jiang Yan had gone back to buy several cold bottles of water. He twisted one open and handed it to her, then tossed the rest to Hu Hanghang and Xu Yichuan.
Jiang Yan reached out and wiped a smudge of dust from her cheek. “How are you feeling — a bit better?”
“I’m fine, just hit me all at once.” Lin Tao held the cold bottle against her face, pressing it to her skin.
Beside them, Hu Hanghang and Xu Yichuan had finally gathered themselves. “By all logic, Jiang Yan, shouldn’t you have had the worst reaction? How is it that you ended up being the most composed one?”
Jiang Yan sat down in the empty spot beside Lin Tao. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, the picture of languid ease, and said: “Probably because I have a girlfriend to protect me, and you lot don’t.”
“……”