Lin Yingtao slipped the key strap around her wrist and gently closed the door behind her. She swiftly descended the stairs.
As darkness enveloped both the night and the stairwell, the motion-activated lights created an enchanting effect. From below, Lin Yingtao seemed like a princess from a magical realm, reminiscent of Harry Potter, as lights illuminated her path.
Eventually, even the ground floor, dark before Jiang Qiaoxi, lit up.
Jiang Qiaoxi stood outside the building entrance, shrouded in darkness. He carried a backpack and held a bulging travel bag. A distant streetlight cast a silent shadow at his feet.
Lin Yingtao paused on the ground floor landing, peering at him through the door’s gap with wide eyes. She hurried down, her strappy nightgown swishing and her slippers slapping against the steps.
She unlocked and opened the entrance door from inside. Without the barrier, she could see Jiang Qiaoxi’s face more clearly.
“Jiang Qiaoxi…” Her words caught in her throat. It felt as if they hadn’t seen each other throughout their entire senior year.
Jiang Qiaoxi looked down at her, his hand loosening its grip as the travel bag dropped heavily by his feet.
Bicycles belonging to electric construction workers lined both sides of the entrance. Nearby, residents walked their dogs and chatted, carrying children and discussing various matters. Lin Yingtao had known these women since childhood, always addressing them respectfully as aunties.
Jiang Qiaoxi stood with most of his body turned away from the light.
“Jiang Qiaoxi,” Lin Yingtao called softly, her nose tingling with emotion just from saying his name. “Where have you been?”
Suddenly, she was embraced, her voice muffled by a kiss.
Without a word, Jiang Qiaoxi stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Lin Yingtao’s waist, enveloping her slender back, arms, and wrist with the childlike key strap. He lowered his head and gently kissed her lips. Lin Yingtao tilted her head back, initially stunned, then raised it slightly higher.
Jiang Qiaoxi held her tighter.
He wore a wrinkled dark gray T-shirt and carried a backpack as he kissed her at the building’s entrance. Unlike their previous timid pecks, this kiss lingered. Jiang Qiaoxi kissed Lin Yingtao for a long time until her back tensed with nervousness.
A child’s voice rang out from the neighboring entrance, sure to attract adults’ attention.
“Jiang Qiaoxi…” Lin Yingtao said, her face flushed as she looked up.
Jiang Qiaoxi opened the iron door behind Lin Yingtao. Grasping her wrist, he led her down the stairs toward the basement.
Lin Yingtao nearly stumbled on the steps.
The basement was pitch black with a long corridor. Even if someone came, the motion-activated lights would quickly extinguish, leaving the space unnoticed.
Lin Yingtao stood at the corridor’s end. As the lights dimmed, she could only hear Jiang Qiaoxi’s breathing. He gripped her waist, pulling her close. Though Lin Yingtao wanted to mention his luggage left outside, her arms around his shoulders rendered her speechless.
She parted her lips slightly, trembling and gasping in the darkness of their kiss. Her cheek pressed against Jiang Qiaoxi’s lowered neck as her eyes grew hot with emotion.
“Yingtao,” Jiang Qiaoxi suddenly said, “don’t forget me.”
Before Lin Yingtao could process his words, he kissed her again—once on her cheek, then on her soft lips. Unlike the earlier tenderness, this kiss was more intense. Lin Yingtao’s head tilted back, her long hair falling from her shoulders onto Jiang Qiaoxi’s fingers as he held her. She let out a small sound; at eighteen, she had never been kissed like this before.
It seemed as if Jiang Qiaoxi was trying to convey all the bittersweet experiences of the adult world through his kiss.
The basement alternated between light and dark as the young couple held their breath. In moments of brightness, Lin Yingtao, her cheeks flushed, gazed at Jiang Qiaoxi.
Her hands moved from his shoulders to caress his thinner face before wrapping around his neck.
“Where have you been?” she asked, her voice tinged with hurt.
Jiang Qiaoxi’s long lashes lowered before her.
“Have you had dinner?” Lin Yingtao asked. “My parents made food before they left. I haven’t eaten yet. Come up and eat with me.”
She had so much more to say to him, better discussed at home.
Suddenly, Lin Yingtao’s head was pressed against Jiang Qiaoxi’s chest as the lights dimmed again. She felt his breath on her cheek, his kisses on her temple and brow.
“Yingtao,” Jiang Qiaoxi said.
“Yes?”
Jiang Qiaoxi swallowed hard, then softly kissed her lips once more.
“I’d like to eat Aunt Juan’s jujube steamed buns.”
Lin Yingtao laughed through her tears. “She steamed plenty today. I’ll heat some for you.”
Jiang Qiaoxi’s travel bag still sat outside the building entrance. As Lin Yingtao emerged from the basement stairs, she turned to head upstairs, calling back to Jiang Qiaoxi, “I’ll go heat the food. Bring your bag up!”
Jiang Qiaoxi opened the entrance door, watching her from the doorway. Lin Yingtao wore a somewhat childish nightgown that hinted at her curves. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, swaying gently as she walked. She wore light yellow slippers, her heels rising as she climbed the stairs, revealing smooth, pink soles without a single callus.
Lin Yingtao was surrounded by ordinary yet caring family members. She deserved to live in complete, irreplaceable happiness that would never cause anyone worry.
Jiang Qiaoxi closed the door from outside.
Lin Yingtao rushed upstairs, her cheeks burning, alternating between dazed and smiling. She entered the kitchen, lifted the steamer lid, and quickly counted four jujube buns. She hastily opened the rice cooker, filling it with water while retrieving the now-cold dishes her parents had prepared.
The wall clock’s minute hand ticked steadily. Lin Yingtao placed the steamer basket inside, closed the lid, and plugged it in. Turning around, she noticed the open apartment door.
Why hadn’t Jiang Qiaoxi come up yet?
In the Electric Construction Group’s residential area, only the laughter of aunties and the barking of dogs broke the night’s silence. Occasionally, a car’s headlights illuminated Lin Yingtao’s nightgown-clad figure as she searched the street.
Driver Shao from the car team lowered his window and called out, “Yingtao! What are you doing out here?”
Lin Yingtao turned to see Uncle Shao. He was driving Aunt Xie and their baby home.
“Yingtao, what’s wrong?” Aunt Xie asked with concern from the passenger seat, sensing something amiss.
“Uncle, Auntie…” Lin Yingtao’s voice trembled as she faced the headlights. “Did you see Jiang Qiaoxi on your way here?”
Lin Yingtao ran to the community gate, her slippers slapping against the pavement as she questioned the young security guard. He didn’t know Jiang Qiaoxi but said, “A tall young man with a backpack and travel bag just left in a taxi heading that way!”
She sprinted past Qin Yeyun’s small shop, running faster than she ever had in sports meets, only stopping when she reached the intersection.
Surrounded by a sea of traffic, with cars speeding along the elevated highway, any trace of Jiang Qiaoxi quickly vanished.
Lin Yingtao crouched down, lowered her head, and began to sob.
Jiang Zheng returned home to inspect the situation. He sat wearily on Yu Zhenfeng’s sofa and asked, “Where’s Yingtao?”
Yu Zhenfeng replied that she was talking with Yu Qiao and the others in the room.
After a while, Yu Qiao emerged from the bedroom. Just then, someone knocked forcefully at the entrance. Yu Jin, the younger cousin, opened the door, and Liang Hongfei strode in.
Jiang Zheng stood up abruptly as Yu Qiao reached behind to lock the bedroom door.
Jiang Qiaoxi had suddenly returned to the Electric Construction Group headquarters late at night. Taking advantage of his parents’ absence, he packed his belongings. Before leaving, he only went to see Lin Haifeng’s daughter.
This boy—introverted, taciturn, stubborn, and burdened with heavy thoughts—was prone to extremes. Even Jiang Zheng couldn’t maintain authority over him. When faced with problems, he never confided in his father.
Despite his mathematical genius, at just eighteen, how much could he truly understand about life’s intricacies?
Lin Yingtao had nightmares for many days.
In her dreams, she walked home from school with Jiang Qiaoxi, both carrying backpacks.
“Jiang Qiaoxi,” she said, “will you call me after you go to the provincial capital?”
“Yes.”
“You’re lying,” she pouted, kicking a pebble. “You never called.”
Jiang Qiaoxi walked silently, then turned to face her.
Lin Yingtao stood still, her twin ponytails swaying as she stared at him.
Jiang Qiaoxi’s body was a thin shadow. Lin Yingtao, focused on walking, hadn’t noticed that he’d been merely an ethereal outline all along. The “Jiang Qiaoxi” within the outline said, “Yingtao, I’m sorry.”
Lin Yingtao replied tearfully, “What good is ‘sorry’?”
In that instant, “Jiang Qiaoxi” dispersed like sand in the wind or fireflies scattering into a deep forest.
Lin Yingtao stood motionless, staring at where he’d vanished until her father called from behind. He approached and lifted her, as she continued gazing upward in a daze.
The 2008 financial crisis left little impact on Lin Qile’s generation. Fresh from their college entrance exams, they’d finished years of arduous study. What did adults’ joys and sorrows matter to them?
Before exam results were released, Class 18 held a gathering—a farewell of sorts. Many girls cried, but Lin Qile didn’t. She sat between Cai Fangyuan and Yu Qiao, watching classmates embrace each other reluctantly.
Huang Zhanjie approached. Lin Qile raised her beer glass to his. He smiled, his eyes slightly red—he’d always been sensitive. “When I publish something successful, I’ll send it to you all!” he said.
“Great!” Cai Fangyuan applauded.
Lin Qile sipped the bitter beer, frowning.
She’d long understood that gatherings and partings were life’s natural cycle. After dinner, the class went to karaoke. Some girls urged Yu Qiao to sing “Today I’m Marrying You” as half the class cheered. Lin Qile lowered her head, noticing a text from her junior, Qi Le.
“By the way, Rongrong, have you seen Jiang’s backpack?”
Lin Qile didn’t reply. She left the karaoke room and called Jiang Qiaoxi, but still couldn’t reach him.
“Yingtao, don’t forget me,” Jiang Qiaoxi had said that day.
It sounded almost like a plea.
When exam scores were released, Lin Yingtao had lunch at Yu Qiao’s. Yu Qiao scored as expected, while Lin Yingtao exceeded expectations, outscoring him by dozens of points.
Adults celebrated at the dining table.
Lin Yingtao sat on Yu Qiao’s bed, listening to her MP3 player. Yu Qiao spoke to her from his desk. She looked up, not hearing clearly, and removed her earphones.
Yu Qiao said, “You did well.”
Lin Yingtao grinned.
Yu Qiao lowered his eyes, perhaps wondering if he could still see traces of the crying, study-averse little girl she once was.
“If not for that trip to the provincial capital,” Lin Yingtao suddenly said, “I wouldn’t have started studying so hard in middle school.”
Yu Qiao replied, “So it turned out well?”
Lin Yingtao’s mouth twisted slightly, a familiar expression to Yu Qiao.
But it seemed that, imperceptibly, so much had changed.
“Where did Jiang Qiaoxi go?” Yu Qiao asked.
“I don’t know,” Lin Yingtao said.
“Two from our grade are going to UC Berkeley,” Yu Qiao mused, “one from Class 8, one from Class 15.”
Lin Yingtao looked at him.
Her MP3 player slid from her lap, falling into a crevice at the foot of Yu Qiao’s bed.
Seeing Lin Yingtao’s bright eyes fixed on him, Yu Qiao smiled. “He must be going to school somewhere.”
Leaving Yu Qiao’s house, Lin Yingtao habitually glanced back, noticing moving trucks outside Building 23.
“Yes, your Uncle Jiang got divorced,” her father said at home, watering Lin Yingtao’s long-neglected evergreen plant.
Lin Yingtao stood motionless at the doorway.
“Jiang Qiaoxi’s mother moved out a few days ago,” her father continued, turning around. “Your Uncle Jiang was transferred to an overseas site. He won’t be living at headquarters anymore.”
Lin Yingtao stood beneath Building 23, gazing up at that window.
Long ago, she’d hoped to visit Jiang Qiaoxi there someday.
Planes occasionally cast shadows over the headquarters complex. On August 8, 2008, Lin Yingtao watched the Olympic opening ceremony on TV.
The Olympics had finally arrived.
As a child, Lin Yingtao had thought it would happen in another lifetime.
Lin Diangong didn’t watch the ceremony. He sat on the balcony, reading news about Hong Kong’s economic turmoil due to the U.S. subprime mortgage crisis. Many companies went bankrupt, the wealthy accrued massive debts, laid-off employees struggled with Hong Kong’s high living costs, and some who lost everything in the stock market jumped from rooftops in despair.
Lin Yingtao approached as the TV broadcast the ceremony’s energetic drumbeats. Lin Diangong set aside his newspaper, letting Lin Yingtao sit on his lap.
Yingtao had grown; Lin Diangong struggled to hold her.
“Aunt and Uncle don’t like the major I chose,” Lin Yingtao said after a while, leaning against her father.
Lin Diangong smiled, observing her downcast eyes.
“When your grandfather and I were young, the state assigned our jobs,” Lin Diangong said, his arm around her. “Everyone had to work hard to build the country together.”
“Now the country is built. I hope you can find what you want to do, Yingtao. Whatever you want to study, study it well in university.”
“I might not earn much money in the future,” Lin Yingtao lowered her head.
Lin Diangong chuckled.
“How much money do you think you’ll earn? How much do you want to earn?” Lin Diangong pinched her cheek. “Your mom and I have pensions. You just need to support yourself.”
“Dad,” Lin Yingtao rested on Lin Diangong’s shoulder for a moment, then asked, “What would you want to study?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you could go to university, what would you want to study?”
Lin Diangong pondered, then smiled.
“I’ve never thought about it,” he said. “Going to university isn’t something everyone gets to do.”
“I’ll study hard,” Lin Yingtao said softly.
After a while, she added, “Dad, I don’t think I’ll ever see Jiang Qiaoxi again.”
Lin Diangong frowned at her.
Lin Yingtao choked up: “I feel… I’ll never like someone this much again.”
Lin Diangong heard Yingtao sniffling.
“Yingtao, you’re only eighteen,” Lin Diangong held his daughter’s hand in the night. “Don’t say ‘never’.”
※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※
Yingtao and her friends’ high school days have ended.
The two sentences in the synopsis have essentially been interpreted to this point. The bittersweet 20 years are over; from now on, there will be no more bitterness, only sweetness.
Today is the 2019 Lunar New Year. Happy New Year to all my friends! I haven’t had my New Year’s Eve dinner yet, so I’m going to eat now. Perhaps in another universe, Jiang Qiaoxi is also preparing to enjoy a steaming New Year’s Eve dinner with little sister Yingtao. Jiang Chunlu is running around the house with toys sent by Uncle Cai, making trouble for her already busy mother, until her father scoops her up and places her in the child’s chair.