In late June, as the final exams for sophomore year ended, students welcomed a pleasant summer vacation.

Lin Zhixia and Lin Zeqiu took the train home together. The siblings could only stay at home for a week—Lin Zhixia needed to finish work in the laboratory as she was planning a new paper. Meanwhile, Lin Zeqiu was preparing to participate in the “International Collegiate Programming Contest” and had to join the school’s summer training camp.

Lin Zeqiu didn’t expect to win an award in the competition. He had heard that the teachers at the summer training camp were very responsible and would develop students’ algorithmic programming abilities, which was essentially free training. Lin Zeqiu certainly wouldn’t miss such a good opportunity.

On the way home, Lin Zeqiu said to his sister, “How much money did you make from selling your software? Don’t buy a house for the family; keep that money for yourself. You’ll be studying abroad, and you can’t be without money. I’ve learned quite a bit at school, and in a couple of years, I’ll be able to intern at a company.”

“Brother,” Lin Zhixia suddenly asked, “did you choose the computer science major just to make good money?”

Lin Zeqiu answered honestly: “If studying computer science couldn’t make money, what would be the point of this major?”

Lin Zhixia sat on the lower berth of the train, holding an orange. While squeezing the orange peel, she asked him: “If our family were wealthy, what major would you choose?”

Lin Zeqiu thought for a moment and answered: “Archaeology, digging things up from the ground.”

After speaking, he took out a Swiss Army knife—also a gift from Lin Zhixia. Lin Zeqiu cleaned the blade with a disinfectant wipe and rinsed it with mineral water before using it to cut the orange for Lin Zhixia.

Lin Zhixia happily ate the orange, her voice muffled: “Brother, programming is also fun, you can dig things up from the digital world…”

Lin Zeqiu lazily lay down and opened a book called “Programming Pearls.” It was nine-thirty at night, and it was completely dark outside. Soft snoring sounds came from the compartment, and Lin Zhixia yawned. After cleaning up and washing, she collapsed onto the bed, hugging her plush penguin to sleep.

Half-asleep, the train stopped at a station platform.

The sleeper compartment remained dim, with only a yellow light glowing on the side by the edge seat. In the dim, hazy light, accompanied by rustling sounds, a sturdy man in his thirties approached with a suitcase. He lifted a corner of Lin Zhixia’s blanket, his hand touching her sock. Cold air suddenly invaded her body, and Lin Zhixia instantly woke up. She sat up immediately and shouted fiercely: “What are you doing?”

Lin Zeqiu also woke up. He flipped out of bed and asked in an unfriendly tone: “Who are you?”

The stranger reeked of alcohol. He glanced at his ticket and rubbed his chin: “Oh… I got the wrong seat.”

Lin Zeqiu was radiating a murderous aura. Standing nearly 1.9 meters tall with powerful muscles, he was like a solid mountain, standing in the aisle of the compartment. Without saying a word, he had an intimidating presence. The stranger repeatedly apologized, picked up his luggage, and quickly walked away.

“Brother,” Lin Zhixia called to him.

He sat on the edge of her bed: “Go back to sleep, it’s fine now. If that guy comes back, I’ll break his legs.”

Lin Zhixia lay back down.

Lin Zeqiu tucked in her blanket. She hugged her penguin, lying quietly on her side. Lin Zeqiu gently patted her back, and in the dim environment, he murmured: “Going abroad to study on your own, in an unfamiliar place…”

“I’ll adapt,” Lin Zhixia replied, “don’t worry about me.”

His palm rested on the blanket: “Your courage has grown. When you were little, strangers used to make you cry.”

Lin Zhixia remained silent, drifting back into a dreamlike state. At four-thirty in the morning, she woke up once and was surprised to find Lin Zeqiu still sitting on the edge of her bed. He was holding a book, turning pages back and forth. She asked: “Haven’t you slept all night?”

He said, “I lay down for a while but couldn’t sleep.”

Lin Zhixia hugged her penguin tightly: “Brother…”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

He responded: “I’m your brother—there’s nothing to thank me for.”

*

Lin Zhixia felt that since her brother started university, the relationship between the siblings had advanced rapidly, evolving from childhood’s “small fights every three days, big fights every five days” to the current “harmonious coexistence and mutual trust.” Their parents would surely be deeply gratified.

After returning home, Lin Zhixia grabbed her mother’s wrist and said, “Mom, my brother and I have grown up. We don’t fight anymore.”

Her mother indeed praised them: “Mom knows you’re both good children.”

They stood in the clean and tidy living room as a refreshing breeze blew in from the balcony. The summer cicadas chirped incessantly, and familiar food aromas wafted from the kitchen. Lin Zhixia felt completely relaxed, her mood improving further as she dragged her suitcase into her bedroom and began unpacking her clothes.

Her mother came over to help.

Her father was still talking with her brother in the living room.

Lin Zhixia remembered something important. She revealed: “Mom, Mom, I made money selling software, a total of 370,000 yuan. I spent 4,000 on a phone for my brother, so there’s 366,000 left. Let’s use it for a down payment on a house.”

Her mother was speechless with surprise for quite a while. With tears in her eyes, she praised her daughter several times and called her husband and son over. The family of four gathered in the bedroom to discuss how to handle this huge sum of money.

To Lin Zhixia’s surprise, her parents and brother all disagreed with buying a house. They unanimously believed that since Lin Zhixia was going to study for her doctorate abroad, the 360,000 yuan should be her reserve fund.

Her father spoke earnestly: “Xiaxia, your mom and I have lived here for almost twenty years—we’re used to it. You’re going to study abroad, and you’ll need money everywhere…”

“I have a scholarship,” Lin Zhixia declared.

But her mother said, “Your father recently read a book about a group of people who went to study in the United States last century. Those students’ families were all poor. They suffered hardships abroad, were mistreated by foreign landlords, and had to wash dishes in Chinese restaurants for work. Your father is afraid you’ll end up washing dishes abroad, too.”

Her father sighed.

Lin Zhixia was stunned.

She emphasized repeatedly: “I won’t be washing dishes. I want to go to Cambridge because they have a quantum research group with a focus on chemistry. There’s still controversy about quantum chip materials, and I want to try a different approach to solve the problem. Also, when major universities recruit professors, their job postings often state ‘priority given to those with overseas study or work experience’…”

“Where do you want to be a professor after graduation?” Lin Zeqiu asked.

Lin Zhixia planned: “I want to teach at the best university in our province.”

The best university in their province is ranked in the top five nationally.

Lin Zhixia expressed her expectation: “I could be colleagues with Professor Shen Zhaohua and Sister Zhu Chan.”

Lin Zeqiu foresaw that his sister would become a young professor. If he were to pursue graduate studies at the best university in their province, he might even have the opportunity to audit Lin Zhixia’s classes. He shuddered at the thought and stopped speaking.

The family’s supermarket temporarily closed for an hour, as neither parent felt like working. Lin Zhixia and Lin Zeqiu had been away from home for so long that their return was like a pair of birds coming back to the nest, making their parents try everything possible to keep them under their protective wings.

During the days when Lin Zhixia and her brother were at home, their parents were incredibly attentive to the siblings. Moreover, because Lin Zhixia had earned so much money, their mother was so happy that for three consecutive days, the whole family ate shrimp dumplings. Their mother made many dumplings, and Lin Zhixia ate to her heart’s content.

On the day of departure, Lin Zhixia was especially reluctant to leave her parents. But she had to pursue her future. She held her brother’s hand as they said goodbye to their parents at the train station. After the siblings had walked quite a distance, Lin Zhixia looked back and saw that their parents were still outside the station, standing under the scorching sun, gazing at them from afar.

*

Summer continued.

The heat of July and August was oppressive, but fortunately, the school laboratories had air conditioning.

Lin Zhixia immersed herself in the laboratory, focusing on researching “state preservation strategies for superconducting quantum circuits.” After delving into this field for several months, she was now in a season of harvest. After repeatedly verifying her experimental data, she began drafting a paper—this article received approval from Professor Gu, who said that once she completed it, she could submit it to “Physical Review Letters.”

“Physical Review Letters” was a top journal in the field of physics.

Lin Zhixia was full of motivation. She wrote her paper with vigor every day.

This research topic originally belonged to Tan Qianche, but Tan Qianche’s research methods differed from Lin Zhixia’s, and his experimental results were much inferior to hers. Because of this, Tan Qianche specifically sought Lin Zhixia’s advice, and their discussions lasted an entire week.

Lin Zhixia followed some of Tan Qianche’s suggestions and slightly improved her experiment. She politely said, “Thank you, I’ll add your name to the list of authors on the paper.”

Tan Qianche replied nonchalantly: “That’s not necessary. I already have more than a dozen first-author papers.”

Lin Zhixia responded calmly: “Professor Gu said that my paper’s analysis of superconducting quantum circuits is comprehensive and will have a profound impact. It can get into ‘Physical Review Letters.'”

Tan Qianche’s mouth twitched, but he still maintained his posture: “‘Physical Review Letters’ is a good journal…”

He couldn’t continue with his words. He felt that Lin Zhixia’s current academic level was not far behind his, possibly even on par with his—her rate of progress was astonishingly fast. She never forgot any knowledge point she had seen or heard.

He changed his tone: “Work hard and finish the paper soon. If it gets published, this article will be your greatest achievement so far, but it’s just a small step forward for you. You’ll be able to do even better work in the future.”

“I know,” Lin Zhixia said, facing the screen and typing on the keyboard. “I’m sixteen now, and the road ahead is long.”

She’s only sixteen, Tan Qianche thought.

What was he doing when he was sixteen? He inevitably thought of Wei Ruoxing again. He walked out of the laboratory building and went downstairs to smoke a cigarette.

During the summer vacation, their campus was open to visitors who only needed to make an appointment in advance for free admission. Tan Qianche saw many tourists, and some bold girls approached him, asking for his phone number and whether he was a university student.

He falsely claimed he wasn’t.

He said he had dropped out of middle school, his family was poor, he had been married for many years, had children, was a caring father with filial children, and lived a happy life.

A few days ago, Tan Qianche had stayed up for three nights to finish a paper. Now, he was unshaven with disheveled hair. The breeze moved his cotton t-shirt as he held a cigarette in his mouth and a plastic lighter in his hand, giving him a rough, simple, and unkempt appearance.

Just at that moment, a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy walked up from across the way. The boy was dressed neatly and was extremely handsome—so good-looking it made one dizzy. Tan Qianche raised his eyebrows slightly and called out: “Jiang Yubai, are you here to see Lin Zhixia?”

Jiang Yubai had never set foot in Lin Zhixia’s university before. He was about to go abroad and wanted to come see it. He hadn’t notified Lin Zhixia because he knew she was busy and might not have time to host him.

Jiang Yubai briefly explained the situation. Tan Qianche had originally thought that it would be best for Lin Zhixia to focus solely on academics without getting involved with anyone, but he detected a pure-hearted quality unique to young people in Jiang Yubai.

The word “pure-hearted” was far removed from Tan Qianche.

After finishing his cigarette, Tan Qianche turned and entered the laboratory building, passing along a message to Lin Zhixia. Jiang Yubai stood outside the laboratory building, waiting for a few minutes before Lin Zhixia appeared. She ran out of the elevator, rushing towards him: “Why didn’t you call me?”

His reason was solid: “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Under the dense shade of trees, he smiled, self-mockingly: “I still couldn’t resist wanting to see you.”

Lin Zhixia raised her hand and hooked his pinky finger: “Wait one more year, and we’ll be at the same school again.”

She took the initiative to make a pinky promise with him, and he said, “School is about to start. I plan to go abroad next week.”

“Can you come back during the Christmas holiday this year?” Lin Zhixia asked cautiously.

Jiang Yubai didn’t readily agree to her request as he usually would. He pretended to hesitate: “If I can’t come back…”

Lin Zhixia patted his shoulder: “Then stay there and study hard.”

Jiang Yubai had expected to hear Lin Zhixia say “I will miss you so much,” but it seemed he had used the wrong strategy. Nevertheless, Lin Zhixia did take time out of her busy schedule to show Jiang Yubai around her university campus.

They toured every corner of the school, and she even bought him ice cream from the supermarket. They sat on a bench by the lake as waves of heat rose in the August summer. Lin Zhixia pointed to a path in front of them and said, “Every morning and evening, I pass by here. This is the path from my dormitory to the laboratory building.”

Jiang Yubai pointed to a tree nearby: “If I were this tree, I would greet you every morning and evening.”

Lin Zhixia was holding a strawberry ice cream cone, and the melting ice cream nearly dripped onto her dress: “Are you, are you writing poetry, or talking to me?”

It’s probably a love poem, Jiang Yubai thought.

So he answered: “It’s both.”

Lin Zhixia immediately declared: “I have something to tell you.”

As she smelled the strawberry fragrance, preparing to bravely confess her feelings, a group of tourists suddenly walked by—a group of parents with children. They chatted incessantly, taking photos everywhere, their laughter boisterous. The lakeside area was no longer quiet and secluded, and Lin Zhixia abandoned her idea of confession.

Jiang Yubai waited for a while, but Lin Zhixia didn’t speak. He felt as if he had missed something very important.

At noon that day, Lin Zhixia invited Jiang Yubai to have a meal at the school. After lunch, Lin Zhixia personally escorted him to the school gate and watched him get into the car. Lin Zhixia’s paper submission deadline was approaching, and Jiang Yubai was about to go abroad. They probably wouldn’t see each other again until December of that year.

The car started, the wheels raced, and they grew further and further apart.

Lin Zhixia stood on the street for a few minutes, then cast aside all sad emotions and raced back to the laboratory building, making the most of every minute.

*

The day Lin Zhixia completed the initial draft of her paper happened to be September 1st—the university’s “New Student Welcome Day.”

Deng Shasha and Feng Yuan were both volunteers for “New Student Welcome Day.” Around noon, Deng Shasha called Lin Zhixia, asking her to bring a pancake from the cafeteria. She was determined to work on the front lines, caring for every junior, and incidentally checking if the Mathematics Department had recruited any handsome guys this year.

After buying the pancake, Deng Shasha called again. Deng Shasha laughed heartily: “Heaven rewards those who persevere! I’ve found a handsome guy! He’s really good-looking, just a bit thin. The eighteen-year-old junior is so excellent…”

Then, Deng Shasha provided a live broadcast: “I saw his name, Shen Fuxuan… Oh, his friend is not bad either. I’m dying of laughter—his friend is wearing a short-sleeved shirt with our school’s emblem. They’re both from your hometown… How does your hometown produce one batch of beauties after another? I want to settle down there even after I graduate.”