The first time Ah Heng saw Yan Xi, her eyes were almost blinded.

Before coming to City B, all she knew of this prosperous city came from the precious black box kept at home. Accompanied by the unpredictable outbursts of the plum rain season, a clear and sweet female voice was exceptionally warm amid the fuzzy static.

She would often sit on a bamboo stool in front of the medicine stove, fanning herself with a palm leaf fan. Not far away, on the wooden bed lay the gentle and shy Zai Zai, whose pupils were as clear and beautiful as the glass marbles she played with as a child. Blinking his eyelashes, he would softly ask her, “Sister, today’s medicine, it’s not bitter, right?”

She would grip her fan, deliberately slowing her movements, smelling the thick medicinal bitterness, her heart troubled. Not daring to turn around, her voice would become sticky with hesitation: “Mm… not bitter…”

“Sister, if you say it’s not bitter, I believe you.” Zai Zai could see right through her, giving a gentle smile. His clear eyes were full of mirth, adding some vibrancy to his gaunt face.

So when she brought the cooled medicine to Zai Zai’s lips, she could hardly bear to look at him.

She wasn’t good at handling problems she couldn’t solve; she often chose to avoid them.

Later, when she left home to be taken to another family, she even glossed over saying goodbye, following her instincts.

From south to north, from poverty to wealth, Wen Heng refused any transition period. Put nicely, she was “naturally gentle and adaptable”; put harshly, she couldn’t escape being called “cold-hearted and ungrateful.”

The townspeople couldn’t understand. They said Yun Heng had lived with the Yun family for sixteen years, calling Yun Pa and Yun Ma “Father” and “Mother” with genuine sincerity. How could she forget their nurturing kindness once she found her birth parents?

The town head’s daughter-in-law, who ran the herbal tea shop, raised her eyebrows with a mocking smile: “Well, the Yun family only had one broken medicine stove and two exposed rooms. If her foster father lived in a government compound, forget about supporting one sick child—even if they were raising a den of tigers, just watch if that girl would leave or stay!”

That was it—Ah Heng’s real grandfather and father lived in City B’s government compound. They were such high officials that one stomp of their feet could sink their poor water town several layers deep!

Of course, Ah Heng couldn’t hear any of this talk. At that moment, she was gritting her teeth and staring hard out the car window, afraid that if she opened her mouth, she would vomit all over this luxurious car!

In her dizziness, she didn’t know how much time had passed as scenery kept flying past her eyes. Ah Heng’s mind was blank, and then her vision fixed on the gradually clearing neon lights, becoming dazzled as the sound of a rushing wind filled her ears.

When everything finally fell silent and she opened her eyes, the car door slowly opened. Long, slightly curved fingers carrying a hint of summer sunlight appeared before her.

Ah Heng admitted that at the time, she had inexplicable expectations for those hands. Looking back later, she thought she might have had some kind of imprinting syndrome.

“Welcome, Yun Heng.”

“I’m Wen Si Wan,” the youth emphasized “Wen,” his voice refreshing, “Grandfather asked me to pick you up.”

Wen Si Wan… Si Wan…

Ah Heng repeated silently. She remembered Secretary Li, who had come to Wu Shui Town to get her, mentioning that the Wen family had a boy who was her older brother.

She quietly raised her head and looked carefully at his eyes, then, noticing something, discreetly shifted her gaze away and lowered her head somewhat awkwardly.

Si Wan smiled faintly, taking her shyness in stride. With a wave of his hand, he politely bid farewell to grandfather’s secretary and naturally took the suitcase from Ah Heng’s hand.

Ah Heng watched Si Wan, his back straight, maintaining a precise distance from her—neither too far nor too close, just an arm’s length away.

A child from the remote countryside visiting the city for the first time, despite her simple nature, still possessed an extraordinary sensitivity. She could see Si Wan’s reservations, that clear rejection hidden in his eyes, so obvious it made her too uncomfortable to do anything but ignore it.

After a moment’s hesitation, she took an imperceptible deep breath, but it remained stuck in her chest.

Following Si Wan’s footsteps, her gaze slowly wandered around this so-called “government compound.”

Independent white Western-style houses were arranged neatly along the wide, even roads. The bright and clean feeling wasn’t like the gold and silver-filled place she had imagined, luxurious and readily exposing people’s desires.

It was summer, and the trees were lush. Several villas were hidden gracefully among varying shades of emerald.

When Si Wan walked onto the gravel path and his figure was gradually obscured by the large trees, Ah Heng was still in a daze. By the time she reacted, he had disappeared.

She stood frozen in place, staring stupidly at the forking gravel paths, unsure which way to go.

Fortunately, this child was naturally honest and gentle, and not easily agitated. She believed that once Si Wan noticed she wasn’t following, he would naturally return along the same path. At worst, she could always find someone to ask for directions. Wen Mu Xin—her grandfather’s name—Secretary Li had told her with certainty.

At dusk, the beautiful white building behind the trees cast its reflection on Yun Heng’s side, somewhat scalding.

Instinctively, she lifted her face, squinting at the sun-piercing eyes, and through the half-cool tree gaps, she saw a window tinted golden by the sunset.

Inside the window was a figure.

His hands were beautiful, his violin was beautiful, and the violin’s sound was sharp.

His eyes were large, his gaze proud.

His line of sight didn’t include her.

This was the first time she saw someone who made her heart pound like a drum.

Though it was just a vague silhouette, her eyes couldn’t move away. As if bewitched, she could only remain frozen in place, looking up, peering through the gaps in the trees with a subtle and tense feeling.

There stood a gentleman, quietly at the window, standing in what would become her undying memory. At this moment, however, he was just a silhouette.

Later, she often pondered what the following decade, starting with him, really meant. Most of that time was spent in unrequited love. Bitter, sweet—he had frozen time, yet that time had nothing to do with him.

Sunlight fell on her braids as Ah Heng looked up, smiling slightly.

She should have been able to hear the violin, but her ears were filled with nothing but silence, only the sound of her breathing remained, slow, as if someone had drowned her in water, losing all sensation, no longer able to cope.

Si Wan had returned to her side at some point, making a megaphone with his hands toward the window, shouting: “Ah Xi, why are you torturing people’s ears again? You got the tuning wrong!”

Yun Heng was startled by Si Wan. When she looked up again, that figure had vanished, leaving only an empty window.

Before she could react, in an instant, the window screen was pulled halfway open. In the blink of an eye, a basin of water was decisively poured onto Si Wan, precise and accurate, not a drop wasted.

Then, those fair hands quickly withdrew the pink plastic basin, and with a bang, firmly shut the window, pulled the curtains closed, like exorcising a ghost—all in one smooth motion.

This was 1998.

Ah Heng couldn’t escape fate’s blessing; at fifteen, she finally met Yan Xi.

Much later, someone asked her, “Ah Heng, be honest, didn’t you fall for that beauty right then?” Ah Heng smiled slightly: “How could that be possible?”

At that time, well, she was young and foolishly naive. She had no other thoughts, just felt that the capital’s people were truly different—even their water-throwing posture was especially arrogant, especially domineering, especially… beautiful…