A six-year relationship ended. From now on, Lin Yiran no longer carried a relationship disguised as a transaction on her shoulders. She had become completely free.

Yet when this relationship was truly severed, it didn’t bring the refreshing sense of liberation one might expect. Instead, it left an emptiness in her heart, and even thinking about it caused pain.

At first, along with the sadness and momentary anger, it wasn’t so obvious. But as time passed and other emotions gradually settled, that little bit of pain magnified, making the sadness more profound when she thought about it.

That relationship had been Lin Yiran’s invisible pillar for six years, a support in her heart that she never spoke of to others. Now that it was suddenly gone, she felt uncomfortable, like a damaged tendon or broken bone.

In July, after the end of the semester, Lin Yiran dragged a suitcase alone, carrying a few sets of light clothes and her computer, to a mountainous area in the south. She decided to do something more meaningful during this long vacation.

A senior schoolmate was teaching there as a volunteer, and this was already her third year staying there. When she heard Lin Yiran was coming, the senior was very excited. She often wanted friends to visit, hoping the children there could meet more people from outside and see that more teachers were willing to teach them.

When she heard Lin Yiran was coming, she happily prepared a room in advance. The day Lin Yiran arrived, she went down the mountain to pick her up.

The plane flew to the city, then there was a two-hour journey on a green-skinned train to reach the county town. The senior waited for her in the county town, and afterward, they took a van, spending more than an hour going up the mountain. After getting off the vehicle, they still had to walk a mountain path for nearly an hour before reaching the small school.

The school consisted of two rows of old brick buildings—one side contained classrooms and office areas, while the other side had dormitories.

Between the two rows of single-story buildings was a small playground with a flagpole in the middle. Everything was dilapidated, yet the national flag was bright red and vibrant.

The senior looked much more haggard than she had in school. She had darkened, her skin had roughened, but the light in her eyes still shone brightly. She explained to Lin Yiran: “There are nineteen students here in total. Six are in middle school, and the rest are in elementary school. They all go home on weekends. Including me, there are three teachers here. Teacher Zhang is the English teacher, and the principal and I split the other subjects. Although there aren’t many students, they’re in different grades. Some classes can be taught together, but others need to be separated, so we schedule many classes every day. It’s not easy.

“But what can we do? There are no teachers. The school should have been closed long ago, but if it closes, these students won’t have a school to attend. Most of them are left-behind children with only elderly relatives at home. They don’t have the means to go to school elsewhere. The principal is persevering to let them learn more, but who knows how long we can keep going.”

Lin Yiran looked around at this small, dilapidated place that barely qualified as a school, feeling deeply moved, unable to speak.

The senior said: “The farthest these children have ever been is the county town we just came from. They’re very innocent, with simple thoughts. Of course, a few are a bit naughty, but they listen to reason. When I first came here, I only planned to stay for a few months. Having volunteer teaching experience would be good for my future teaching career, you know. But then I couldn’t leave, and I thought I’d wait until another teacher came to replace me. One year turned into another, and now here we are.”

She smiled at Lin Yiran and said helplessly, “I don’t know when another teacher will come. I feel like I’m becoming disconnected from the outside world.”

Lin Yiran thought about the senior’s boyfriend who studied software engineering. Seeing that she hadn’t mentioned him, she tentatively asked: “What about your boyfriend?”

“Him? He’s out there making money. I only get that small amount each month, which isn’t enough for what I contribute to the school. Someone has to earn money, right? He comes during his breaks, but they’re few and far between.” The senior pushed open the dormitory door and said with a smile, “Ta-da! This is the room I prepared for you—the best one here, a luxury business king-sized bed!”

Lin Yiran looked at the 1.2-meter “business king-sized bed” in the room and also started laughing.

She settled in here, teaching the children during the day and writing in her small room at night.

The distance kept all distractions away. Life here was regular but not dull. Everything became very simple, and time seemed to slow down.

When immersed in pure nature, among the spiritual energy of mountains and rivers, one’s mind experiences a kind of open clarity. Her heart became very peaceful, as if purified by the mountains, rivers, and those pure souls.

The children here yearned for the outside world. They spoke of it with both longing and trepidation. Lin Yiran taught them the Chinese language and art. They loved Teacher Little Boat so much; she was the gentlest sister they had ever met. Teacher Xiao Xu was good too, but sometimes she shouted and could be fierce. Teacher Little Boat always spoke with a smile, so, so soft and beautiful.

She was like a beautiful fairy gleaming with light from their dreams, bringing love and kindness from the outside world just like their Teacher Xiao Xu.

Their eyes were full of joy and attachment when looking at her. During breaks, they would gather around her, asking all kinds of questions while expressing their affection for her.

When another reprinted royalty payment came through, Lin Yiran used the money to order many sets of school uniforms online, printed with the “Xiushan School” logo. She also bought many extracurricular books suitable for various age groups, along with many pens and study supplies. She specifically bought underwear and sanitary products for those few girls who were developing.

She could somewhat understand why her senior stayed here year after year.

*

“Teacher Little Boat?” A small head peeked out from the window. The little girl had lotus-leaf-style hair, dark skin, and a tiny voice. “Teacher Little Boat… are you there?”

“I’m here.” Lin Yiran responded, turning around and asking with a smile, “Looking for me?”

“Teacher Little Boat, come here.” The door was open with only a screen door closed, but the little girl didn’t come in. She just waved from outside.

“Coming!” Lin Yiran walked over and opened the door to see her holding a large leaf in her hands.

“My grandma steamed some yellow rice cakes with sugar. They’re sweet… I wanted you to try them.” She held them with both hands, looking at Lin Yiran carefully yet hopefully, and asked, “Have you had them before?”

Lin Yiran made a “Wow” sound, squatted down, and answered her: “I haven’t. What do they taste like?”

Having just washed her hands, she directly pinched one and took a bite, her eyes curving into crescents as she said: “Delicious. Thank you, Jinjin.”

The girl’s eyes immediately brightened, and she smiled shyly, somewhat embarrassed.

The little girl’s name was Li Xiaojin. She was nine years old, a very sensitive and delicate little girl with an obedient and sensible personality. At home, there were only her and her grandmother. Her mother had passed away, and her father worked away from home year-round, rarely returning. Her grandmother was a very small, thin old woman with graying hair and a severely hunched back.

When Lin Yiran first arrived, she always hid, unwilling to make eye contact or talk. Lin Yiran had spoken to her alone several times, but she would only nod or shake her head without responding. Lin Yiran thought she didn’t like her much.

Later, there was a time when she kept following behind Lin Yiran. When Lin Yiran turned around to ask what was wrong, she wouldn’t say. After a while, when Lin Yiran wasn’t paying attention, she reached out and caught a huge mollusk that was crawling on her. When Lin Yiran turned around, she still saw it and was caught off guard, letting out a low scream.

The little girl seemed more flustered than she did. She threw the bug on the ground and stomped on it several times, then looked up at Lin Yiran in distress and said: “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, Teacher Little Boat… don’t cry.”

Lin Yiran was still recovering from the shock. She took a deep breath and said: “Thank you, Jinjin. You’re so brave. Thank you for helping me. Without Jinjin, I would have cried from fear.”

The little girl lowered her head, stammering without saying anything.

Since then, she often followed Lin Yiran around, helping her wave away flying insects and mosquitoes, fetching water, and carrying things.

Her quiet thoughtfulness made Lin Yiran’s heart ache, and among all the children, she favored her the most.

Lin Yiran sat on a small stool at the doorway, sharing those sticky yellow rice cakes with her.

After Li Xiaojin left, Lin Yiran continued sitting there, resting her chin on her palm, watching the sunset for a while.

The sunset glow here was beautiful. Lin Yiran often sat quietly here in the evening to watch the setting sun. Sometimes she would also come out at night to look at the stars, but there were too many mosquitoes at night, so she had to spray a lot of repellent.

The mosquitoes here were fierce. Their bites caused large, red swellings, and Lin Yiran’s body already bore many dark marks from unhealed mosquito bites since her arrival.

But the stars in the mountain area were too beautiful. Lin Yiran often couldn’t resist coming out to look during breaks in her writing or before sleep.

The endless darkness wasn’t frightening; rather, it made the stars and moon appear even brighter.

Occasionally, when looking at the starry sky, Lin Yiran would recall the various night skies she and Qiu Xing had seen on the road that year.

Qiu Xing had fallen asleep in the back, and she leaned against the car window, looking up at the stars. There was a mosquito coil burning in the car, and she dared not make a sound because Qiu Xing slept lightly—the slightest noise could wake him.

But Qiu Xing was too tired, and Lin Yiran always wanted to let him sleep a little longer.

They weren’t familiar then, or rather, they weren’t that intimate.

Once, late at night when Qiu Xing was asleep, Lin Yiran sat watching the stars. A fuel thief came by, not expecting anyone to be sitting there at that hour, and unexpectedly caught her eye. Lin Yiran still remembered that the person wore a blue and white striped short-sleeved shirt and looked like a bad character.

Lin Yiran had called out “Qiu Xing” in panic.

The person outside cursed at her with a very offensive word.

Qiu Xing immediately sat up, quickly moved to the driver’s seat, said “It’s okay,” and then jumped out of the car.

Lin Yiran didn’t dare go down at that time and could only lean against the car window to look down. But because of Qiu Xing’s “It’s okay,” she truly didn’t feel panicked anymore.

She always trusted Qiu Xing without reservation. Even though Qiu Xing’s shoulders were thin back then, Lin Yiran felt he could support anything. He was like a big house that wouldn’t collapse.

The mountains brought her peace, making everything outside seem hazy and distant.

But she still often thought of Qiu Xing.

Not just when looking at the stars, but at many times, she would suddenly think of Qiu Xing. To Lin Yiran, Qiu Xing was still like that big house, always there.

Lin Yiran didn’t stop herself from thinking about Qiu Xing. She always allowed herself to feel all her emotions. Concealment couldn’t hide everything, and occasionally revealed traces would make one even more flustered.

The grown-up Little Boat Lin always faced her heart openly.

*

They didn’t contact each other, but they weren’t destined to never interact again.

Although they parted with anger, those solid six years of companionship wouldn’t truly vanish just because the relationship ended.

Even if one day, time took away everything about love—the disputes, the regrets—leaving only old scars, they would still occupy irreplaceable positions in each other’s hearts.

It would be an old but soft part, an imprint of six years, a space carefully preserved even when it no longer had anything to do with love.

However, the premise of careful preservation was that love had been taken away by time.

Now, time hadn’t taken anything away yet, so whenever Lin Yiran thought of Qiu Xing, especially under the boundless starry sky in complete silence, Lin Yiran would be overwhelmed by various emotions, not composed at all.

So on the day she received Qiu Xing’s message, after her initial surprise and much deliberation, Lin Yiran replied two hours later—

[Who is this?]