This message left Qiu Xing stunned, staring at it for a long time, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Qiu Xing could only repeat the same question: [How long do you plan to stay?]

Lin Yiran didn’t reply again.

Although Lin Yiran hadn’t been in contact with Qiu Xing during this time, she had been in touch with Auntie Fang. Their relationship wasn’t affected by Qiu Xing; regardless of what happened between her and Qiu Xing, she wouldn’t cut off contact with Auntie Fang. After all, during the two years when Auntie Fang didn’t acknowledge Qiu Xing, she still accepted Lin Yiran, treating her like a daughter.

Auntie Fang had known about her volunteer teaching all along. She told Qiu Xing that Little Boat had gone to the mountains, but Qiu Xing assumed she was going with her teacher for some activity in the mountains, like when she previously went to the pastoral area.

Qiu Xing had assumed Lin Yiran had returned to school long ago, only learning today that she was still in the mountains.

“She hasn’t returned yet?” Qiu Xing was stunned and asked, “Why?”

“She’s teaching there, teaching the children in the mountains,” Fang Min said worriedly. “I don’t know what the conditions are like there. Will Little Boat be comfortable staying in the mountains? It might be very difficult.”

Qiu Xing instinctively frowned and asked, “When did she go?”

“It’s been quite a while now,” Fang Min realized and looked at him in surprise. “How do you not know?”

Qiu Xing didn’t answer, and Fang Min asked again, “You haven’t been in contact with Little Boat?”

“No,” Qiu Xing said.

“Why?” Fang Min looked at him inquiringly.

Qiu Xing either didn’t want to answer or couldn’t come up with an answer; either way, he didn’t respond.

Lin Yiran still hadn’t replied to his message. Her heart fluctuated briefly, but then returned to normal, and she stopped thinking about it.

She still had emotions clogging her heart and didn’t want to talk to him as if nothing had happened.

This separation was different from their previous one. Last time, they were both calm, due to mutual understanding. This time, they both carried anger, and the parting wasn’t entirely peaceful.

So although Lin Yiran often thought of Qiu Xing, it didn’t mean these emotions would dissipate just because she received a message from him. She didn’t want to deal with it for now.

The signal was poor in the mountains, and Lin Yiran didn’t often check her phone.

Most of her day was spent teaching the children or preparing for future classes. Everything in the mountains was simple, with few choices. The children here were eager to learn; for them, it was even a form of entertainment. Learning was the medium that could bring them closest to the outside world. All knowledge came from outside, and knowledge set no limits for them—no matter how much they learned, there was still no end, it was always available.

Here, every teacher was genuinely needed, and every pair of eyes watching them sparkled with light.

So Lin Yiran indeed had no thoughts for other matters during the day. She carried heavy expectations on her shoulders, being the children’s favorite Teacher, Little Boat.

It was very inconvenient to bring things up the mountain. Villagers used primitive methods to carry things up—baskets on their backs or carrying poles. Couriers could only deliver to the township at the foot of the mountain, and villagers would bring items up when they went down. Since Lin Yiran had arrived, she hadn’t gone down again. The school uniforms and other items she ordered online were all brought up by villagers.

Living here definitely required adjustments, such as an unstable signal, not being able to shower every day, and pit toilets. Compared to her former life, there were difficulties everywhere, but none that couldn’t be overcome.

Lin Yiran could accept this place well because, beyond the difficult conditions, there was vibrant vitality and hope.

Time here was slow and long, but every minute that passed was imbued with anticipation, making it more valuable.

Occasionally, when Lin Yiran picked up her phone, she could see that Qiu Xing had called her. It had been quite a while, and Lin Yiran hadn’t called him back.

It wasn’t that she deliberately avoided answering. If the calls had come when Lin Yiran heard them, she would have answered, though her attitude might not have been very warm. But she wouldn’t have kept ignoring his calls.

Anyway, Qiu Xing wasn’t persistent. He didn’t call many times in total, and when Lin Yiran didn’t answer, he stopped calling.

After staying for a while, Lin Yiran’s daily necessities were almost used up. Her sunscreen was gone, and there was only enough shampoo for two more uses.

She didn’t plan to leave yet. There were no classes in her third year of graduate studies. Lin Yiran had two papers to write, and her teacher wanted her to focus on her creative work for the remaining time. Lin Yiran enjoyed the simple life here. The mountains gave her surging inspiration, calming her heart and allowing her to touch deeper, more vast realms that she couldn’t reach before.

Learning she didn’t plan to leave yet, her senior was delighted and said she would take her down the mountain to buy some things.

A student brought her a newly woven back basket from home. After Lin Yiran put it on, her senior took a photo of her.

Lin Yiran hadn’t brought a single dress here. She wore short-sleeved shirts and casual pants every day. With the basket on her back, turning around with a bright smile, although she still didn’t quite match the mountain atmosphere, she exuded a natural vitality that made people feel affinity and resilience.

However, despite plans to go down the mountain, they couldn’t due to the weather. The mountains had frequent rain, and days of rainfall had made the mountain paths slippery. Without urgent matters, people generally wouldn’t go down the mountain in such weather. Several students didn’t live in the same village and usually went home on weekends. This week, the school didn’t let them leave, fearing it would be unsafe and accidents might occur.

During bad weather, the signal was also poor. Lin Yiran’s signal had been intermittent these days, let alone internet access. She was almost in a state of disconnection from the outside world, occasionally replying to a few messages when signal returned, then going back to being out of touch.

The mountains and rain isolated them in this small square little school. Although dilapidated, it provided adequate shelter from wind and rain.

One afternoon when the electricity suddenly went out, they decided not to have classes. The few teachers led more than a dozen students in a small gathering in the classroom, lighting candles, singing songs, telling stories, and playing games. The principal had a paper note stuck on the back of his head by some mischievous child. When he stood up, the classroom erupted in laughter. The children’s laughter was clear and loud, their small faces illuminated by the dim candlelight, all bearing smiles, their eyes reflecting the flame’s light.

Lin Yiran sat on a small wooden stool to the side, resting her chin on her palm, quietly smiling as she watched them.

This was an afternoon that would remain vivid in Lin Yiran’s memory for many years to come.

Not only because rain was falling outside, with wind making the doors and windows clatter loudly, while this simple little classroom in the mountains was warm and joyful; but also because, on this rainy day when they couldn’t even go down the mountain, with wind causing electrical faults—on such a stormy afternoon—

Qiu Xing arrived.

*

There were voices outside, and since everyone from the school was in this classroom, the speakers could only be outsiders.

The principal got up to open the door and look. Since Lin Yiran was sitting by the door, she instinctively turned to look when the principal opened it.

This glance left her stunned, her eyes widening in surprise.

After the principal went out and closed the door, Lin Yiran didn’t immediately turn back.

Although wearing a huge raincoat with the hood pulled over his head, revealing only half his face, Lin Yiran knew it was Qiu Xing almost instantly.

Coming along was the village chief’s son, who brought the person over, shouted something to the principal, and then left under a large umbrella.

Almost no outsiders came to the school, especially in such terrible weather. The principal went over with an umbrella, about to ask what he was doing here, when Qiu Xing got straight to the point: “Is Lin Yiran here?”

His expression wasn’t exactly friendly, and his tone was ordinary, but when the principal heard he was looking for Lin Yiran, he answered very kindly: “Yes, yes, she is.”

Qiu Xing asked, “Where is she?”

The principal pointed to the classroom and told Qiu Xing, “She’s over there.”

As Qiu Xing was about to go over, the door opened from inside, and Lin Yiran and Qiu Xing made eye contact.

Qiu Xing stopped, just standing there staring at her. His eyes had a long-absent hint of fierceness as he stood there silently. Being glared at like this, Lin Yiran’s eyes showed some bewilderment.

She closed the door, opened a large umbrella, and ran over to Qiu Xing.

“Qiu Xing?” she called out questioningly, then asked, “How did you get here?”

Qiu Xing’s lips were tightly closed, his jaw forming a sharp line. He only looked down at her and didn’t answer.

Huge raindrops pattered on the umbrella and raincoat, creating a fine drumming in their ears. The principal invited them inside, telling them not to stand in the rain.

Lin Yiran took Qiu Xing back to her room. The principal didn’t follow, letting them talk in private.

As the door closed, Lin Yiran seemed to come to her senses.

After their last meeting at the school, she hadn’t seen Qiu Xing again. Now, with Qiu Xing suddenly appearing here, Lin Yiran felt not only bewildered but inevitably stirred.

This was their first meeting since they separated, and Lin Yiran momentarily didn’t know how to face him.

“Why did you come?” Lin Yiran asked again.

Lin Yiran put the umbrella by the door. Qiu Xing was soaked, and his shoes were completely wet.

“Where’s your phone?” Qiu Xing asked in return.

His eyebrows were furrowed, his voice deep, and his tone indicated he was about to get angry. Lin Yiran looked at his face, instinctively felt her pocket, didn’t find her phone, then walked around Qiu Xing to look by her pillow, pulling it out from underneath.

“There’s no signal, so I didn’t keep it with me,” Lin Yiran answered obediently, though she still couldn’t figure out why Qiu Xing was angry.

“No signal the whole time?” Qiu Xing asked again.

Lin Yiran remembered those unanswered calls from Qiu Xing and pressed her lips together without answering.

“You don’t know your phone has been unreachable for days?” Qiu Xing still had furrowed brows, saying in an unfriendly tone, “First not answering, then unreachable—did someone sell you to the mountains?”

“I…” Lin Yiran raised her eyes to look at him, wanting to say she hadn’t deliberately ignored him, and also that it was quite safe here, but the words reached her lips and were swallowed back. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, as long as you weren’t sold,” Qiu Xing said coldly. “Just stay here.”

Regardless of the reason, the fact that Qiu Xing had specifically come such a long way to find her, traveling up the mountain in such weather, made Lin Yiran feel very apologetic.

She sincerely apologized to Qiu Xing: “I’m sorry, Qiu Xing… I didn’t deliberately want to worry anyone. It’s quite safe here, and not many people try to contact me. I didn’t expect this, I’m sorry.”

Compared to others, indeed, fewer people looked for her. Her teachers didn’t normally contact her, the editors she worked with didn’t reach out daily, and the few friends who knew she was in an area with poor signal didn’t often try to find her. Unlike others who had to report to their parents daily when away from home, Lin Yiran had no parents. She had once thought that if something were to happen to her outside, it might take longer for her to be discovered than it would for others.

“Not many people look for you,” Qiu Xing asked her, “so you have nobody outside anymore, right?”

Lin Yiran immediately replied, “There’s Auntie Fang. I was afraid she’d worry, so I told her in advance that I might not have signal for a while.” She asked guiltily, “Was Auntie Fang worried about me?”

Lin Yiran was innocent; she had notified people in advance. But with Qiu Xing standing before her, Lin Yiran still felt she had done something wrong.

Qiu Xing didn’t speak anymore, and Lin Yiran said, “Take off your raincoat first.”

Qiu Xing removed his raincoat, bundled it up, and tossed it by the door. Lin Yiran saw he had a hiking backpack on his back.

“How did you find this place?” Lin Yiran asked softly, then figured it out herself and asked, “Keke told you, right? She’s been here before.”

Qiu Xing took off his backpack and placed it on the ground by the table. It made a muffled sound as he set it down, suggesting it had some weight.

Qiu Xing looked around the room. The wooden structure had an old, musty smell. The interior was simply arranged, with a single bed against the wall, covered by a mosquito net.

Lin Yiran pulled a chair closer, offering it to Qiu Xing. Qiu Xing didn’t stand on ceremony; coming up the mountain in such weather wasn’t easy. He sat down silently, leaning against the chair back.

In the small room, Qiu Xing’s presence became very pronounced when he sat there.

Qiu Xing’s aura gradually rolled up, the familiar warmth and steadiness that Lin Yiran knew well. She suddenly felt somewhat awkward because they no longer had any relationship that justified being together.

They had once been infinitely intimate, but now Lin Yiran wasn’t even sure what attitude to take when speaking to him.

When Qiu Xing spoke again, his voice wasn’t as cold, just indifferent.

“I won’t look for you if you don’t want to talk to me,” Qiu Xing glanced at her and said, “Just let my mom know every couple of days. She’s more attached to you than to me, you know that.”

Lin Yiran lowered her eyes and nodded.

Qiu Xing gestured toward the hiking backpack with his chin and said, “I’ll leave when the rain stops. I brought these things for you—Zhou Keke said you might need them. I can stay in the area for a few days. If you need anything else, let me know, and I’ll deliver it one more time before I go back.”

Lin Yiran’s nose stung, but she didn’t want to show it. She turned away, took a deep breath, and unzipped the backpack.

The first things she saw in the bag were many bottles of purified water, along with various other items scattered around.

Sunscreen, skincare products, towels, anti-inflammatory medicine, and other things are pressed at the bottom, not immediately visible.

“In this remote place, take good care of yourself,” Qiu Xing said without emotion.