“Luan Nian, I want to start from my first year in Beijing.” Shang Zhitao held Luan Nian’s hand. “Please don’t think I’m talking too much, okay? I want to chat with you today.”
I came to Beijing when I was 22. I still remember that day, my first day in Beijing. It was raining, and I dragged my suitcase out of the train station to see crowds of people. Everyone was walking hurriedly, no one glanced at me. I held a map with a few lines written on it—directions I had researched in advance from the train station to my rental room. Standing alone in an unfamiliar station in an unfamiliar city, I suddenly felt extremely anxious. I didn’t know what awaited me; I was a bit scared, yet also excited.
I’m most grateful for being able to move into that room because there, I met my friends—Sun Yu, Zhang Lei, and Sun Yuanzhu, whose name I still don’t dare mention.
That summer, on my first day of work, I sat on the first floor of Lingmei waiting to complete my onboarding procedures. You pushed open the coffee shop door and walked out, like a deity from ancient times. I thought then, how could there be such a man in this world? Yet this man, on our first meeting, advised me to quit my job, and most importantly, I thought he was right.
I’ve never been a person with grand ambitions for life. But this dog of a man sparked my fighting spirit. Hey, don’t pinch my face—I’m telling the truth. I thought you were a dog of a man back then.
My colleagues spoke a mix of Chinese and English, and I couldn’t understand much of it. I became increasingly panicked, thinking if I couldn’t communicate, I would eventually be fired! Fortunately, I had Lu Mi and Tracy, who always encouraged me. My friend found an English teacher for me from his alma mater. That English teacher had an imposing Chinese name: Long Zhentian.
Long Zhentian taught me many things. We explored Beijing’s streets and alleys together on weekends. Not every weekend, because sometimes I had to work overtime. My first business trip was with you, Lu Mi, and Grace to Guangzhou. In the following years, coincidentally, I would go to Guangzhou at the same time each year, so Guangzhou became a city I loved deeply.
That year, I found work incredibly difficult. I knew nothing, could do nothing, and had to learn everything from scratch. And you always looked at me with those eyes, as if saying, “How can you be so stupid?”
Despite this, I still fell in love with you. Many girls at Lingmei liked you, Kitty, too. One day, Lu Mi and I were walking downstairs when we heard Kitty on the phone saying, “I like my boss.” I don’t feel ashamed of such affection because liking someone is a wonderful thing.
The first year was chaotic, and I lacked experience. Many things that seemed catastrophic then appear trivial to me now.
During the New Year that year, sitting in my old house in Ice City, looking at the lights in countless homes, I suddenly missed you terribly. You made me feel lonely.
Before I knew it, the second year arrived.
Life seemed a bit easier in the second year, and I seemed a bit stronger. Several things happened during these years that made me happy. This year had many firsts.
I had my first trip with my friends. We went to Mount Tai. We started climbing at midnight and reached the top by early morning. We were very lucky that day—we saw the sunrise. The sea of clouds was ethereal, too beautiful. My friends and I took many photos that I still keep today. Do you know? Sometimes when I look at those photos and then at myself now, I can see the traces left by time. We were all young then, not needing fancy clothes or heavy makeup to look beautiful. I especially loved that trip.
That year, I went abroad for the first time with colleagues to Phuket. I watched the sea with you there. The sunrise was so beautiful. I hope to watch countless sunrises and sunsets with you in this lifetime. My feelings for you then were like those of someone who had never been in love before—offering a completely whole heart.
Also that year, my first boss changed jobs. He wanted to poach me to join him. You said he only wanted me because I was cheap and obedient, which made me sad for a very long time. It was then I suddenly understood that I should view myself correctly and be responsible for each of my decisions.
That year, I encountered a fraudulent rental agent. I was terrified, even doubting the world a bit—how could there be such bad people? Going with my roommates to confront them, we, in our naivety, didn’t understand the dangers of society. In the end, we still needed your help. Oh right, Lu Mi wanted to wreck their shop for me.
The most joyful thing that year was adopting Luke. Yes, I know you knew all along that I named him Luke because I loved “Luke,” and Luke was my favorite, irreplaceable. Luke was so adorable as a puppy. Do you remember how he looked? Like a little snowball running to you, rubbing against your pant leg. He even urinated in your home. You were so disgusted with him then. But I never found Luke disgusting; I loved him so much. He could understand what I said and would always accompany me. Sometimes I would scold him, and what would he do? Always sticks out his tongue and smiles at me. Luke is the only thing in this life that completely belongs to me. I love him too much. When you weren’t by my side, Luke was my “Luke.” But I would also feel sad. My greatest sorrow is watching Luke grow older day by day. I know he doesn’t have much time left, and whenever I think about this, I can’t control my tears.
Shang Zhitao lowered her head to wipe away tears. As we experience more in life, our hearts become numbed by the passage of time. Yet there are always certain people and things that can easily make us cry. We call these the “soft spots” that remain in our hearts.
Luan Nian handed her a tissue and said, “I’ve taken Luke for check-ups, and Dr. Liang has examined him too. He says Luke’s internal organs are in good condition. He should live another four or five years without any problem.”
“Don’t comfort me. I know. I check about the lifespan of large dogs every day.”
Luan Nian stopped talking. Everyone knew he had a dog son. It was hard for anyone to imagine that someone like him would love a dog so much. But he truly loved Luke.
After a very long time, Shang Zhitao stopped crying.
I don’t like the third year.
Because in the third year, an especially disgusting person appeared. I still feel sick thinking about him now. I saw Kitty go into his room, yet he sent messages to me. He also bullied other female colleagues. He was so revolting. Colleagues from Chengdu would tremble in fear when talking about him. That year, I often had nightmares featuring his ugly face. My friends taught me how to collect evidence and encouraged me to report him. I did so, and I don’t regret it.
You know, Luan Nian, I don’t regret it at all. I’m very grateful that this year, I discovered I could perhaps be a brave person—someone brave enough to stand up against authority.
That day when you walked into his office and grabbed him by the neck, my heart nearly shattered. Strange, I felt heartache for myself and you. I knew your sadness was genuine. Luan Nian, from that moment on, I was certain you had an especially soft heart. It’s just that this heart is wrapped in a hard shell, invisible to others, and sometimes overlooked even by yourself.
Also, I particularly loved the “Brave Heart” cocktail you mixed for me. Truly, it was the best cocktail I’ve ever tasted in my life.
In the fourth year, I finally moved to the planning department, learning under Grace. Grace was a good person then, though I underestimated the complexity of human nature at the time. This year, like the first, I kept learning continuously. I don’t have many memories of this year. I remember calling you from Mount Wutai, very seriously asking if you wanted to be with me. We began an ordinary romance.
And you rejected me.
I still remember the night view of Victoria Harbour. It was truly beautiful.
By the fifth year, I went to the Northwest. I thought that going there would make it difficult to see you again. But you came almost whenever you had time. The county town was small; we were afraid of running into acquaintances outside, so we stayed in my rental room for a day or two at a time. The wind in the Northwest was indeed strong, taxis in the county town were truly cheap, and the people of the Northwest were so nice. I enjoyed working on that project in the Northwest.
“Why did you come every week?” Shang Zhitao suddenly asked him.
“Because we said we would venture together, and I keep my word.”
They lay facing each other, having talked for a very long time. Yet Shang Zhitao didn’t feel tired; she still had much more to say.
“In the fifth year, we went to Tibet together,” Luan Nian said.
“Yes.”
I loved Tibet.
The sunlight in Lhasa was wonderful, the people on the streets had warm smiles, the milk tea was rich, and the photographer at that photo studio was truly skilled.
I loved that trip. I even thought that after that journey, we would have a love that lasted forever.
Shang Zhitao bit her lip.
The sixth year was her most painful. If there was any year in her life she couldn’t overcome, it would be the sixth. Failing the job competition wasn’t that painful; it was just a blow to her self-esteem. The most painful part was that day when the clouds were so beautiful, yet she lost her best friend.
Luan Nian held her hand.
They remained in long silence in the dimness. This silence was also a medicine, healing the mottled wounds in her heart. Initially, the wound was deep, then it scabbed, the scab fell off, and it became shallower, almost invisible. But when you touched it, you could still feel it was different from the surrounding skin. It must have experienced tremendous pain.
Shang Zhitao’s tears fell onto Luan Nian’s palm: “That year, I left you.”
I’m very glad I truly left you, even though I never want to experience such pain a second time. When I returned, it was winter. Ice City had heavy snow, and my heart felt empty, impossible to fill. Every night, I would go out and walk far in the snow, listening to random songs on my headphones. One day, I saw a man in the lobby of a hotel near my home, wearing a black cashmere coat, with a haughty demeanor and a distant figure. I thought it was you and nearly broke down.
“It was me,” Luan Nian said softly.
But I didn’t dare confirm it then, fearing all my efforts would be in vain.
I started my business in the seventh year.
Starting a business was truly difficult. Late nights, social obligations, enormous pressure—for a period, my health suffered. My period would either not come or last half a month. One day, when I walked into the company, Fu Dong was startled to see me. He said, “Boss, that day you looked completely lifeless.”
My temper worsened, and I would cry in secret.
Fortunately, business gradually improved, and I finally let go of you and began a new life.
The restaurant I opened for my parents served dishes I loved to eat, ones I had enjoyed since childhood. I liked to bring my friends to the old tavern for meals. Worried they might not find it, I hung lanterns at the entrance. Those lanterns looked so festive in the snow of Ice City. When Sun Yu and Lu Mi first saw it, they told me, “This is truly a human realm in the snow.”
I like this phrase “human realm in the snow.” It makes me feel that all happiness and pain are part of life itself, and pain is like a lantern in the snow, illuminating the path ahead with a bright red glow.
In the tenth year, I met you again.
“I know the story after that,” Luan Nian brushed aside the hair on her cheek. “I’ve been part of your everyday since then.”
“Thank you for treating me well.”
“And thank you for loving someone like me.”
These are my ten-plus years. I’ve shed countless tears, each one a medal bestowed by life, and I’ve never regretted it. Today during the ribbon-cutting, you said to me, “Shang Zhitao, welcome back to Beijing.” All these years of memories flooded into my mind at once. I came to Beijing with dreams, left Beijing with a broken heart, thinking I would never return. Even if I did, I would only be a passerby in this city, not staying long. But I did come back. I will always remember how I looked on my first day in Beijing—despite being in a sorry state, it was the best time of my life.
If I could choose again, I would still take this path. This path has been truly beautiful. I only occasionally regret that time passes in a flash, fellow travelers hurry by, and we always have to say goodbye.
“Luan Nian, are you tired? I’m sorry I’ve talked too much today. If you’re tired, let’s sleep,” Shang Zhitao said to him.
“I’m not tired. It’s not dawn yet,” Luan Nian said. Shang Zhitao rested her head on his arm. Nian Tao slept soundly in her crib, Luke lay at the doorway, and a strand of moonlight entered—what a wonderful moment.
“Then let me chat with you about myself,” Luan Nian said.
“Chat about what?”
“About the self-cultivation of a jerk.”
“Sure. We can talk until dawn, even until the next dawn. I think this jerk isn’t always such a jerk. This jerk is an old-fashioned gentleman wrapped in a jerk’s exterior, with old-fashioned gentleness. I truly love this jerk to death. I’m willing to keep entangled with this jerk forever, until death.”
So let’s talk a bit more!