Four years of university time, not too long, yet not too short.

In the blink of an eye, graduation season arrived.

Various logistics companies set up activities for shipping large luggage during the graduation season on campus.

Lan Xiaoxue called out early in the morning in the dormitory: “The shipping prices seem to be a bit cheaper today. Have you all packed your things?”

“I borrowed a cart from the next dorm, I can help pull your things over together.”

Qin Lei was tidying up her bed. The once messy bed was now empty, with only the bare bed frame remaining: “I just finished packing. Where’s your cart?”

Lan Xiaoxue: “At the door.”

After saying this, she looked toward Lin Zhexia and casually remarked: “You have so few things.”

Lin Zhexia looked at the boxes she had packed and, compared to them, she indeed had half as much.

But that was because during these four years, many of her things had unknowingly migrated to Chi Yao’s place.

Just like in high school, she and Chi Yao had gone through a new stage of life in each other’s company.

“Graduation is coming soon.” In the afternoon, Lin Zhexia walked alongside Chi Yao on campus, feeling somewhat sentimental, “My roommates have all been sending things home lately.”

Four years had passed, but time seemed to have left few marks on Chi Yao.

He was still the same as when he first entered university—slender-boned, wearing a T-shirt, looking casual, his hand holding hers, with a black hair tie around his wrist.

However, this black hair tie was no longer the original one.

The previous one had become old from being worn for so long.

Lin Zhexia had given him a new one.

On the day she replaced it, he was quite reluctant: “It can still be worn.”

Lin Zhexia: “But it’s very old… anyway, they’re all my hair ties, changing to a new one is the same.”

Four years later, he still liked to hold her hand when walking, as if he couldn’t walk without holding hands.

Hearing her somewhat melancholic words, he replied: “Stay at my place these few days.”

Lin Zhexia: “…Why go to your place?”

Chi Yao: “Out of sight, out of mind. Let them move out on their own. You won’t feel sad if you don’t see it.”

“You’re still so good with words,” Lin Zhexia said sincerely, “Four years can change many things, but it can’t change that mouth of yours.”

As they spoke, the two walked a distance.

Coincidentally, they happened to be on the path where they had confirmed their relationship back then.

The street lamp that had broken that day stood silently on both sides of the road.

Chi Yao suddenly said, “I was joking.”

“They’re leaving,” he said, “but I’m still here.”

Lin Zhexia had indeed been immersed in the sadness of parting.

Watching the dormitory gradually empty, the people who had lived together day and night, receiving job offers from companies all over, were soon to go their separate ways.

But Chi Yao’s words pulled her out of that sadness.

No matter how the world changes, there is always one thing that remains constant.

Chi Yao gripped the hand that held hers and said:

“I will always be here.”

–

Before graduation, Chi Yao had already joined a company project team a year in advance, the kind that paid a monthly salary.

Lin Zhexia had asked about it once and received the reply: “They pay too much.”

“…”

“I didn’t expect it.”

Chi Yao had one hand in his pocket: “Didn’t expect what?”

She said slowly, “I didn’t expect you to be such a materialistic person.”

After starting work, Chi Yao became busy, and the time they spent together decreased significantly.

Lin Zhexia herself was also busy looking for work and preparing for internships, but she was very fortunate that Lin He and Wei Ping never put pressure on her.

“Don’t think too much, just find a job you like, okay?”

“Your Uncle Wei and I don’t need you to support us. I’ll be satisfied as long as you can support yourself.”

Lin Zhexia worried over her resume: “Supporting myself is quite difficult too.”

She sighed and joked, “Little He, how much savings do we have at home? Can I leech off you?”

Lin He hung up directly.

In the end, she found a translation job at a publishing house. The work environment was simple, and it matched her major, so she decided to try it first.

On the day of the interview, Chi Yao pushed aside his work to accompany her.

Before going in, Lin Zhexia was very nervous: “What if I fail the interview?”

Chi Yao: “You won’t.”

Lin Zhexia: “How do you know I won’t?”

“I don’t know,” he said frankly, “I can only say that for comfort.”

“…”

This person was skilled at calming her nervousness by provoking her. Lin Zhexia’s competitive spirit was thoroughly ignited: “This resume was praised by my professor. The interviewer will surely be full of praise for me. Just wait and see.”

The corner of Chi Yao’s mouth curved slightly upward: “Mmm, I’ll wait.”

In the end, the interview was very successful.

Lin Zhexia made him buy a milk tea to celebrate.

She thought of the interviewer’s serious expression and felt a bit scared in hindsight: “What if I hadn’t passed the interview just now?”

She thought Chi Yao would say, “I would have mercilessly mocked you.”

However, Chi Yao said, “You’d still have me.”

“…” He lightly patted her head like before, “I’ll work to support you.”

Although she was touched.

Lin Zhexia still said, “I can also work hard and support you in the future. If you ever feel tired and want to rest, you can rest.”

Compared to her embarrassment, Chi Yao was quite shameless: “Are you going to keep me?”

Lin Zhexia nodded.

Chi Yao: “I’m very expensive. Most people can’t afford me.”

Lin Zhexia stopped nodding and tried to roll her eyes.

Chi Yao changed his tone: “But if it’s you, I’ll pay you to keep me.”

“Pay me,” she couldn’t figure out this calculation, “then who’s supporting whom?”

“Let’s say you’re keeping me.”

He said, “I’ll pay you to keep me.”

“That can’t be called keeping someone.”

“It can.”

“It can’t.”

“I say it can, so it can.”

“…”

This childish conversation quickly ended, but it calmed all of Lin Zhexia’s anxiety about the unknown future.

In the two or three months before graduation, she also started her internship early.

Fortunately, the workplace assigned to her by the publishing house was very close to the school, so she could return to the campus after finishing work each day.

During the internship period, nothing went smoothly.

There were too many things to learn, and more time was needed to familiarize herself with work processes.

By the time she had more or less adapted to the work rhythm, on graduation day, Lian University held a very grand graduation ceremony for their graduating class.

“It seems like there will be outstanding graduates giving speeches on stage later,” Lan Xiaoxue pulled her along to the university auditorium. “Will your brother be on stage?”

Lin Zhexia: “He didn’t tell me, so probably not. He doesn’t like such occasions.”

If Chi Yao were going on stage, he would have told her in advance.

But these past few days, he had been very mysterious.

Moreover, he didn’t like speaking on stage.

So she sat in the audience the entire time, half-listening to the school leaders’ speeches, occasionally taking out her phone to send Chi Yao a few messages.

But soon, as she kept sending messages, she noticed something was off.

-Why aren’t you replying to me

-Has your love faded?

-Are you tired of me?

-Finally

-We’ve come to this point

-…

Just as Lin Zhexia sent the last message, the host on stage began to say: “Next, let’s welcome our school’s outstanding graduate on stage—”

Lin Zhexia looked up and immediately saw the figure appearing in the center of the stage.

He seemed just like when he first entered university; as soon as he appeared, he attracted countless gazes. The lights from above the stage shone directly down, making his entire person glow.

Lin Zhexia’s seat was a bit far. She watched from a distance as Chi Yao raised his hand to adjust the microphone, one hand resting on the edge of the podium. Before speaking, his gaze swept across the audience: “First, let me say something polite. These years studying at Lian University have been very rewarding.”

At first, his speech was no different from others.

But a few minutes later, he no longer glanced at the paper in his hand and looked toward the audience instead.

“…Additionally, I’d like to borrow a few minutes of everyone’s time to do something very important to me—to propose to my girlfriend.”

Lin Zhexia suddenly froze.

Then, as if watching a slow-motion replay, she saw Chi Yao take out a black velvet ring box, open it, and inside lay a diamond ring.

Some kind of intuition told her that this ring must have been bought with the money he saved from working for a year.

“An engagement ring,” Chi Yao said amid the commotion, “Make do with it for now, I’ll get you a better one later. So, will you marry me, classmate Lin Zhexia?”

There were many people below the stage.

But these people and those sounds gradually faded away.

In her increasingly rapid heartbeat, she recalled a conversation they had when Chi Yao first went to work.

—Why did you start working so early?

—The pay is good.

It turned out that from that moment, he had been planning this.

She also thought of many things unrelated to the “proposal.”

They had attended two graduation ceremonies together.

In elementary school, Chi Yao was like an “outsider” in the class. Because he rarely came to school, he wasn’t familiar with other classmates, and even she, a transfer student, got along better. On graduation ceremony day, afraid that Chi Yao would feel too lonely and excluded, she spent her pocket money to buy a small bouquet from a flower shop.

She held the flowers and handed them to him: “Happy graduation!”

In middle school, she became the “lone person.” Having not made very compatible friends at the girls’ school, she wasn’t very enthusiastic on graduation day.

But that day, Chi Yao called her to the school gate.

“Come out for a moment.”

At that time, her class teacher was organizing the students for a photo. She held her phone, looking around in confusion: “Come out, go where?”

“School gate.”

Before the graduation photo started, she ran to the school gate and saw someone standing outside the tightly closed iron gate.

This person, from across the half-height iron fence, handed her a graduation gift.

“Your school should be holding a graduation ceremony today, too,” Lin Zhexia said, holding the gift bag. “Don’t you need to go?”

At that time, Chi Yao lied to her: “The top student has privileges.”

“…”

These fragments of memory were integrated, traversing the long span of time, all the way to the present.

“I do,” the microphone was passed from the podium back, passing around for a while, precisely into her hands. She heard her voice resounding throughout the auditorium, and she added, “Of course I do.”