CS - 56

In those few short seconds of eye contact, it felt like a long time had passed.

The guitarist on stage finished his piece, and for a moment, the entire bar fell silent.

Through this brief silence, Lin Zhexia finally found her voice: “... Why are you here?”

The next second.

She realized an impossible reason.

“Did you apply to Lian University?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you have gone to Jing University...?”

Chi Yao interrupted her with one sentence: “When did I ever say I was going to Jing University?”

“...”

He hadn’t said that.

Lin Zhexia remembered that she hadn’t dared to ask.

So why would he choose Lian University?

Lin Zhexia wanted to ask him what major he had applied for, since the physics department at Jing University was the most renowned.

But before she could ask, a new band took the stage, and deafening rock music immediately filled the bar—

She was jolted by the sudden burst of rock music.

Chi Yao walked up to her, leaning down so she could hear him over the noise. His chin brushed against her neck as he almost whispered in her ear: “Where’s your seat?”

“Over there,” Lin Zhexia pointed. “But I need to go to the restroom.”

Chi Yao pointed out the restroom sign, and she murmured an “Oh,” walking off in a daze.

A few minutes later, as she washed her hands while looking in the mirror, she slowly processed what had just happened.

She recalled the message Chi Yao had sent her earlier that afternoon: “Where are you now.”

So at that time, he was also at Lian University for freshman registration?

...

After washing her hands and stepping out, Chi Yao was waiting for her in the corridor.

The young man leaned against the wall, his knuckles holding a cigarette. She hadn’t noticed earlier in the dim light, but after more than a year, some changes had occurred in Chi Yao.

The sharp edge that once radiated from him had softened slightly. He still gave off an air of arrogance, but now that arrogance carried a depth she couldn’t quite decipher.

Perhaps not expecting her to come out so quickly, Chi Yao paused for a moment, then immediately stubbed out the cigarette.

Lin Zhexia walked up to him, smelling the lingering scent of smoke in the air: “When did you start smoking?”

Chi Yao rubbed his dry index finger joint. It was rare for him to feel caught red-handed in front of Lin Zhexia: “About half a year ago.”

“Why,” she asked again, “Why did you start smoking?”

Chi Yao didn’t hide it from her. After a brief silence, he said, “Half a year ago, my mom’s condition worsened suddenly after surgery, and my dad’s issues hadn’t been resolved. Every day after leaving school, I had to go to the hospital to watch over her. And for a while, her mental state wasn’t good.”

These were things he had never mentioned to her online, fearing she would worry.

“During that time, I stayed in the ward at night and didn’t sleep well.”

He only told her half the story, leaving the rest unsaid.

What he didn’t say was that during that time, both he and Lin Zhexia were busy, and their communication had dwindled. On nights when he couldn’t sleep, he sat in the hospital corridors, scrolling through their increasingly sparse chat history, wanting to talk to her but fearing he’d disturb her studies.

And telling her these things would only make her worry alongside him, serving no purpose.

Then one day, he went to the convenience store downstairs and impulsively bought a pack of cigarettes.

Facing the dawn, he sat on a bench near the hospital and took his first drag. The harsh taste of tobacco filled his lungs.

Lin Zhexia remained silent for a long time.

More than anger, she felt heartache and sadness.

Before this unexpected meeting, she thought the year-long gap between them would bring silence.

But after seeing each other, she realized that what stood between them wasn’t silence—it was a genuine experience that the other couldn’t share. Moreover, during this period, subtle changes had occurred in both of them.

It was clear that that time must have been very difficult.

So Lin Zhexia had no right to criticize his behavior.

Finally, she asked a question she had wanted to ask earlier: “Why did you come to Lian University? What major did you apply for? Jing University’s physics department is much better.”

After saying this, she genuinely began to feel a bit angry about the matter. She remembered how Chi Yao hadn’t gone to No. 1 High School back then, and she had guessed it was because he didn’t want to be too far from home. Now, she couldn’t find any other reasons and could only conclude that he probably didn’t want to stay in Jing City: “Even if you thought you’d lived in Lianyun for so long and weren’t used to Jing City’s environment, you should have considered it properly. College applications are very important—much more important than the environment. Teachers emphasized the impact of college applications on our future, and you love physics so much—”

Lin Zhexia got stuck on the “you.”

She wasn’t good at arguing, so she finally blurted out: “How could you do this? Didn’t Uncle and Auntie stop you?”

“I applied for the top program in the country,” Chi Yao looked at her. Her earlier anger made him feel a little better, and he smirked, lightly pressing his hand on her head: “Why would they stop me?”

“... Huh?”

“What’s going on in your head?”

Chi Yao raised his hand, just like before, gently resting it on her head: “Do you think physics only has a few options? I don’t want to pursue research. Lian University’s Systems Engineering and Science program isn’t inferior to Jing University’s—it offers more flexibility.”

Interest was interest.

When it came to majors, the considerations were no longer so simple.

Moreover, after watching Chi Hanshan struggle this year, he had already realized that he too carried responsibilities on his shoulders.

He had discussed it with Chi Hanshan.

At the time, Chi Hanshan had told him: “You don’t need to think too much. Just apply for something you like.”

Chi Yao said: “I don’t dislike this major.”

After a pause, he added: “And… there’s an important friend in Lianyun.”

Fathers and sons were often not good at expressing themselves. In the end, Chi Hanshan consulted the homeroom teacher and simply said: “If you like it, then it’s fine. I’ve also asked your teacher; they said this major at Lian University is pretty good. There’s even a famous professor teaching in that department. You’ve grown up in Lianyun City, so you’re more adapted to it. Your mother and I aren’t forcing you to stay in Jing City—you can choose for yourself.”

“...”

Lin Zhexia was stunned.

She, who had worked so hard and ultimately had limited choices among the best programs at Lian University—the best university in Lianyun City—hadn’t expected this situation today.

Now she realized that she had unnecessarily fixated on the assumption that Chi Yao would attend Jing University because she hadn’t dared to ask due to the growing distance between them.

Looking back, she had been so consumed by sadness that she hadn’t paid much attention to Wei Ping’s comforting words: Many programs at Lian University are better than those at Jing University.

“So,” she finally grasped a sense of reality in reuniting with Chi Yao, and a small joy began to blossom in her heart, “When I called you back then and you told me to apply to Lian University, was it because you were also applying to Lian University?”

“What else?”

“...”

The rock music outside stopped, entering a brief intermission.

Lin Zhexia: “Knowing you, it’s very possible that you wanted to mock and humiliate me into thinking I shouldn’t aim too high for Jing University.”

Chi Yao, as usual, coolly responded with an “Oh”: “That wasn’t entirely without reason.”

“...”

They had just met, and she already wanted to punch him again.

But undeniable, the familiar feeling between them was slowly returning.

Lin Zhexia: “I don’t want to talk to you for now.”

Chi Yao didn’t mind: “Let’s go. I’ll walk with you.”

Lin Zhexia led him back to her roommates’ table.

As they navigated through the crowd surrounding the stage, Chi Yao, worried she might get lost in the throng, placed his hand on her shoulder.

Then, amidst the chaotic sounds around them, she heard Chi Yao’s voice saying to her: “Coward, you’ve done pretty well this year.”

Lin Zhexia paused in her steps.

She knew Chi Yao was referring to her significant improvement in academic performance this year.

Her efforts to catch up with him hadn’t been in vain.

Before she could puff up with pride, he added from behind her: “I originally thought that while I’d be at Lian University, you’d end up at the nearby Lian University of Technology.”

“...”

Lin Zhexia couldn’t raise her metaphorical tail anymore: “You’re insulting me. I could get into Lian University of Technology with my eyes closed. If you’re going to belittle me, at least pick He Yang’s school.”

Chi Yao didn’t say anything.

He looked at her under the colorful lights. The girl in front of him seemed taller than she was in high school, and her hair had grown longer. Instead of tying it up like she used to in high school, she now wore it down.

As he looked at her, he thought that what he had just said wasn’t only about this past year of senior high but also about their junior high year.

In their third year of junior high, although he wanted to stay in Cheng’an District to be closer to her and applied to Cheng’an No. 2 High School, he hadn’t expected Lin Zhexia to perform exceptionally well and get into No. 2 High School. He had originally thought she would most likely end up at another nearby school like He Yang.

At the time, his plan was that even if she went to a nearby school, it wouldn’t matter—they could still walk to and from school together every day.

...

But unexpectedly, Lin Zhexia had exceeded expectations and squeezed into No. 2 High School.

When Lin Zhexia brought Chi Yao back, she was still thinking along the way how to introduce him to her newly acquainted roommates.

Something like this: “Let me introduce you all to a good friend of mine from many years ago.”

She reached the dining table but hadn’t started the introduction when Lan Xiaoxue and the others gathered around their phones, discussing heatedly: “—I told you so. Even a candid photo of this face looks like that; imagine what he looks like in person—”

Lan Xiaoxue’s words abruptly stopped.

Because she unexpectedly raised her head and saw Lin Zhexia and the person behind her.

Lan Xiaoxue: “...”

After a while, Lan Xiaoxue asked Lin Zhexia as if exchanging secret signals: “Last name Chi?”

Lin Zhexia: “Huh?”

Lan Xiaoxue pointed behind her and continued asking: “Chi Yao?”

Lin Zhexia: “Yeah.”

“The Chi Yao from the super high-threshold major that normal people can’t get into at our school?”

As Lan Xiaoxue said this, she confirmed it herself and finished the interrupted sentence: “—Indeed, the real person is even more impressive than the photos.”

Lin Zhexia was a bit confused about the situation: “Do you guys know him?”

Lan Xiaoxue: “That’s what we should ask you.” She put down her phone, and the five pairs of eyes focused on them like spotlights.

Lin Zhexia reacted half a beat slower. Before she figured out what happened, Chi Yao introduced himself first: “I’m her...”

Chi Yao dragged out the ending here, pausing for half a beat.

During this half-beat pause, several titles flashed through Lin Zhexia’s mind.

Good brother.

Childhood friend.

Someone who grew up together.

...

After half a beat, Chi Yao calmly uttered two words: “... older brother.”

“...???”

Lin Zhexia widened her eyes.

This person, does he have no shame?

These two obviously don’t share the same surname, yet he says “older brother” in such an ambiguous way.

Lan Xiaoxue and the other roommates elongated their voices with a long “Oh”: “We understand, we understand.”

“No, no,” Lin Zhexia hurriedly explained, “He’s not my older brother; he’s my childhood friend. We’ve known each other...”

For many years.

But no one listened to her anymore.

The sudden appearance of the person who became popular throughout the school right at the beginning of the semester fulfilled these roommates’ strong curiosity for gossip.

Not to mention, the way this person appeared was very impactful. While they were gathered around looking at posts, they suddenly looked up and saw the real person.

Lan Xiaoxue gave up her seat: “Please sit. You sit next to Zhexia, I’ll move to the opposite side.”

After sitting down, everyone was momentarily speechless facing Chi Yao’s overly dazzling face under the bar lights.

After a moment, Lan Xiaoxue asked interview-style: “I heard that many people were trying to find your contact information today. Is that true? How many friends did you add today?”

Chi Yao replied: “I didn’t turn on friend verification, so I’m not sure.”

Lan Xiaoxue: “... Strong people live in their own world.”

In the second half, Lin Zhexia seemed to become the one brought by Chi Yao. She sat next to Chi Yao, listening to them chat, and Chi Yao really acted like her “older brother.” When she eagerly wanted to drink, he glanced at her.

Later, he paid the bill in advance. Before leaving, he surprisingly added her roommates’ contact information and politely said: “Thank you for taking care of her in the future.”

Afterward, Lan Xiaoxue and the others wanted to take a walk around the school area, so they left first.

After they left, only Lin Zhexia and Chi Yao remained.

Lan Xiaoxue sent her a few messages after leaving.

• I never imagined the person we gossiped about would suddenly appear today.

• Creating some alone time for you and your older brother.

• You’re welcome.

Lin Zhexia wanted to say: It’s not what you think.

But she didn’t send it in the end.

She felt it was probably impossible to explain clearly.

After leaving the bar, the two walked toward the girls’ dormitory along the road lit with light strips.

Chi Yao asked her: “Did you drink?”

After leaving the noisy and dark bar, Lin Zhexia stared at the reflections of the two of them on the road and began to feel a bit uneasy: “Every time I touch a wine glass, your eyes turn into knives. How could I drink?”

“What about before I came?”

“I didn’t drink then either.”

“Then what were you doing sitting in the bar?”

“... Eating chicken wings.”

“...”

“By the way,” Lin Zhexia quickly found a new topic to avoid silence, “He Yang is once again our spiritual alumnus. Did he tell you? He’s at the neighboring Normal School.”

“He mentioned it.”

Lin Zhexia said: “I didn’t expect that after leaving Nanxiang Street, we could still be so close.”

Lin Zhexia: “By the way, did you come alone today? Why didn’t you tell me in advance?”

Chi Yao: “I wanted to give you a surprise.”

As he spoke, he used that lukewarm tone again: “Wasn’t it unexpected?”

This sentence seemed to have some kind of time-traveling magic.

Lin Zhexia immediately returned to that summer vacation after the high school entrance exam when she opened Chi Yao’s door with the key.

So she slowly responded according to the context: “... Did your dad come back?”

“...”

As they spoke, they were nearing the entrance of the girls’ dormitory.

After saying goodbye to him, Lin Zhexia suddenly remembered something.

So she ran back to Chi Yao, looked up at him, and earnestly said: “Don’t smoke anymore. Smoking is bad for your health.”

Chi Yao lowered his gaze and looked at her.

“If you can’t sleep at night,” Lin Zhexia continued, “you can call me or message me, but please don’t smoke anymore.”

After a while, Chi Yao responded with a sound from his throat.

And this person, who had such a proud face, actually “obediently” asked: “Should I confiscate it?”

Lin Zhexia counter-questioned: “... Can I confiscate it?”

Chi Yao: “Yes, the cigarettes are in the left pocket. Take them yourself.”

Chi Yao wasn’t wearing a jacket today, so the pockets were... pants pockets.

Lin Zhexia hesitated, but her desire to stop him from smoking finally overcame her hesitation.

Carefully, she reached for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

The pocket was tight, and the more she feared touching him, the more obvious the sensation at her fingertips became.

Finally, just before she decided to give up, she managed to pull out the box of cigarettes, her ears red.

Chi Yao reminded her: “There’s also a lighter.”

“...”

After confiscating his cigarettes and lighter, Lin Zhexia waved her hand somewhat flustered and ran toward the girls’ dormitory: “I’m going back to the dorm.”

When she returned to the dorm, Lan Xiaoxue and the others weren’t back yet.

The empty dormitory was quiet, with only her inside.

She leaned against the door, trying to calm her racing heart.

More than a year had passed.

The only thing unchanged was her heartbeat for him.