Shen Jianqing’s eyes shone intensely. He said, “I don’t believe you. Unless… unless you kiss me.”
I sighed, steeling myself, and pressed my lips to his rosy ones.
I had intended to keep it brief, but just as I was about to pull back, Shen Jianqing suddenly pressed his hand to the back of my head.
Our breaths mingled, heavy and urgent, exploding near my ear.
The TV’s noise receded, the city’s clamor downstairs faded, everything blurred into a background that no longer mattered.
Shen Jianqing’s hands roamed over me. I knew what he wanted, though I wasn’t particularly interested myself. Tonight, though, I decided to let him have his way.
“Inside…” I panted between breaths.
Immediately, Shen Jianqing lifted me, holding me close.
Before entering the room, he paused for a second. I heard the sharp snap of fingernails across the back of a hand, and in my peripheral vision, a tiny red shadow flicked away, landing somewhere in the room.
“Honghong?”
“Don’t worry about it…”
Shen Jianqing pulled me onto the bed.
I heard his low, sticky voice, teasing the air with intimacy: “Yuze, can I stay in this room tonight?”
My mind went blank. Whether I nodded or shook my head, I couldn’t remember.
The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of neon from outside.
My body was exhausted, yet my mind remained sharp.
The heavy breaths and dampness had subsided. Shen Jianqing lay quietly by my side, one arm still tightly around my waist, as if afraid I might vanish.
I looked at him in the dim light.
Half his face was buried in the pillow, revealing a straight nose. His hair seemed longer, a few strands falling over his cheek, giving him an unexpected air of innocence.
But moments ago, he had been pressed against me, sweat dripping onto my face, breaths thick with desire. The storm in his eyes, in the night, had seemed ready to consume me—no part of him could be called “innocent” then.
The frenzy had passed, the impulses that had surged in my chest gradually subsided. Tonight might well have been the wildest, most unrestrained night of my twenty-one years.
Now, I calmed down and began to reconsider my relationship with Shen Jianqing.
I had long planned my life carefully.
After graduating from university—or graduate school—I would stay in Yancheng and work for a newspaper or publishing house. If it weren’t for Teacher Ye’s project, my plan had been to intern at the Yancheng Daily this summer. I had published a few commentary pieces there and was familiar with their editors.
Once my career was stable, I would find a suitable girlfriend, ideally for two to three years—enough time to understand her personality and preferences, and enough time for her to understand my dullness and tedium.
My former roommates had asked why I never pursued campus romance. Not only because I had never met the right person, but because if our paths diverged after graduation, we’d face the pain of separation. I hated being abandoned, so I simply never started.
If she truly liked me, if I were lucky enough to enter marriage, we would face hardships together—raising children, managing a household. Regarding children, I would be flexible: one, two, or none. As long as the home remained, as long as I still had a home, I would be willing to give.
These were my life plans. Perhaps ordinary, but some people crave grandeur, while others cherish steady rivers.
Someone like Shen Jianqing had never appeared in my plans.
He was like a star suddenly appearing in the night sky, disrupting the entire chart. Even a skilled astronomer, unwilling to discard prior calculations, could only surrender and recalculate.
Do I like Shen Jianqing?
Of course I do.
Would I forgive his past reckless actions?
If he truly recognized his mistakes, if he truly grew, I would.
But there were more barriers between us than just that.
He would return to the Miao village, and both of us knew it.
Everyone has responsibilities and missions. He could not abandon his people.
And I would not abandon my own life.
Life is often full of contradictions and unattainable desires—sometimes love or the lack thereof, sometimes letting go or holding on.
“Ah…” I exhaled unconsciously.
The faint rustle of bedding beside me caught my attention.
I turned and realized Shen Jianqing had woken quietly, watching me.
“Can’t sleep?” He moved closer, his legs entwining mine like seaweed.
I felt a bit awkward, but didn’t push him away. “Mm.”
“Do you want me to sing you a song? When I was little, I couldn’t sleep, and my mother would sing to me.”
I smiled faintly. “You can do that?”
“Of course,” he said proudly, leaning close and singing softly into my ear.
His voice was gentle, light, like a feather brushing the skin, sending tingles through me. The lyrics were incomprehensible, but the unknown lullaby carried some subtle magic.
My weary eyes closed, my mind emptied.
Shen Jianqing’s warmth by my side was enough to fend off the chill of deep autumn night.
Before I fully fell asleep, in a half-dream state, I thought—perhaps this is what it feels like to have a home.
When I opened my eyes again, morning had arrived.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting golden patches on the floor.
The unfamiliar Miao folk song seemed to linger in my mind. I felt the fuzziness of his hair brushing my ear, and when I tilted my head slightly, I met Shen Jianqing’s unguarded sleeping face.
He was still pressed close to my ear, eyes tightly shut, seemingly still lost in a dream.
At this moment, my heart felt like a candy that kept expanding, stuffed full to the brim.
If only time could stop… how wonderful that would be.
I supposed countless people must have wished for the same thing, yet time is cruel—no one can make it happen.
My phone on the pillow vibrated twice, signaling a WeChat message. My heart sank. I rose slightly and, careful not to wake Shen Jianqing, picked it up.
As expected, it was a message from Teacher Ye Wensheng:
“Anpu and I have arrived. Where is he?”
I was about to type, but hesitated as my finger touched the screen.
A strange, unexplainable ache suddenly welled up inside me, like being torn apart by invisible hands. I had never felt anything like it before.
Shen Jianqing had enjoyed the privileges of being the future leader, but with it came the weight of his mission and responsibilities. The people in the Miao village were waiting for his return. In the outside world, he had no status, no education, could barely read… it would be difficult for him to find a foothold.
And for the Shidi Miao village, with its language and customs foreign to me, I had no place either.
Better to pull away now, keep clear-headed, rather than prolong the time and get lost in it.
So when Anpu contacted me through Teacher Ye, I chose to tell him about Shen Jianqing.
These past two days weren’t just for Shen Jianqing—they were also for Anpu.
But now, I suddenly regretted it.
I could have hidden him…
No, Li Yuze, what are you thinking!
I broke out in a cold sweat at the thought that had flashed across my mind, my drifting consciousness immediately snapping back. I hurriedly typed a reply:
“He’s at my place. I’ll bring him down shortly.”
But after setting the phone down, I didn’t know what to do next.
Soon, the sunlight shifted, creeping across the bed until it fell on Shen Jianqing’s face.
He slowly opened his eyes.
I turned my head and met his gaze. Shen Jianqing smiled and averted his eyes, burying his face back into the covers.
“Yuze,” his voice still heavy with sleep, sticky and warm, “I can finally open my eyes and see you! It feels like a dream.”
I said, “Get up.”
“Just a little longer…”
“Anpu’s waiting outside.”
Shen Jianqing stiffened against me for a moment.
The sweetness on his face vanished, leaving only a calm tone: “So fast. The two days you mentioned… really are just two days. Not even one more to spare.”
It felt like I’d stepped into nothingness; my chest ached and my eyes stung.
Shen Jianqing sat up. “Li Yuze… the words you said yesterday… were they true?”
I said, “Every single one came straight from my heart.”
Finally, Shen Jianqing smiled. “Then… do you still want me, Yuze?”
“Shen Jianqing, are you willing to put down your responsibilities and truly stay?”
Life is unpredictable. It seemed our roles had reversed. This time, it was I who asked the question.
Shen Jianqing stared back with those deep, dark eyes. We simply looked at each other, saying nothing.
Through each other’s eyes, we already saw the answer.
He had his duties, I had my future. Each of us had attachments we couldn’t leave behind. Perhaps our encounter in the Miao village was always meant to be a mistake.
“I understand,” Shen Jianqing said, dressing, then suddenly came closer.
He was taller than me, and now, expressionless, his presence pressed in.
I instinctively stepped back.
Shen Jianqing said, “Yuze, don’t worry. I won’t do the things I did before. I’ve realized that if someone truly wants to leave, no method can hold them back.”
“I’ve seen your world—it really is as beautiful as a dream,” he paused, then added, “I just hope… you won’t forget me so quickly.”
My vision blurred, and before I knew it, tears filled my eyes.
“How could I ever forget you…”
Shen Jianqing said, “Then see me off, Yuze.”
We walked downstairs in silence. Teacher Ye’s car was parked below. As soon as we appeared, Anpu got out of the passenger seat.
“Do you have anything else to say? Say it now,” Anpu said, helpless and uneasy, looking at Shen Jianqing before finally sighing heavily.
Shen Jianqing shook his head, then gave me one last look. That dark gaze was heavy with complex emotions.
Just that look tore a piece of my heart out. Even years later, when I recalled it, the pain would surface again, neither too light nor too heavy.
The car took him away, merging into the crowd, until he vanished completely.
I stood there, frozen, cold all over, unable to move.
Let it end here. We were always meant to be people from different worlds. Despite all the pain, all the love and hate, it ends here.
We each return to our own path.
Many say life is more than just romance. I think I’ve experienced the extremes of love and hate. Perhaps in the long years ahead, no one will ever come along to astonish me the way he did.
A sense of helplessness enveloped me.