Accepting regret and separation, accepting things going against one’s wishes—these are lessons adults must learn.
The most devastating farewell Wang Luxi had encountered so far was the college entrance examination.
After the exam ended, good friends who used to see each other every day would scatter in all directions. The eight girls in the dormitory hugged each other and wailed. Wang Luxi cried the hardest, waking up the next morning with eyes so swollen they were barely slits. But after the crying was done, after the exam was over, they still made plans to go shopping together, watch movies, chat about the schools they’d gotten into, and promised to visit each other’s cities during breaks. The group chat remained lively with countless messages every day.
It seemed like nothing had really changed, didn’t it?
Wang Luxi slapped her thigh in delayed realization, feeling sorry for all those tears she’d shed back then.
…If that was the case, then weren’t all farewells in this world temporary? Didn’t they all have sequels, chances for reunion and fresh starts?
She couldn’t find an answer.
Just then, someone tagged her in the group chat: [@Master Wang Wang Wang Wang, you’re so quiet today, why haven’t you shared any photos? Where are you exploring?]
Wang Luxi looked up at the dense crowd of heads around her.
Wang Luxi: [I’m at the Bird’s Nest right now. Too many people. I want to take tourist photos but my selfie stick broke. I’ll find someone to help me later.]
The Bird’s Nest was the main venue for the 2008 Beijing Olympics and last year’s Winter Olympics, and also hosted various performances. Her favorite singer was planning a concert at the Bird’s Nest this year, which she was still looking forward to. Today she came mainly to wander around, and to see the Bird’s Nest’s nighttime illumination for photos.
The group asked her: [Are you alone? Where’s your crush?]
Wang Luxi pressed her lips together: [He’s busy today.]
…Yuan Bei was busy today, so he wasn’t accompanying her.
Busy with what? Preparing for studying abroad? Wang Luxi didn’t ask, didn’t want to ask, and had spent the entire day restraining herself from reaching out to Yuan Bei first.
Night fell, and the Bird’s Nest lit up with shifting seven-colored lights spilling through the steel framework. Under the night sky, it seemed to have sharp, cutting edges.
Wang Luxi hastily found a passerby to help take a standard tourist photo, then took the subway back.
The subway was crowded as always.
She found a spot near the car connection, listening to music and reading novels to pass time. But after reading just two pages, she found it boring, suspecting the author was just padding word count today. She closed the app, stared blankly for a while, then—fighting the intermittent signal—inexplicably opened Ctrip.
Sweden was so far away…
Wang Luxi had only known the general location of Northern Europe before, and her understanding of the country was limited to IKEA furniture. This was her first time looking into it in detail. Turns out even a direct flight from Beijing to Sweden took ten hours, crossing the European continent and two oceans.
The plane tickets were so expensive too…
She began to feel melancholy.
This Beijing trip had originally made her feel that the world was so small, that going anywhere was convenient. But now, looking at the app’s flight simulation showing that long flight distance, she felt the world was too big—so big it made her hesitate. Her little bit of courage didn’t seem enough to push her across mountains and seas.
…
Yuan Bei’s voice call came through just as Wang Luxi exited the subway station.
On the other end was the same conversation opener they’d used many times—nothing new. Yuan Bei asked her concisely: “Where are you?”
“Just got back from the Bird’s Nest.”
Wang Luxi walked with drooping shoulders, one step at a time.
She’d only gone to one place today, yet felt especially tired—so tired that even answering Yuan Bei’s call required great effort.
On the other end of the line, Yuan Bei paused silently, said nothing, and only told her that the travel agency had news—they’d managed to get tickets for Universal Studios tomorrow.
“Want to go?”
Wang Luxi was surprised: “So sudden?? Tomorrow???”
“Yes, summer tickets are tight, timing is random. If we don’t go tomorrow, they’ll schedule it for next week. You decide.”
“Then let’s go tomorrow…”
…Yuan Bei had only said he’d leave at the end of the month. Who knew which day exactly? Next week would be the end of the month, wouldn’t it?
Wang Luxi pouted: “Do we need to go early to queue? I should research the morning route.”
Universal Studios had terrifying crowds during summer vacation. She’d seen posts about it before—even getting through the entrance supposedly took an hour of queuing. If they went late, they’d only get to experience one or two attractions all day. What a waste.
“…That’s exactly what I wanted to ask you about. You’d have to transfer to Line 1 by subway tomorrow morning, which is quite troublesome,” Yuan Bei paused. “If you’re willing, you could stay at my place tonight, leave early tomorrow morning, and I’ll drive.”
“Huh?”
Wang Luxi stopped in her tracks, not having anticipated this direction.
“…Think about it. Either way is fine.” Yuan Bei said.
But he seemed to maintain his usual thoughtfulness, having already considered her concerns and voiced them first: “I have a guest room. Friends sometimes stay over. I’ll clean it up in a bit.”
His attitude was straightforward.
Wang Luxi felt her competitive spirit stirred. Since Yuan Bei was being straightforward, she seemed to have even less reason to hesitate. Besides, it was Universal Studios—nothing was more tempting than getting to experience more attractions.
Wang Luxi set her melancholy aside for the moment.
“Okay, I’ll come over in a bit.”
“…I’ll pick you up.”
“I need to go back to the hostel to get toiletries!”
“I know. I’m downstairs from your building,” Yuan Bei said. “No rush, I’ll wait for you.”
“…”
–
When Yuan Bei picked up Wang Luxi, he saw her carrying a backpack with two cans of cat food in her hands.
“A meeting gift.” She closed the car door. “Just bought them at the pet store next door. First time visiting someone’s home—got to be polite.”
Yuan Bei raised an eyebrow: “You might not even see them.”
“The cats aren’t home?”
“They’re home, but they’re a bit shy. They hide when they see strangers. That’s just how cats are.”
“Oh,” Wang Luxi tapped the cans. “Never mind then. If they don’t want to meet, that’s fine. I’m the uninvited guest, so of course they have the right to refuse.”
Yuan Bei heard this and glanced at her.
The atmosphere in the car felt somewhat low, for unknown reasons.
…
“Yuan Bei, what style is your home decoration?”
Wang Luxi suddenly asked a random question, as if deliberately trying to break the low pressure.
“I don’t know what style it counts as. Came with the developer, didn’t change it. Too much hassle.”
“Oh, I figured as much… What about soft furnishings?”
Soft furnishings.
What fucking soft furnishings.
Yuan Bei recalled that ever since getting cats, he’d replaced his sofa twice and chairs three times, all because they’d been scratched beyond recognition. Even the curtains had been turned into tattered fringes.
“…The place is a bit messy. Don’t mind it.”
When they got home, Yuan Bei entered first, bending down to get disposable slippers from the shoe cabinet.
Wang Luxi took a quick look around. She indeed didn’t see any sign of the cats. Perhaps small animals had keen hearing and could distinguish footsteps that didn’t belong to their owner, hiding early.
Standing in the entryway, she felt Yuan Bei was being overly modest. The place was large and quite tidy, with a simple black and gray color scheme that was bright and spacious. And everything in sight was minimal. This seemed to fit Yuan Bei’s style—a person with low needs, where home was just a place to meet survival requirements, without a single unnecessary vase or extra painting.
But he had an entire sneakers wall.
An entire wall. Huge.
Wang Luxi stared in amazement.
She’d heard of people collecting shoes but had never seen it firsthand. Each pair of sneakers was stored in vacuum bags, neatly arranged in individual acrylic shoe cabinets with desiccant packets inside. The living room used air conditioning and dehumidifiers to maintain precise humidity. It looked more meticulous than preserving ancient antiques.
She asked Yuan Bei: “Just for display? You don’t wear them?”
“Right,” Yuan Bei said. “Mainly for collecting, because most are limited editions. If you miss them, they’re very hard to buy.”
Wang Luxi stared up at this shoe wall in a daze.
For the first time, she discovered that Yuan Bei—who seemed indifferent to everything—also had obsessions, also believed that “limited means more precious,” and thus treasured things more. It was no different from her insistence on using a Polaroid camera. Except his obsession was sneakers.
This entire wall of colorful, silent sneakers.
…Wang Luxi began to look at these sneakers with some displeasure.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Yuan Bei gestured to her. “If you’re thirsty, there’s water in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Wang Luxi didn’t pretend to be polite. She went to the kitchen and saw the refrigerator door was bare. Yuan Bei naturally didn’t have the habit of collecting refrigerator magnets. Except for a cat paw-shaped bottle opener attached to the handle, there were only two photo papers stuck to the side with small magnets. One was the photo she’d secretly taken of Yuan Bei at the Temple of Heaven that day, and one was the Forbidden City illumination from another day, which Yuan Bei had put up.
She opened the refrigerator door. Inside wasn’t just water, but also drinks, snacks, 7-Eleven duck products and fruit cuts, all with today’s date—clearly just purchased.
She grabbed an AD calcium milk, inserted a straw, and took a big sip: “…Such thoughtful hospitality.”
Yuan Bei didn’t hear.
He’d just come out of another closed room, having changed into home clothes—also a loose T-shirt, typical Uniqlo style, comfortable and simple.
“Is that your walk-in closet?”
“Yes.”
“…What about the other doors?”
“Tour it yourself.”
Wang Luxi had originally worried about being impolite, but since she’d gotten permission, she naturally wandered through each room.
Besides two bedrooms and a separate walk-in closet, there was also a study.
Wang Luxi was most interested in this study, because here she finally glimpsed Yuan Bei’s mentioned “childhood”—the style was completely at odds with the shoe wall from before. This place felt like an elderly person’s room, with bookcases, an old wooden desk, and even a brush holder and inkstone on the desktop. Framed calligraphy and paintings hung on the walls.
“When we moved out of the courtyard house, we dealt with quite a lot of old things. What we kept had nowhere else to go, so we put it here,” Yuan Bei said.
Wang Luxi pointed to one of the pieces of calligraphy: “Did you write this?”
“That’s my grandfather’s,” Yuan Bei smiled. “Nothing here is mine. My terrible handwriting doesn’t deserve to be framed and embarrass itself.”
There’s a saying in calligraphy: “Writing is a painting of the heart.” Yuan Bei had started copying copybooks from a very young age, studying Yan Lugong’s style, but could never capture even a trace of it.
Grandfather said he was copying superficially, only showing off technique. He wrote without heart, using only his hand—what could come of that?
Wang Luxi admired each piece of calligraphy and painting, then turned around and grinned at Yuan Bei. With that grin, Yuan Bei understood her mischievous thoughts and waved his hand as he walked out: “Don’t even think about it.”
“Come on! You already put the photos I gave you on your fridge. Writing a few characters for me to see isn’t too much to ask, is it?” Wang Luxi grabbed the back of Yuan Bei’s shirt and tugged, making a whining sound: “Yuan Bei…”
“…”
…
Wang Luxi was actually just curious.
She really wanted to see Yuan Bei’s handwriting, and even more, wanted to see Yuan Bei while he was writing.
A stack of rice paper, a brush, a bottle of ink—Yuan Bei stood at the desk and began to write while Wang Luxi stood behind him, staring at his shoulders. She realized that beneath that fabric lay cold, hard mechanical patterns. There was something strange and contradictory about these arms writing calligraphy with a brush.
She’d also heard that children learning calligraphy had to practice suspended wrist technique, otherwise their hands wouldn’t be steady.
So her gaze fell to Yuan Bei’s wrist—somewhat lean yet attractive wrist bones that seemed to move effortlessly as several characters took shape.
It was a line of poetry.
After the ink dried, Yuan Bei handed over the characters: “For you.”
His eyes were sincere.
No matter how many times they made eye contact, Wang Luxi would always praise Yuan Bei’s eyes in her heart. They were beautiful, understated eyes that could hide many emotions.
She glanced at the characters, then at Yuan Bei, and her praise shifted focus—she thought this was truly beautiful calligraphy from a truly intelligent person.
She stared at this line of poetry for a long time.
After hesitating, she finally rolled up the rice paper, preparing to take it with her.
Since it was for her, she’d keep it.
…
“Use the main bathroom. I’ve cleaned it. I’ll use the one in the bedroom,” Yuan Bei said.
Wang Luxi entered the bathroom and set down her toiletries.
She also caught sight of some of Yuan Bei’s things. She’d originally wanted to see what cologne he used—Yuan Bei had smelled really good that time at Beihai Park, but it had only appeared that once.
…Never mind, that would be a bit intrusive.
She poked her head out of the bathroom and saw Yuan Bei sitting in the living room. It was still early, so she suggested: “Yuan Bei, let’s watch a movie.”
“Okay, what should we watch?”
“Harry Potter?” Tomorrow they were going to Universal, and she was most looking forward to the Hogwarts castle area, but it had been years since she’d last watched. “Pick any one. I need to refresh my memory.”
“Alright.”
Yuan Bei’s snack purchases came in handy just like that.
Wang Luxi sat on the sofa and opened a can of chips while Yuan Bei adjusted the projector.
A black shadow suddenly darted past from the bedroom direction and immediately disappeared. She exclaimed with an “ah”: “Yuan Bei! I saw your cat! So round and chubby!”
“Mm, it’s curious,” Yuan Bei said flatly. “Don’t point out their flaws in front of them—cats understand too.”
Wang Luxi pressed her palms together and apologized to the air: “Not chubby, sturdy and blessed.” After apologizing, she giggled foolishly.
She realized that tonight in this room, besides her and Yuan Bei, there were two other living creatures. Two people and two cats, all spying on each other—how interesting.
Yuan Bei sat down beside her, leaving about enough space for a cat between them, and tossed her a throw pillow.
Wang Luxi leaned back comfortably and sighed: “Yuan Bei, don’t you think it’s magical?”
“You think everything under the sun is magical.”
“No, I mean fate. Out of all those people in the tour group, only us—only the two of us became friends, and now we can sit together watching movies. Isn’t that right?”
Yuan Bei said slowly: “Who says it’s only you.”
Wang Luxi: “?”
“Other people from the group added my WeChat too, and they still message me every day to this day.”
Besides me? Other people?
Male or female…
Wang Luxi looked at Yuan Bei’s profile, feeling like he was pulling her leg.
“Really?”
“Really.” The projector’s light and shadow fell into Yuan Bei’s eyes, flickering bright and dim. “Every single day.”
Yuan Bei’s phone was right beside his hand.
Wang Luxi felt eager to try, tentatively reaching out. Her arm stopped mid-air as she observed—Yuan Bei showed no reaction, seemingly giving tacit permission. So she grew bolder and directly took the phone.
Yuan Bei’s phone had no password.
So she easily saw his WeChat.
…There really was someone—an auntie with a lotus flower avatar who persistently messaged Yuan Bei every day, promoting the health supplements she was selling.
Wang Luxi threw the phone back: “You’re messing with me.”
Yuan Bei leaned back with a half-smile: “That day in the group, besides you, the average age was sixty and up.”
“…I was going for the bargain!” Wang Luxi pouted. “Besides, those aunties were pretty cute too. The grandma I roomed with even shared her food with me!”
Wang Luxi actually rated this group tour quite highly, not only because it led to meeting Yuan Bei, but because all the other tour members were nice people too.
She asked Yuan Bei: “How do you have a tour guide license anyway? That’s not what you studied.”
“In college I felt like the days were hard to get through, so I thought about taking certification exams to pass time.”
Not just the tour guide license, but also performance agency licenses and various other random certifications. Whenever there was something he could test for, Yuan Bei would study for it and take the exam, to ease the anxiety of being caught between academics and work in junior and senior year, and the confusion about the future. Even Yuan Bei had such troubles.
However, Wang Luxi, who hadn’t yet reached that stage, couldn’t relate for the time being.
She recalled Yuan Bei’s stammering explanations that day at the Temple of Heaven and couldn’t help laughing: “I thought you were definitely a newbie then, or a temp worker. Your skills were terrible, Tour Guide Yuan. Good thing the aunties didn’t mind.”
Yuan Bei raised an eyebrow: “I thought that little girl talked way too much.”
Even if unprofessional, even if stammering, he’d lectured until his mouth was dry that day. Just when he’d finally found a quiet spot to rest and drink some water, he unexpectedly became an eavesdropper. Such a pretty little girl, but she opened her mouth to hurt people, calling to complain about him.
From Yuan Bei’s perspective, he saw the little girl swallow an entire egg, cheeks puffed like a little hamster, first saying his work ability was lacking, then slapping and giving a sweet date, praising how handsome he was.
Yuan Bei touched his nose bridge, momentarily unsure whether to cry or laugh.
So after much hesitation, he offered that can of Coke and got to know someone named Wang Luxi.
True to her name—that morning at the Temple of Heaven, the ancient trees were lush and dense, dewdrops on the leaves reflecting diamond-like light.
“The more you say that, the more I think it’s fate, even though your eavesdropping was wrong.”
Yuan Bei didn’t speak. After a moment of silence, he slowly said: “Actually, it’s not just that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Actually, this isn’t the first time we’ve met.”
“Huh? You’ve seen me before? When?”
Many years ago.
Though he’d forgotten which year it was too.
“You showed me that photo you took as a child at the Temple of Heaven,” Yuan Bei said.
Wang Luxi looked skeptical. She opened her phone’s photo album, enlarged that photo bigger and bigger, and Yuan Bei pointed—behind her, on the other side of the Temple of Heaven’s Danbi Bridge, a boy had entered the frame, expressionless, making a peace sign.
The photo was actually densely packed with tourists. But only the two of them, in that moment, had looked toward the same lens.
That was Yuan Bei.
…
Wang Luxi absolutely didn’t believe it.
She enlarged the photo to maximum size, then carefully compared it with Yuan Bei’s face… It did seem somewhat similar. The boy in the photo and the current Yuan Bei had similar expressions. A person’s features might change, but their temperament and expressions remained roughly the same.
“…I’m getting goosebumps, Yuan Bei! Don’t scare me!” Wang Luxi grimaced. “This is too much of a coincidence! You were at the Temple of Heaven that day too? For fun?”
“I forgot,” Yuan Bei said.
He vaguely remembered his mother coming back from abroad that day, dropping by to see him with only one day available. Mom asked where he wanted to go. Yuan Bei didn’t really want to go anywhere, but couldn’t bear to see his mother’s disappointed expression, so he casually said, “The Temple of Heaven.”
How did that tour explanation go again?
The Temple of Heaven embodies ancient Chinese people’s view of the universe.
Heaven is round, earth is square. Even if heaven and earth are vast, they have boundaries, and at those boundaries, destined people will meet.
“…” Wang Luxi was speechless.
She stared at the photo in a daze, not knowing how to describe the waves in her heart. If someone hooked her up to an EKG right now, it would definitely detect her heartbeat alternating between massive fluctuations and flat lines.
She still found it hard to believe.
But Yuan Bei’s expression was absolutely genuine.
He was sharp-tongued and loved to joke, but would never do so about something like this.
Because he knew she would care.
…
Wang Luxi bit her lip and looked down.
She paid no attention to what was playing in the movie, only feeling the noise. After thinking for a while, she put down the chips, got up, and brought over her Polaroid camera.
“So magical, Yuan Bei,” she looked at him hesitantly. “Let’s take another photo. As a keepsake. This time you need to have a better expression.”
“What counts as better?”
“Just smile a little.”
“I can’t smile in photos, really,” Yuan Bei said. “My best friend says I look like I just failed a class in graduation photos, and like the company’s about to go bankrupt in my work ID photo.”
Wang Luxi encouraged him: “It’s okay, just try harder. Come on.”
She raised the Polaroid, turned the lens around, and clicked.
Yuan Bei indeed didn’t smile.
His expression seemed frozen.
Wang Luxi immediately smacked him on the shoulder: “Don’t waste my photo paper! Just lift the corners of your mouth a little!”
Then she reached out and pinched Yuan Bei’s chin, manually guiding him.
Yuan Bei sucked in a breath: “Why do you always get physical, you little girl?”
He grabbed her hand: “I told you I can’t smile in photos.”
Wang Luxi looked at their intertwined fingers and suddenly exploded: “Just smile! Do you think I want to smile, Yuan Bei! I don’t have any other demands! I just want to take a photo with you! Just smile a little!”
…Her voice suddenly became somewhat distorted. And a bit moist.
This startled Yuan Bei.
He was certain he hadn’t misheard.
The little girl’s eyes had turned red, seemingly covered with a layer of water, particularly clear in the flowing light and shadow of the movie.
“…What’s this about,” he readjusted his sitting position, gripped her shoulders, brought her closer to him, then positioned himself behind her. “Go ahead and take it. I’ll try my best.”
Wang Luxi took a deep breath and raised the Polaroid again.
Click.
The framing was entirely based on feeling—she didn’t know if they’d gotten it all in.
During the few seconds waiting for the photo paper to develop, Wang Luxi kept her head down until their two faces appeared in the frame.
She was looking at the lens, smiling with all her teeth showing.
And Yuan Bei was behind her, with the corners of his mouth slightly curved.
His eyes were looking in her direction.
His gaze seemed to have weight, landing on her.
…
Her heartbeat finally fell from the cliff, silent.
A very long silence.
Wang Luxi suddenly stood up and headed straight for the room.
“I’m tired. You picked such a boring movie.”
But Yuan Bei called after her: “Wang Luxi.”
His voice was calm.
No telling if there was more to come.
Wang Luxi didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, just waved her hand: “I’m going to sleep! If we’re late tomorrow and I can’t have fun, I’ll hit someone.”
“Good night.”
She closed the door.
The room was very quiet.
Wang Luxi leaned against the door, breathing heavily.
Tonight she’d gained two things at Yuan Bei’s place.
Her tangled thoughts were like a ball of yarn—she really didn’t know how to sort them out. The taste of organizing this ball of yarn was both heartbreaking and comforting.
Heartbreaking because of the calligraphy he’d written for her—”Do not worry about having no friends ahead on your path.”
Yuan Bei had given her this line.
Comforting was because of the photo in her hand, which she’d already wrinkled from gripping.
When she was trying her best to smile genuinely at the camera, Yuan Bei had been looking at her the entire time.
How much warmth was in that gaze, whether there was ambiguity and affection—Wang Luxi didn’t want to analyze deeply anymore. She only knew that in the moment the photo was captured, Yuan Bei’s eyes held only her.
At least she’d captured this moment, right?