Always Home

It seemed her efforts had finally moved the heavens. By the end of the semester, Qi Qi ranked first in her class and third in her grade.

At last, she mustered the courage to stand by that person’s side. On the first day of winter break, she called Huan’er. “Are you all studying together? I don’t have extra classes this holiday. Can I come over?”

“Come, come!” Huan’er, thrilled to finally receive an initiative from her friend, was practically ready to fetch her in person. She chattered excitedly, “We’re all at Song Cong’s place. He and Liao Xinyan are tutoring Jing Qichi in biology. Jing Qichi actually improved this time—he’s no longer at the bottom.”

“Who is it?” Song Cong asked.

“Qi.”

On the other end of the line, Qi Qi strained her ears. What would his response be to her name? Would he invite her? Would he ask what she’d been up to? Or… maybe, knowing the results from the liberal arts class, would he offer a word of congratulations?

But there was nothing. Instead, she only heard Liao Xinyan’s voice. “No, go over the theory of evolution again.”

Qi Qi’s heart sank. She couldn’t help but ask, “Why is the class monitor there too?”

Huan’er naturally couldn’t say that Liao Xinyan had orchestrated the gathering because she wanted to see Jing Qichi. She could only fumble for an excuse. “It’s too difficult. We were afraid Song Cong couldn’t handle tutoring alone.”

Jing Qichi’s voice cut in, “Who are you calling difficult?”

Both Liao Xinyan and Song Cong quickly intervened, “Study, study.”

Huan’er yelled, “I’m on the phone here! Keep it down!”

How lively it was.

Yet every word stabbed at Qi Qi’s heart—even the most trivial mention of “biology.”

She didn’t even have biology class.

On her desk was a plate of fruit her mother had just brought in. Among the bright red apples, a lone yellow pear stood out like a sore thumb. Qi Qi picked up the innocent pear and threw it into the trash. She said into the phone, “A classmate just messaged me to hang out. Maybe next time.”

This was the fate of being cast aside.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fit in. Even making an effort felt unbearably pathetic.

—She didn’t want to, nor would she ever, become someone who begged for scraps.

Without waiting for Huan’er’s reply, Qi Qi hung up.

“Next time” was a polite refusal. Throughout the entire winter break, Huan’er never saw Qi Qi again.

She called, she texted, but every conversation ended abruptly after a few words. She must be really busy, Huan’er thought. After all, top students weren’t as idle as someone like Song Cong.

The Spring Festival was spent in the hospital. Her father hadn’t come home, and she couldn’t bear to leave her mother alone, so she didn’t return to Sishui. Working the night shift on New Year’s Eve wasn’t anything new. The Third Hospital had better facilities—the kitchen staff had prepared dumplings in advance and stored them in the freezer. At the entrance of the cafeteria, a few induction cooktops and disposable utensils were laid out on a table. Self-service was the way to go. That night, the New Year’s feast turned into a revolving-door banquet—one group came, brought noise and cheer, and before the quiet could settle in, the next wave arrived. Huan’er and her mother ended up eating with a few uncles and aunts from the obstetrics department.

If you were a doctor’s family member, you’d know—they didn’t just hum Beyond songs during surgeries or chat about their troublesome kids. They didn’t only discuss bizarre cases from the day while eating pig brains or stir-fried intestines. They also divided into theoretical and experiential factions during New Year’s Eve dinner, placing serious bets—the stakes being night shifts—on whether the woman in Bed 8 would give birth before or after midnight.

Chen Ma patted her daughter’s head and earnestly advised, “Obstetrics and gynecology go hand in hand. Pay attention—it’ll be useful later.”

Huan’er replied inwardly, Right, right. I’ll use it when I have kids.

After dinner, while idly browsing the internet in the medical office, she received a message from Jing Qichi:

“Come to the base.”Exiting through the side door of the hospital and crossing a small garden led straight into the Family Compound. This place, which parents passed through daily on their way to and from work, was what Jing Qichi called their "base." He said that when they were kids, all the children in the compound would gather here to plan their mischievous deeds—it had the perfect location, great concealment, and the most dangerous spot was also the safest.

Huan'er stood in the middle of the path but saw no one. Just as she took out her phone to send a message, she heard movement behind her. Swiftly, she thrust her elbow backward and grabbed the person's upper arm, preparing to flip them over. Jing Qichi yelped in pain, "Ow, ow!"

Song Cong emerged from the side, laughing as he pulled the two childish troublemakers apart. "You asked for it, deliberately looking for a fight."

Rubbing his right ribs, Jing Qichi put on a pitiful expression. "Quick, call your dad to check on me. I think it's broken."

"It's not broken. I knew it was you, so I didn't even use full force," Huan'er retorted, sticking out her tongue at him.

"You call this... not using full force? Chen Huan'er, come here. I'll show you what 'not using full force' really means. Come here, come on."

Huan'er took off running around the garden, with Jing Qichi chasing after her, while Song Cong stood there, nearly in tears from laughter.

After running for a while, Huan'er suddenly realized—why was she running? It wasn’t like she couldn’t take him. She stopped abruptly. "One-on-one."

Jing Qichi smirked and tapped her forehead. "Just wait, I’ll have you begging me for mercy later."

They had come bearing gifts—a case of beer.

Song Cong opened a can and handed it to Huan'er, but Jing Qichi intercepted it. "No manners. Call me 'bro' first."

Huan'er nodded solemnly. "Let me think about which department to send you to after I call you that."

"Ophthalmology. They're short-staffed today," Song Cong chimed in.

"Hey, Lao Song, did you take a bribe or something? Why are you ganging up on me with her?"

"Enough," Song Cong chuckled, opening another can and handing it to him. "Stop showing off your limited vocabulary."

The wind was strong, and the beer was cold, but drinking it warmed them from the inside out—enough to embrace the frigid winter night.

Gratitude spread through Huan'er like a warm current. She raised her can and said sincerely, "Thank you, guys."

She knew why they had come. She also knew there must have been nights like this in the past when they, like her, understood everything perfectly yet still felt a little lonely, a little sad, a little lost.

While countless families gathered under warm lights, some still had to hold their posts.

Song Cong clinked his can against hers. "If you ever want to drink in the future, call me."

—Whether near or far, anytime, anywhere.

Jing Qichi clinked his can too. "I let you drink so you can sleep better."

—Don’t overthink it. Even the longest night will pass.

Huan'er didn’t know what words they left unspoken, but she remembered falling asleep in the on-call room that night, as if dreaming. In her dream, her father and mother held her together, as though she were the brightest, most precious treasure in the world.

At the start of the new semester, Qi Qi completely withdrew from their little walking group. Her excuses were always similar—catching up on homework, a teacher calling her, helping a classmate with a problem. It wasn’t until one day when Huan'er ran into her in the parking lot, laughing and chatting with another girl, that she realized all those were just excuses. Qi Qi had simply found new friends.

Of course, she would make new friends—but why not just say so?

Feeling a bit petty, Huan'er sent a message: Qi, you could’ve just told me if you wanted to walk with someone else.

It wasn’t until almost 11 p.m. that she got a reply: I’ll walk with others from now on.

Just that one line—a lukewarm, indifferent notice.The next day during break, Huan'er couldn't resist going to the liberal arts building to find Qi Qi. She saw Qi Qi being escorted out by two girls, who stopped upon noticing her. "Something wrong?" Qi Qi asked.

As if she needed a reason to come.

Huan'er immediately grew frustrated. "You've been acting strange lately. Are you hiding something from me?"

Qi Qi motioned for her companions to go ahead, crossing her arms. "Don't you always walk around with Liao Xinyan? What difference does it make whether I'm there or not?"

"Liao Xinyan, she..." Huan'er faltered, suddenly feeling hurt. "How can you say that?"

Qi Qi snorted. "You're not the same Chen Huan'er from before—the one who only had me as a friend."

She needed to head back soon, or she'd be late for class.

But Huan'er's feet felt nailed to the ground, countless words stuck in her throat, unable to come out.

"You should go back," Qi Qi said before turning to catch up with her friends.

Something was definitely wrong. Qi Qi wasn't the type to lash out for no reason. Yet, no matter how hard she racked her brain, Chen Huan'er couldn't figure out why. Worse still, it seemed she might never get the chance to ask.

Qi Qi stopped answering her calls. Occasionally, she'd reply to a text, but any inquiry about the sudden distance was met with the same response: "You're overthinking it." Sometimes, they'd bump into each other on campus—exchange a smile, maybe ask, "How'd your exams go?"—but they had regressed from friends back to classmates.

The most ordinary kind of classmates, the type who barely knew each other.

Chen Huan'er fell into a slump over this. She was listless in class and often distracted while doing assignments. With no solution in sight, one afternoon during self-study, she turned to Du Man. "If that girl who leads exercises suddenly stops talking to you, what do you think the reason would be?"

Du Man continued writing while munching on a piece of bread. "She wouldn't. Besides, who just stops talking to someone out of nowhere?"

Huan'er doodled aimlessly on her paper. "Exactly. There must be a reason."

"Did you do something to upset her?"

"No."

"Was there a misunderstanding you didn't clear up?"

"No."

Du Man stopped writing. "Then she has her reasons but doesn't want to tell you. Stop overthinking it."

Huan'er sighed. "Losing a friend like this is such a waste."

Du Man stuffed the remaining half of the bread into her bag and took a sip of water. "You can always make new friends, but lost time never comes back."

What a machine, Huan'er thought, but she still pulled out her workbook and started on the problems.

Just then, a boy from another class burst into the room, panting heavily. "Song Cong, Jing Qichi's hurt. Get to the infirmary, quick!"

Before he even finished speaking, Song Cong shot up from his seat. Huan'er hesitated for a split second before throwing down her pen and running after him.

A first-tier provincial club was holding tryouts next week to prepare for the Youth Super League. A coach from the Football Academy, who had mentored Jing Qichi since childhood and recognized his talent, had personally recommended him. Combined with his past accolades as a top player in major tournaments, Jing Qichi had been confident about making the cut. Since winter break, he'd been training nonstop with the Football Academy team, pouring all his energy into the tryouts. His parents were even prepared to transfer him to a new school at a moment's notice.

And now, of all times, he got injured.

The infirmary was packed with six or seven boys in athletic wear. These usually boisterous guys now stood around the bed like flowers battered by a storm, their faces grim. Song Cong pushed through the crowd. "What happened?"

One of the boys answered for him. "They collided during the match. The captain got pinned underneath. He seemed fine at first, but after running a few steps, he suddenly collapsed and couldn't get back up."Jing Qichi's face was deathly pale, with large beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, his expression twisted in agony. The teacher applying the ice pack suggested, "Go to the hospital for an X-ray to check if any bones are injured."

Song Cong immediately directed Huan'er, "Go stop a taxi at the gate. We'll head back first." With that, he hoisted Jing Qichi onto his back and whispered in an extremely quiet voice, "Whatever you do, don't injure your knee again."