Always Home

The pain of heartbreak grows deeper the more you dwell on it.

To pull herself out of it, Chen Huan'er chose to bury herself in the library with Huixin, drowning her sorrows in coursework. Huang Lu had been right—the initial outburst of tears was just the beginning. Every bookshelf, every desk, every couple sitting side by side made her cry again. Even the sight of flowers brought tears to her eyes, her vision blurring without warning. She would secretly wipe them away and plunge back into her studies.

How had it come to this? She couldn’t understand.

One evening, on their way back to the dorm after the library closed, Huixin looped an arm through hers and asked, "What are your plans after graduation?"

"Find a job, I guess." Like most people—get employed, get married, have kids, find someone passably suitable to spend her life with.

The thought made her nose sting again.

Huixin stopped walking then, taking both of Huan'er’s hands in hers. "Huan'er, have you ever considered grad school?"

"Me?"

At the start of the semester, their advisor had indeed posted a ranking of their three-year academic performance, and Chen Huan'er had placed fifth. But on the day of the meeting about it, she’d been running a high fever and only half-listened to the phone call explaining she was eligible for a recommendation exemption before falling asleep. First, she’d never seriously considered further studies—while others were busy applying for summer programs across the country, she’d only cared about finishing her experiments and acing her finals. Second, ever since the semester began, she’d been trapped in the gloom of her breakup, struggling just to keep her overthinking at bay. She had no interest in anything happening around her.

"Yeah." Huixin nodded solemnly. "Your grades are excellent, and your English is strong. That cell decomposition project we did last semester is another plus. If you’re interested..."

Huan'er studied the girl before her with red-rimmed eyes. "Boss, what’s up with you today?"

"I..." Huixin gave a bitter smile. "I’m not going."

It had been her goal since freshman year. Huixin’s life revolved around four places—dorm, classroom, library, cafeteria. Scorching summers, freezing winters, not a single day of slacking off. Her reward was ranking first in their department and winning scholarships effortlessly.

Their advisor said her GPA was the highest in five years.

In other words, if the pharmacy school had only one recommendation exemption, it would undoubtedly go to Dong Huixin.

"Why?" Huan'er was baffled.

"My brother’s a senior in high school this year, and his grades are great." Huixin patted her chest. "As his older sister, I’ve got to do my part."

Huan'er understood, but her confusion remained. "But a recommendation to our own school covers tuition."

"Beyond tuition, there’s time. Everything has an opportunity cost." Huixin started walking again. "Do you know how much I envy all of you? Qiu Li told me the other day she can’t decide between the U.S. and Australia. Huang Lu can graduate just by coasting, and if worse comes to worst, her family can support her. And you, Huan'er—you breeze through everything yet live so fully, even managed to squeeze in a relationship..."

"Stop." Just the mention of it made Huan'er want to cry again.

Huixin slung an arm around her shoulders. "Alright, that guy wasn’t worth it anyway. You think you’ve got it worse than me? The heavens gave me the talent for studying but not the fate for it."

At the crossroads of graduation, some sauntered forward without a care for deadlines, while others were shoved along by the traffic lights of fate, not daring to pause for even a moment.

Autumn had just begun to tinge the campus, the occasional green-and-yellow leaf drifting down, lying quietly in the grass like a rejected contestant, gazing up at the lush branches above.

Huixin sighed softly. "Only now do I realize—studying is the happiest thing in the world."Is doing the happiest thing the way to become the happiest person?

Huan'er murmured to herself, "I could continue studying."

Heaven had blessed her with wonderful parents, and she had never felt the pressure of financial hardship growing up. Moreover, she had been in a slump lately, like a small boat lost in the deep sea, drifting aimlessly with no direction home. Perhaps academia could become the guiding light that would lead her ashore.

"My withdrawal will free up a graduate recommendation spot," Huixin said with a smile. "If you've made up your mind, I'll help you sort out the materials when we get back."

"Help me?"

"Consider it repayment for the care you've shown me these past three years." Huixin lowered her head quietly. "Huan'er, I know—I know everything you and the others have done for me. It's just that I... I had no choice. I don’t have the means to thank you now. But later, I’ll repay you bit by bit."

The elders at home often said that suffering a loss brings blessings. This old-fashioned, outdated, and even somewhat cowardly saying now made sense to Chen Huan'er. Suffering a loss was like a chemistry experiment—failure meant extracting lessons and starting over, but success could catalyze an immeasurable reaction of goodwill. This goodwill was invaluable, and its greatest worth lay in showing the experimenter that they had done the right thing.

Thanks to Huixin's withdrawal, Chen Huan'er smoothly took her place and submitted her materials. Though she missed the first round of interviews and the English exam for the university-wide exemption, her materials were accepted, and three days later, she directly took the specialized written test and the departmental defense. Performing as usual, she received the confirmation notice the same day.

In other words, she could at least choose to stay at her current university.

Huan'er met with her prospective advisor, Professor Ding Heping, a renowned researcher whose publications spanned domestic and international journals. She had attended his lectures early in her studies, and just this meeting alone left her exhilarated for a long time. That afternoon, they talked extensively—about subfields of the discipline, future research directions, industry trends, and pending projects. For the first time, Chen Huan'er felt that her diligent study of analytical chemistry, microbiology, and medical statistics held significance beyond earning a stellar transcript. Perhaps she could truly use them to contribute something to the world.

No, it didn’t have to be that grand. Just for medical workers like her mother would suffice. She could forge a sharp sword for them, lending a hand in their battle against complex diseases.

From preparing the materials to applying and getting accepted, everything went more smoothly than she could have imagined. The rural fortune-teller had been right—the worst was over, and now only good fortune remained.

She had no intention of considering other options. For one, her university’s ranking was decent, and the advantage of a small department was greater freedom, with maximum openness in both resource allocation and research topics. Secondly, though Professor Ding was somewhat eccentric, his expertise was unparalleled, and joining his mentorship was a dream come true. As for her own reasons—some people strive relentlessly, always chasing the best and the highest. Unfortunately, Chen Huan'er wasn’t one of them. She had tried to be fiercely ambitious, to catch up to those always ahead of her, but she gradually realized that personalities vary as widely as the world itself. Some aspire to ride the winds and break the waves, soaring to the heavens, while others seek poetic tranquility in a quiet corner. There’s no way to judge which is better—each simply pursues their own path. She loved the university, loved this city, and now, she even loved its chilly winters. The thought of having a small space here to conduct research filled her with joy and boundless anticipation.

She shared the good news in the Chen family group chat first. Soon, her mother replied with a voice message: "You’re now the most educated person in our family. Don’t get arrogant. I’m heading into surgery—we’ll talk more later."Huan'er was about to reply when she received a second message—"Your dad's been busy with drills these days, so I'll congratulate you on his behalf. Ask him for the red envelope."

Well, these career-driven folks were all equally swamped.

The second person she notified was Huixin. Although she had given up on further studies, she still kept her habit of visiting the library in her free time. Huan'er thought that might be her way of expressing reluctance and nostalgia. When she called, Huixin didn’t sound the least bit surprised. Faced with Huan'er's repeated thanks, Huixin grew a little embarrassed. "Your GPA was already good enough. I barely did anything."

"No," Huan'er disagreed. "What you did was crucial."

It was Huixin who showed her another possibility, and the path ahead—Chen Huan'er knew—would completely change her life.

As for the third person to contact—

Before she could even press the call button, Jing Qichi beat her to it. "Congrats, Chen Shuo."

Huan'er was stunned. "How did you know?"

She had just received the notification.

"Your mom told the head nurse before she went into the operating room, and the head nurse happened to run into my mom," Jing Qichi laughed. "Aunt Lina has back-to-back surgeries tonight, so you’ll have to wait a while."

In the Third Hospital district, good and bad news spread in the blink of an eye.

"Right now, it all feels so unreal," Huan'er confided in him. "Starting school felt like boarding a rocket—everything happened so fast. Things disappeared quickly, arrived quickly, and I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to."

For over a month now, she hadn’t seen Tian Chi again.

"Don’t dwell on what’s gone. As for what’s coming…" Jing Qichi’s throat itched. He covered the receiver and coughed twice before continuing, "Ever heard of ‘success comes to those who prepare’? That’s the reward for all your hard work."

Without solid academic achievements as a foundation, even if Chen Huan'er had all the talent in the world, she wouldn’t have secured this opportunity.

"Besides," Jing Qichi’s voice was muffled, "you’ve always had great luck."

"Really?" Huan'er thought about it and couldn’t help but agree. "Yeah." Hearing his intermittent coughing, she turned onto the bridge instead of heading back to the dorm. "Where are you?"

Jing Qichi waited for Chen Huan'er at the entrance of the main campus library. The black long-sleeved dress she wore accentuated her fair skin and quiet elegance—though the items she carried seemed utterly out of place.

First, she handed him a small white plastic bag from her left hand—a box of cold medicine and a bottle of cough syrup—along with the instruction, "Take these as soon as you get back." Then she passed him a large red plastic bag from her right. When Jing Qichi opened it, he found ten enormous, round snow pears.

"This…" He weighed them in his hands, momentarily speechless. "Must be at least six pounds…"

"Eight and a half," Huan'er said casually. "I picked the biggest ones."

Jing Qichi was dumbfounded.

A girl who looked delicate and graceful had carried eight and a half pounds of pears across two campuses to stand before him. How was one supposed to react to such a scene?

Huan'er, however, didn’t seem to expect a response. She moved behind him, unzipped his backpack, and started stuffing the pears inside. "The fruit shop in our campus is the only one that sells these snow pears. Eat two a day for five days—they’re good for your lungs and cough…" Halfway through, she froze. "Why is your bag so small?"

Eight and a half pounds of pears—you’d need a basket to fit them all.

"Stop… stop stuffing," Jing Qichi said, feeling the weight on his shoulders in waves. He turned to look at her struggling with the zipper. "My laptop’s in there."

"Oh." Huan'er took out three pears and placed them in his hands, then filled the remaining gaps with the medicine and syrup. Finally satisfied, she patted the bag. "There, done."She stepped back in front of him and saw Jing Qichi cradling three pears like a baby, which made her burst out laughing.

"Still laughing." The Pear King's throat was acting up again, triggering another coughing fit. Once it subsided, he immediately scolded, "Couldn’t you have bought less? Too much money to spare?"

"These were actually quite expensive, and besides, I had to show my sincerity since I came all this way." Huan'er pointed at the pears in his arms. "Why don’t you eat one?"

"I just finished eating." Jing Qichi looked down at the nearly one-pound fruit. "Let’s split one."

Huan'er was still amused and blurted out without thinking, "Two people can’t share a pear."

Can’t, separate.

"Forget it," Huan'er said with a laugh, taking one from his arms. "I’ll walk you back instead."

The moment she turned around, Tian Chi appeared in her line of sight.