Always Home

After leaving the mall, Song Cong aimlessly walked forward along the road, simply unwilling to return immediately.

The wind in this unfamiliar city felt strange—dry and warm against his face.

He thought of Huan'er's question—

How many gray transactions between you two have I not known about?

To be precise, it all started when Jing Qichi changed his college application.

That summer after the big exams, Song Cong had seriously considered confessing his feelings—from the moment he handed in his last test paper all the way until after the results were released and the applications were submitted. Before he could make up his mind, on some gloomy afternoon with distant thunder, Jing Qichi said, I changed my application. I have to be by Chen Huan'er's side.

They were probably testing the Notes Alliance website at the time, but in any case, Jing Qichi had uttered those words so casually in front of him.

The moment he heard it, Song Cong understood. That girl they walked to and from school with—he liked her, and so did Jing Qichi.

Still, he asked, Why?

"No reason. Chen Huan'er watched over me once. Now it's my turn to watch over her."

That was Jing Qichi's answer. Song Cong thought he understood, but the guy himself might not have. His decision, that altered application form, would shape all the unknown paths of his future. He had equated his chosen duty with that fate.

Right then, Song Cong made his choice—he would keep the secret buried in his heart.

He wasn’t as brave as Jing Qichi, who could change his college choice—a decision affecting four years of university life and even his future—without hesitation. Nor would he ever turn against him. His mother had only been able to transfer to the logistics department thanks to Jing's Mother’s efforts. The Jing family had shown them kindness and grace.

Song Cong had simply learned adult thinking earlier than his peers—he knew what could and couldn’t be done.

Back then, he told Jing Qichi, If Huan'er gets bullied, I’m holding you responsible.

Later, Chen Huan'er got a boyfriend—suddenly, without warning, as if he’d appeared out of thin air. Song Cong didn’t understand. His friend had chased her all that way—how had someone else swooped in halfway? During one holiday, the two of them drank together, and Jing Qichi, thoroughly drunk, confessed, I wasn’t sure how she felt, so I never dared.

What if it gets awkward? What if we can’t be friends anymore? What if things can never go back to how they were? One worry after another. Song Cong understood—because he had once been the same.

That single step might seem easy, but in reality, it was staking everything on a gamble.

Truthfully, this wasn’t much of a transaction—just a choice Song Cong made at eighteen.

Just like now, standing at a green light, Qi Qi called— walk forward, or turn back?

The phone rang four times before Song Cong answered. A tearful voice came through, "Where are you? Why aren’t you back yet?"

"Coming back." He glanced up at the green light, then turned around and walked the other way.

Huan'er had just stepped out of the subway when she received a call from Jing Qichi. "Where are you?" he asked.

"I’m—" She looked up and saw his back, phone in hand. At the same moment, the wail of a siren approached, urgent and growing louder, followed by a red fire truck speeding past in a flash.

Jing Qichi stood frozen in place, only his head turning to follow the truck until it disappeared into the distance.

"Qi Chi," Huan'er called into the phone.

No response. His back remained to her, the phone still pressed to his ear.

Huan'er hung up and walked over, patting his shoulder from behind. "Qi Chi." "Huh? Oh, you're here." Only then did Jing Qichi hang up the phone, looking around somewhat dazedly. "Which exit did you come from? Just arrived? There are so many people here today, I was still searching..."

In the past, when he had something on his mind, he would fall into deep silence—no matter how you asked or teased, his face would remain listless. Now, for some reason, it was the opposite, as if he needed to fill the void inside him with a flood of trivial words.

Disguise had inexplicably become a compulsory life skill.

But Jing Qichi, there's really no need for that in front of me. Just looking at him, Huan'er's heart ached suddenly.

Without thinking, she stood on tiptoe and gently embraced the person before her, as if hugging a giant teddy bear. "Alright, stop thinking about it."

Even though she knew Jing Qichi couldn't possibly stop thinking—no matter how much time passed, he would keep thinking, over and over.

About that day. About that person.

Jing Qichi's chin brushed against her neck, his stubble slightly prickly. But she couldn't share his sorrow, mend his memories, or make up for his regrets. This hug was the only thing she could give him at this moment. Huan'er ruffled his hair. "Jing Qichi, have you grown taller again?"

She let go and smiled at him.

"Maybe." Jing Qichi tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his expression couldn't hide its gloom. "I can't go back this year."

"Uncle Jing is magnanimous—he wouldn't hold it against you." Huan'er tilted her head. "It's weird, though. Both your parents are so tolerant. I wonder who you inherited this 'eye for an eye' streak from."

It was most obvious on the soccer field—if someone tripped him, he'd chase them across the entire field to retaliate.

"I don't do that." The boy stubbornly shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking ahead. "Did you get them settled?"

Huan'er felt a headache coming on just thinking about it. "Don't even mention it. They started arguing the moment we got to the place. No idea if they've made up yet."

"What about?"

"About..." She shook her head. "I can't really say."

"No wonder Lao Song was acting strange." Jing Qichi frowned. "He just texted me saying you were on your way and asked to have dinner together tomorrow night. Just you, me, and him—no Qi Qi."

Huan'er stiffened. "It's not a Hongmen Banquet, is it?"

"Go back and study your Chinese—and you call yourself a grad student." Jing Qichi tapped her forehead. "If Qi Qi invited the two of us, that would be a Hongmen Banquet."

Huan'er scoffed. After walking quietly for a while, she asked, "You're not planning to take the grad school entrance exam?"

In the final year of university, suddenly more people around her were studying, as if everyone had belatedly found their direction in life.

"Nope." His answer was crisp.

"What are your plans after this, then?"

Jing Qichi countered, "What are your plans?"

Huan'er rolled her eyes. "I'm not in a hurry to think about it."

He chuckled at that. "Then what's the point of me rushing?"

Truth or lie—Huan'er couldn't tell if this guy was just careless or a master of ambiguity.

She decided to ignore him.

"Your plans are..." Jing Qichi started, then trailed off, looking at her.

What was in Huan'er's eyes?

It seemed, perhaps, there might have been a hint of expectation.

In that case—

Jing Qichi rubbed his nose and changed tack. "A great reference for me."

Huan'er turned her head away with a "hmph."

Disappointed, Chen Huan'er? Jing Qichi glanced at her pursed lips. Good, you should be.

Half an hour before lights-out, Huan'er unexpectedly received a message from Tian Chi: "Got something for you. Waiting downstairs."

The first contact since the movie theater.She stared at the message for a moment, then grabbed the coat from the back of the chair and put it on without checking the mirror before heading downstairs.

She agreed to meet because she had adjusted her mindset—no crying, no violence—meeting the criteria for an encounter with an ex.

At their usual spot outside the girls' dormitory, Tian Chi stood alone. Just like countless nights in the past when he had walked her back and they lingered reluctantly before parting, he raised his hand and smiled as she approached.

Huan'er walked over without a word, her face devoid of any expression.

It wasn’t intentional. The day had been exhausting enough, and she couldn’t be bothered to manage her expressions in front of someone who no longer mattered.

Tian Chi handed her a copy of Neuropsychology , his tone sounding somewhat ingratiating to Huan'er. "This book should be returned to you. I heard the news—congratulations on getting into grad school without exams."

Like a child who hasn’t yet received their New Year’s money, behaving impeccably polite, unaware that adults neither give more for good behavior nor less for tantrums. The child doesn’t understand that some outcomes are predetermined, believing attitude can sway decisions.

Huan'er took the book and waited for him to continue.

She simply felt that a single "I'm sorry" wasn’t enough to explain everything.

It was dorm return time, and girls from their department passing by glanced their way. Huan'er forced a smile and waved at them.

Breakups didn’t need public announcements, and this scene was likely mistaken for a couple’s lingering affection.

Tian Chi paused. "You’re staying at the university, so we’ll inevitably…"

Huan'er turned and walked away before he could finish.

He never intended to explain. Not even today, when Chen Huan'er just wanted the truth.

"Huan'er." Tian Chi caught up and blocked her path, but once standing before her, he fell silent again.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "We’ll inevitably run into each other, right? And then what?"

"I didn’t mean anything by it." Tian Chi reached out as if to pull her, but his arm slowly dropped.

"Neither did I," Huan'er said, tightening her coat and folding her arms across her chest. "Just one request."

Tian Chi looked at her. "Go ahead."

"Please—both of you—avoid me from now on." She met his gaze, her voice steady. "Because the sight of you disgusts me."

With that, she stepped around him and headed straight upstairs.

The book was new, its plastic wrap screaming its worth— I represent a clean slate.

Back in the dorm, Huan'er tossed it into a drawer. The book was innocent; donating it would’ve at least done some good.

She took off her coat and went to wash up.

While brushing her teeth, Huang Lu’s angry voice erupted outside. "Damn it, that bastard Tian Chi!"

Huan'er walked out, toothbrush in hand, to see Huang Lu—who had been lazily applying a face mask—suddenly sit up on her bed and thrust her phone forward. "See for yourself."

Tian Chi had just posted a text update: I wish I could have walked the whole journey with you, but now all I can say is—I hope you’re happy.

Huang Lu ripped off her mask and cursed. "Now I know men can be just as two-faced. Was he dumped or was it mutual? How dare he post this? Does he not know what kind of person he is? Now he’s playing the victim for the world? I’m exposing this asshole, Chen Huan'er."

"Don’t," Huan'er stopped her, placing the phone back on the bed. "Don’t waste your breath. Just delete him."

"You’re just going to take this? He hasn’t even deleted your couple photos, and now he’s selling this devoted lover act. Can’t you see he’s laying the groundwork for himself?"

Of course she could see. Actions were just to justify motives, and Tian Chi’s motives might as well be written on his face."I don't want anything to do with him anymore."

Making a scene would inevitably drag out the ex-girlfriend who was cheated on, pitied, and gossiped about. Chen Huan'er didn't want to stand in the spotlight and be judged by others.

Huang Lu threw her phone aside and flopped onto the bed. "So frustrating."

Huan'er went back to the bathroom to finish washing up. The first thing she did when she came out was to delete all contact information related to that person.

Once inseparable lovers who had pledged undying love could become complete strangers overnight, never to interact again.

Because the breakup was unpleasant—too brutal, with nothing left to cherish.

She wasn't an exception, just happened to be caught in such an ending.