Always Home

After dinner, the four of them set off together for the melon fields.

The nearly three-kilometer journey would usually prompt Du Man to suggest driving, but the hearty fish stew had left them all so full that even standing felt like a workout. Walking was the perfect way to digest.

Under the stars and moon, accompanied by the occasional bark of a dog, the rural night was always refreshing. Huan'er and Du Man walked in the middle, flanked by Jing Qichi and Song Cong on either side. The four joked that anyone watching might mistake them for a gang heading to a brawl. After a while, the view opened up to reveal vast, endless melon fields. Jing Qichi exclaimed, "So this is where all the watermelons I've eaten before came from!"

"The ones you're eating now might be from here too," Du Man chimed in. "The truck that came to pick them up today was from Beijing. Isn’t it funny? I might’ve been paying top dollar at school for melons grown right here at home."

Huan'er patted her stomach. "Blame your family’s cooking—I don’t even have room for a single bite more."

"Walk it off. Later, if you’re thirsty, just pick one from the field and eat it."

Song Cong pointed at her. "Perfect timing for Huan'er to demonstrate her bare-handed melon-opening skills."

Du Man’s eyes widened. "Bare-handed… melon-opening?"

"She can really do it," Song Cong laughed. "Watermelons, apples… what else was there?"

"Pears," Jing Qichi added casually.

"Pears?" Song Cong looked puzzled. "I don’t remember you splitting a pear."

That was the aftermath of the eight-and-a-half-pound duck pear incident. Later that day, they ran into Qiu Yang, who, seeing Jing Qichi holding a pear in each hand, insisted on "lightening his load." Naturally, Jing Qichi couldn’t bear to part with the pears Huan'er had painstakingly brought, so he offered the one he’d already taken two bites from. Qiu Yang, ever fastidious, protested, "How stingy! You’ve already eaten it—how am I supposed to?" That’s when Huan'er stepped in. Under the two boys’ astonished gazes, she forcefully split the pear in half and handed the untouched portion to a dumbfounded Qiu Yang. The conclusion? Qiu Yang later earnestly advised Jing Qichi, "You should really practice more."

"You think I’d let you know everything?" Jing Qichi shot Song Cong a smug look at the memory.

"Here we go again." Song Cong shook his head helplessly, grabbing Du Man’s wrist. "Let’s go. This is painful to watch."

Watching her friends run ahead, Huan'er stopped walking. "Qi Chi, I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?"

"Next semester…" Huan'er lowered her head slightly. "I want to apply for a joint training program. Based on my current situation, a senior in my lab said it shouldn’t be a problem. It might be in the UK or the US. If all goes well, I’d leave the following year."

Chen Huan'er’s path had already widened under her own efforts, stretching further and further ahead.

This was a fact—and a foreseeable future.

Jing Qichi took her hand. "Look at me."

Huan'er raised her head.

"Am I the first to know about this?"

She hadn’t expected this reaction from him. She nodded.

During their doctoral studies, the two had had some disagreements, and that experience had taught Huan'er that even decisions still in the making should be shared with him first—in a way, she felt they were bound together.

Or perhaps, she had learned to include him in her future.

"I’m really happy," Jing Qichi said, the corner of his mouth quirking up, a charming dimple appearing on his right cheek.

"What else?"

"What else…" He couldn’t think of anything else for the moment. Noticing a few wildflowers growing by the roadside behind her, he stepped forward, plucked two, stripped away the leaves, and tucked the small white blossoms into her tied-up bun. As he adjusted them, he added, "I’ll come visit you during the break."It wasn’t even a love confession—more like a plan.

Yet that was exactly how it felt to be by his side: steady, reassuring. Even if she did nothing and thought of nothing, he would take care of everything.

Steadiness—the boundless tenderness in the slow-flowing days.

Huan’er wrapped her arms around his waist. “Do you blame me for being heartless?”

“How could I?” Jing Qichi let her hold him. “When it comes to your wishes, I’ll do everything in my power to fulfill them. As for what I can’t do, you’ll have to work for it yourself. But no matter what, when you feel like you can’t hold on anymore, I’ll always be there to catch you. Just remember that.”

“No matter when?”

“No matter when.”

“Qi Chi,” Huan’er hooked her arms around his neck, her eyes bright as stars, “you’re not doing this out of gratitude, are you?”

She had wanted to ask this for a long time, but it always felt too exaggerated to voice—as if she never truly trusted his feelings for her.

She just wanted to know how much of it was still tangled with remnants of the past.

Jing Qichi looked at her and sighed softly.

“Never mind, I just—” Huan’er tried to let go.

But then, Jing Qichi pulled her tightly into his arms.

“When it comes to you,” he said, word by word, “I’ve never once acted out of gratitude.”

Huan’er listened to his heartbeat, just like the first time he held her when she was eighteen.

“This is something it took me a long time to understand,” Jing Qichi said softly. “I used to always say I owed you and would repay you next time, but I don’t even remember how much I owed or whether I ever repaid it. So, Huan’er, debt and repayment mean nothing to me. Maybe deep down, I just wanted more connections with you, to keep you by my side for a long, long time.”

Jing Qichi cupped her face in his hands. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Mm.” Huan’er suddenly felt her own petty thoughts were so trivial. She tried to explain, “I didn’t actually—”

Her words were sealed by Jing Qichi’s kiss.

No explanation was needed—he already knew everything.

She closed her eyes, rose on her tiptoes, and lost herself completely in this soft summer night in the countryside.

The four of them returned to the Du family’s home at two in the morning.

Huan’er and Du Man shared a room. They turned on the air conditioning, snuggled under the blankets, and lay facing each other comfortably.

“Those two are going to suffer,” Du Man said with a laugh. The guest room only had a floor fan, and even so, the heat would surely be unbearable.

Huan’er whispered girl talk to her. “How far have you and Song Cong gotten?”

“What do you mean, how far?” Du Man blushed. “We just talked about school and research topics. He gave me some advice.”

“That blockhead.” Huan’er sighed in exasperation, rolling onto her stomach to face her friend. “Manman, be honest—what do you think of Song Cong?”

“Well… he’s a very good person.”

“Wow, that’s high praise!” Huan’er teased. “In your eyes, he’s actually a person!”

Du Man giggled. “Careful, I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

“He’s never treated like one,” Huan’er said, counting on her fingers. “Top student, genius, saint—ever since I’ve known Song Cong, that’s all he’s been. After Aunt Hao—oh, that’s Song Cong’s mom—had her accident, people became even harsher toward him. He couldn’t show weakness or cry because Song Cong had to be stronger than everyone else, Song Cong always had a solution.” Huan’er pursed her lips. “But he’s not actually a god. How could he have all the answers?”

Du Man was silent for a long moment before asking, “How is his mom now?”"Super great." Huan'er blinked, "With an amazing mindset and smooth rehab, Aunt Hao is really something."

Du Man said softly, "It's like heaven granted their wish."

Huan'er nodded in the dark, "So, Song Cong is just someone's child too, at most a slightly smarter ordinary person."

Du Man feigned surprise, "Slightly?"

"Okay... quite a bit smarter." Huan'er playfully stuck out her tongue. "Anyway, to you he's just an ordinary guy. Song Cong got lucky too."

"Of course he is," Du Man murmured, "Flaws and temper, who doesn't have those."

Huan'er moved closer and asked, "Manman, did you like him back in high school?"

Du Man shook her head, "I never thought about it."

Her high school days were filled with endless workbooks, unceasing exams, and one ranking list after another. Back then, Song Cong was just the classmate behind her—the effortlessly top-ranked study committee member. Far from envy or jealousy, knowing the gap between them and driven by an urgent desire to change, Du Man had no extra energy to consider anything else.

"Back then," Du Man pinched her friend's cheek, "if I had to name a regret, it's never biking back to the Family Compound with you guys even once."

Life always has regrets you only realize in hindsight.

"Don't worry," Huan'er looked at her, "You're together now, aren't you?"

Fortunately, those regrets blossomed into flowers in the long years that followed.

"What's this on your head?" Du Man noticed the tiny herb nestled in her hair. "Isn't it uncomfortable sleeping with your hair tied up?"

"A gift." Huan'er smiled faintly.

"Pfft," Du Man naturally guessed who gave it, looking disdainful, "You didn't even wash your hair just to keep it. Do you like Xiao Jing that much?"

"Little sis," Huan'er rolled onto her back, closing her eyes at the ceiling, "Your day will come too."

"What day?"

"The day," Huan'er tapped her chest, "when just thinking of him makes your heart feel heavy here."