Always Home

After the semester started, Huan'er became extremely busy.

On one hand, there was the unavoidable thesis pressure of being a Ph.D. student. On another, there were the rigid tasks assigned by her advisor. Additionally, she had already prepared to apply for the CSC joint training program and aimed for an even more impressive English test score. The more one desires, the more one must inevitably give. Irregular meals coupled with lack of sleep led to frequent stomach pains. The worst episode had her standing up only to collapse back into her chair in agony. In the chilly late November of the south, the cold air biting her face, the pain forced cold sweat to soak through the T-shirt beneath her sweater.

That day, she was the only one left in the lab. She first rested her head on the desk for a while, then suddenly remembered the research proposal she had just written might not have been saved. Struggling, she turned on the screen, the mouse wobbling several times before she managed to click the save button. She wanted to sip some hot water to ease the pain, but her thermos was empty. The water dispenser was just a few steps away by the window, yet she lacked the strength to even walk over. It hurt so much—as if a fist had materialized inside her body, relentlessly pounding her fragile stomach from within. One hand pressed hard against the pain point, while the other—Chen Huan'er saw her own hand trembling.

Uncontrollably, even though she hadn’t done anything, her hand just wouldn’t stop shaking.

She lay on the desk with her eyes closed, and for a moment, she thought she might not make it back to her dorm tonight.

There wasn’t a single sound around her.

Huan'er fumbled for her phone on the desk, dragged it beneath her, and called Jing Qichi.

Of course, she knew he couldn’t do anything about it, and she didn’t intend to complain to him either. She just wanted to hear his voice on a night like this.

"Huan'er," he answered quickly, "Are you back yet?"

It was noisy on his end—so noisy that Jing Qichi’s voice was almost drowned out. Huan'er frowned and asked, "Are you working overtime?"

"Yeah, the platform launch press conference is the day after tomorrow. We ran into some issues during the final testing tonight," Jing Qichi said, typing with both hands while holding the phone between his ear and shoulder. "Everyone’s at the office."

"Engineer Jing, meeting in the big conference room in five minutes," someone called out to him from the hallway.

Jing Qichi nodded. Seeing Jiang Sen approaching, he quickly vacated his seat and pointed at the screen. "Boss, take a look here." Then he straightened the phone. "Huan'er, are you still there?"

"Yeah," Huan'er replied weakly. "I won’t bother you then. Go ahead with your work."

"Wait," he sensed the frailty in her voice and pressed, "What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

"No," Huan'er was in too much pain to hold the phone, so she placed it on the desk and switched to speakerphone, clenching her fists against her stomach. "Just wanted to ask what you were up to."

At that moment, Jiang Sen stood up and, seeing him on the phone, pointed at himself and gestured toward the meeting room.

Jing Qichi grabbed him and moved the phone aside. "Is this the issue here?"

Jiang Sen replied, "We’ll discuss it at the meeting," and hurried off.

The heavyweight Medical AI platform project, three years in the making, was about to launch. Countless tests had run smoothly before, yet a glitch emerged just 48 hours before its official debut.

From Lab’s overall leader Gong Naliang down to the company’s newest intern, even colleagues outside the medical team were all staying late. Amid the chaotic clamor and unseen high-pressure tension, everyone was stretched to their limits.

Jing Qichi couldn’t shake his worry for Huan'er and asked again, "Are you really okay?"

Before he could hear her answer, Qiu Yang came over with his laptop, urging, "Stop the call. Meeting time."

"Coming.""What do you mean 'in a minute'?" Qiu Yang impatiently yanked out all the cables connected to his computer before finally grabbing both laptops and jogging toward the conference room. "Hurry up!"

Hearing Qiu Yang's voice through the phone, Huan'er urged him, "Go ahead, I'm fine."

"Later," Jing Qichi said helplessly. "We'll video call later."

"Okay." Huan'er bit her lower lip and hung up.

She couldn't bring herself to tell him about her situation now—it would only add to his troubles and pile on more anxiety.

Since parting ways during summer break, Jing Qichi had only made one trip south during the National Day holiday. He hadn't stayed the entire break—as a key member of the project, he was now training newcomers and had to lead the charge during critical phases. Overtime became routine. With no family or children, it seemed all his free time should be devoted to his thriving career. Jing Qichi rarely complained—not because he was used to it, but because Huan'er knew this was something he genuinely wanted to achieve.

So she supported him as much as she could, even if her support was only emotional.

But... perhaps the pain was too much—on this night as winter loomed, Huan'er felt helpless for the first time.

I miss you so much, and that's why I wonder why you're not here with me now.

The product launch went smoothly, and Huandao narrowly overcame its crisis.

The public only ever sees the glamour. When a last-minute flaw emerged in the project, Jiang Sen, as team leader, couldn't escape responsibility.

What followed was a closed-door meeting among top executives, blinds drawn tight—not even a mosquito could slip in.

Two hours later, the CEO, a man in his fifties, emerged with a stern face. But the next moment, facing the employees, he resumed his kindly demeanor. Standing in the hallway, he announced, "The platform launched on schedule. You've all worked hard—you are Huandao's pride."

Gong Naliang followed behind him and, sensing the tense atmosphere, tried to lighten the mood. "What, everyone exhausted already? This is just the first step of a long journey."

At that moment, Jing Qichi happened to walk out of the break room with a cup of coffee. Gong Naliang seized the opportunity to introduce him. "Director Li, this is Xiao Jing. One segment of the promotional video featured him."

"Oh, I know." Director Li walked over and patted Jing Qichi's shoulder with a smile. "The girls in marketing are all eyeing you like hungry wolves."

Someone chimed in, "Director Li, our Engineer Jing already has a girlfriend."

The atmosphere finally relaxed. Jing Qichi had only seen the CEO from afar during the lab's opening ceremony and didn't know what to say, so he simply grinned.

"Young and promising." Director Li nodded before addressing the group again. "I've always believed talent is the primary productive force. The company's success is thanks to each of you. I hope you'll find both achievement and fulfillment at Huandao."

"Thank you, Director Li!" someone shouted, followed by applause.

"Back to work," Gong Naliang signaled the end.

Only then did Jing Qichi realize everyone had been standing the whole time. And it was then he noticed Jiang Sen hadn't smiled once throughout.After the closed-door meeting concluded, rumors began circulating internally about Jiang Sen's departure. The source was untraceable—where there are people, there are always undercurrents. The gossip persisted until the Spring Festival, yet after the holiday break, no one mentioned it again. Perhaps everyone forgot after the long vacation, or perhaps Jiang Sen appeared entirely normal—still replying to emails in the early hours, occasionally losing his temper and reprimanding subordinates, and diligently proposing constructive plans at every monthly meeting.

Rumors rose and fell, just as winter gave way to spring.

In June, Huan'er received the joyous confirmation from CSC. All prior preparations had fallen into place—her supervisor was an old acquaintance of Ding Heping, a highly respected professor in the field named David from Imperial College London. Her move to the UK was now set in stone. She didn’t know whether it was sheer luck or the long-awaited reward for her past hardships, but from a results-oriented perspective, the process hardly mattered.

As for the duration, her seniors had initially suggested two years. Ding Heping, now short of a capable assistant, naturally hoped for the shortest possible time. Huan'er settled on a compromise: 18 months.

She made a quiet trip to Beijing without telling anyone. Switching from plane to bus to subway, she finally arrived at the foot of Jing Qichi’s office building at six in the evening. She messaged him asking where he was, and he replied that he hadn’t clocked out yet. Huan'er probed further, "Working overtime on a Friday?" He responded, "Not today. I can leave in half an hour."

Half an hour, Huan'er repeated to herself, then noticed a café on the ground floor of the office building and stepped inside.

As luck would have it, just as she took her first few sips of coffee and focused on scanning the crowd exiting the building, a young man in casual clothes approached her. "Hey, it really is you. Chen... Chen..."

Huan'er found him vaguely familiar, but just as he struggled to recall her name, she couldn’t quite place where or when they had met.

"Chen Huan'er, right?" the man finally said. "Long... long time no see."

His stammering helped Huan'er locate the memory—this was Liao Xinyan’s professional football player boyfriend, or rather, ex-boyfriend.

They had shared two meals together, not exactly close but at least acquainted.

Huan'er smiled at him. "It really has been a long time."

The man held a takeaway coffee cup, showing no intention to sit down. He made small talk, "You... you working in Beijing now?"

"No," Huan'er gestured toward the window with her chin. "I'm waiting for someone."

"In this building?"

"Yeah."

"What a coincidence." He pointed to another building nearby. "I... I work over there."

Huan'er was surprised. "You quit football?"

During his time with Liao Xinyan, he had been a key player for a local second-tier club, full of youthful vigor and ambition, aiming to break into the Chinese Super League and become the next Li Ming or Fan Zhiyi.

"Retired last year." He gave a self-deprecating smile. "The road... road was tough, and I wasn’t getting any younger."

Unsure how to respond, Huan'er changed the subject. "What do you do now?"

"Sports management. Helping teams arrange training... training camps and such." He fiddled with his coffee cup. "How... how’s Xinyan?"Thinking about it, it really was quite remarkable. Although Liao Xinyan's romantic track record couldn't compare to Huang Lu's, none of her ex-boyfriends had ever said a bad word about her. Every time someone asked, it was always an amicable parting where both went their separate ways. Huan'er even suspected that if their old class monitor ever got married, there might be a special table just for exes.

"She's doing just fine," Huan'er laughed. "In a couple years, we'll have to call her Director Liao."

"Director Liao," the man also laughed. "Xinyan is indeed... truly outstanding."

Huan'er glanced out the window again, but to her dismay, she met Jing Qichi's intense gaze head-on.

"I have to go," she said hurriedly, grabbing her backpack and rushing out of the café without even saying goodbye.

Jing Qichi stood at the office building entrance, his face dark with anger. "Who was that?" he demanded.

He had only seen the man's back, and... Huan'er smiling at him.

Qiu Yang, standing nearby, quickly tried to smooth things over. "Since when did our Huan'er start pulling surprise visits? When did you get here?"

"Just now," Huan'er replied, still oblivious to the brewing storm, and cheerfully teased Qiu Yang. "You seem even fairer. Did you switch serums?"

Qiu Yang patted his face. "Can you tell? You really get what you pay for."

Jing Qichi watched the man leave the café out of the corner of his eye, his expression grave. Damn it, why did it look like the guy was thinking of coming back?

He shifted positions, blocking Huan'er with his back to the man. When he turned around again, the other man was gone.

As if he didn’t know whose girl she was.

Meanwhile, Qiu Yang was still discussing skincare with Huan'er. "I was thinking of getting a nighttime hydrating mask. Help me check the ingredients later? Look how dry this part of my face is."

Just as Huan'er leaned in for a closer look, Jing Qichi yanked her away. "If you're dehydrated, drink more water. Ten liters a day, and I bet you won’t be dry."

"Don't mind him," Qiu Yang rolled his eyes. "Someone’s got a stick up their ass."

"What's wrong?" Huan'er tugged at Jing Qichi's sleeve. "Bad day at work?"

"No," Jing Qichi waved his hand irritably. He wanted to ask but didn’t want to show his anxiety—Huan'er turned heads just walking down the street. He needed to be broad-minded, to take it in stride.

Seeing the tension, Qiu Yang stepped in again. "Huan'er, do you know that guy you were talking to earlier?"

"Of course," Huan'er nodded, not thinking much of it.

This "help" only made Jing Qichi more annoyed.

"Let's go home," he said, grabbing her hand and slinging his laptop bag over his shoulder in a huff.

Huan'er hadn’t given the café encounter a second thought and was in high spirits. "What should we have for dinner?"

"Ugh, whatever."

Excited to see him, Huan'er swung his arm. "How about roast duck? I’m craving roast duck."

"Fine," Jing Qichi grumbled, turning to Qiu Yang. "That place we went to last time? Can we take the bus straight there?"

"Who wants roast duck?" Qiu Yang scoffed, fed up with his sulking. "You’re already full on vinegar. What’s the point of eating duck?"

"I am not!"

Only then did Huan'er catch on. Laughing, she ruffled Jing Qichi's hair. "Silly, that was Xinyan's ex-boyfriend. I thought you saw him."

"Xinyan? Ex..." Jing Qichi frowned. "Liao Xinyan?"

"Yeah, we’ve all had dinner together before. Don’t you remember?"

Jing Qichi fell silent.

Misunderstood. Jumped to conclusions. Acted petty.

Why hadn’t he taken a better look at the guy? He’d gone and created an imaginary rival for no reason.Huan'er shook his hand again, "I'm feeling a bit happy now."

"Happy?" Jing Qichi pinched her cheek, both annoyed and delighted, "You try switching places."

"It's over, we can't eat this meal anymore." Qiu Yang, who instantly understood everything, shouted to the heavens, "Officer, come quick! Someone's abusing dogs here!"