Always Home

Everything pales in comparison.

The whispers behind her back had once stabbed at Chen Huan'er's spine like needles, but now that she found herself staring into a foggy future with no clue what she even wanted to do, she had no energy left to spare for rumors.

After all, the former was false, while the latter was painfully real.

Because she neither listened nor dwelled on it, she didn't even notice when people stopped talking about the matter.

It was like a sudden gust of wind—arriving with such ferocity that it seemed the sky might collapse, only to pass by leaving nothing more than a layer of dust and a few fallen leaves.

Ah, the lives of teenagers—always filled with something new.

The first piece of good news about the big exam came from Jing Qichi, who had successfully passed the football specialization test, meaning he was halfway through Tianzhong High's doors.

Or, more accurately, it was practically a done deal. True, he was last in class—but that was last in the Fast Class, which ranked above ten regular classes. Even if he scored dozens of points lower, he'd still clear the Special Enrollment Student cutoff.

That day, the three mothers returned from picking wild vegetables in the suburbs and gathered at the Chen household to steam several trays of vegetable-and-meat buns. Jing Qichi and Song Cong were still at the soccer field, while Huan'er was working on practice problems when her mother dragged her out of her room. "Sitting in one spot all day, your bones are going soft. Get up and move around."

She had no choice but to obey. Exam candidates were like foals on a racetrack—except while other parents frantically urged theirs forward with little whips, hers kept yanking her back by the neck after every two steps, terrified she might stumble, fall, or—heaven forbid—revive a dead horse.

Absolutely no professionalism.

Huan'er greeted the two aunties, washed her hands, and stood idly at the dining table, toying with the flour.

Song Ma asked, "Did you two talk to Qi Chi about the call from the sports school?"

"We did. We gave our opinions, but the decision was his to make," Jing's Mother replied as she mixed the filling. "He must have thought it over all night—his light was still on past one when I checked."

Jing Qichi had already decided on Tianzhong, and these past few days, he'd been as carefree as ever, showing no particular excitement. So that was why—if he wanted to be a professional athlete, Tianzhong naturally wasn't the first choice.

Huan'er hadn't known the sports school had extended an olive branch and was slightly surprised. To her, he was the stubborn type who, once set on something, couldn't be pulled back even by eight oxen. She'd lost count of how many times Jing Qichi had been scolded by the dean for skipping self-study to practice, yet never once had he backed down.

"That makes sense," Song Ma nodded. "Last time when the Football Academy came to recruit, it didn't work out. Now that there's another chance, the kid must still be thinking about it."

Chen Ma, unaware of the backstory, asked, "Why didn't it work out last time?"

"He was supposed to go," Jing's Mother explained. "Qi Chi had been attending football training classes for years, and a few years back, the Football Academy came scouting and took a liking to him. They were affiliated with a Professional Club, and his dad even went with him to meet the coach and pass the tests. But not long after, while playing around with some kids, he injured his knee joint. He was already covered in big and small injuries, and Lao Song examined him, saying he had to stop for a while or it'd leave lasting damage. That time was pretty serious—it took a long time for him to recover to his previous level. But between the injury and the fact that they had plenty of other prospects who wouldn't wait around for just one kid, it fell through in the end. Honestly, it's my fault. His dad was quite invested, but I always thought sending him to train as a kid was just to develop a hobby—the professional path isn't that easy, you know? But looking back, he'd already made it to a Professional Club—what parent wouldn't be watching over every little thing? Ah. In the end, it's all on me.""Alright, it's all in the past," Song Ma comforted. "Tianzhong High might not be so bad. If he gets in as a Special Enrollment Student and trains well, there's still a chance. Even if it doesn’t work out, at least it’s a backup plan."

"Exactly," Chen Ma chimed in. "Qi Chi isn’t the kind of kid who lacks self-awareness. You should trust him."

The time meant for memorizing textbooks and solving problems was unhesitatingly devoted to the soccer field instead. Jing Qichi wasn’t defying the principal—he was defying himself. To do his best within his physical limits, and if even that best fell short of professional standards, only then would he give up.

This was an ungraded subjective test, its answer yet to be revealed.

"Huan'er," Jing's Mother called out, "you and Song Cong must keep an eye on him for me. Honestly, out of the three kids, mine is the only troublemaker."

Huan'er lowered her eyes. "I might not even get into Tianzhong High myself."

"Face each challenge as it comes," Chen Ma said, glancing at her daughter with a smile. "Don’t shrink back before you’ve even started."

"Right," Song Ma patted her shoulder. "Our little Huan'er has weathered storms before. She’ll surely pass the exams with ease."

A rapid knock interrupted them. Huan'er brushed the flour off her palms. "I’ll get the door."

"Daughters are truly a blessing," Jing's Mother sighed as she watched her son stride in, his soccer jersey and shorts covered in dirt. "Li Na, I really envy you—having such a sensible child who keeps you company. She’s like a warm padded jacket in winter!"

Chen Ma teased in a low voice, "Why don’t you two try for another one? Who knows, you might strike gold."

"Pfft, this old can is probably rusted shut by now."

Just then, Song Cong peeked into the dining room. "Aunt Jing, are we having canned food today?"

The three mothers exchanged startled glances and fell silent. Song Ma shoved her son out forcefully. "What canned food? Go check on Huan'er’s homework."

"But I clearly heard—"

"You heard wrong."

"What’s the big deal?" Song Cong scratched his head, baffled. "Hiding canned food like it’s some secret..."

The countdown on the blackboard changed daily, the numbers growing smaller. When summer arrived, Chen Ba made a surprise appearance at the Family Compound. A man versed in military tactics loved launching sudden raids, startling both Chen Ma and Huan'er. They unanimously decided the visitor would treat them to a restaurant meal to calm their nerves.

Chen Ba was about to depart with his unit for the capital to carry out the Olympic Security Task. His words brimmed with apology. "Though I won’t be there for your exams, my heart is with you."

Compared to national affairs, Chen Huan'er’s middle school exams were insignificant. She felt no regret—only pride. How many dads in all of China could contribute to the Olympics at the heart of the nation?

The thought thrilled her so much she wanted to write about it in her essay. She even had a title ready: My Dad Is Different .

Hmm? Something felt off.

Noticing her daughter’s silly grin, Chen Ma raised her glass. "Snap out of it first. Come, let’s toast your dad’s departure."

"Dad, work hard and try to get on TV!" Huan'er clinked glasses with her parents. "Cheers!"

Overjoyed, Chen Ba downed his glass in one go, gesturing animatedly as he shared advice with his daughter. "The key to exams is focus. Read the questions carefully, and your pen will move like magic. Right?"

"Like magic? How many exams have you even taken?" Chen Ma scoffed, leaning toward Huan'er as if forming an alliance. "Your dad’s all talk. Don’t overthink it. Stay relaxed—do your best and leave the rest to fate."

"True, better listen to your mom. She’s taken more exams," Chen Ba conceded defeat after just one round.Huan'er sat with her cheeks propped in her hands, grinning foolishly. Her father's return seemed to bring all the joy in the world back home, though such days were far too rare. As a child, she didn’t understand. Each time before he left, she would ask when he’d return next—the answer was always too cruel for her, the wait stretching endlessly with no end in sight. And the question was too cruel for him, burdened by the guilt of never being able to meet her expectations.

Later, she stopped asking. It was a silent declaration of understanding after growing up: I get it, so no need to apologize.

We don’t get to choose our family or parents, but we can choose what kind of children we become.

“I’ve been feeling a bit lost lately,” Huan'er put down her chopsticks, resolved to share her thoughts with her parents. But bringing it up would inevitably mention Sishui, making it seem like she was blaming them for not giving her a better start in life. After much deliberation, she found herself stumbling over her words.

Chen Ma guessed, “Because of Tianzhong?” Ever since Huan'er started tutoring with Song Cong, she had suspected. Her daughter was ambitious, and she didn’t want to add pressure, so she had kept quiet.

Huan'er glanced at her parents, lowering her head slightly. “I saw Tianzhong as my goal, but everyone else just treats it as a good high school. They all know what they want to do later—they’ve known for a long time. That’s what a real goal is. But I haven’t even thought about it. My classmates joke that I’m from a small town, and I just feel… well, it’s true. I am from a small town.”

Chen Ba quickly reassured her, “Kids just say things like that for fun. And what’s wrong with being from a small town? Your mom and I both came from Sishui. Look at my unit—people from all over the country work together, and we still…”

Halfway through, he caught his wife’s pointed look and swallowed the rest of his words.

“Huan'er,” Chen Ma stroked her daughter’s head, “where you’re born—whether it’s a city or the countryside—that’s just a location, not a label. You might feel behind because you didn’t have access to more advanced things growing up, but believe me, that’s temporary. It’s something you can change with effort.”

After a pause, Chen Ma continued, “Not knowing what to do right now is a good thing, in my opinion. It means you’ve started thinking about it, exploring the question. You have plenty of time to figure it out. Take it step by step, little by little. Remember the tortoise and the hare? How did the tortoise win?”

She had forgotten that universally known fable.

Wasn’t she just that tortoise thrown into a crowd of hares?

Suddenly, it all made sense. Like solving a physics problem, Chen Huan'er had now identified the relevant concept—the next step was figuring out how to apply it to find the answer.

Noticing her expression lighten, Chen Ba seized the moment to add, “Your mom and I have talked about your future direction before. Anything’s fine, but she’s dead set against you studying medicine.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Chen Ma raised an eyebrow. “Go ask around the compound—who’d want their own kid to study medicine?”

Huan'er burst out laughing. That was the truth. Unless their child was exceptionally gifted or stubbornly determined to pursue it, few in the medical system would support that choice.

The Family Compound’s unofficial nickname—Medical Aspiration Crushing Base.

“Well… I’ll think about it carefully,” Chen Huan'er told her parents, and herself.

After dinner, Huan'er walked in the middle, flanked by her parents, as the three strolled back to the Family Compound. Chen Ba straightened her posture. “Have you been exercising lately?”

“Occasionally.”Before the words had even left her mouth, her father suddenly struck out. Instinctively, she dodged backward. In the next moment, she hooked her right arm around her father's, only to be firmly pinned. Just as she was about to counter, her mother rapped her on the back of the head with a palm. "Act a bit more like a girl."

Huan'er protested, "Dad started it—"

"Just practicing," Chen Ba said, releasing his hold and flashing an appeasing smile at his wife. He then ruffled his daughter's hair and whispered praise, "Not bad. Keep practicing, but stay safe."

Chen Ma shook her head with a sigh, while Huan'er and her father exchanged secretive grins.

Summer had arrived. It was the sweaty faces of passersby brushing past each other, the towering mountains of watermelons piled outside fruit stands, the tiny red mosquito bites dotting children's delicate skin.

Summer had many markers, but for Chen Huan'er's fifteenth summer, it was a living image: her parents by her side, their conversation endless, the road ahead stretching on without end.