Always Home

Jing Qichi spotted Huan'er instantly among the crowd at the arrivals gate.

She stood at the periphery, wearing a black wool coat with a cloth bag slung over her shoulder, her hair loosely tied at the nape of her neck. Among the sea of Western faces, she looked somewhat solitary. Dragging his luggage, Jing Qichi hurried toward her, nearly bumping into someone in his haste. He muttered a not-so-smooth "Sorry," and it was that very word that made Huan'er look up. The moment their eyes met, time seemed to slow like a cinematic shot. He watched as a breathtaking smile bloomed across her face.

Like a flower unfurling, radiant in its bloom.

Huan'er ran over and threw her arms around him, hands clasped behind his neck, burying her face in his chest. She repeated the same words she'd already sent in a message, "Why did you come now of all times?"

To her, Jing Qichi's long journey must have been fueled by a desire to watch a football match—for someone who'd stayed up late since childhood to catch games, attending a Premier League match in person was likely on his bucket list. Yet this was the winter break, with all matches suspended. She couldn't fathom why he'd burn through his annual leave instead of waiting a little longer.

Jing Qichi sidestepped the question and countered, "Aren't you cold dressed so lightly?"

Everyone around them was bundled in down jackets and heavy coats. Holding her slender frame, his heart ached with concern.

"Not cold. I left late and was afraid I'd miss you, so I took a cab." Even as she said this, she let him unwind his scarf and wrap it around her neck, despite the sweat from her sprint through the airport.

"Knew you wouldn’t take care of yourself. Caught you red-handed." Jing Qichi adjusted the scarf and then took her hands in his. "Not cold? Your hands are freezing."

He rubbed her hands between his, blowing warm breath onto them. When that didn’t help fast enough, he unzipped his down jacket and tucked her hands inside against his sweater. Huan'er wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing close. The familiar warmth and long-missed scent nearly brought her to tears.

Jing Qichi ruffled her hair. "I thought you were mad at me."

Over the past three months, their communication had hardly been that of a couple. Though he knew Huan'er was busy and he himself was swamped, the lingering sense of detachment had weighed on him. He had some idea why she might be upset, but when he tried to pin it down, nothing concrete came to mind. Each time he considered asking, he worried about disturbing her work. This unease lasted right up until the plane touched down.

But seeing her fixed everything. The moment Huan'er smiled, he knew it was all okay.

It wasn’t that their bond had weakened or that there was some unspoken rift—just that too much time apart had left emotions piling up with no outlet. Processing them alone was never easy.

"I was mad," Huan'er admitted, tilting her face up to look at him. "But not mad enough to keep pretending when you're right here."

Too adorable.

Jing Qichi suddenly wanted to post something for the whole world to see— My girlfriend is too adorable.

On the subway ride back, Huan'er brought up Qi Qi. "Qi has changed so much, you wouldn’t recognize her. She planned our entire Christmas trip—hotels, tickets, even researched all the must-see spots. Remember when she and Song Cong visited us at school and fought over staying in a hostel? Now she could sleep soundly in a dormitory bunk." Huan'er paused. "She said she wants to stay here after graduation. For the freedom."

Jing Qichi nodded. "After being on your own for so long, handling everything big and small, change is inevitable.""It's a pity to think about. If Song Cong had met her now, the outcome might not have been the same." After saying this, Huan'er nervously glanced at Jing Qichi. "This stays between us. If Manman hears it, she’d probably kill me with one swipe."

"Heh." Jing Qichi chuckled. "She wouldn’t even have time for you. Du Man’s rotations keep her swamped from dawn till dusk, and Lao Song is graduating this year—nine times out of ten, he’ll end up at their school’s affiliated hospital. Eating at the same table with them is like being in the Third Hospital cafeteria. Listening to them discuss medical cases makes my head spin."

"Uncle Song must have mixed feelings," Huan'er giggled. "Four medical professionals in one family."

"Exactly. No wonder Lao Song hasn’t told Aunt Hao and the others yet. Probably trying to ease them into it gradually."

"Didn’t he mention it over New Year’s?"

"Nope." Jing Qichi shook his head. "Aunt Hao even secretly asked my mom about it, and then my mom came to me. I couldn’t handle it, so I brushed it off with 'cross that bridge when we come to it.'" He ruffled Huan'er’s hair. "I wanted to come a few days earlier to spend the holiday with you, but..."

Huan'er cut him off. "I actually didn’t want you to come."

Jing's Mother was alone, and of course, her son should stay by her side.

"There’s no holiday atmosphere here anyway, and I didn’t even get time off—just kept working as usual. Staying home was the right choice." Huan'er said, unwilling to let Jing Qichi feel even a hint of conflict.

"You..." Jing Qichi understood the meaning behind her words. A mix of guilt and warmth welled up inside him, leaving him speechless. He could only pull her tightly into his arms.

"Qi Chi," Huan'er whispered, her voice so soft only the two of them could hear. "I was actually mad at you. There was just too much going on—so much that I couldn’t control my emotions. And I kept thinking you were back home, surrounded by friends and fun, living a colorful life. Meanwhile, what was I here for?" Her voice trembled as her nose stung. "I just felt... abandoned by everyone, like even you were drifting further away."

The subway rattled on, stopping and starting as people hurried off and others shuffled on.

"How could that be?" Jing Qichi gazed at her quietly, his eyes overflowing with tenderness.

"Yeah, I know you wouldn’t. But I just couldn’t help thinking that way, couldn’t help feeling it." Huan'er sighed. "Everyone says I’m lucky, and looking back, I really am—so lucky it’s enviable. Maybe I’ve been given too much, so when even a little is taken away, it feels unfair. I’m too fragile."

"Truly fragile people don’t realize they’re fragile." Jing Qichi tapped the tip of her nose. "Our Huan'er is as tough as steel. How could temporary struggles hold you back?"

Huan'er let out a soft laugh. "You’re right."

"In my heart, you’re stronger than anyone. But Huan'er..." Jing Qichi took her hand. "You can cry, you can be angry, you can vent. I want to be your fallback. When you’re discouraged, when you’re sad, when you feel lost—in all those moments, don’t force yourself to push through alone. You can always retreat to me."

"And then what?"

"And then..." Jing Qichi blinked. "We fight the monsters together until we clear the level."

Hearing this, Huan'er relaxed, resting her head against his shoulder as if her bones had melted.From the moment she stepped out until now, she had never felt as relaxed as she did at this moment. The foreign faces around her remained the same, many subway stops were still unfamiliar, and the English conversations she overheard were still hard to place by accent. Nothing had changed, yet with Jing Qichi's arrival, it felt as though everything had transformed. She experienced a profound, all-encompassing sense of security—from the outside in.

"Why did you have to come now?" Huan'er asked again.

"To spend the Spring Festival with you."

"But you didn’t have to use up all your annual leave. The league matches are coming up soon—don’t you want to watch them?"

Jing Qichi chuckled softly. "Since when did you start caring about the Premier League?"

"Not just the Premier League," Huan'er rattled off excitedly. "We could travel around Europe—Ligue 1, Serie A, La Liga—and catch all the major leagues while we’re at it."

"Wow, you’ve really leveled up, little girl," Jing Qichi exclaimed, then added, "Even if I had the time, where would you get such a long vacation?"

"I..." Huan'er paused briefly. "I might have it by then. Don’t worry about it."

Jing Qichi had been staring at the subway route map inside the carriage. He tugged her hand. "We get off at the next stop, right?"

Huan'er checked the current stop and nodded. "Yeah. You even looked that up?"

In her memory, Jing Qichi was never the type to memorize routes. Whether going to Sishui or visiting Du Man’s place, he never had to worry about directions as long as Song Cong was around. Even when they hung out in his hometown of Beijing, Huan'er was the one who planned the routes while he followed behind. Song Cong often joked—"He’s spoiled by the two of us."

"I even used a VPN to check Google Street View," Jing Qichi said proudly. "There’s a flower shop below your place, right? And at the end of your street is a huge Tesco supermarket."

"Haha," Huan'er laughed. "So you know how to get to my school too?"

"To your school..." Jing Qichi pulled out his phone and opened Google Maps to show her. "It’s the digital age—no need to memorize everything."

The map displayed his pre-marked locations: home, school, supermarket, restaurant.

Huan'er pointed curiously at the restaurant. "What’s this?"

"The highest-rated place within two kilometers of you. We’ll try it another day."

"Sure." She then pointed at the school. "You really didn’t need to mark this one. I could take you there blindfolded."

"I was thinking of picking you up," Jing Qichi said, putting his phone away. As the train approached the station, he grabbed his luggage with one hand and wrapped the other around Huan'er’s shoulder, pulling her up. "If I’m picking you up, I’d have to find my own way."

The moment they stepped above ground, Huan'er received a call from Mark. "Chen, why didn’t you tell me you were taking leave today?"

"I emailed David. You were cc’d."

Mark retorted, "Why wasn’t I in the main recipient list? You know I never check cc’d emails."

Huan'er calmly countered, "Mark, I wasn’t aware of your habits."

Jing Qichi, noticing her darkened expression, mouthed, "What’s wrong?"

Huan'er shook her head.

"Well, now you know," Mark said, still making it sound like her fault. "It’s a busy day, everyone has tasks. Now I have to reassign work—very inconvenient."

Huan'er stayed silent.

Mark continued, "David told me about your application. Come to school tomorrow, and we’ll talk.""I won't be going in tomorrow. I've taken leave until Monday," Huan'er said somewhat petulantly. "Next week, I'm available to talk anytime that's convenient for you."

There was a brief silence on the other end before Mark replied, "Fine. The part of the thesis you're responsible for needs to be submitted by Monday. Actually, you're the only one who hasn't handed it in yet."

"OK," Huan'er asked, "Anything else?"

"That's all. See you Monday." Mark hung up.

Seeing her put away her phone, Jing Qichi finally asked, "A colleague?"

"My co-advisor."

"You two..."

"Yeah, we don't get along well." Huan'er wanted to vent her frustrations but thought he must be tired after just getting off the plane, so she sighed and said, "Let's talk about it when we get back."

Jing Qichi sensed something more in her words and frowned. "Has he been bullying you?"

Hearing those words, Huan'er suddenly felt a surge of grievance, so much so that tears welled up in her eyes.

She struggled to hold them back and changed the subject, "Look, I live in that building over there."

She didn't cry, but her voice trembled.

"Alright." Jing Qichi keenly picked up on her emotions and gave their clasped hands a gentle shake. "When we get back, I'll tell you some good news."