Chapter Text
Leaving You, There's Nowhere to Land Anymore.
Xiao Xingchen had always been a drifting wisp of cloud.
No thread tethered him. He drifted into Professor Baoshan's home as her adopted son, spent a few years in high school in Yueyang, and then drifted again—luggage and all—all the way into Beijing.
He would never return to Yueyang. That city, along with the person and everything that came with him, was sealed inside a small train ticket, resting in his palm. The green train glowed warm in the sunset, and the journey itself felt like a destination.
"Don't think about those things anymore," Baoshan said, sighing softly. "Xingchen, your future is still long."
Xiao Xingchen nodded, but his mind was entirely on the scenery outside the window—the last time he would ever see it.
That future shouldn't have been his alone.
The train whistle blew. For a moment, he had the urge to rush out of the carriage and stay in this place forever. But he didn't move. The admission letter in his bag was red like the glazed tiles of a deep palace, locking him onto a bright, shining path. He could only walk forward.
Deep in the night, the green train was filled with snores, the grinding of teeth, and the rhythmic clatter of wheels against tracks. Xiao Xingchen tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and found himself thinking about the past again.
Back in 2001, when he first arrived in Yueyang for high school, he hadn't been so weighed down. He'd wanted to see the famous No.1 High School right away—even if just a glimpse from the gate. Baoshan told him to be careful and let him go out. Xiao Xingchen wandered around the main entrance, taking it all in, then decided to follow the snack street along the side to the back gate.
The summer sun was relentless. He wiped sweat from his forehead and suddenly remembered he should buy some water. He ducked into a small shop, rummaged through the cooler, and couldn't find any. He was about to ask the owner where the bottled water was when a figure flashed past—someone's hand, taking advantage of the open cooler, grabbed an ice pop and was about to leave.
Xiao Xingchen couldn't let a thief get away right in front of him. He reached out and grabbed the person's wrist. Looking up, he saw a boy about his age. His hair was a little long, tied into a tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck because of the heat. He glared back at Xiao Xingchen with an impatient look.
"Let go."
He said it with such righteous indignation that Xiao Xingchen found it strange. "Excuse me, aren't you going to pay for that?"
The boy clearly didn't want to give Xiao Xingchen the time of day. He jerked his chin up and tried to shake him off. "Mind your own business, grandpa? Someone's gonna pay for me anyway. And even if I don't pay, what are you gonna do? You like sticking your nose in other people's business so much, why don't you become a cop and solve a big case? Go catch those thieves on motorbikes, why don't you? Idiot."
Xiao Xingchen still held on, frowning, but almost laughed at his tirade. "You really are..."
The shop owner, who had been smoking at the counter, finally noticed the commotion. He chuckled and came over to mediate. "Hey, kid, he's got a tab here. Someone always pays it for him. What do you need?"
The boy snorted, shook off Xiao Xingchen's grip, swapped his ice pop for another one, and before leaving, deliberately bumped Xiao Xingchen with his shoulder. "Busybody. Your popsicle's melting."
Xiao Xingchen finally came to his senses, grabbed a bottle of water, paid one yuan, and continued toward the back gate of the school, thinking about the boy he'd just met. Was he a student here? No student would act like that—he seemed more like a little hoodlum.
Whose Beauty is so Fair that the Sun and Moon Envy It.
Xiao Xingchen learned the boy's name on the first day of school. He'd been made class monitor and was handing out student IDs. At the end, two were left: his own, and one with a name printed on it—Xue Yang.
He hesitated for a moment, then opened it. The photo showed a boy staring at the camera with a hint of contempt, his unruly hair falling over his brows, puffed out rebelliously. Xiao Xingchen recognized him immediately. He thought, This guy is way too free-spirited. He didn't even show up on the first day of school. Nothing about him looks like a good student. And he's in my class.
Still, the student ID, textbooks, uniform, and all the other stuff had to get to him, or he wouldn't even be able to get through the school gates—the security guard would interrogate him for sure. Xiao Xingchen thought it over and decided to take advantage of a trip to the dorms to move some things, and head to that little shop to try his luck.
Since Xue Yang had a tab there, he probably went often. Xiao Xingchen stood by the shop entrance, sweating in the heat, clutching the student ID in his hand, waiting.
Sure enough, Xue Yang showed up. He sauntered out of the school gate, his shockingly unruly hair drawing no reaction from the security guard, and headed straight for the shop to grab an ice pop. Xiao Xingchen hurried over to stop him. "Hey..."
Xue Yang recognized him too, frowning on instinct. "Who's your classmate? What do you want?"
Xiao Xingchen handed over the student ID, then the pile of other stuff. "I'm Xiao Xingchen. We're in the same class. I'm the class monitor. I need to give these to you."
Xue Yang seemed to pause for a moment, then nodded, finally giving Xiao Xingchen a proper once-over. "Class monitor? Sounds kinda impressive. But from now on, stay out of my business."
Xiao Xingchen wanted to ask why, but thought better of it and swallowed the question, replacing it with something else. "Do you want an ice pop? My treat."
He knew Xue Yang probably didn't need him to pay, but he shoved a Green Tongue into Xue Yang's hand anyway and quickly placed five jiao on the counter. Only then did he notice: even on such a hot day, Xue Yang was wearing a glove on his left hand.
Xue Yang finally grinned, revealing two sharp little canine teeth. "I told you you're an idiot. And you really are."
Before Xiao Xingchen could respond, Xue Yang headed back toward the school gate with the pile of things. So he was at school—why didn't he come to class? Xiao Xingchen grew even more curious.
Suddenly, Xue Yang's voice drifted back. "Fine. If you ever actually need to find me, I'm usually in Lab 102."
Xiao Xingchen smiled without realizing it. "Got it. Thanks."
Don't Shout — Let Youth Burn Wilder than Fire
Xiao Xingchen tried asking around about Xue Yang later, but no one had any answers. No one in the class knew him. The best they could say was that he was in their class.
It wasn't until October, when the competition results were posted on the bulletin board, that Xiao Xingchen understood. Xue Yang wasn't skipping class—he was doing chemistry competitions.
Competition students were the most mysterious group in the school. They appeared and disappeared, and the only time you heard about them was when they won something or got a recommendation for university. No wonder he was always in the lab building, and no one ever tried to enforce school rules on him.
The sports meet was coming up. Xiao Xingchen hesitated for a moment, then took the sign-up sheet and headed to the lab building to investigate. He found room 102 in the hallway and saw a light on inside. He knocked. After a moment, footsteps approached, and the door opened—it was Xue Yang. "Xiao Xingchen? What are you doing here?"
Xiao Xingchen glanced inside: books and messy papers everywhere, instruments and chemicals on the counters. Xue Yang didn't seem inclined to let him in, so he spoke quickly. "The sports meet is coming up. I came to ask if you want to sign up."
Xue Yang didn't look interested, his eyes darting around without meeting Xiao Xingchen's. Xiao Xingchen was about to turn and leave when Xue Yang suddenly spoke. "Alright. Haven't played ball in a while. How about this—you play a game with me, and then I'll tell you about signing up."
"What do you want to play?" Xiao Xingchen's lips curved slightly, his eyes bright.
"For two people, let's do one-on-one drives. Ten tries each. Whoever scores more wins." Xue Yang pulled a basketball from somewhere in the lab and tugged Xiao Xingchen outside. "And you're not allowed to report me for this."
Xiao Xingchen wanted to say that lunch break was almost over and they had to hurry, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. They reached the empty basketball court. Xiao Xingchen took his defensive stance, waiting for Xue Yang to charge, when he suddenly faked a step back, rose up from beyond the three-point line, and shot—the ball swished through the net.
"Surprised? I never said I had to get past you."
Xiao Xingchen just smiled and shook his head, watching Xue Yang's triumphant expression. "My turn."
He played straight—no tricks, just drove forward. Xue Yang moved to block him, but Xiao Xingchen switched hands behind his back, sidestepped, and scored. Xue Yang immediately turned serious. "You're actually pretty good, Xiao Xingchen."
They went to the seventh round. Xue Yang pressed in close, trying to body him past, when the warning bell rang. Xiao Xingchen flinched, his focus breaking. Xue Yang lost his balance and nearly fell, but Xiao Xingchen caught him. "I need to go, Xue Yang. Let's call it here for today."
Xue Yang wiped his face with his sleeve and snorted. "I wasn't done. Fine. You go. I'll get you the form tonight, monitor."
Xiao Xingchen nodded. He could tell Xue Yang wanted to continue—so he smiled. "Alright."
---
That night, Xiao Xingchen found Xue Yang again, and they finally finished all twenty rounds. It ended in a draw. Xue Yang glanced at him, still a little miffed. "If I hadn't been out of practice, I would've crushed you."
"If you want to practice, I'm free most days." Xiao Xingchen smiled. "Competition prep must be exhausting. Playing ball is a good break."
Xue Yang just grunted, not bothering to explain the competition details, and dragged Xiao Xingchen back to the lab to shove the form into his hands. "Done."
Xiao Xingchen was looking at the sheet when Xue Yang twisted open a cold bottle of water—beads of condensation still clinging to it—and took a long drink. Xiao Xingchen glanced over. Xue Yang caught his eye, squinted, and held the bottle out toward him. "It's cold. Want some?"
Probably another one he'd snagged from the shop. Xiao Xingchen hesitated, then took it, turned the bottle to drink the other half, and said, "Thanks."
Xue Yang stared at him for a moment. "Aren't you going back?"
"Not yet. Still a bit until evening study." Xiao Xingchen sat down in the lab, still a little awkward, and glanced at the pile of books stacked against the wall. "Are these all yours?"
Xue Yang casually picked up one that looked horrifyingly thick—Basic Organic Chemistry. "Everything in this lab is mine."
Xiao Xingchen looked down, impressed. "There's so much to learn for competitions."
"Those are university textbooks." Xue Yang puffed up again, arms crossed, looking at Xiao Xingchen sidelong. "If I get provincial first place this year—or next year—I might get a direct recommendation."
"Which school do you want to go to?" Xiao Xingchen asked.
"Either Peking or Tsinghua. But Peking's chemistry department is better than Tsinghua's, so Peking." The same defiant look from his student ID photo flickered across Xue Yang's face.
Anyone else saying that might have sounded ridiculous, but coming from Xue Yang, Xiao Xingchen somehow believed it. Xue Yang, seeing him silent, turned the question around. "What about you, monitor?"
"I..." Xiao Xingchen paused. "I'm not sure yet."
"You're not sure?" Xue Yang set down the thick textbook and laughed. "I'm stuck learning all this stuff, and even I've heard you're top of the class. Getting into those schools is a no-brainer for you."
"Not really." Xiao Xingchen's cheeks flushed slightly. "Evening study is starting. I should go."
"You're an interesting one, you know." Xue Yang watched Xiao Xingchen hurry away, then added, "If we get the chance, I hope we'll meet again in Beijing."
Xiao Xingchen turned back and looked at him, serious. "Yeah."
---
In the classroom, Xiao Xingchen began to realize how loudly his heart was beating. He kept thinking—thinking so much that he wrote the answer to a big problem in the wrong place. He had to get out the correction fluid and cover the whole thing. The titanium white spread across the page—and somehow, it still turned into Xue Yang's face.
He pushed those thoughts down, but they walked back in, one after another, and took root in his heart.
Was it because of the future? Or because of that person?