Chapter Forty-Seven: Reunion

Ye Mian admitted, the new home was indeed more comfortable than the old city. The gated community was peaceful, devoid of any marketplace bustle. Living on a middle floor, she no longer worried about anyone climbing in through her window.

Yet every time she gazed out, unable to see the garden’s full canopy of leaves, there was a lingering sense that something vital was missing.

After she’d filled out her college preferences, the entire graduation holiday unfolded quietly. Ye Haisheng didn’t go out to work; another colleague took over at his employer’s house. This meant Ye Mian grew lazier by the day, pampered by her father’s attentive care: water was always boiled and poured; meals were always prepared; even the trivial task of washing dishes was effortlessly handled by him.

He even urged her daily to go out and have fun.

It was graduation season—most people were traveling or busy with summer jobs, leaving little time for friends. Of her classmates, only Jiang Yuan was free, but after spending a week together, they needed their own space.

Ye Mian found herself bored to the point of restlessness. Sometimes she thought of returning to the old city, only to remember in a daze that it had been cordoned off for redevelopment—now filled with construction crews and closed to outsiders.

One afternoon, lying on the sofa during her nap time, she picked up her phone and thought of Jiang Chen.

Jiang Chen wasn’t in the old city anymore; he must have moved again. After just a moment’s hesitation, she tapped open their chat.

[Good Sleep: Jiang Chen, is your new home in the new district?]

Ye Mian rolled over and lay on her stomach, staring at her phone, unable to sleep. Out of sheer boredom, she sent a meaningless cat meme.

Jiang Chen didn’t reply.

She could only assume he was busy—surely he’d taken on more part-time work during the holidays.

A vague disappointment settled in her heart. With a long sigh, she tossed her phone aside.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. She sat up and knocked on Ye Haisheng’s door.

“Come in,” his voice called out.

She entered, smiling, to find her father reviewing a health report on his computer. Without preamble, she said, “Dad, can I get a summer job?”

Ye Haisheng adjusted his glasses. When he worked, his tone was always calm and composed. “And why is that?”

She blinked. “I want to experience the real world.”

Her words made him laugh. “Mian Mian, you’ll have plenty of time for work in the future. Enjoy your break while you can.”

Ye Mian fiddled with her hands. She really was unbearably idle.

But since her father was rarely home for so long, and summer jobs would eat up time, it felt wrong not to spend these days with him.

So, for three long months, Ye Mian lived like a lazy little pig. She even dreamed of being in a pigsty, being weighed and sold by the kilo—her little pig mouth could only squeal in protest, unable to speak, leaving her thoroughly aggrieved.

In the end, she took up new hobbies, following online recipes and discovering a true talent for baking. The rich scent of cream and sweet pastries soothed her soul.

Every cake or batch of cookies she baked, she would share with neighbors or her father, earning rave reviews worthy of opening a shop.

Before long, late August arrived.

Ye Mian was heading off to school.

The tail end of summer was as stifling as ever.

When she left home, she brought only a few changes of clothes, her phone and charger, and a suitcase stuffed with all kinds of emergency medicine from her father.

Ye Haisheng said, “You can buy everything else once you get there. Medicine, though—you must carry it with you at all times.”

Perhaps this was a doctor’s occupational quirk.

He accompanied her to the airport, giving endless instructions before hurrying home.

With her backpack on and suitcase in tow, she passed through security and sat in the endless waiting hall, surrounded by a sea of people—some calmly seated, others shopping, and some hapless souls typing away on their laptops.

There were also fresh-faced students, like her, heading to new cities for college.

Ye Mian’s eyes kept wandering over the crowd. Jiang Chen had said he’d be attending university in Wenzhou. If luck was on her side, perhaps they’d find themselves on the same flight.

Since that final farewell, they truly hadn’t spoken.

She found herself worrying.

But Jiang Chen never appeared. Even as the plane took off, she never saw a trace of him.

Watching the rolling sea of clouds outside the window, Ye Mian snapped a photo with her phone. She comforted herself: it didn’t matter—there was only one prestigious university in Wencheng, so she and Jiang Chen were bound to meet again.

Excitement and nerves danced in her heart, her eyes curving with every smile.

After landing, she took a taxi to the campus for registration.

A banner welcoming new students hung at the gate, while older students bustled about, eager to help with luggage.

Ye Mian’s suitcase was light. She politely declined the offers and carried it herself to the girls’ dormitory.

Her new roommates seemed pleasant enough—no odd personalities among them. The girls introduced themselves and created a group chat.

Yet, on registration day, there was still no news of Jiang Chen.

The days of campus life passed quickly. She adapted with ease, getting along well with her three roommates. College life was more fulfilling than she’d imagined—even without joining any clubs, the workload kept her constantly busy.

What she hadn’t expected was that when she finally saw Jiang Chen again, he’d changed so much she scarcely recognized him.

That encounter left her completely stunned.

…

Early October.

A month into the semester, a post blew up in the campus group chat, quickly amassing thousands of likes.

The post was titled: [First Love Face School Beauty of Wenzhou University]

Opening it, she found a candid photo of herself in the library, moving books. The sunlight from the window illuminated her face as she hugged a stack of books with one arm, wiping sweat from her brow—a scene that looked almost ethereal, as if she’d been rendered with a fairy-tale filter. Beautiful and otherworldly.

The comments were a mix of reactions, but most were filled with praise.

In Room 306, Qin Feifei squinted at the screen, then leaned over to Ye Mian’s desk, grinning. “Did you see that post online? Let me be the first to kiss our first love beauty!”

Ye Mian, lost in thought, returned to herself at that. She blinked, glanced at the screen, and turned with feigned composure. “This first love face was expensive to get, you know. If you kiss me, you’ll have to take responsibility—and split your part-time wages with me.”

Qin Feifei pulled a mock-horrified face. “So materialistic!”

Ye Mian nodded. “Exactly. So, are you still up for it?”

“No way!” Qin Feifei laughed, covering her phone. “Enough, stop writing. Let’s go eat.”

Ye Mian realized she was hungry and nodded, linking arms with Qin Feifei as they headed out.

The campus cafeteria was sure to be packed, so they decided to eat off-campus.

While waiting for a taxi at the school gates, Qin Feifei kept complaining about the cafeteria’s size.

“It’s not actually that small, it’s—” Ye Mian’s voice abruptly trailed off, her unfinished words hanging in the air as she stared, transfixed, across the street.

A dozen or so meters away…