“2017.08.29 Weather clear”
948th place—8th place, the distance between you and me.
The world’s largest passenger aircraft, the Air Force A380, has a fuselage length of 72.7 meters. Even if we were at opposite ends, with such a vast distance, I would still steadfastly draw closer to you.
— Excerpt from Tao Shuran’s Diary
“Awesome, my bro A Jing skipped the exam and still managed to get eighth in one subject.”
A brief burst of discussion erupted around her due to Liang Yuanjing’s arrival.
Tao Shuran clearly felt the crowd’s focus shifting toward her area, with many people openly or covertly squeezing over, blocking her spot impenetrably.
Someone in the crowd pried open a gap and pushed in, forcing Tao Shuran to stagger backward.
Just as she was about to fall, someone reached out and steadied her arm.
It was only a momentary touch, but Tao Shuran turned her head, finally having a legitimate reason to look at him.
She said softly, “Thank you.”
Liang Yuanjing slightly raised his chin, acting as if he did not care at all.
After glancing at the scores, he turned to leave, only to have someone block his path.
“Liang, Liang Yuanjing, I’m Wen Fangfang.”
“I saw you got a perfect score in math this time. There’s one question I don’t understand. Could you explain it to me?”
The girl’s voice trembled with nervousness, but at that moment, Tao Shuran envied her courage.
Liang Yuanjing lowered his gaze for a glance, then unhesitatingly pulled Fu Changpei, who was standing beside him, forward.
“For explaining questions, find him.”
The young man’s voice was low and excessively cold, his arrogant demeanor unchanged as he turned and walked away.
Wen Fangfang was the class rep of their Arts Class 1. The young girl had strong self-esteem, and not getting the person she wanted to explain left her feeling aggrieved, her eyes reddening.
Fang Qingyi leaned in and whispered, “Get used to it. That’s just Liang Yuanjing—bad temper, no mercy for any girl.”
But Tao Shuran stared dazedly at his departing back.
“Ranran, what are you spacing out for? We’re going to first period.”
First period was Chinese class. Just before it started, the back door suddenly opened, and a row of boys carried stools in, clattering loudly.
Tao Shuran, sitting in the last row, jumped in fright.
Yet everyone in the class acted as if it were nothing unusual.
Fang Qingyi turned and explained to her, “They’re from Flight Class. The class only has a dozen or so people. They usually audit Arts Class 1 for liberal arts and Science Class 4 for sciences.”
Both Arts Class 1 and Science Class 4 were key classes. With only a limited number of top teachers in the school, to ensure teaching quality, the school had Flight Class students attend classes with the key classes.
Flight Class students were selected nationwide through the Air Force Youth Aviation Program, starting from junior high. They had to pass medical, psychological, and political evaluations.
Not only did they require superior physical fitness, but their middle school exam scores also had to be in the top 10% of the city.
Selected students entered the high school division of Fuqing Affiliated High School’s Linchuan Campus for training, jointly managed by the school and the air force, with flight experience programs each summer vacation.
After rigorous selections, only about a dozen remained in Flight Class.
Even among those who entered Flight Class, the ones who truly joined the air force ranks were one in ten thousand.
And Liang Yuanjing was one of the top performers among them.
Wen Fangfang, sitting next to Fang Qingyi, leaned over and whispered, “But I’m really curious—how did someone with your grades transfer into our key liberal arts class?”
The implication was obvious.
Tao Shuran bit her lower lip and said nothing.
Transferring into a new environment, especially at this critical point in senior year, naturally drew a lot of discussion.
Moreover, with Tao Shuran’s introverted personality, classmates’ curiosity toward her carried more scrutiny.
Now facing such blatant questioning, she did not know what to say.
Fang Qingyi jumped in to defend her, “Wen Fangfang, you have no emotional intelligence when you talk. No wonder Liang Yuanjing ignored you.”
“What does it matter how she got in? She just didn’t do well on one baseline exam. There’s still plenty of time.”
“It’s not long.”
Wen Fangfang pushed up her glasses. “There are only 284 days until the Gaokao.”
…
Liang Yuanjing entered and scanned the room, finding his usual spot taken by a girl.
He glanced at it, ignored Zhao Zhengnian’s burning gaze, and casually carried his stool to an empty corner in the last row.
Tao Shuran paused as she flipped open her test paper, instinctively turning the score side face down.
Zhao Zhengnian turned and said, “A Jing, want to sit here with me?”
“What for?”
Liang Yuanjing looked up. “Won’t it disturb someone studying?”
Suddenly named, Tao Shuran tensed all over. Though he had not mentioned her name, anything related to her instantly captured all her attention.
Tao Shuran bit her lower lip.
She knew it was impolite, but she could not stop herself from drawing closer to him, paying attention to every word he said.
Zhao Zhengnian and Liang Yuanjing were discussing the recent basketball game.
They had stayed up until 5 a.m. the night before and were still excited, though Zhao Zhengnian did most of the talking while Liang Yuanjing lazily responded now and then, seeming drowsy.
Tao Shuran did not understand much.
Soon, the bell rang, and the Chinese teacher walked in from the front door with the test papers.
The teacher glanced back. The rear was packed with tall guys, filling the classroom to the brim, waves of heat rolling forward.
She turned down the air conditioner by two degrees. Without looking up, Yu Caiying called roll. “Liang Yuanjing, don’t hide in the back and nap.”
“Move up one row.”
Suddenly called out, Liang Yuanjing seemed utterly unfazed, as if used to it.
He stood, tall and lanky, hooked his long leg, and shifted the entire seat forward a row.
Just like that, he sat in the aisle next to Tao Shuran.
His propped elbow took up half her desk space, making her extremely uncomfortable, unsure where to put her gaze.
Zhao Zhengnian beside her did not notice her change and continued chatting with Liang Yuanjing, head hooked over.
Liang Yuanjing turned his head slightly and gave a “Mm.”
Now she was sandwiched in the middle, as if he were speaking while looking at her.
On the podium, Yu Caiying began lecturing on the mock exam paper.
From the corner of his eye, Liang Yuanjing caught her slightly flushed cheeks and rigidly straight back from sitting too properly.
He smiled, propped his chin on his hand, and started to sleep.
Tao Shuran let out a deep breath. She sneaked a peek downward at the shadow his eyelashes cast under his eyes.
Suddenly, his eyelids twitched, and she hurriedly looked away in a panic, afraid he would open his eyes the next second.
Focus on the lesson.
Tao Shuran hypnotized herself inwardly, trying hard to ignore his presence.
On the podium, the Chinese teacher went through question after question. With so many questions, only this one class period was allocated, so basic ones were skipped.
For example, the easiest giveaway points—ancient poetry recitation.
For Affiliated Middle School students with high standards, losing points on such questions was intolerable.
Yu Caiying slapped the desk. “Everyone who messed up the ancient poetry recitation, stand up.”
A few students stood sporadically around the class, including Tao Shuran, who probably had the most wrong.
“Before summer vacation, I told you to memorize everything required. Everyone who got them wrong, copy the originals ten times each and hand them to my office before class tomorrow.”
“Alright, sit down.”
“Wait, Tao Shuran, you keep standing—”
Tao Shuran had just started to sit with the others when Teacher Yu suddenly called her name. Her heart sank with a bad feeling.
“Out of ten ancient poems, you got six wrong—not miswritten characters, but blank lines because you couldn’t write them. Did you not memorize them at all?”
“Sorry, Teacher. I haven’t learned these texts yet, so I didn’t memorize them.”
“We’re already on the second review round. You haven’t learned them?” Yu Caiying’s tone was stern. “Affiliated Middle School has never had a student this deficient in basics.”
Tao Shuran lowered her head, biting her lip hard.
Murmurs rose around her again, turning Wen Fangfang’s earlier question into the center of everyone’s discussion.
Yu Caiying asked her directly, “How did you get into the key class?”
Embarrassment flooded her. Her lips paled from biting, her face ashen.
Tao Shuran heard laughter nearby. Classmates whispered, a few lines clear in her ears.
“Must’ve pulled strings to get in.”
“Grades this bad, and still shows up—embarrassing.”
“Kids from small places are like that, haven’t even finished the textbook.”
At that moment, the person napping on the desk beside her stirred, seemingly woken by the noise.
Liang Yuanjing stretched out his leg and kicked the front desk leg.
Without much force, his just-woken voice was hoarse. “Classmate, you’re too loud.”
The most vocal gossiping classmate shut up awkwardly.
At that point, Yu Caiying’s gaze shifted back to Liang Yuanjing’s face.
Her anger redirected, she said to him, “Liang Yuanjing, tell me why you skipped my Chinese.”
“Do you have some issue with my subject?”
“No.” Liang Yuanjing did not lift his head, his dark lashes lowered as he idly toyed with a ballpoint pen on the desk, bored.
“Too sleepy in the morning, couldn’t get up.”
His voice carried a hint of amusement, joking around.
“Sorry, Teacher. I’ll definitely take it next time.”
Yu Caiying’s expression softened slightly. “If you don’t pull our class average up by five points next time, you’ll answer to me.”
Teachers always favored good students, and Tao Shuran seemed to benefit too. After a bit, Yu Caiying let her sit and told her to put in extra effort after class.
Tao Shuran obediently replied, “Okay.”
She pulled a bright yellow sticky note from her pencil case, thought for a moment, then wrote a message and carefully passed it over.
—“Thank you for bailing me out.”
He did not have to make such a commotion, Tao Shuran knew.
Liang Yuanjing lowered his lashes to look at the note stuck on his desk. The girl’s handwriting was bright and elegant, standard regular script, neat like her.
Another “thank you.”
He found it amusing. Why did every one of their encounters start with “thank you”?
Liang Yuanjing pressed his tongue against the inside of his right cheek and returned the sticky note.
Laziness radiated from him as he drawled, “Is that so? Did I?”
As if she were overthinking it.
But it was not like that. He had always been like this—subtly helpful, never wanting credit.
Tao Shuran had always known.
Because the story of how she knew him dated back to the summer three years ago.
Three years ago that summer was the pivotal year before high school.
Zhao Yanyun signed her up for the Bingxin Essay Competition to cultivate her writing skills.
That was Tao Shuran’s first time in Fuqing. In July and August, Fuqing entered its hottest phase of the year, nearing 40 degrees, the air thick with humid heat.
She disliked sweltering summers and the sticky feel of sweat on her skin.
The competition was at the Youth Palace, a spot far from downtown. After it ended, a shuttle bus would take them to the station to return to their cities.
At the time, Tao Shuran was in puberty and, due to hormone medication from an illness, was in a state of excessive obesity.
She came alone to compete, knowing no one else.
She walked down the narrow aisle to a few scattered empty seats, set down her bag, and prepared to sit.
The girl in the next seat covered her nose and mouth, looking at her disdainfully. “Go sit somewhere else.”
“This seat… it’s taken!”
Tao Shuran pressed her lips together, said nothing, picked up her bag, and continued toward the back.
But it was the same everywhere. A rude boy looked straight at her. “I don’t want to sit with a fat girl like you. Too cramped.”
“It’s already hot out, sitting next to you would be even hotter.”
Laughter roared through the bus at his words.
They were all thirteen- or fourteen-year-olds, at the age most sensitive about appearances. Tao Shuran was too upset to speak.
This was not her first such humiliation. At Xianyao No. 1 Middle School, classmates did not want to befriend her either, always calling her fat and ugly, as if she brought the summer heat herself.
Today was the same.
The successive rejections had nearly driven her to collapse. The driver stood at the door and shouted, “That classmate, hurry up and find a seat. The bus is about to start.”
But no one was willing to let her sit beside them. They watched her silently, their eyes brimming with mockery.
Did fat girls deserve to die?
Tao Shuran’s eyes reddened in a circle, tears on the verge of falling.
Suddenly, an arm blocked her path.
“Classmate, sit here.”
The clear and crisp voice of a young man. Tao Shuran didn’t know how to describe the feeling in that moment; it was as if she had encountered a savior dropped from the heavens.
She looked at the boy, who wore a low-pulled baseball cap. His eyelashes were very long, lowered to cover his deep eyes. With one hand, he picked up the bag on the adjacent seat and gestured for her to sit.
Tao Shuran sat down and softly said, “Thank you.”
The boy lazily grunted “Mm,” crossed his arms, and closed his eyes, as if he were about to sleep.
Just as the door was about to close, a boy rushed up in a hurry.
“Hey! Driver, driver, wait for me. I haven’t gotten on yet.”
As soon as he boarded, he headed straight for Tao Shuran and their seat, shouting, “Liang Yuanjing, where’s the seat you saved for me?”
So that was his name, Liang Yuanjing.
Tao Shuran immediately stood up awkwardly, realizing that the seat she was in might be his.
Liang Yuanjing reached out and pressed down on her shoulder, patting it lightly. For some reason, Tao Shuran read reassurance in the gesture.
Perhaps it was because when she had thrown a tantrum and refused to sleep as a child, her grandmother had always patted her back with just such force.
She saw Liang Yuanjing toss the bag from his lap into the other boy’s arms.
His tone was arrogant and tough: “Get lost and sit in the back.”
The boy responded with an “Oh” and sat down behind them.
The rest of the ride passed in silence. When the bus reached its destination, out of habit, Tao Shuran got off from a spot toward the back.
Her gaze had been fixed on Liang Yuanjing and his friend ahead of them the whole time. The two walked off shoulder to shoulder.
He looked to be about 1.8 meters tall, his shadow stretching into a long line on the ground. With a light step of her leg, she could have stepped on it.
But Tao Shuran couldn’t bear to step on his shadow.
She followed slowly behind him when suddenly her gaze halted. She squatted down and picked up a contestant badge from the ground.
It had information about the contestant on it.
The one Tao Shuran picked up belonged to Liang Yuanjing.
She hurriedly tried to catch up to him, but when she looked up, the two figures had vanished from sight. In the vast bus station, she was left alone.
Later, during the wait for the next bus, Tao Shuran took out the contestant badge again to look at it.
The badge had a two-inch photo on a blue background. The boy had a face that could serve as a model—high cheekbones and a sharp jawline forming clear angles, lines as defined as a sculpture, deep brows and eyes, a high nose bridge. He was the type who stood out dazzlingly in a crowd, impossible to miss at a glance.
Name: Liang Yuanjing
Group: English Competition Group 1
Contact: [email protected]
As if guided by some unseen force, Tao Shuran memorized the string of numbers.
Back home, she turned on the old desktop computer.
The computer booted slowly; clearing the cache alone took more than ten minutes, but her heart raced the whole time.
She opened the seldom-used QQ and tried searching for the account. Sure enough, she found him, as if heaven had granted her this fateful connection.
Tao Shuran bit her lower lip in hesitation, still lacking the courage to add him as a contact.
After all, to Liang Yuanjing, they had only been chance acquaintances.
After much thought, Tao Shuran opened her email and sent a solemn message.
“Hello, I’m a contestant in this Bingxin Essay Challenge. I happened to see your English composition and thought it was very well-written. Could we discuss studying together?”
After sending the email, Tao Shuran strangely calmed down, even preparing herself for it to sink into the sea without reply.
Yet unexpectedly, after a while, she received a response.
“What should I call you?”
Joy rushed to her head, dizzying her. After much hesitation, she cautiously replied—
“You can call me R. There’s an R in my name.”
“Interesting.”
“I’m Liang Yuanjing.”
She worded it carefully: “Then I’ll call you Y. We can exchange more about studying in the future.”
…
The bell rang, signaling the end of class. For Tao Shuran, this endlessly long forty-five minutes finally came to a close.
She turned her head to look at Liang Yuanjing. He still hadn’t woken up. The wind from the window blew the soft hair on his forehead, and the perfect light and shadow fell on his sharply angled profile.
Even the light and shadow favored him.
Amid the boisterous crowd, she alone stole glances at him from her quiet corner.
And silently said—
‘Dear Y, we’ve finally met again.’