Two years later, on the lawn of the University of Edinburgh, Bai Cheng, fresh from her graduation ceremony, walked arm in arm with her mentor, Sophia, both in their graduation gowns. Today was another typical overcast day in the UK, with occasional rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds, casting soft golden lines down onto the ground.
“Charlotte, are you really going back to your country? We were hoping you’d stay and continue with a postdoctoral program or maybe help out at my psychology consultation studio,” Sophia said to Bai Cheng.
Bai Cheng smiled and replied, “Sophia, I’m sorry. As much as I love it here and everyone else, I have to go back. My family and friends are there, and I can’t leave them behind.”
“Well, alright then, Charlotte. It’s such a shame.”
They continued walking through the campus. Bai Cheng felt a strong sense of nostalgia for this elegant and professional university, where she had just completed her two-year PhD program. She took a photo of the lake next to the teaching building and asked her professor to take a picture of her in her graduation gown. She posted both pictures on her social media, with the caption: “Only the waters before my door remain, unchanged by the spring breeze.”
In An City, the first person to see Bai Cheng’s post was Kang He, who was in his business car heading to his next appointment. As he touched up his makeup and scrolled through his phone, he immediately screenshot Bai Cheng’s post and shared it in their group chat, tagging Lin Fei. This group chat didn’t include Luo Tian or Bai Cheng; it was just Lin Fei, Ling Xiang, Fang Chong, Kang He, and a few others.
“Is Bai Cheng coming back to China?” Lin Fei was the first to ask.
“The line ‘Only the waters before my door remain, unchanged by the spring breeze’ is from Returning Home by He Zhizhang. So yeah, it sounds like she’s coming back,” Ling Xiang added.
“Do you think Luo Tian has seen this?” Fang Chong asked.
“No idea. Ling Xiang, are you at the shooting range? Go see what Luo Tian’s up to,” Lin Fei said.
“I’m not at the range. I’m out handling business. Why are you all in such a rush? Luo Tian will see it soon enough.”
“What do you think his reaction will be?” Da Liu chimed in cautiously.
The group went silent for a moment until Kang He finally broke the ice. “He’ll probably be super happy. Maybe so happy he won’t even go to work.”
“You think he’s like you, skipping work whenever he feels like it? I bet Luo Tian will finish today’s classes like usual, calmly drive home, grab a beer, and then cry,” Da Liu replied.
“Agreed,” Da Li, who had been silently watching the conversation, finally said.
“Agreed,” Fang Chong echoed.
“Agreed.”
“Agreed.”
“Agreed.”
Each of them added their own “Agreed,” one after the other.
Meanwhile, Luo Tian had just finished teaching his shooting and combat classes. After showering, changing into clean clothes, and drying his hair, he was walking out of the locker room when he finally saw Bai Cheng’s social media post.
He froze as soon as he saw her picture. Standing still, he opened her photo in her graduation gown, zooming in to focus on her smiling face. He stood there staring at the picture for a long while before he suddenly looked up and caught his own reflection in the large mirror on the locker room wall.
He stepped closer to the mirror, inspecting himself.
Two years ago, after Bai Cheng left the country, he resigned from his position as the captain of the narcotics squad. He had taken a brief trip to Lijiang to rest and spent a month with Zheng Xing and the others. Afterward, he returned to An City and began working as a coach at Ling Xiang’s gym, teaching both shooting and combat, though he only taught male students.
Over these two years, many female students had shown interest in him, with some even following him home or waiting for him outside his apartment. But Luo Tian had turned them all down politely. Eventually, he decided to buy himself a platinum ring and wore it on his left ring finger. This worked surprisingly well—though there were still a few women who tried to flirt with him, the numbers had significantly dropped.
Luo Tian extended his left hand, looking at the ring on his finger—a platinum Cartier band with three small diamonds embedded in it. Under the dim locker room lights, the diamonds still gleamed brightly.
He pulled off the ring and slipped it into his pocket before leaving the locker room.
As Da Liu had predicted, Luo Tian remained calm as he left the gym, calmly drove home, and grabbed a six-pack of beer from the fridge. He placed it on the carpet, where Pharaoh, his dog, lay obediently at his feet, watching him.
Luo Tian patted Pharaoh’s head and said, “Pharaoh, it’s only been two years, and you’ve aged so much.” Then, talking to himself, he added, “It’s not just you—I’ve aged a lot too.”
He opened a bottle of beer and took a big gulp. Then he pulled out his phone, opened Bai Cheng’s post, and held her picture up to Pharaoh. “But why hasn’t she aged at all?”
Pharaoh, seeing Bai Cheng’s face on the screen, barked excitedly.
Luo Tian tossed the phone onto the carpet. Pharaoh placed his paws on it, nuzzling the screen as if trying to get closer to Bai Cheng’s image.
“Pharaoh, it’s like only the two of us have gotten older. Do you think she’s ever thought about us?” Luo Tian muttered as he pulled the ring from his pocket, holding it up to the light before suddenly throwing it out the window. “She’s coming back. What are we going to do?”
With that, Luo Tian finished the rest of his beer in one gulp.
The next day, Luo Tian woke up from his hangover. He drank a large glass of honey milk to ease his headache and then went back to sleep for a bit. After the alarm went off again, he finally got up, took a shower, and changed into fresh clothes. He even sprayed on some cologne to mask the smell of alcohol, not wanting to smell like booze in front of his students later that evening.
As he was about to leave, he noticed that his left ring finger was bare. Yesterday, there had been a ring there. He rummaged through his clothes from the previous night but couldn’t find it. Then it hit him—he had thrown the ring out the window while drunk.
Luo Tian grabbed his phone and rushed outside, searching the bushes under his window, but he couldn’t find it. Running late for class, he gave up on the search and drove to the shooting range.
Bai Cheng arrived in An City that afternoon. Her father had taken time off to pick her up from the airport, while her mother stayed home to prepare a feast. She returned with the same suitcase she had left with two years ago. As she reached her front door, she noticed that the house across the street, which had once belonged to the Lu family, now had new residents. A boy of about eight or nine was playing with a Labrador in the yard. Bai Cheng glanced inside the house, seeing that the interior had been completely remodeled, and a woman she didn’t recognize was arranging flowers on the dining table.
The boy playing with the dog reminded her so much of Lu Heng as a child. Back then, Lu Heng had been just as lively and energetic.
Bai Cheng turned away from the scene and walked into her own home. As soon as she opened the door, the rich aroma of home-cooked food greeted her. Her mother was busy in the kitchen, the clanging of pots and pans creating a noise that used to annoy Bai Cheng but now sounded surprisingly pleasant.
The house smelled just the same as it always had, a mix of white tea and gardenia. Her mother mentioned that the last batch of dumplings was almost ready and asked her to wait on the couch. As Bai Cheng sat down, she opened WeChat, found Luo Tian’s chat, and clicked on it.
For the past two years, while she was abroad, she and Luo Tian had kept in touch, sharing snippets of their lives with each other. Bai Cheng liked posting on social media, knowing that Luo Tian would see her updates. Luo Tian, on the other hand, never posted anything himself. Occasionally, he would send her pictures of Pharaoh on his birthday or snapshots of the sky over An City—moments he wanted to share with her. Their most recent conversation had been just before her graduation. Bai Cheng had complained to Luo Tian about how difficult it was to finish her PhD thesis and how much hair she was losing from the stress. That very afternoon, Luo Tian had gone to see a traditional Chinese medicine doctor. By evening, he had sent her a prescription, suggesting she get the herbs from a local pharmacy. He even offered to send them from China if she couldn’t find them in the UK, along with advice from the doctor.
Bai Cheng scrolled through the last two years of chat history with Luo Tian. Their conversations weren’t overly frequent or intimate, so it didn’t take long to read through them. Finally, she clicked into Luo Tian’s social media page. His profile banner was still the same as before—an image of the ginkgo tree in her yard, taken after she had injured her ankle. Luo Tian had snapped the picture while they were all sitting together, eating takeout hotpot. His social media posts, however, were completely empty.
In two years, Luo Tian hadn’t posted anything, but he often liked her posts without ever leaving comments. Bai Cheng then scrolled through her own social media feed, revisiting the moments she had shared over the past two years. Almost always, she’d find that Luo Tian had quietly liked her updates.
She scrolled back to the top of her feed, where her profile banner displayed an image of the first snowfall of the year, taken on Laba at Kang He’s mansion. She remembered that night clearly—Luo Tian, still recovering from his injuries, had held her hand under the blanket and said, “It doesn’t matter if the moon isn’t full, as long as we’re together.”
With that memory fresh in her mind, Bai Cheng sent Luo Tian a message: “I’m back in China.”
After sending the message, her mother placed the steaming dumplings on the table, and Bai Cheng sat down to eat with her family.
She bit into a dumpling, and the hot, flavorful broth exploded in her mouth, making her taste buds dance. Just as she was savoring it, her phone chimed with a notification from Luo Tian.
Bai Cheng opened the message. Luo Tian had replied with a simple, “Good.”
His next message followed quickly: “Are you volunteering at the church this Sunday? The priest and everyone else misses you.”
Bai Cheng replied, “Of course, I miss them too.”
Luo Tian sent back a quick “Mm.”
“But I have a feeling Lin Fei will suggest we all meet up before then.”
“She’ll probably message you about it soon.”
“Mm.”
Bai Cheng set her phone down and continued eating her now-cooled dumpling, which was the perfect temperature.
Just as she expected, not long after dinner, the group chat—which had been silent for two years—finally lit up with a new message from Lin Fei: “Xiao Cheng, are you back yet? @BaiCheng.”
Bai Cheng replied, “Yes, I just got home this afternoon.”
“Let’s get together tomorrow! It’s been two years since we last saw each other,” Lin Fei suggested.
“Agreed.”
“Agreed.”
“Agreed.”
“Agreed.”
“Agreed.”
As usual, the others lined up their responses like a row of echoing voices.
After a few seconds, even Luo Tian, who rarely spoke in the group, joined in with an “Agreed.”
Bai Cheng smiled and added her own “Agreed.”
“Great! It’s settled then. Let’s meet at Kang He’s place tomorrow. It’s big and fun, and we can grill on the terrace like last time. @KangHe.”
“Why my place again? Are you all treating my house like your headquarters now? Fine, fine, whatever. But why the terrace when I have a huge banquet hall?”
“Because your banquet hall is too big! It’s hard to talk when we’re all sitting so far apart. The terrace is better. We can gather around the fire and actually feel like we’re spending time together.”
“I swear, you’re like a wild boar who can’t appreciate the finer things.”
“And you’re itching for a fight.”
“Fine. I have a late shoot tomorrow, so I’ll send the keys to Lin Fei. You guys go ahead, and I’ll catch up after I finish. @Everyone.”
“Got it. Try to finish early, or all the good food will be gone by the time you get there.”
“Like I’d care if you guys ate it all. This young master doesn’t need your scraps.”
As Bai Cheng watched Lin Fei and Kang He bicker in the group chat, she felt that everything familiar had returned. It was as if the past two years hadn’t changed anything, as though time had paused and resumed without any real disruption.
Two years—how much had everyone changed? Luo Tian, what kind of person have you become?
In these two years, have you thought about me?
Has the empty space in your life been filled by someone new? Have I already become just a distant, blurry memory, someone from your past who’s now only a bystander, a figure cheering from the sidelines?
Luo Tian, the truth is, I’ve missed you a lot.
