For The Rest Of Our Life – Chapter 9
by Little PandaYou Are the One Who Can Captivate Thousands of Boys and Girls
The so-called counselor meeting wasn’t really a formal or necessary procedure. Everyone moved in the same circles, and over the summer, Zhou Qin had already spoken with the college leadership here. It was just that, as one of the relatively few day students1, the counselor still needed to go through the motions before her official enrollment — a gentle talking-to, essentially. The gist was: even though she was commuting, she should still actively participate in class activities, enthusiastically sign up for student clubs and organizations, and remember that university was different from high school — she needed to integrate into campus life. The counselor also told her that morning self-study sessions were mandatory in the first semester, while evening self-study could be attended voluntarily as long as she ensured her commute was safe. Finally, she mentioned that there were two or three other day students in the class and hoped they could keep in touch and not drift apart from the larger group. Not living on campus obviously came with its share of hassles, but it wasn’t without perks — the most immediate being that day students were exempt from the morning runs, evening drills, and dormitory inspections during military training2. Lin Xian thought this was the best news she’d heard all day.
She had waited about twenty minutes for the counselor to return from a meeting, yet the actual conversation lasted barely a dozen minutes. Afterward, Lin Xian followed a senior for another ten minutes or so to the Student Life Service Center to collect her military training uniform. Back and forth, it had taken well over an hour.
Lin Xian was a little worried about making Xiao Wanqing wait too long, so the moment she received her uniform, she said goodbye to the senior, gathered it in her arms, and hurried back along the path at a jog, searching for Xiao Wanqing.
The moment she reached the School of Finance and Economics area, Lin Xian spotted Xiao Wanqing at a glance. Even from that distance, her figure so small, Lin Xian recognized her immediately.
Xiao Wanqing was standing beneath a kapok tree, farther from the bulletin board, surrounded by a stream of people and a din of chatter and laughter, yet seemingly oblivious to all of it. She stood tall and graceful, chin slightly lifted, as though she had drawn a world apart from everything around her.
Lin Xian’s hurried steps gradually slowed to a stop. Holding the uniform, she couldn’t help but furrow her brow slightly.
At that distance, she should not have been able to make out anything clearly, yet Lin Xian acutely sensed that Xiao Wanqing seemed to be sad. That realization, for some reason, made her own chest tighten for a moment.
After a beat, Lin Xian bit her lip, adjusted her expression, and strode toward Xiao Wanqing with long, purposeful steps.
After Lin Xian had left, Xiao Wanqing had at first just wandered around the finance dormitory building. But the wait stretched on, and the sun was merciless. After completing one lap and finding that Lin Xian still hadn’t returned, she found a spot with a bit of shade and shelter. She stood beneath the tall, straight kapok tree, watching the parade of passersby — the cars coming and going, parents and children laden with bags of all sizes, the eager concern on the parents’ faces, the faint impatience on the children’s…
Ten years had passed like a dream. Everything in the world had long since changed, yet the scene before her was so achingly familiar, as if the past were replaying itself.
Xiao Wanqing’s faint smile slowly faded from her lips.
When Lin Xian reached behind Xiao Wanqing, Xiao Wanqing was still lost in thought — so much so that Lin Xian stood behind her for a long while without her noticing. It wasn’t until Lin Xian freed one hand and gently tapped her left shoulder that Xiao Wanqing snapped back, turning abruptly with a face completely calm, showing no sign of having been startled.
Lin Xian blinked, then pouted in disappointment. “How come you weren’t scared at all? That’s no fun.”
Xiao Wanqing gave a small smile. Rather than scolding her for the mischief, she asked gently, “All done? Ready to go home?”
Lin Xian nodded. “Mm, all done. I don’t need to come back this afternoon — I just show up tomorrow for military training.” She hesitated briefly, then couldn’t help asking, “What were you thinking about just now? You were so lost in thought. I stood behind you for ages and you didn’t even notice.”
Xiao Wanqing’s smile stiffened almost imperceptibly, but it was gone in a flash. She didn’t hide it. Letting her smile fade slightly, she said honestly, “I was just watching parents bringing their children to campus, and it reminded me of before… of when my parents brought me here for my first registration.”
Her expression was composed, but her voice was full of longing — Lin Xian heard it clearly.
“Our home was far from here too, so I had to arrange dormitory housing. It was my first time living away from home, and I was beside myself with excitement, but my parents were worried sick, fussing and reminding me about every little thing the whole way there. My head was full of my new life and freedom — I couldn’t stand their nagging. The moment we got to campus, I rushed off to experience everything new. After they finished making my bed, I couldn’t wait to shoo them home… Ha, wasn’t that incredibly foolish…” She gave a self-deprecating laugh, the bitterness unmistakable in her smile.
Lin Xian’s heart suddenly ached. She remembered attending the funeral of Xiao Wanqing’s parents with Zhou Qin at age eleven — she had seen Xiao Wanqing kneeling beside the coffin, sobbing uncontrollably, her frame so frail.
At twenty-five, Xiao Wanqing — once the apple of her parents’ eyes — became, in a single night, a true orphan in this world. Her parents’ sudden passing was the deepest wound in Xiao Wanqing’s life, a regret that would never heal.
Lin Xian opened her mouth several times, wanting to say something to comfort Xiao Wanqing, but for a moment, words failed her. In the end, she could only look up at Xiao Wanqing and say earnestly, “I won’t drive you away.”
At those words, Xiao Wanqing’s lips curved into a smile, warmth flooding her eyes. The sorrow from a moment ago vanished completely in an instant. She reached out and took more than half the books from Lin Xian’s arms, teasing, “Of course you won’t drive me away — you still need a ride home from me. Come on…” With that, she turned and walked toward the parking lot.
Lin Xian followed close behind Xiao Wanqing, her brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. Then she smoothed her expression and looked as she normally did.
On the way home, Xiao Wanqing took a work call. In conversation, she seemed to be in excellent spirits — laughing frequently, quick with clever remarks.
Lin Xian quietly turned her head to study Xiao Wanqing. She could see the curve of a smile on Xiao Wanqing’s lips, but her eyes held none of the warmth a smile should carry. In her gaze lingered a cool indifference and an almost imperceptible wistfulness.
Lin Xian turned back to look out the car window, her vision full of scenery rushing past, her mind full of Xiao Wanqing’s smiling words and calm face.
A thought surfaced, vague and unformed: this — beneath a calm lake surface, turbulent waves surge3 — was that what Xiao Wanqing was like?
Lin Xian didn’t quite understand. But she very much wanted to be the one who could glimpse the hidden currents.
That night, past midnight, Xiao Wanqing got up for a drink of water. As she passed Lin Xian’s room, she paused instinctively — and was disappointed to hear the clatter of keyboard keys once again reaching her ears.
Xiao Wanqing’s expression was placid. She raised the glass, held tight in her hand, took a quiet sip, and slipped back to her bedroom without a sound.
The next morning at six-thirty, before Xiao Wanqing could even take off her apron to go wake Lin Xian, Lin Xian had already gotten up on her own. She washed up, tied her hair into a ponytail, put on her military training uniform, grabbed her training cap, and came to the dining table.
Xiao Wanqing had already set breakfast on the table and was facing away, hanging up her apron, about to go wake Lin Xian.
At the sight of Xiao Wanqing, Lin Xian couldn’t help but smile, her eyes crinkling, and called out brightly, “Good morning, Auntie Xiao.”
Xiao Wanqing turned at the sound, and Lin Xian’s dashing figure came into view. Her gaze swept over Lin Xian, a flash of admiration in her eyes. “Good morning.” She tilted her head slightly. “Very handsome and energetic.”
Lin Xian beamed, delighted, and spun a circle in front of Xiao Wanqing. “I think so too! I checked myself in the mirror several times and almost couldn’t tear myself away.”
The corner of Xiao Wanqing’s mouth lifted. She walked to the table, picked up Lin Xian’s chopsticks, and handed them to Lin Xian as she sat down across from her. Ignoring her vanity, she changed the subject with concern. “Did you put on sunscreen?”
Lin Xian took the chopsticks and shook her head. “I didn’t. I’m not in the habit — too much trouble. It’s fine, I got through military training before just the same.”
Xiao Wanqing frowned with mild worry and sighed in resignation. “You little lazy bug.”
Lin Xian took a sip of congee, eyes curving, looking the picture of a spoiled child wheedling for favor.
During breakfast, Lin Xian noticed that Xiao Wanqing didn’t seem to be in good spirits — she yawned several times in succession. Lin Xian set down her chopsticks, her eyes dimming, and asked guiltily, “Auntie Xiao, you don’t seem to have much energy. Did I drag you out of bed too early?”
Xiao Wanqing shook her head gently. “Not at all. I usually wake around this time anyway.” She paused, then frowned slightly as she explained, “I just haven’t been sleeping well these past two nights. In the early hours, I keep hearing the sound of keyboard typing and furniture moving from next door — I’m not sure if it’s the little boy in the apartment across the way making too much noise playing games at night.”
Hearing this, Lin Xian’s expression stiffened almost imperceptibly. A hint of awkwardness crept in, and for some inexplicable reason, a pang of guilt: could what Xiao Wanqing was hearing actually be coming from her?
Xiao Wanqing had been quietly observing Lin Xian’s expression while she spoke. Seeing Lin Xian’s discomfort, Xiao Wanqing knew she had more or less gotten the message. So she continued casually, “It’s all right. Maybe tonight I won’t hear those strange sounds, and I’ll get a good night’s sleep.”
Lin Xian nodded guiltily without saying a word. She was thinking: It’s been two days. This problem of not being used to the bed should be getting better by now, right? No — tonight, even if she couldn’t sleep, she would lie in bed quietly.
Xiao Wanqing sighed inwardly. She looked fondly at Lin Xian’s guilty, bowed head and let out a quiet breath of relief. A good drum doesn’t need heavy beating4 — she believed Lin Xian wouldn’t let her down.
After breakfast, Lin Xian gathered her bowl and chopsticks into the sink and was about to turn on the tap to wash them when Xiao Wanqing stopped her. “We agreed — kitchen work is my job, remember? It’s not that early anymore. Better early than late — clean up and head to school.”
Lin Xian had no choice but to set down the bowl and chopsticks, wash her hands, and turn to leave. As she turned, she found Xiao Wanqing standing right in front of her, naturally reaching out to deftly flip her collar straight.
She heard Xiao Wanqing’s warm voice near her ear: “Always check that your clothes are properly in order before you head out. It would be embarrassing if someone noticed after you’ve already left.”
Lin Xian felt her ears suddenly grow warm.
Xiao Wanqing lowered her head, carefully adjusting Lin Xian’s belt, smoothing the hem of her uniform.
Lin Xian’s gaze drifted downward with her movements, and she saw Xiao Wanqing’s long, dense lashes fluttering, her eyes full of concentration, the fragrance of her hair lingering at Lin Xian’s nose. Inexplicably, Lin Xian’s heart skipped a beat. She felt she could almost hear the loud thumping of her own heartbeat.
Finally, this gentle torment ended. Xiao Wanqing stepped back, looked Lin Xian over approvingly, and said with satisfaction, “There. Our beautiful, dashing, heroic Xianxian is ready to go out and captivate thousands of boys and girls.”
Lin Xian looked at Xiao Wanqing with amusement and couldn’t resist teasing, “Did it captivate you?”
Xiao Wanqing gave a soft chuckle, noncommittal. Suddenly, as if remembering something, she called out to her, “Wait a moment.” She walked back to the dining table, picked up her phone, stepped back a little, aimed the camera at Lin Xian, and said, “Xianxian, smile.”
Lin Xian gazed at Xiao Wanqing’s earnest, gentle expression from across the way and couldn’t help but smile, her eyes sparkling bright.
She thought from the bottom of her heart: Xiao Wanqing, you are the one who can captivate thousands of boys and girls.
The author has something to say:
Including me.
A sweet reader told me she actually called Auntie Xiao’s number yesterday, and she figures she probably isn’t the only one who did…
So I’m asking for her — hahaha, are there really more adorable little sweethearts out there?
Footnotes
- A student who commutes to campus daily rather than living in a university dormitory. In China, where most undergraduates reside on campus, day students are relatively uncommon.
- Compulsory military training that all Chinese university students must undergo, typically lasting several weeks at the start of freshman year. It includes drills, physical exercise, and discipline instruction.
- A Chinese metaphor for hidden turmoil or unrest beneath a calm, composed exterior.
- A Chinese saying meaning that a sensible person understands a hint without heavy-handed correction — a good drum produces sound from a light tap.
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