A strange chill hung in Xiangcao City’s sky as November drew near.

Since it was nearly dinnertime, the small park beneath the inpatient building of the Sixth People’s Hospital bustled with patients out for a stroll.

Like my family, many had brought meals and settled at pavilions or round benches, sharing warm, joyful dinners together.

“Excuse me, could you help us take a photo?”

“Just tap here on the phone.”

“Come on, Xiao Xue! Over here, sweetie—stand right by Mom…”

“One, two, three… say ‘eggplant’!”

With help from nearby families, we snapped several group photos: by the fountain, in the little grove, inside the pavilion.

Mom wore her simple work uniform; Dad, a plain shirt; Grandma, the new outfit I’d bought her; Grandpa, his hospital gown.

“Let Grandpa hold Xiao Xue for one.”

“And one with Dad too.”

“My lovely girl looks so pretty today—is that your high school uniform?”

“It’s the school uniform.”

“No wonder! Haha, uniforms sure have gotten flashier.”

Grandpa’s mood was bright, his energy surprisingly strong—nothing like a terminally ill patient.

Dad had dark circles from sleepless nights, yet his smile still felt warm and gentle.

For a heartbeat, it felt like we were back in that little mud hut from my childhood.

Blue sky. White clouds. Green fields.

“Xiao Xue, you study computer science—help send these photos to your dad.”

“WeChat? Bluetooth? Wait… what’s Bluetooth again?”

“WeChat it is—I know how to use it… Oh! So you send it like this?”

“Got it! Haha, your major’s so practical.”

“Alright, let’s eat. Xiao Xue has class soon. College kids need their own space—we shouldn’t hover.”

I hadn’t realized Mom, Dad, and Grandma hadn’t eaten. Mom hurried out and returned with takeout boxes and a roast duck.

“Heard this duck’s Xiangcao City’s specialty—over 40 yuan each!”

“I’ll skip the duck. Let me taste my granddaughter’s cooking… Oh my! So fragrant!”

Inside the pavilion, Grandpa laughed heartily. “Xiao Xue, met any nice boys in college? Bring one home if he’s serious. You’re in university now—it’s fine to date, right?”

“Grandpa!” I shot him a slight glare while arranging my meal. “I’m not even eighteen yet!”

“Oh? Born in 2012… it’s 2030 now. Huh, you’re right!” He nudged Dad. “Look what you did—she’s in college but still underage.”

“How’s that my fault? Uncle Zhao insisted starting school early was best. She skipped kindergarten—how else would she keep up?”

“Don’t blame Uncle Zhao. That man never finished school. Pulls carts for drinking money, then brags when drunk.”

Mom and Grandma just smiled, quietly eating as Dad and Grandpa bantered.

“Shuangyue, be honest—if ZhiZhe hadn’t enrolled her early, she’d be an adult now!”

“Dad, that’s not how math works,” Mom sighed. “Even without skipping ahead, she’d still be seventeen. At most, she’d be in senior year.”

“Exactly,” Grandma added. “If she were in high school now, she might not even visit—workload’s too heavy.”

“Right… my bad.” Grandpa turned away with an awkward cough. “But still—you can date in college! Computer science guys? Super hot field. Those boys are all high-potential once they graduate.”

*Computer science guys? High-potential?*

I pictured my Software Engineering Class 2 boys: goofing off daily, equally childish.

Fewer than ten percent genuinely cared about coding. The rest? When asked why they chose the major:

“My family’d buy me a computer!”

Our Data Structures professor—a philosopher-looking guy—once said: in ten years of teaching, out of thirty students per class, three still working in software after five years was “excellent.”

CS feels “prestigious,” yet the job market’s weird. Graduates from Project 211/985 universities often land solid salaries after grinding a few years—so IT’s seen as high-paying. But most vocational and second-tier colleges also offer CS degrees… and their grads struggle to be taken seriously.

Result? IT students either master their craft and thrive… or coast through school (some can’t even code Snake), get rejected everywhere, switch careers, and sink low.

“Boyfriends and all that…” I murmured, lowering my head under their eager gazes. “I… haven’t really decided yet.”

I’d thought about it. Bi Xinxue’s love life was blank. Boys in middle school only liked my looks. Once they learned “Xiao Xue didn’t know QQ,” “she’s withdrawn,” “rural background, kinda unsophisticated,” their interest faded fast.

Still, as a girl, Bi Xinxue hoped for a real romance someday.

As for me—I had zero dating experience last life (plenty of “doormat” experience though). Now female… maybe hormones, maybe having this body and memories erased the mystery. Honestly, no girl around matches my looks or figure—but imagining dating boys, marrying, having kids? My past-life male memories stir just a tiny unease.

So I’m in “leave romance to fate” mode.

Better to study hard, train daily, earn money. With health, knowledge, and financial freedom, I’ll have confidence in any relationship—right?

“Stop pressuring Xiao Xue! She’s young—no rush,” Grandma said firmly, seeing my fluster. “Eat first. She has class. Let her go after dinner—don’t delay her.”

I almost said college rarely has evening classes… but Grandma’s worried eyes made me swallow the words.

“Mm…”

…

Thirty minutes later, backpack slung over my shoulder, I stepped out of the inpatient building at my family’s insistence.

At the hospital gate, Mom pressed two hundred-yuan bills into my hand. “Your grandma’s right. When free, socialize, make friends.”

“Mom, I really don’t need—”

“Go.” She gently nudged me forward. “Be safe.”

“Mom…” I glanced at my family standing neatly together, heart swelling. “Then… Xiao Xue heads back to school.”

“Go on. Your dad and I’ve got this.”

[*Once I earn well, I’ll repay Mom properly for everything.*]

Walking into the subway station, I vowed silently: Study hard. Grow stronger. After graduation, bring Mom home—no more hard labor for her or Grandma.

“Hi, I’ll reach Haifeng Road in Nan Nagi District in ~20 minutes. Meeting in front of Minzu Cinema?”

Seated on the train, I messaged Lu Yun—QQ nickname “Puppy.”

“Yes, already here.”

Puppy replied instantly: “Got tickets for *Your Name*.”

“Anime, right? I’ve heard of it.” I sent a “fierce.jpg” meme. “What’re you wearing today, boss? Any standout features?”

“This is me.”

He sent a selfie: sky-blue chibi Luo Tianyi T-shirt, blue shorts, matching sneakers. Handsome face, messy hair, clear skin. Looked young—almost high school age.

“Cute, like your QQ name and avatar.” I checked his profile on Flower Cat. “Boss, really 178 cm?”

“Measured a year ago. Hope I haven’t shrunk.”

“Also—just call me Lu Yun. No ‘boss.’”

I fired back “Can other cats do this?.jpg”: “Boss Lu Yun.”

“…”

He sent a Shiba Inu meme: “What do you gain from bullying me?.jpg”

“Kidding! I’ll find you when I arrive.”

I snapped a quick selfie and sent it.

“See you in twenty!”