Back in high school.

Ling Ling wasn’t yet as gentle and warm as she’d become later. Put nicely, she was outgoing, cheerful, and full of youthful energy. Put less nicely, the girl was a bit wild.

She was a textbook music student. Her grades in the regular academic subjects were average, but her musical ability was top-tier among high schoolers. Add in her striking looks, and she was something of a campus celebrity.

The award ceremonies for midterms and finals had never had anything to do with her.

But she was part of almost every cultural or recreational event. Whether it was a singing or dancing competition at school or somewhere else, as long as Ling Ling was willing to enter, she was sure to come home victorious.

Whenever Ling Ling walked along the school paths, she drew a whole crowd of bashful boys’ eyes.

Confessions of love seemed to be an everyday thing. Ling Ling herself had no interest in dating, mainly because her parents had her later in life and treated her like their precious treasure. They kept a very close watch on her.

Ling Ling went to Y City No. 10 High School, the best high school in the city—just a tiny bit behind one of the city’s high schools affiliated with a national 985 university.

At the end of every semester, No. 10 High School held an awards ceremony for the top ten students in the science and humanities tracks on their final exams. That was much like most high schools in China. The one difference was that the school wanted music students to take part too, and had the student with the best music grades go onstage.

What for?

To hand the certificates and scholarships to the top ten students in the science and humanities tracks.

A little background: No. 10 High School didn’t give awards to music or art students. Around ten years ago, Hong Kong and Taiwan were doing all right, but mainland China really didn’t place much importance on arts education.

At the end-of-semester ceremony in the second half of Ling Ling’s first year of high school.

Ling Ling vaguely remembered that it was sometime in early July, around nine in the morning. It was very hot, but the sun wasn’t shining brightly, and the heat wasn’t blazing. The sky was mostly cloudy, and the air felt stuffy, putting everyone on edge.

The ceremony was held in the central plaza in front of No. 10 High School’s administration building.

As for the scene—it was a standard gathering at a Chinese primary or secondary school: students carried their own chairs out of the classrooms and sat in rows.

Nearly two thousand students gathered there.

At that moment, Ling Ling was there as a representative of the music students. Instead of sitting with everyone else, she stood beneath a lychee tree beside the makeshift stage, waiting for the awards ceremony to begin.

Her classmate and best friend was also a music student representative. Her name was Zhang Yuming, and she was every bit as pretty and talented as Ling Ling. She was even more outgoing, and could be a bit of a chatterbox.

Zhang Yuming was wearing the full summer school uniform. Sitting under the lychee tree with absolutely no regard for appearances, she kept tugging open her collar to let the breeze in while grumbling, “Seriously, I’m dying of heat here. Why are they taking so long… Can’t they just get started already? If I weren’t trying to get close to my dream guy, I’d never have agreed to be a music student representative. I feel like a hotel emcee.”

Ling Ling laughed at her, then asked, a little puzzled, “What dream guy? Didn’t you used to hate those science and humanities-track bookworms? What’s got you so excited all of a sudden?”

“Ling Ling, listen! I finally met him the other day—my destined one!”

Ling Ling had heard that line from her best friend so often she was sick of it. Every few days, Zhang Yuming seemed to meet one or two more so-called destined ones.

As far as Ling Ling was concerned, Zhang Yuming was hopelessly in love. She’d dated several boys and spent every day reading romantic youth novels and Japanese shoujo manga. There was something a little off about her.

Seeing Ling Ling’s scornful expression, Zhang Yuming bristled. She affectionately linked arms with her and rocked back and forth, pleading, “Sister Ling Ling, this time it’s for real!”

Ling Ling and Zhang Yuming were both first-year students in the music class. They had similar personalities, though Zhang Yuming seemed even more childish and was always calling herself Ling Ling’s little sister.

Feeling playful, Ling Ling teased her. “All right, all right, I believe you. This time it’s for real… Let me guess who it is… Qin Lang from Class One, first year, science track?”

“Nope. Qin Lang was already the fifth destined one…”

“Hmm… Guo Wentao from Class Seven, first year, humanities track?”

“Not him either… Guo Wentao was the last destined one… This time, he’s really the one. It’s different from all the previous times. He’s in Class Three, second year…”

Before Zhang Yuming could finish,

the second-year grade director suddenly began reading out the names of the top ten students in the second-year science track’s final exams. The first name called was—Cao Zijin, Class Three, second year.

In that instant,

a rare cool breeze for midsummer swept in from one side. As it drifted gently by, the clouds began to part, and the blazing sun broke free of its cloudy prison, shining down across the campus.

Beneath the lychee tree, the dappled shadows grew sharper.

The next moment, Zhang Yuming suddenly called out toward the distance, “Ling Ling, look! That’s my destined one, Cao Zijin!” Ling Ling turned her face almost without thinking and glanced up by chance.

She saw a refined, handsome boy with a clean-cut look slowly walk up onto the stage.

Cao Zijin wasn’t particularly tall, but he wasn’t short either. He stood at 178 centimeters, with a well-proportioned build and short, tousled hair that had never been dyed or permed. His features were regular, and his face was so clean and fair it hardly seemed like a boy’s—smooth, pale, and without a single blemish. With his gold-rimmed glasses, he looked like the male lead of a Japanese shoujo manga.

Just as Ling Ling’s attention wandered, the second-year grade director called out again, “Next, please welcome Ling Ling, the first-year music student representative, to present the certificates and scholarships.”

At those words,

Zhang Yuming immediately deflated and stamped her foot. “Aw, why couldn’t I be the one presenting the awards to the second-years?”

Ling Ling came back to herself. She bit her lip lightly and didn’t dwell on it. Then she walked to the stage and handed out the awards to the students in order, from tenth place to first.

The last person was Cao Zijin, who had placed first in the science track.

When Ling Ling stood in front of Cao Zijin, she was a little surprised. Even from this close, the boy’s clean face was still flawless. Even his uniform was spotless, and carried a faint scent of sunflowers.

Then,

that same mischievous cool breeze drifted over from the other side, gently stirring the boy’s shirt hem.

Green is your collar; longing for you fills my heart.

In a daze, ripples spread across the lake of the girl’s heart.

…

In one corner of No. 10 High School’s campus stood a basketball court that had all but fallen into disuse.

Beside the court was a little chapel. Calling it a chapel wasn’t quite right, though—it was actually a music room reserved for the music classes, with a piano inside.

Incidentally,

the little chapel had been donated by a music graduate who had already made a name for themself.

Ling Ling never cared much about her academic grades, but she had a different kind of passion for music.

Evening study at No. 10 High School ended at 9:15 p.m. Afterward, she’d always hurry to the little chapel to practice, often playing until after ten.

The communal showers in the school dorms stopped providing hot water at 10:30 p.m.

So Ling Ling often lost track of time and occasionally missed the hot water in the communal showers. When that happened, she had no choice but to carry a bucket to the canteen entrance and fill it with hot drinking water.

In her second year of high school,

late autumn arrived, and this year’s first cold snap seemed to have come early. It was only mid-November, yet the temperature had already dropped below 15°C. For Y City, a big southern city where it never snowed, that was already very cold.

Ling Ling hated autumn and winter for one simple reason: the weather was cold, her fingers stiffened, and playing an instrument became difficult.

It was a cold night.

Ling Ling had once again stayed past the opening hours of the girls’ dorm’s communal showers. She had no choice but to carry a bucket to the canteen entrance to fill it with water. On the way back, she hurried because she was afraid she wouldn’t make curfew. The bucket was too heavy, and hot water splashed out and scalded her hand.

The water was over eighty degrees, and Ling Ling’s hand had swollen and turned red.

She stood beside a lamppost along the school path, head hanging dejectedly as she kept blowing on her right hand to ease the burning pain.

Just then,

a figure—not particularly broad—fell over her. Ling Ling looked up and froze. She hadn’t expected it to be Cao Zijin. He asked with concern, “Are you okay?”

His voice was warm, his tone gentle.

A gentleman without equal.

For some reason, Ling Ling’s heart was beating fast, and her cheeks felt a little hot. She waved her hand. “I’m fine…”

As Ling Ling waved, Cao Zijin noticed the redness and swelling on her hand. He glanced down at the bucket, then smiled gently. “I’ll carry it to the girls’ dorm for you… I stay in the classroom to read after evening study too, and I often lose track of time and miss the dorm showers’ hot water.”

As he spoke,

Cao Zijin had already picked up the bucket.

Ling Ling parted her lips, about to say something and stop him, but he was so insistent that she decided to accept his kindness.

A second later, Cao Zijin’s somewhat awkward figure made Ling Ling laugh again. She muttered, “You really are a frail bookworm…”

Cao Zijin seemed to catch the tail end of what she said. Looking a little awkward, he replied, “I didn’t realize girls needed to carry so much water to wash up…”

Ling Ling covered her mouth. “It’s because I have long hair…”

“Oh…”

About five minutes later, they reached the second-year girls’ dorm. Cao Zijin said goodbye and had just turned to leave when he seemed to remember something.

He turned back to look at Ling Ling and asked, “Have we met somewhere before?”

Ling Ling wasn’t the type to make a fuss. She smoothed her messy hair as she answered, “Mm. At the end-of-semester awards ceremony last term. I presented your award.”

“Oh…”

As the two stood outside the girls’ dorm, facing each other in silence, the 10:45 p.m. warning bell for dorm curfew rang.

Seeing that Cao Zijin had nothing more to say, Ling Ling didn’t linger. She picked up the wooden bucket and turned to head inside. She’d barely taken a few steps when she heard the boy’s warm, hurried voice calling from behind her.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

At his words, Ling Ling turned back. Her long hair swished lightly as she gave Cao Zijin a dazzling smile, like jasmine in late autumn—quietly soothing, yet deeply refreshing. “Ling Ling, second-year music class.”

Cao Zijin stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly at the long-haired girl. After a moment, he answered, a little belatedly, “I’m Cao Zijin, from the science track in Class Three, third year.”

Yeah.

Your name…

I’d committed it to memory long ago, without you ever knowing.