The health station was only two stops away, a distance they easily covered on foot. Tucked away in an alley, it wasn't a grand hospital but a cluster of three small, single-story buildings arranged in a ring, specializing in group physical examinations for schools and workplaces.
When they arrived, the station had just opened. No one was waiting at the entrance yet. A young nurse, wearing a surgical mask, was sweeping the courtyard and asked them to wait outside for a moment.
Outside the courtyard, two willow trees swayed gently in the morning breeze. Tan Junzi’s ponytail swayed along with the wind, its stray hairs tickling Chang Ying’s neck until it became unbearable. He reached out and caught her ponytail in his hand, holding it still to stop the tickling.
"See? What did I tell you? It’s the middle of the holidays; who else would get up this early for a physical?" Chang Ying’s voice drifted lazily from above her head.
Tan Junzi didn't bother arguing. She let him hold her hair while she reached into her pocket, pulled out their printed examination forms, and shoved one at him. "This one’s yours."
Ever since they stepped into the health station, something had been off with her. She was wound tight, her expression unnervingly solemn. Usually, for every three things Chang Ying said, she’d have a sharp retort for at least one; now, she was as docile as a little chick.
Amused, Chang Ying took the form and, after a moment's thought, balanced it on top of her head, blocking her vision.
"What are you doing?" Tan Junzi snapped, shaking the paper off. Chang Ying caught it, grinning. "Are you afraid of the blood draw?"
"You’re the one who’s afraid!" Her "small cannon" personality flared back to life.
Chang Ying nodded, relieved. "Right, I’m terrified. You’d better stay right next to me when they pull the needle out. If I cry, you have to give me a tissue."
Just then, a doctor emerged with a stethoscope draped around his neck. "First High School? Got your forms?"
Tan Junzi nodded. The doctor pointed toward the buildings. "Start from Room 1 and go through to Room 16. Keep your forms once you're done and remember to hand them to your homeroom teacher later."
As it turned out, Tan Junzi wasn't actually afraid of needles. Since it was summer and she was wearing short sleeves, she didn't even need to roll them up. She didn't so much as blink when the nurse produced the syringe. Chang Ying stood by her side, watching the nurse dab iodine on her slender arm. He watched as the nurse located a vein and slid the needle in. The girl’s eyelashes merely fluttered, but she didn't make a sound. Chang Ying was the one who looked away first.
After a series of tests, they finally reached a large room for the basic physical measurements. A curtain divided the room into male and female sections. They had to remove their shoes and outer layers to measure height, weight, and chest circumference. Tan Junzi was efficient; she stripped down, stepped onto the scale, and then moved to the height rod.
The doctor spoke while writing, "Tan Junzi, right? Weight: 48.2 kg. Sucking in your breath won't help; it doesn't make you lighter. Height: 168.8... Hey, don't stand on your tiptoes. Let's do that again."
A muffled chuckle drifted over from the other side of the curtain. Knowing Chang Ying had heard, Tan Junzi pursed her lips and stood flat-footed for the re-measurement.
"Height: 166.7 cm," the doctor announced.
"Doctor," Tan Junzi pleaded, "could you round up the height for me? And maybe knock the decimal off the weight?"
The female doctor’s lips twitched into a smile. "You're a funny one. Think you're at the vegetable market? Are we haggling?" Despite her words, she scribbled '167' for the height. She didn't change the weight, though. "You're light enough as it is. Girls these days are always obsessed with being thin, thin, thin. You look perfectly well-proportioned to me."
Setting her pen down, the doctor added, "Alright, lift your shirt. Let's measure your chest."
The other side of the curtain went deathly silent. Then, the male doctor’s voice rang out: "Hey, what are you dazing off for? Stick your arm out. Blood pressure."
Once Chang Ying finished his measurements, he dressed and headed outside. Tan Junzi wasn't out yet, so he leaned against the exterior wall to wait.
A boy about Chang Ying’s height approached the door with his form. He wasn't in a school uniform, so his school was a mystery. Chang Ying instinctively blocked him with an arm. "They're not done in there yet. There are girls inside."
The boy glanced at Chang Ying but said nothing. He didn't try to push past, choosing instead to wait by the door. His aura was worlds apart from Chang Ying’s.
Chang Ying was tall and lanky, currently in the middle of a growth spurt that made him look a bit unsteady. With his phoenix eyes and clear features, he carried a trace of an inscrutable smile—a carefree, slightly cynical air of a youth without worries.
The other boy was also tall and lean, but with a sturdier build and slightly darker skin. His features were sharp and angular. There was a weight to him that Chang Ying lacked; though he was only fifteen or sixteen, his eyes held a certain brooding depth.
A young nurse walked past clutching a stack of files and couldn't help but steal a few extra glances. She marveled inwardly at how impressive middle and high schoolers were these days—standing so tall at such a young age. Seeing the two boys standing together felt like a scene straight out of a Japanese manga.
A moment later, Tan Junzi emerged with her form, looking troubled. She saw Chang Ying, then noticed the other boy, lingering on him for a few extra seconds.
Because of her gaze, the boy looked back at her. Their eyes met briefly.
Chang Ying grabbed her arm, sounding a bit impatient. "Let's go."
Qin Ke watched them walk away, his gaze lingering on the girl’s bouncing ponytail before he finally entered the room.
Once they were clear of the health station, Chang Ying noticed her silence. "What took you so long in there?"
Tan Junzi kept her head down, kicking a pebble on the road.
Chang Ying rapped on her forehead as if knocking on a door. "Knock, knock. Is Tan Junzi home?"
Tan Junzi managed a small smile, but her tone remained somber. "You probably know about my family. My grandpa told me my mom died of heart disease shortly after I was born. My grandma died of it, too. It runs in the family. That’s why I’ve always been careful."
Chang Ying went quiet. "...What did the doctor say?"
Tan Junzi folded her form meticulously before stuffing it into her pocket. She waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing, really. The doctor said I have a heart murmur, but they also said it’s no big deal. I guess I’m just sensitive about it. It made me think of my mom."
Chang Ying stood in front of her. Being significantly taller, he noticed her voice sounded off, so he braced his hands on his knees and bent down to look her in the face.
He was startled by what he saw. Her eyes were actually red.
*Shit,* Chang Ying thought, panic rising in his chest. His hand hovered in the air, unsure whether to pat her head or do something else. "Didn't the doctor say it was fine? Besides, the doctor told me I had a murmur too. It’s totally normal at our age."
Tan Junzi lowered her head even further, not wanting him to see her cry. She held out a hand. "Then let me see your form."
Feeling helpless, Chang Ying pulled out his crumpled form and placed it in her hand.
Tan Junzi’s eyes were swimming with tears. Even holding the paper close, she couldn't see clearly. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and widened her eyes to search for the doctor’s small notations. Sure enough, she saw the same note in Chang Ying’s column. She began to laugh through her tears, her voice hitching. "You... have a... murmur too." She let out a loud sniffle.
Chang Ying let out a long, internal sigh of relief. He straightened up and shoved his hands back into his pockets. "Feel better now? Just don't get snot on my form, Tan Junzi."
Tan Junzi nodded. "I feel better." She didn't give the form back, though. Instead, she began reading it line by line. "Your height is 182 cm? That has to be fake."
Chang Ying adopted a deliberately provocative tone. "Well, I didn't stand on my tiptoes." He used his hand to gesture at the height difference between them, slowly uttering two words: "Shorty." His mouth was being bratty, but his heart was relieved that the moment had passed. That was the first time he had ever seen Tan Junzi truly cry.
Tan Junzi tried to kick him, but he dodged. In her momentary distraction, he snatched her form out of her pocket. Holding it high above his head, he began to read aloud with mock formality: "Tan Junzi, weight—"
As he read the weight, his eyes couldn't help but drift down to the chest measurement. He saw a number and dazed off for a split second, which was all the time Tan Junzi needed to deliver a vicious pinch to his arm and snatch the paper back. "Think you're a big man now, Chang Ying?" The pinch was hard enough to make him hiss in pain.
As she walked ahead of him, her usual demeanor restored, Chang Ying watched her bouncing ponytail. He felt a phantom itch on his neck—and a strange tug in his heart. That was the first time in over a decade he’d seen her cry. The tears had come out of nowhere, yet they felt inevitable.
Perhaps because her mother had died of heart disease, Tan Junzi had grown up without a mother figure. On top of that, Tan Zhengqi’s method of parenting was based on fear-mongering: *If you don't eat, you won't grow tall; if you don't exercise, you'll end up in the hospital; if you run off, human traffickers will snatch you...*
Consequently, Tan Junzi had been incredibly protective of her own life since she was small. During New Year’s, when people set off firecrackers, she would bundle herself up and watch from behind a window, terrified a stray spark might hit her eye. When using an escalator, she had to wait for three steps to pass before she dared to step on, fearing she’d be swallowed by the machinery. Later, Chang Ying learned the idiom *wai qiang zhong gan*—tough on the outside, hollow on the inside. He thought it described her perfectly.
At the time, Chang Ying was just a teenage boy, his heart beginning to stir with new, unfamiliar emotions. He felt a strange sensation, as if he had touched a hidden side of this girl. It turned out she wasn't fearless after all; she was afraid of death, and she could cry. This realization prickled at him, filling him with a sudden, hollow sense of melancholy and tenderness.
Beside him, Tan Junzi was completely oblivious. Her tears had vanished as quickly as they had come. With tear tracks still drying on her face and a grin on her lips, she looked slightly ridiculous.
***
"Got plans for later?" Chang Ying asked.
"Yeah, going to the flower shop to buy book covers," Tan Junzi said.
The bookstore that students from First High frequented was called the Magnolia Bookstore. It was well-stocked with supplementary materials, various stationery, magazines, and young adult fiction.
But Tan Junzi had always called it the "Mulan Book Flower Store." She’d gotten the name wrong as a child and could never correct it as she grew up. Eventually, it became a private code between them. When she said she was going to the "flower shop," Chang Ying knew she meant the Magnolia Bookstore.
The bookstore was large, spanning two floors, and packed so tightly with books and stationery that the aisles only allowed for one person at a time. However, the girls loved weaving through the stacks, picking out stationery while gossiping.
While Tan Junzi picked out book covers, Chang Ying waited by the entrance. The owner’s checkout counter was also at the front. The owner sat while Chang Ying stood, both of them watching the small hanging television. Next to the TV was an oscillating fan that whirred loudly; without reading the subtitles, it was impossible to hear what was being said.
The small TV was playing the local news.
The headline read: *Xiancheng Police Assist in Cross-Province Investigation of Women and Children Trafficking Case. Multiple Disappearances of Middle and High School Students Reported in Xiancheng.*
Xiancheng was right next to Tongcheng. Tongcheng wasn't as developed as Xiancheng, which had seen a boom in tourism, resorts, and scenic areas in recent years.
The bookstore owner, a naturally chatty man, commented to Chang Ying, "Look at that, right next door. If you ask me, this economic development isn't all good. People in Xiancheng have money, sure, but the city is crowded and messy. Every holiday, it’s crawling with outsiders."
The owner continued his lament, "Tongcheng’s public security is still better. We’ve got the moat separating us; it keeps a lot of trouble out."
Chang Ying didn't join in, merely offering a smile. His father, Chang Jianguo, traveled out of province constantly for business and met all kinds of people. His views on urban development differed from those of the average citizen. He often told Chang Ying that their little corner of Tongcheng was good for retirement, but not for ambitious young people.
Just then, Tan Junzi emerged clutching a bundle of book covers—some patterned, some transparent—along with a magazine. Chang Ying glanced at the cover. It featured a manga girl with exaggeratedly large eyes. The magazine was titled *Boys & Girls*.
Back in middle school, the girls in class loved passing these magazines around, huddling together to chatter over them. Chang Ying had always been curious about the contents. The magazine was called *Boys & Girls*, yet he’d never seen a boy actually read it.
He had once asked Tan Junzi why she liked them. She said she liked the psychological tests in the back and the free trinkets that came with them.
As the owner scanned the barcodes, Tan Junzi also caught the news report. "That’s pretty scary," she remarked casually.
Tan Junzi had been haunted by the idea of human traffickers since she was a child. Once, when they were five or six, her grandfather had taken her and Chang Ying to a temple fair, holding one of their hands in each of his. At that height, all she could see were the legs of adults. Her grandfather had looked away for a split second, and Tan Junzi, distracted by a colorful pinwheel, had her hand taken by someone else.
By the time she realized what was happening, she was confused. She asked the middle-aged woman, "Where’s my grandpa?"
The woman began leading her toward a secluded area. Realizing something was wrong, Tan Junzi dug her heels in, but the woman pulled her forcefully.
Tan Junzi looked back through the forest of legs and saw Chang Ying squatting on the ground. When the two children spotted each other, Chang Ying screamed, "Over there!" Chang Ying had been smart; he knew he couldn't find her by looking over the heads of the crowd, so he had crouched down to look for her through the gaps in the legs.
Afterward, Tan Zhengqi had given her a terrifying lecture. For a long time, he wouldn't even let her leave their apartment building. He would point at the local scrap collector and joke darkly, "See him? His sacks are full of children. If you run off, he’ll sell you."
This psychological shadow followed her until the end of elementary school. She used to press herself against the wall in fear whenever she saw the old scrap collector in their neighborhood.
That was until one day, she came home to see Tan Zhengqi engaged in a financial transaction with the man: her grandfather handed over a black plastic bag, and the old man handed him a crumpled ten-yuan bill.
After the man left, Tan Junzi’s worldview collapsed. She thought her own grandfather had entered the child-trafficking business.
From that incident, Chang Ying realized that Tan Junzi was actually quite timid and prone to taking things literally. She believed whatever her family told her. Since Tan Zhengqi was the only elder she was close to, his word was law; she never used critical thinking to wonder if he was just teasing her.
However, Chang Ying was later gratified to find that he had been placed in that same category of people she "trusted unconditionally."
***
As soon as they left the bookstore, Tan Junzi couldn't wait to flip to the last page of the magazine to do the psychological test while she walked.
Chang Ying moved to her outside, shielding her from passing bicycles and occasionally tugging her sleeve to keep her from tripping into a tree pit.
The test required adding up scores from over a dozen questions to see if you were Type A, B, C, or D.
Tan Junzi read out her scores for each question, and Chang Ying calculated the total in his head. Once she finished, he gave her the sum. She looked up the corresponding type.
"Ugh, this isn't accurate at all," Tan Junzi complained, pointing at the answer.
"What does it say?" Chang Ying asked, stifling a yawn. He’d woken up too early.
"I’m Type C: This type of person is keen on hiding their fears and sensitivity. They place great importance on family, which may stem from insecurity caused by a lack of paternal or maternal love. Deep down, this person is very insecure, yet they are also an uncompromising idealist... The type of boy they attract is the 'refined loyal dog' type, characterized by a contradictory personality and an overprotective nature."
Chang Ying: "..." He didn't understand how the topic had suddenly pivoted to the type of boys she attracted.
"Inaccurate! Totally inaccurate! When have I ever been insecure? And what on earth is a 'refined loyal dog'? I like the athletic, sunny type! Let me see... Type A attracts athletic, sunny boys. Let me do it again." She turned back to the questions.
"Wait, you can just fudge the scores?" Chang Ying was baffled. But Tan Junzi had already started deliberately choosing the low-scoring answers just to force her total into the Type A range.
***
That night, as Chang Ying lay in bed, the phrase "refined loyal dog type with a contradictory personality and an overprotective nature" unexpectedly popped into his head.
*So, I’m that type,* he thought. *Interesting.*
The psychological test seemed to be quite accurate, after all.
Then he thought about the part describing Tan Junzi: "insecurity caused by a lack of paternal or maternal love."
Tan Junzi refused to admit it, or perhaps she wasn't even aware of it. But Chang Ying felt it hit the mark.
Tan Zhengqi rarely mentioned Tan Shuixian—Tan Junzi’s mother—at home. The few details they knew were only shared after Tan Junzi had persistently questioned him as a child.
There were no memorial photos displayed in the house. Every Qingming Festival, it was said that Tan Junzi’s father, Guan Qiuyue, went to pay his respects alone. Tan Zhengqi never went, nor did he allow Tan Junzi to go. As Chang Ying grew older, he found this strange. He explained it to himself by assuming that Tan Zhengqi simply couldn't bear the pain of remembering.
Tan Junzi’s only connection to her late mother was a battered cardboard box containing her mother's belongings.
Inside was a cassette tape by the band "Wood Guitar."
A pirated copy of Sanmao’s *The Crying Camel*.
And a photo of Tan Shuixian in her teens, which had been torn down the middle. It was clearly a photo of two people, but only one half remained. No one knew who was in the other half.
Tan Junzi had made Chang Ying listen to that "Wood Guitar" tape for an entire summer. To this day, Chang Ying felt that every summer came with its own built-in background music.
He had flipped through that copy of *The Crying Camel* once. It was a poor-quality pirated edition with thin paper and countless typos.
But when he looked at it again at the end of that summer, every single typo had been crossed out and corrected in Tan Junzi’s handwriting. He wondered how many times she must have read it.
That photo was always kept under Tan Junzi’s pillow. Chang Ying had to admit that Tan Junzi looked remarkably like her mother. But the resemblance was limited to their features; their temperaments were worlds apart.
Tan Shuixian had a soft, enchanting beauty—one that carried a faint, inexplicable air of detachment.
Tan Junzi, on the other hand, possessed a spirited, heroic look that served as a perfect shield for her hidden fears and sensitivity.
The teenage boy lay with his long legs crossed, hands behind his head. In the summer night, listening to the cicadas outside, he stared at the ceiling.
*Sigh,* Chang Ying let out a long breath. *My Junzi.*
***
That same night, Tan Junzi lay in bed flipping through the *Boys & Girls* magazine she’d bought. These magazines were filled with fashion tips, romance stories, horror tales, psychological tests, and a reader mail section.
Her favorite parts were the tests and the horror stories.
The romance shorts were usually boring. she found the "love and passion" stuff a bit baffling. Sometimes she even worried that the protagonists spent so much time dating at night that they wouldn't have time to finish their homework.
Still, she usually read them from cover to cover. She’d paid for it, after all; it shouldn't go to waste.
This issue’s romance story was as dull as ever, but she forced herself to read on.
*The Year the Shichahai Didn't Freeze in Winter.* What a long title.
When she reached the part where the female lead’s mother abandoned her daughter to go abroad, Tan Junzi pulled the photo from under her pillow and looked at it. She whispered to herself, "You’ve got it better than me. At least your mom is still alive."
She didn't finish the story—something about an uncle’s reincarnation, it was all a bit of a mess. She set the magazine aside, turned off the light, and went to sleep.
***
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
一中 | First High School | Short for 第一中学 (No. 1 Middle/High School).
木兰花书店 | Magnolia Bookstore | Literally "Mulan Flower Bookstore."
《男生女生》 | Boys & Girls | A popular youth magazine in China during the late 90s and early 2000s.
斯文忠犬型 | Refined loyal dog type | A character trope (Swin Zhongquan) referring to a polite, gentle, but fiercely devoted and protective male lead.
外强中干 | Tough exterior, fragile interior | Idiom meaning strong on the outside but weak/hollow on the inside.
咸城 | Xiancheng | A neighboring city to Tongcheng.
木吉他 | Wood Guitar | Likely referring to the Taiwanese folk group "Wood Guitar" (Mu Jita).
《哭泣的骆驼》 | The Crying Camel | A famous book by the writer Sanmao.
三毛 | Sanmao | A famous Taiwanese writer known for her travelogues and stories about the Sahara.
什刹海 | Shichahai | A famous historic scenic area in Beijing.
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