“Did you guys see? That girl’s eyelashes were so long,” Chang Huan said, wiping her face with a towel. “I’ve never seen anyone with eyelashes that long and curled!”
“I saw, I saw!” Liu Yujin chimed in. “But I also saw the hair on the back of her hands. It was so obvious.”
“Foreigners have very heavy body hair,” Wang Chen said with an air of authority. “The hair on their arms... it must be...” She measured with her fingers. “At least this long! As long as one of my fingers!”
“Listen to you. It’s the middle of winter; you’re acting like you saw it with your own eyes.”
“I really did! When I went to the restroom, I saw a foreigner with her sleeves rolled up, washing her hands... that layer of hair was like she was wearing a sweater... and it seemed to be golden!”
“Oh my god...” the other two cried out in amazement. “Body hair... how can it be golden? Foreigners... they’re so different from us!”
“I think it’s a little scary...” Liu Yujin shrunk her neck. “I could never have a foreigner for a husband in the future...”
“Haha,” Chang Huan burst out laughing. “Aren't you full of yourself? Who said anyone was going to find you a foreign boyfriend?”
“I was just speaking from the heart.”
“By the way, where’s Xiao Yun? Where did she go?” Wang Chen scanned the dormitory.
“Eh, where is Xiao Yun?” Liu Yujin also craned her neck. “She came back with us, didn’t she?”
“Maybe she went to the restroom.” Chang Huan continued wiping her face.
***
Qiu Yun felt a sense of agitation.
On the way back, while her three roommates were chatting excitedly ahead of her, she had deliberately lagged half a step behind. Upon reaching the dormitory entrance, she made a turn and tossed out a quick excuse: “I’m going to the restroom.”
She didn't actually need to go.
The bottled Coke in her bag felt like a grenade that could explode at any moment; she had to deal with it.
Was she annoyed? Yes. Why did Liang He suddenly give her a bottle of Coke in the dead of winter? If she brought this one bottle back to the dorm, it wouldn't be enough to share among the four of them. If she said she bought it herself, no one would believe her; if she said Liang He gave it to her, it felt... off, as if she would be ridiculed. Qiu Yun didn't want anyone to know about this, not even Wang Chen, who was her closest confidante. So, what was she to do?
Throw it away? That didn't seem right.
Drink it? That didn't seem right either.
What exactly was the problem?
Qiu Yun stared at the bottle of Coke for a long time before realizing that she was actually—reluctant.
Yes, she was reluctant to drink it and then casually toss the bottle into a trash can, and she was reluctant to share the memory of this event with anyone else.
Though the glass bottle in her hand was ice-cold, Qiu Yun felt as if she were holding a hot potato.
A ridiculous thought suddenly popped into her head. She couldn't help but mock her own childishness, yet at the same time, she actually went through with it.
Cradling the bottle, she walked to the West Teaching Building.
In front of the West Teaching Building stood a very, very tall cedar tree. Whenever new students asked where the building was, people would invariably point to the highest tip of the tree piercing the sky: “See that tallest tree? The West Teaching Building is right under it.” Thirty years later, even though the surrounding buildings would change from two-story sloped roofs to modern academic blocks, this tree would still stand here, its crown always poking an inch or two higher than the structures around it.
Qiu Yun tilted her head back, catching a blurry glimpse of the shadowy tree tip in the dark night. Her neck began to ache from looking up so long, so she looked down, found a branch, and dug a hole. Wrapping the Coke bottle in a red cloth bag from her backpack, she buried it beneath the tree.
She didn't know what had come over her. She thought that in thirty years, most of the campus buildings would have changed, but the West Teaching Building and this cedar tree would still be here. If she ever returned to her own time and came back to this campus, perhaps she could dig up this thirty-year-old Coke from this very spot.
Burying the Coke felt like settling a heavy matter on her mind. Feeling much lighter, she brushed off her hands, stood up, and headed back to the dormitory.
***
In the blink of an eye, it was the end of the semester.
Needless to say, everyone in the dorm put their best foot forward for their major-specific courses; Chang Huan even pulled an all-nighter in the studio once. Qiu Yun remembered a quote she’d heard somewhere: “It is not just determination that influences a person, but their environment.” She felt this was the perfect description of her current situation. Even if she still had thoughts of just coasting through her days, it was impossible to show any lack of spirit. Whether in the dorm or the classroom, whether at the Academy of Fine Arts or the neighboring B University, everyone was acting as if they’d been injected with adrenaline. They thirsted for knowledge like cracked earth longing for sweet rain. That passion was like the song *A Fire in Winter* playing in every street and alley—no, not just a fire, but a newly discovered oil field; the flames simply could not be extinguished. Even for courses like Ideological and Political Theory, she actually listened seriously for the whole semester, filled a thick notebook with notes, and never skipped a single class. No one dared to skip, and no one wanted to—there were so many auditors from outside that the classrooms often couldn't hold everyone, forcing the teachers to take roll and politely ask the members of the public to leave.
Sometimes Qiu Yun couldn't help but wonder if the heavens were playing a joke on her. Knowing she hadn't made the most of her first university experience, perhaps she was being given a second chance to truly experience college life.
To be honest, Qiu Yun truly felt that university life was wonderful.
The friendship between classmates was generous, and everyone brimmed with the aura of youth. Without mobile phones, there were no "phubbers"—no one sat up at night holding a phone that emitted a ghostly glow, and no group of people sat at a dinner table staring at their respective screens in silence. Without computers, there were no aching backs or stiff necks. Instead, everyone would call out to each other to go line up at the library, check out new arrivals at the Xinhua Bookstore, or play badminton and basketball. Qiu Yun was even dragged along to attend lectures at the neighboring B University. Everyone was sincere and genuine. Since most families had multiple siblings, there was almost none of the spoiled arrogance typical of only children; the four girls in Qiu Yun’s dorm were like real sisters.
Of course, there would also be people shyly hiding in the shadows below the dorms to play the guitar, or someone practicing the violin at a corner of the lake as if no one else existed. The girls' dorm would gossip about who was the most handsome, and the boys' dorm would play cards all night. It was like the university youth of every era, yet it felt different from any other.
In reality, Sima Qiu Yun had been eighteen when she entered the A City Academy of Fine Arts in 2012. Although she had entered with the highest score in her major, a series of events prior to her enrollment—being harassed by thugs, a death occurring, police evidence gathering, hiring lawyers, her father’s sentencing, a failed appeal, and her father’s imprisonment—had turned her university years into a blurry silhouette at sunset. Not only was it unclear, but its very existence was so faint it was suspect. It was as if, the moment she entered school, she had bundled everything up and stuffed it into the deepest recesses of her heart. Then, those filthy, sordid, negative things slowly seeped into the soil of her soul over those four years. Even the new leaves that grew in those new years became withered and yellow.
Lazy, passive, just getting by, mediocre, and occasionally a bit withdrawn—this was the primary manifestation of Qiu Yun’s university life from 2012 to 2016. Her university counselor had once doubted her record of entering with the top score. Yet, looking at her work, one could see a profound foundation of artistic skill. After several talks yielded no obvious results, the teacher simply assumed she was a student who relied on talent and was too lazy to strive. Moreover, Qiu Yun was beautiful, with an impeccable figure and face; the boys chasing her never stopped from freshman to senior year. Thus, the teacher could only sigh, saying that a young girl should put more heart into her craft. Little did they know that after her father, Sima Feng, went to prison, Qiu Yun had developed a sense of revulsion toward men. Books said it was a mild psychological disorder, and Chen Liping had even taken her to see a doctor.
Qiu Yun had always been clear-headed. She had said Liang He "looked like a fool but was bright inside," but in truth, she was the one like that. She understood the fickleness of human nature and the shifting of the stars perfectly well; she simply allowed herself to be immersed in numbness, sleeping while awake, unwilling to open her eyes.
She suddenly remembered a time during her sophomore year when Liang He was critiquing a painting in class. It just so happened that her theme was related to sleep. Liang He looked at it for a long time before speaking. She had forgotten exactly what he said, but she remembered one sentence: *No one can wake a person who is pretending to be asleep.*
At the time, she had taken it as a common remark, but now that it suddenly surfaced, it felt rather thought-provoking. Qiu Yun tried hard to recall Liang He’s expression that day, searching for any clues. But after a long time, it was in vain.
She thought that the Liang He she had met thirty years in the future was a man who had experienced "thirty years of fame like dust, and eight thousand miles of clouds and moon." His life experiences determined his depth and vision, making him different from the Liang He she saw now. But on second thought, they were the same: they were the same person, with the same body and face, the same brain and heart. They were the same to the bone. If the Liang He thirty years later was a mellow, aged wine, then the Liang He she saw now was a piece of uncut jade from the deep mountains.
But the journey from uncut jade to aged wine required not just time, but also hardship, setbacks, and pain.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 西教 | West Teaching Building | A specific campus building. |
| 杉树 | Cedar | Specifically likely a Metasequoia or similar tall conifer common on Chinese campuses. |
| 《冬天里的一把火》 | A Fire in Winter | A very famous 1980s pop song by Fei Xiang. |
| 司马峰 | Sima Feng | Qiu Yun's father. |
| 陈丽萍 | Chen Liping | Qiu Yun's mother. |
| 三十功名尘与土、八千里路云和月 | Thirty years of fame like dust, eight thousand miles of clouds and moon | A famous line from the poem "Man Jiang Hong" by Yue Fei, signifying a life of struggle and achievement. |
| 璞玉 | Uncut jade | A metaphor for someone with great potential but lacking refinement/experience. |
