Chapter 56 - A Morning of Fleeting Dreams
When Liang He finally drifted back to consciousness, the world outside the window was already bathed in the brilliant clarity of a new day. The torrential rains had ceased, leaving behind a sky that remained slightly overcast, though this did not deter the birds from chirping vibrantly upon the branches. He felt significantly better; the oppressive heat of the fever had broken, leaving only a lingering soreness in his neck and shoulders—a natural aftereffect that he knew would dissipate within a day or two. As he shifted his weight to rise, he suddenly froze.
*Where are my clothes?*
Peering beneath the quilt, he discovered his torso was bare. The short-sleeved shirt he had worn yesterday had vanished. He blinked, his mind a fog as he tried to reconstruct the events of the previous night, but the memories were fragmented and elusive. His gaze drifted toward the bedside, where he found a white short-sleeved shirt—the very one he had arrived in—neatly folded and dry. Looking further, he saw a figure curled up, head tilted, fast asleep in an Eight Immortals chair.
Qiu Yun was bathed in the morning light, yet the brightness seemed not to disturb her slumber. A jacket had been draped haphazardly over her, one corner of the hem nearly brushing the floor. Her lips were slightly parted, revealing the faint, pearly glimmer of her teeth. She looked so peaceful, so utterly beautiful in the stillness of the room.
Liang He watched her for a long time in silence before carefully, quietly dressing himself. He stepped off the bed and approached her, looking down at her sleeping face. He reached out, his fingertips hovering barely a centimeter from her cheek, trembling with an impulse he couldn't quite name. Ultimately, he pulled back and gently adjusted the jacket to cover her more securely. Sensing the movement, Qiu Yun shifted her position, and the garment slid right back down.
"Xiao Yun? Xiao Yun?" Liang He whispered tentatively. "Go sleep in the bed."
Qiu Yun merely licked her lips, remaining deep in her reverie.
Liang He stared at her mouth, which held the delicate, peach-blossom hue unique to a young woman in the early morning. A sudden, bold resolve took hold of him. He leaned down and gathered her into his arms, lifting her in a horizontal carry. In the few short steps it took to reach the bed, his heart hammered against his ribs like a tribal drum. He didn't even dare to look down at her, silently questioning his own integrity. *Am I a gentleman?* he wondered. *Of course. I only want her to sleep comfortably. I’m not trying to take advantage of her.*
***
Qiu Yun was immersed in a sweet, vivid dream. She dreamed that dawn had broken and her grandfather, Qiu Zhenghong, had returned. But he wasn't alone; behind him stood the faces she knew so well—Sima Feng and Chen Liping. Overwhelmed with shock, she rushed toward them. Before she could speak, her grandfather smiled.
"Look who I’ve brought back for you."
"This..." Qiu Yun’s mouth hung open. "Dad, Mom... you’re here?"
Sima Feng and Chen Liping only looked at her and smiled warmly.
"It’s all settled now," Qiu Zhenghong said. "You don’t have to go back. I’ve brought everyone you care about here to you."
"But..." Qiu Yun hesitated. Hadn't Chen Liping abandoned her and Sima Feng to start a new life with another man?
"I have erased those unpleasant memories from their minds," her grandfather continued, as if reading her thoughts. "Do not dwell on the past. Isn't it wonderful for the family to be together now?"
Qiu Yun could hardly believe it. "I really don't have to travel back?"
"No," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. "Now you can stay here in 1988 and be with the one you love."
Caught off guard, Qiu Yun lowered her head in a flush of maidenly shyness. "The one... I love?"
"Haha!" Qiu Zhenghong let out a booming laugh, his appearance shifting eerily from a young man to a bearded elder in his eighties. "Everyone knows you love Liang He. And I have more good news: you no longer have to worry about the instability of your presence here. You won't be pulled back to 2019."
"Why?" she asked, bewildered.
"Because in 2019, the well is being destroyed for urban redevelopment. It is nearly dry. The channel for space-time travel is about to close forever."
As he spoke, a cacophony erupted. Out of nowhere, massive excavators appeared, their giant steel claws swinging through the air, tearing and gouging at the earth with a thunderous roar. In the distance, the rhythmic "thump-thump-thump" of war drums joined the din, growing louder and more insistent until the vibration made Qiu Yun’s ears ache.
She snapped awake.
There were no excavators, no demolition crews. There was only Liang He’s face, barely ten centimeters above her own, looking down at her. Their eyes met, and in each other's pupils, they saw a mirrored reflection of utter confusion.
It was only then that Qiu Yun realized Liang He was holding her in a princess carry. The "war drums" hadn't been drums at all—it was the frantic thudding of Liang He’s heart.
"Uh..." Panicked, Liang He’s grip faltered, and Qiu Yun tumbled unceremoniously onto the bed.
"Ouch!"
"I... are you alright?" Liang He stepped forward, desperate to undo the clumsy moment.
Qiu Yun waved him off, signaling that the bed was soft and she wasn't hurt.
Liang He began to explain in a frantic rush. "I saw you sleeping in the chair... it looked so uncomfortable. I tried to wake you, but you didn't stir. I just wanted you to be able to sleep properly in the bed—"
"Oh," Qiu Yun interrupted him with a short, soft acknowledgment.
Liang He felt an inexplicable sense of guilt. He reviewed his reasoning—his intentions were pure—but would she be angry? He watched her expression closely, prepared for her to scold or even hit him. Instead, Qiu Yun simply pulled the quilt up to cover half her face, leaving only her bright, sparkling eyes visible.
He stood there, unsure of what to do next.
Suddenly, she pulled the quilt down slightly. "Thank you."
"...Huh?" The response caught him off guard. She wasn't angry?
Having said her piece, Qiu Yun pulled the blanket back up. Though it was broad daylight, Liang He felt as though he saw stars dancing in her eyes—stars that were laughing. The weight on his chest lifted instantly, even if he still felt hopelessly tongue-tied.
"I want to rest for a bit," she said.
"Right. I’ll head out then," Liang He replied immediately. "Sleep. I’ll call you at noon."
He retreated and gently pulled the door shut. The moment the latch clicked, Qiu Yun threw the quilt off with a burst of energy. Between the memory of waking up in his arms and the lingering traces of her dream, sleep was the last thing on her mind. She flailed her arms and legs on the bed in a silent fit of excitement, biting her lip to keep from screaming with joy. She wanted to sing—to belt out "Today is a Good Day" or "I Love You, China"—but she settled for staring at the overcast sky through the window, thinking: *What a truly wonderful day.*
***
By noon, the two of them had taken the bus back to the Academy. Upon arriving, they moved with a silent, mutual understanding, entering the campus one after the other to avoid drawing attention.
The moment Qiu Yun stepped into her dormitory, Wang Chen practically leaped from her bed. "Xiao Yun! You’re back! Is everything okay at home?"
"It’s fine, it’s fine," Qiu Yun said, taking Wang Chen’s hand. "My place is okay; it didn't flood. The bus lines were just down, so I had to stay the night."
"That’s a relief." Wang Chen patted her hand and pulled her down to sit on the edge of the bed. "After you left yesterday afternoon, the storm got so bad. The instructors came by to do a head count and forbade us from leaving the school. I heard a child drowned under the bridge over on Longqi Road."
"That’s horrible," Qiu Yun gasped. "The typhoon really caught everyone off guard. The water in the alley by my house was up to my knees. By the way," she looked around, "where are Chang Huan and Liu Yumian?"
"The teaching buildings flooded, so they went over to help sweep out the water," Wang Chen explained.
"And why aren't you there?" Qiu Yun teased. "Slacking off?"
"Hardly." Wang Chen winced, clutching her stomach. "My period started. I don't know why, but it’s been incredibly painful since yesterday, and the flow is heavy. I had them ask for leave on my behalf."
"I see." Qiu Yun reached out to gently rub Wang Chen’s back. "I’ll go fill a hot water bottle for you. I also brought some brown sugar from home; I’ll make you some hot brown sugar water."
"Thank you, Xiao Yun," Wang Chen said gratefully. "You’re so caring. Whoever ends up marrying you will have... what’s that phrase you use? 'Saved the galaxy in a past life.'"
Qiu Yun burst out laughing. "You’re a quick learner."
"Once I’m feeling better, I’m going to the temple to ask the Bodhisattva to clear away my recent bad luck. And while I’m at it, I’ll pray for a good marriage for you too."
"Haha, don't worry about me. What bad luck have you had lately?"
"Look at the list!" Wang Chen began counting on her fingers. "First that cold that wouldn't go away, and now this menstrual pain—I’ve never had cramps this bad before."
Qiu Yun smiled. "You’re so superstitious. You don't even need to make a special trip to a temple. We’re going to the Yungang Grottoes soon; you can pray to your heart's content there."
"The Yungang Grottoes?" Wang Chen perked up instantly. "Where is that? We’re going? Why?"
"It’s in Shanxi. It’s for our art field trip."
"How do you know that?"
Qiu Yun realized she had let it slip—Liang He had told her, but the official announcement hadn't been made yet. "Oh, I just overheard someone mentioning it. I’ll go get that hot water bottle for you now!"
***
When Liang He arrived at the faculty office, Lin Zhongren looked up from his desk. "Teacher Liang, you had a call from home yesterday."
"From home?" Liang He was momentarily stunned.
"Yes, it was your mother, Teacher He," Lin Zhongren replied. "She was asking if you were in. I assumed you were in the dorms because of the storm and didn't want her to worry, so I took the liberty of telling her you were safe."
"I see."
"You should probably give her a call back."
"I will. Thank you." Liang He sat at his desk, his mind reeling.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since he had been at the courtyard house, yet it felt like a lifetime ago. That four-walled sanctuary seemed to have severed his connection to the outside world. Lu Xialan’s desperate pleas and his mother’s fury had vanished the moment he stepped through those gates. Only now, back in the reality of the Academy, did those unresolved burdens come rushing back.
The courtyard felt like a dream. And what was in that dream?
"Teacher Liang! Teacher Liang!" Teacher Li called out from the doorway. "There’s a phone call for you!"
Liang He snapped out of his daze and hurried to the phone. "Hello? Who is this?"
"It’s me."
"...Mother?"
"Your youngest uncle is already on his way back," He Chengyan said.
"...Mom..."
"Was everything alright yesterday?"
"I’m fine." Something hardened within Liang He’s heart—a knot that had been tight for years—suddenly softened like melting ice. The warmth of it nearly brought tears to his eyes.
"That’s good. You’re busy, so I’ll hang up now."
"Mom..."
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"We’re family. There’s no need for thanks."
After hanging up, Liang He’s mind remained a blank slate. The sudden reconciliation caught him off guard, leaving him unsure of how to react. He walked back to his desk in a daze. Outside, the sun had finally torn through a corner of the clouds, casting a beam of light through the window. The edges of the clouds were tinged with a magnificent, iridescent glow.
He suddenly remembered that he needed to share this news with Lu Xialan immediately. He hurried downstairs, wandering for several minutes before remembering his bicycle was at the dormitory. He ran back to the dorms, where the storm had knocked over the bicycles in the shed like a row of fallen dominoes. As he searched for his bike among the tangled metal, a voice called his name.
"Liang He."
He spun around. "Xialan?"
Lu Xialan stood before him, her clothes damp and clinging to her frame. She looked as though she had been standing there for an eternity; her face was deathly pale, and her eyes were hollow, devoid of their usual fire.
"I was just looking for you—"
"He passed away yesterday."
They spoke almost simultaneously. Liang He’s mouth remained half-open, the news of his uncle’s return frozen on his tongue.
Lu Xialan continued, a cold, hollow smile touching her lips—a smile that seemed to drain the last of her strength. Her knees buckled, and she began to collapse.
Liang He lunged forward, catching her just before she hit the ground. She was freezing and soaked to the bone. Trembling, she clung to his arms to steady herself. She tried to push him away once, then twice, but her strength failed her. Finally, she collapsed against his chest and began to sob uncontrollably.
Liang He was speechless. He knew he should offer words of comfort, but they died in his throat. What right did he have to comfort her? The man who had died was the same man responsible for his father’s death. Could he really say, "What's done is done, please accept my condolences"? Or should he try to explain, "I went home to plead for him, and my uncle was already on his way back"?
The former felt like a lie; the latter was simply too late.
Above them, curious heads began to poke out of the dormitory windows, wondering what the commotion was. But Lu Xialan showed no sign of stopping. Liang He gave her a gentle nudge. "Xialan? Xialan, please, stop crying."
She only buried her face deeper into his chest.
"You’re soaking wet," Liang He said softly. "Let me take you home."
Lu Xialan only continued to weep. Liang He was at a loss. He couldn't leave her here in the rain, crying her heart out. He thought of the young teachers' apartments near the graduate dormitories and began to lead her away.
