At nine in the morning, in Liang He’s office, Qiu Yun finally saw the painting he had been inadvertently hiding and she had repeatedly missed: *Tears of the Buddha*.
The hazy silhouette in the frame, that single tear suspended but not yet fallen, and that gaze full of unspoken words—wasn't that her?
It was the night she had been consumed by thoughts of her father; the night in Datong, Shanxi, that Liang He had mentioned before.
So, this prestigious, international gold-medal-winning masterpiece depicted the scene from that night—the Qiu Yun of that night.
Qiu Yun stared at the painting for a long time, forgetting to speak.
She began to hesitate.
Two little voices were fighting in her head.
Voice A said: *Liang He painted you in secret! How wonderful! This painting is so meaningful; how could you bear to sell it?*
Voice B snapped back: *Even if it isn't sold, it will be displayed in the school’s exhibition hall. It won’t belong to you privately anyway. Besides, with such a golden opportunity before you, can you really afford to pass it up? That’s Donghu Liyuan!*
Voice A jumped up and slapped Voice B: *Is money all you see? Feelings cannot be measured with money!*
Voice B was stunned for a moment, then kicked Voice A back: *Only by selling this painting can you prove that feelings aren't measured by money, that they have nothing to do with it! Think about it—how long can Sima Qiu Yun stay here? Can you guarantee she won’t go back? If she leaves, what will be left for Liang He? This painting, or a piece of real estate that will be priceless in the future? Wake up! He can always paint another picture, but if you miss this house, it’s gone!*
The two little voices devolved into a brawl.
After a long struggle, she heard her own voice ask, "Do you think this painting... can buy a villa at Donghu Liyuan?"
Liang He was surprised by her resolve. He had thought that once Qiu Yun saw the painting, she would drop the idea of buying the house. He hadn't expected her to remain so persistent.
He felt a slight pang of bitterness, but he still answered, "Yes."
"Then sell it!" Qiu Yun looked up, her gaze firm. "I am the person in the painting. I should have the right to decide."
Liang He frowned. "Do you really want to buy a house, or are you just short on money? Is there something you’re not telling me? Is that house really that important?"
"Yes," Qiu Yun softened her tone, but her heart remained resolute. "Liang He, I know this painting is deeply significant. But even if it’s sold, it still exists. Selling it doesn't change the meaning of its existence. It’s already famous; it’s already won an award. In a way, it no longer belongs just to the two of us. Trading it for a house... that house would belong entirely to us." Qiu Yun took his hand. "And with your hands, you can paint many more pictures like this. Trust me, the beauty of the future will exceed your imagination."
Liang He stared intently at Qiu Yun. After a long silence, he yielded, sighing helplessly. "You always seem to have the ability to see the future. I can't entirely agree with your logic, but I want to ask you: do you truly, sincerely want that house?"
"Yes." Sensing his wavering, Qiu Yun looked him straight in the eye.
"If you're worried about... I mean, the Academy will provide us with welfare housing later." Liang He stopped hesitating and used the word "us."
"It’s not the same." Qiu Yun shook her head.
The two remained in a silent stalemate for a long while.
"...Fine," Liang He said, though his next words only made Qiu Yun half-happy. "I'll think about it."
It was then that Qiu Yun realized the thirty-year generational gap had finally created a rift. She understood Liang He’s feelings perfectly. In this era, who would think of "buying" a house as an investment? If Liang He had agreed immediately, she would have been the one looking at him in terror. Moreover, she was asking him to sell his breakout masterpiece.
However, what she hadn't explained to him was that in his career, there would be wave after wave of peaks, eventually burying this painting among his many other brilliant works. At the very least, during her four years at the Art Academy in the future, she had never seen this painting featured. It was merely mentioned in passing in Liang He’s faculty biography as "the first person to win the XX Gold Award." There was no mention of which collector had bought it or where it had gone.
Furthermore, she thought, she was right here by his side. If he wanted to paint her again, wouldn't it be the easiest thing in the world?
At that time, she didn't know what the future held. If she had known, she wouldn't have made that decision.
***
For the next two days, Qiu Yun didn't go to see Liang He, and Liang He didn't come to find her, seemingly busy with a project for Chen Jingtao.
The two fell into a silent cold war.
Seeing Qiu Yun quietly cleaning the house for two days straight, Da Chen asked why she wasn't going to the school and if she had quarreled with Teacher Liang.
Qiu Yun looked up, staring blankly at Da Chen, and asked listlessly, "Da Chen, do you have any money?"
"...?" Wang Chen froze. "How much do you need?"
"Fifty thousand."
"How much?!" Wang Chen’s voice spiked.
"If that's too much, forty thousand will do."
Wang Chen reached out to feel Qiu Yun’s forehead. "How much? I haven't seen that much money in my entire life! Are you stupid or crazy? What do you need it for?"
"Oh," Qiu Yun lowered her head. If even Wang Chen thought she was crazy, she probably was. "Never mind. I was just trying to scare you."
***
Toward evening, Liang He appeared.
Qiu Yun followed him out gloomily, not saying a word.
As they reached the mouth of the alley, the sound of a bicycle bell approached. Liang He pulled Qiu Yun to the side of the road. It was Sima Feng coming out of Wang Chen’s house. He greeted them warmly, "Heading out, are you?" His gaze shifted from Qiu Yun to Liang He, and he gave Liang He a knowing wink—a "I get it, keep it up" expression—before disappearing around the corner.
Liang He watched him go. A vibrant streak of sunset glowed on the horizon. He thought that perhaps this was a good omen.
"Um," he cleared his throat and began, "Professor Chen has been discussing a research topic with me these past few days, so I've been a bit busy."
"Oh," Qiu Yun responded dryly.
"A few professors from other universities came to the department for an exchange..."
"Oh." Another short, clipped response.
"How have you... been these past few days?"
"Fine."
"Any... discomfort?"
"No."
"The weather has been hot lately... have you been eating watermelon...?"
"Do you have anything else to say?" Qiu Yun asked impatiently. She thought to herself, *You're the real "melon"—a total blockhead.* "If not, go back to your work."
"No, no, no," Liang He said quickly, grabbing her hand. "Um... isn't tomorrow the day the sales open?"
Qiu Yun finally turned around, eyeing him. She said flatly, "Yes."
"...Come with me." Liang He pulled her along.
Qiu Yun looked around. It was after dinner, and the alley was filling with aunts and grandmothers coming out to enjoy the cool air and gossip. The moment Liang He grabbed her hand, they had successfully drawn the curious gazes of the "melon-eating" crowd. She didn't resist and followed Liang He toward the river.
In 1988, this small river running through the city was still about three meters wide. The willow trees along the banks were lush, their thousands of branches swaying.
They stopped under the shade of a tree. Liang He got straight to the point. "Let's go together tomorrow."
"Where?"
"To buy the house." He said it as casually as if he were buying groceries.
"You... you sold it?" It was Qiu Yun’s turn to be shocked.
"Yes."
Qiu Yun felt a strange emptiness in her heart, but it was quickly filled with the joy of victory. "For how much?"
Liang He handed her a piece of paper. It was a check.
Buying a house like buying a cabbage—he was a true "overbearing CEO" in the making.
Thirty years later, countless women would rack their brains and exhaust every effort just to get their names added to a man’s property deed. Yet thirty years ago, Liang He had promised Qiu Yun a sky-high priced villa with such simple words.
It was so simple it was almost blunt.
"Wow..." She took a deep breath and grabbed Liang He’s face, planting a kiss on his cheek.
"Are you sure about this?" she couldn't help but ask. His straightforwardness actually made her hesitate.
"Are you sure about this?" Liang He countered with the same question.
"What?"
"You know," Liang He said, unable to suppress a smile seeing her so happy. "You know..." he continued slowly.
"Know what?"
"Do you know what this means...?" He was teasing her now.
"What does it mean...?" Qiu Yun knew exactly what it meant. It meant that in thirty years, Liang He would be worth tens of millions without doing a single thing.
"Tell me..." Liang He prompted leadingly. "What is a house usually for...?"
"Eh?"
"Hmm?"
"...Huh?"
"Marriage."
...???
"So, now..." Liang He continued at his leisure, his voice laced with a smile, "it’s too late to change your mind. I've spent a fortune to buy this house for you... you can't run away now."
Liang He wrapped his arms around her, as if truly afraid she might bolt.
!!!
Qiu Yun’s brain short-circuited.
If... she wasn't misinterpreting this... was he... proposing to her?
The "consideration" he mentioned was about *this*?
She was thinking about an investment for him; he was thinking about giving her a home!
It was too sudden... Qiu Yun’s emotions surged violently, her mind a chaotic mess. Her first reaction was actually to say:
"But I'm only nineteen this year... I haven't reached the legal marriage age yet..."
Liang He burst out laughing, affectionately pinching her nose. "I didn't say right now. I can wait—wait until you graduate from university. By then, the house should be ready for move-in, right?"
Qiu Yun nodded dumbly. "The news said it’s a near-complete sale; they’ll hand over the keys at the end of November."
"See," Liang He seemed delighted. "The house is in more of a hurry than the people. But I'm not in a hurry. As long as you don't run away, I won't be in a hurry for the rest of my life."
Hearing this, Qiu Yun’s tears began to fall, hot and heavy.
"Why are you crying?" Liang He wiped them away carefully.
But Qiu Yun felt an overwhelming ache; the tears wouldn't stop.
"Did I scare you...?" Liang He panicked, asking tentatively.
Qiu Yun shook her head like a rattle.
She hugged Liang He tightly, as if afraid *he* would run away, nodding vigorously against his chest.
Why was this man so annoying? Always talking about "later," talking about "a lifetime." Why couldn't they just live in the "now"?
Why couldn't he just not think about the future?
Didn't he know that every time he mentioned the "future," it made her feel both hopeful and anxious, happy and miserable? This roller-coaster of emotions was nothing short of torture.
But... as soon as he said "future," Qiu Yun couldn't help but follow his lead and fantasize. As she imagined it, brilliant flowers bloomed on the dry riverbed of her world, and a vibrant oasis grew in the barren desert. He made her feel, suddenly, that everything had meaning.
At this moment, Qiu Yun’s heart wavered completely.
She didn't want to go back.
She wanted to stay here.
She would find Qiu Zhenghong and talk to him. Since he could travel between the present and the future, there had to be a way to stay in the past.
Only...
Qiu Yun’s tears overflowed again. She was going to fail the Sima Feng of the 21st century.
*Dad, your daughter is unfilial. I can't go back to take care of you. I'm too selfish, but if you knew how happy I am here, you would surely support my decision, wouldn't you?*
Qiu Yun’s tears soaked Liang He’s shirt. He lifted her face, seeing her red eyes and nose, his heart aching with tenderness. He asked her softly what was wrong.
"I'm just... moved." Qiu Yun wiped her tears.
She suddenly remembered something and, like a magic trick, pulled an object from her pocket.
"For you." She opened her palm, a smile finally blooming on her face.
Liang He breathed a sigh of relief and took it. "You finished carving it?"
It was a seal made of Qingtian stone—the promise between Liang He and Qiu Yun. After returning to the school, Liang He had carefully transcribed the first chapter of the *Diamond Sutra* and given it to Qiu Yun. Qiu Yun had been working on it slowly in her spare time and had finally finished carving the seal over the last few days.
Liang He turned it over in his hands. The stone was fine and smooth. A smile curved his lips.
"What did you carve?"
"See for yourself."
"There’s no ink on it... it’s not easy to read." He knit his brows slightly, tilting the stone to catch the light, slowly deciphering the characters. "The Knife and Wood Seal."
Just as the words left his lips, a drop of fresh blood fell from Liang He’s nose, landing right on the translucent, clear seal.
It looked just like freshly applied red ink.
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
---|---|---
佛的眼泪 | Tears of the Buddha | The title of Liang He's award-winning painting.
福利分房 | Welfare housing allocation | A system in socialist China where employers provided housing to staff.
准现房 | Near-complete housing | Real estate that is almost finished and ready for occupancy.
青田石 | Qingtian stone | A type of stone from Qingtian County, highly prized for seal carving.
刀与木印 | The Knife and Wood Seal | The text Qiu Yun carved onto the seal; likely a reference to their shared art/history.
