Later, Jiang Cheng invited Wang Hai and Ru Yuan to a small eatery. In the peak heat of early summer, they had hotpot. Jiang Cheng, beaming with excitement, sweated profusely while swishing lamb, fatty beef, tofu, lettuce, vermicelli, shrimp, meatballs, and spinach in the bright red broth. Suddenly, Wang Hai let out a soft chuckle. Ru Yuan gently asked in her sweet voice, “Wang Hai, what are you laughing at?”
Wang Hai smiled and said, “Every time I eat with Jiang Cheng, I feel an exceptional appetite. If she can’t find a job after graduation, she should consider becoming a professional eating companion.”
Jiang Cheng immediately retorted, “Pfft! Xu Wang Hai, how dare you curse me like that? If I can’t find a job, I’ll cling to Ru Yuan. If you’re supporting her, you’ll have to support me too.” Ru Yuan chuckled softly, holding hands with Wang Hai as they watched Jiang Cheng eat like a storm sweeping away everything in its path. Outside the small restaurant, the sunlight was clear and bright. The leaves of the camphor trees shimmered with a reddish hue and rustled in the breeze—oddly, these trees shed their leaves after spring. Ru Yuan suddenly said softly, “We should stay like this forever.” Jiang Cheng ate something too spicy, choking until her eyes nearly teared up.
After the meal, Wang Hai and Ru Yuan went to the study room, while Jiang Cheng grabbed her rented copy of A Step into the Past and headed to the first-floor lecture hall to read. She idly stared out the window at the cherry blossom trees that had long passed their blooming season. Someone greeted her, “Hi, are you Gu Jiang Cheng?”
Later, Jiang Cheng often asked Ming Yuan how he had recognized her. Ming Yuan replied leisurely, “I asked Xu Wang Hai about you. He just said, ‘Don’t let her writing deceive you.’” In fact, Wang Hai had revealed more than that. He told Ming Yuan that Jiang Cheng’s favorite spot was the first floor of the second teaching building. He also mentioned that Jiang Cheng wasn’t at all like what people imagined. Her articles in the school publication had caught some attention, making people envision a girl with flowing long hair and fluttering skirts, like a heroine from a romance novel. But Ming Yuan had said, “I saw a girl by the window on the first floor who seemed the least like a romantic heroine. That had to be you.” That day, Jiang Cheng wore a discounted white turtleneck T-shirt from Jeanswest, her short hair and frail figure resembling a skinny little boy from behind.
In her senior year, Jiang Cheng finally made up her mind and signed a job offer. Wang Hai went to Beijing, Ru Yuan stayed in Chongqing, but Jiang Cheng chose a small town. Wang Hai was surprised: “Jiang Cheng, are you out of your mind?” Jiang Cheng was resolute, though Wang Hai understood the reason and sighed lightly, saying, “Silly girl.”
It was all just to be a little closer to Ming Yuan. Yet, out of pride, she refused to get too close. The geographical distance stubbornly became a vast separation. One hundred and forty-three kilometers—if she wanted, it would only take two hours. Three months after graduation, Wang Hai called her and said just one sentence: “Jiang Cheng, you silly girl.” Tears streamed down Jiang Cheng’s face. She already knew she could never truly get close to Ming Yuan, not even at 143 kilometers. Meanwhile, Wang Hai was 2,000 kilometers away.
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