Looking Back Again

Going to a strange place sounds easy enough, but when the day comes for you to leave, you feel a faint sense of loss. You start to wonder if you've forgotten to pack something in your suitcase, and that lingering feeling stays with you until the moment you depart from the city. Only then do you realize what you left behind. You can take your clothes, you can take your pets, but you can't take the familiar faces and places.

The tickets that Deer Academy booked for them were for the next day. Fifth Jie agreed so casually, as if accepting an invitation to afternoon tea, leaving Ji Ning uneasy.

Barely an hour after Ji Ning returned to the hotel room, he heard a knock at the door. When he opened it, there was no one, but a letter lay quietly on the floor, sealed with the wax stamp of Deer Academy. The recipient's name was Qin Mo, written in both Chinese and Latin, and even the postage stamps matched Ji Ning's own letter exactly. He couldn't imagine how Fifth Jie managed to arrange Qin Mo's enrollment in just one hour.

With such speed, Ji Ning even suspected Fifth Jie lived next door; perhaps as soon as Ji Ning hung up the phone, Fifth Jie sealed the letter.

"Tomorrow?" Qin Mo took her admission notice, feeling curiosity but more confusion about the future. The mischievous deer on the envelope stared at her as well.

"Yes. I know it's a bit rushed, but I..." Ji Ning paused. He thought he shouldn't mention it; after all, who would be happy to know they're carrying a ticking time bomb?

"Will you come with me to see the city?" Qin Mo didn't press for the reason Ji Ning left unsaid. She guessed the urgency was because of her, but chose to trust the young man before her. Since he hadn't told her, he must have his reasons.

"Of course." Ji Ning replied without hesitation. What better way to distract oneself than to bid farewell to one's hometown?

This was a small city—far less bustling than those crowded with skyscrapers. Its quietness was everywhere; a few fallen leaves scattered on benches under the avenue trees, and from the newly paved street, you could see lush green fields not far away.

Perhaps only a city with such a slow rhythm could nurture a beauty like Qin Mo. Walking in the sunlight, she no longer seemed as fragile as glass, as at their first meeting. Now she was more like porcelain after the rain.

"That's my school," Qin Mo suddenly stopped and pointed to the nearby high school.

"Shall we go in for a look?" Ji Ning checked the time. It was ten in the morning, school hours; perhaps Qin Mo could say goodbye to her classmates.

Qin Mo hesitated before speaking softly, "I'm not wearing my uniform, and I don't have my student ID. The guards probably won't let me in."

"Rules are meant to be broken." Ji Ning waved his hand and headed straight for the school gate. The old guard in the booth was playing the erhu; Ji Ning waited for him to finish before tapping the window. "Sir, your erhu playing is wonderful. We're alumni, just want to visit our old teachers. Do we need to register?"

The old man put on his glasses, looked at Ji Ning's smiling face, then at Qin Mo behind him. "What year did you graduate? Who was your homeroom teacher?"

Ji Ning blinked. "Three years ago." He paused, then turned to Qin Mo. "Qin Mo, what was our teacher's full name? It's right on the tip of my tongue, but I've forgotten."

"Tang Lühe, Teacher Tang." Qin Mo picked up the thread. Appearances are always deceiving; people believe God won't give both beauty and intelligence to one person, but such wishful thinking is often wrong.

"Which Teacher Tang? Let me think." The old man pulled out a phone book, put on his reading glasses, and flipped through it.

"The one who rides a yellow scooter every day, not very tall, a bit chubby, wears glasses, and—oh, his hair is sparse." Qin Mo gestured the teacher's height, gently describing the key features.

"Oh, Bald Tang! Here, just register here." The old man put down his glasses and handed them the guest log.

Ji Ning looked at the unfamiliar yet oddly familiar campus. As he walked toward the teaching block, he asked, "Which class were you in?"

Qin Mo lifted her head, a hint of mist in her eyes. "Class Six, Senior Year."

Senior Year? Ji Ning thought; every Chinese student remembers that year.

It was class time; Qin Mo and Ji Ning didn't disturb the students. They stood at the end of the corridor, listening to the voices drifting from different classrooms.

"This question's answer is B. Why? Although B is tricky to calculate, AC and D are obviously wrong, so we can quickly find the right answer. Remember, pay attention to how you approach multiple choice questions..."

"Last night while grading, I found only thirty people got this right. And those twenty-odd others, what are you thinking? Look at the countdown on the backboard..."

Mist began to cloud Qin Mo's eyes, her nose tingled. She had once sat in that classroom.

Ji Ning considered, then decided to comfort the melancholy girl. "Look on the bright side—you don't have to worry about the college entrance exam anymore, right? My own senior year, I panicked every day as the exam approached. Though I was nervous, I still skipped class and played online games, and sure enough, my results were terrible. The summer after the exam was tough, but hey, no matter how you did, now you have a university to go to."

Qin Mo answered quietly, "I ranked second in the province on the preliminary exam, competed in the International Mathematical Olympiad, and have a guaranteed admission to Tsinghua without needing to take the exam..."

The greatest joke on earth: an underachiever comforting an overachiever.

A subtle silence settled between them. Sunlight filtered through clouds, falling upon the chalk-dusted wall where someone had scrawled "I love Wang Xin." No one knew who Wang Xin was, just as no one knew which corner of the sun sent this ray of light.

Ji Ning’s speechlessness oddly improved Qin Mo’s mood. She suddenly spoke, "Tell me about Deer Academy."

"Deer Academy, you know, produces people like me. For example, everyone’s never seen Ultraman, so why hasn’t the world been destroyed by monsters? Because people like me exist..." Ji Ning rambled on, and Qin Mo listened attentively. During Ji Ning’s twenty-minute boast, Qin Mo only said one thing.

"Let’s talk as we walk."

The two young people left the school, stepping into the grand sunlight. Life is a journey from one place to another; it is long, with many things waiting in time, but no matter how crowded memories become, everyone remembers the day they first stepped away from their hometown.

"That’s how it is," Ji Ning finally concluded his monologue, adding, "Any other questions, Miss Beautiful Qin Mo?"

"Is Deer Academy far from here?" Qin Mo thought for a moment and asked the question she cared about most.

"San Portland is across the ocean," Ji Ning spread his arms wide, indicating the vast distance.

"I see." Qin Mo nodded, thinking that since it was so far, she should do what she needed to.

"Can you lend me some money?" Standing on the pedestrian bridge, Qin Mo suddenly spoke, then added, "I’ll pay you back someday."

Ji Ning waved it off, not even asking what it was for. Money, to someone with a black card like him, was just a number. "How much?"

"One million. Or a bit less, if needed." Qin Mo hadn’t expected Ji Ning to be so straightforward, hesitated, then gave the number. She was prepared for questions or refusal, but to her surprise, Ji Ning’s next words were, "Give me your bank account number."

"Aren’t you going to ask what I want the money for?" Qin Mo raised her bright eyes to Ji Ning; such boldness is always likable.

"What else could it be? I’m not Sun Wukong born from a stone; I have family too." Ji Ning ignored the nearby banks, checking his phone for the nearest supernatural branch—even if it meant walking further. There’s a simple reason: no ordinary bank supports such large cash withdrawals without an appointment.

"I don’t know if I can repay you or how long it’ll take, but I promise, I will." Qin Mo bit her lip, nervous. She thought, free things are always the most expensive. Debt has always required collateral, yet she has nothing, and he agreed so easily—is there something he wants...

Ji Ning, closing his phone and looking up, noticed the girl’s gaze had changed—shy, helpless, and with the expression of someone resigned to fate.

"It’s just money. Why so serious? Times have changed; I’m not Huang Shiren, and you’re not Xi’er. You’re beautiful, but I’m not some lecherous villain. I’m lending you money because I feel responsible." Ji Ning took two steps back, explaining as he thought, I haven’t even thought of that; you’re imagining too much.

Qin Mo’s cheeks bloomed like peach blossoms as she walked down the bridge, thinking, what responsibility do you have? Don't think I can't hear the teasing behind your words.

An hour later, Ji Ning wore sunglasses and a mask, Qin Mo likewise. These were gifts from the considerate bank staff. The only difference was Ji Ning carried a large bag.

How heavy is one million yuan in cash? Ji Ning remembered discussing this with his dormmates in high school. Now he could answer: roughly the weight of a barrel of purified water. Though it felt heavy, for some reason it didn’t seem burdensome; he even felt like carrying more.

"Will your mother really take it if you just leave it at the door? It’s cash!" Ji Ning asked uncertainly, checking the note on the bag again.

"If I transferred it, my mother would definitely call the police. Cash might work better." Qin Mo was equally hesitant, but after much thought chose cash.

"Dear Ms. Tao Jingrou, years ago you helped me, and to this day I enjoy your kindness. To express my gratitude, there are things in this bag that can improve your life—please accept them, as they are not one ten-thousandth of what you have given me. Please try to limit your weekly deposits to less than fifty thousand yuan."

Qin Mo was silent for a while, then spoke slowly, "I know my mother. She was once a pampered heiress, but now she haggles over pennies at the market, regrets throwing away clothes that can’t be worn anymore, and though she loves cake, she only ever buys one for me. I know her frugality is so she can be generous to her daughter. Like all parents, she gives the best to her child."

As Qin Mo spoke, her nose tingled, tears falling again. "I want to go back. Without me, no one will make cookies with her, no one will accompany her shopping."

Sliced birthday cake, new clothes in the mirror, bear-shaped cookies in the oven—Qin Mo knew her mother feared she would lack love growing up in a single-parent home.

Now she was leaving, and didn’t even know how to say goodbye. She thought, she should have said it sooner—before her mother could forget her: Dear Mom, you gave me a double portion of love.

"Those who love us never go far; they’re always here." Ji Ning pointed to his chest. Qin Mo couldn’t hold back, throwing herself into his arms, and Ji Ning gently patted her back.

When her sobbing stopped, Qin Mo left with her head bowed. Perhaps it was the sunset, perhaps it was the lingering fragrance at her nose—her cheeks were as red as her eyes. She remembered a question, but didn’t ask.

Not until the afternoon, as the plane’s white wings sliced through the clouds—when it was too late to turn back—did Qin Mo finally gather the courage to ask.

"Yesterday you said you lent me money because you felt responsible. What responsibility? Why are you willing to help me so much?"

Ji Ning gazed at the clouds outside the window, his thoughts drifting.

How could he know what responsibility he had? He could find a thousand grand excuses—you're just an ordinary person, I have a duty to help—but in truth, he didn’t know. He simply couldn’t forget that night when the girl asked him to take her away, those eyes in which the world had become only him.

Why? No reason.

There are too many things in this world without reason; in life, you inevitably encounter a few such moments. He couldn’t give a reason.

He thought for a moment, then answered only the last question: "Having lured someone’s daughter away, I ought to leave something behind. Though, saying it like that sounds a bit like signing a contract for selling oneself..."

Qin Mo was so angry she didn’t speak to him for the entire afternoon—though, only for one afternoon.