After National Day, the temperature in Ancheng dropped quickly. By late October, many residents had already begun layering up to keep warm. Thermal underwear was common, and sweaters were now an essential part of everyday attire. In this small city of 2010, a time when life felt simpler, many students still wore sweaters hand-knitted by family members. Jiang Luxi's white sweater, for instance, was clearly handmade.
When Cheng Xing was a child, his mother had knitted similar sweaters for him. The memory of knitting needles clinking against each other and colorful yarn balls scattered across the table was a nostalgic one. Those tools of craft had long since faded from his life, replaced by the steady march of modernity. As life improved, fewer people seemed to have time or need for handmade clothes.
Back then, Cheng Xing's mother and the neighborhood women would often sit together, chatting while their hands worked on sweaters, scarves, or other small projects. But unlike the sweaters most students wore—gifts from mothers or grandmothers—Jiang Luxi had made hers herself.
She often brought her knitting supplies with her during weekend tutoring sessions at Cheng Xing's house. After lunch or during the early mornings before the house opened, she would sit outside and knit, her movements precise and patient. Cheng Xing first noticed this habit one Sunday morning when he woke earlier than usual. From that day on, he started opening the door earlier every morning, curious to watch her work.
The past month had been fulfilling for Cheng Xing. His weekends were spent studying with Jiang Luxi; during the week, he focused on reviewing lessons in the classroom. In his free time, he indulged in writing a few pages of his novel, "Ancheng". For relaxation, he played basketball or table tennis on campus, or occasionally joined Zhou Yuan at the internet café for a few rounds of games.
It was Friday, October 22, 2010.
The sun was rising later each day, and the streets remained cloaked in mist well into the morning. When Cheng Xing left home at 5:30 a.m., the moon still hung faintly in the sky. The ground sparkled with dew and frost, and the air was sharp with the chill of deep autumn. Winter was creeping closer.
Cheng Xing jogged to school, his breath clouding in the frigid air. By the time he reached the school gates and sipped a cup of hot soy milk, he felt marginally warmer. Through the mist, he caught a glimpse of Jiang Luxi pedaling her bike into the school grounds.
Walking along the sycamore-lined avenue that led to the classrooms, Cheng Xing noticed Jiang Luxi ahead of him. The crunch of frost-covered sycamore leaves under her feet was amplified in the stillness of the early morning. He followed at a distance, listening to the rhythm of her steps.
At the classroom entrance, he switched on the dim hallway light.
"Good morning," he greeted.
Jiang Luxi gave a slight nod. "Mm."
Carrying her book, she walked a little further into the corridor and attempted to turn on the brighter lights by stepping on the switch embedded in the floor. Her efforts, however, were in vain. Normally, she might have called for help, but with Cheng Xing nearby, she seemed reluctant to do so. Jiang Luxi was naturally shy, and her reserved and stubborn demeanor often left her struggling to ask for assistance.
Unlike the bright mornings of summer, the foggy autumn sky left the hallway too dim to read without the lights. Unfortunately, the school's motion-sensor system required either a loud sound or a strong impact to activate, and Jiang Luxi's gentle steps weren't enough. Earlier, Cheng Xing had stomped hard to keep the light on as he walked.
She glanced at Cheng Xing, her dark eyes expectant yet hesitant.
This girl is so peculiar, Cheng Xing thought, amused. She clearly wanted help but wouldn't ask for it.
Without a word, he walked over and stomped hard on the switch, illuminating the hallway. "What were you going to do if I didn't help? Wait here until Zhang Huan arrived with the keys?" he teased lightly.
"If you weren't here, I could've lit it myself," Jiang Luxi replied, her voice calm but firm.
"I pay tuition like everyone else, so I have every right to stand here, don't I?" Cheng Xing joked, grinning.
Jiang Luxi didn't respond. Instead, she turned her focus back to her book, taking advantage of the light while it lasted.
Cheng Xing picked up his Chinese textbook as well. With the monthly exams looming on Monday, he wanted to ensure he maintained his edge in his strongest subject.
But the quiet didn't last. The motion-sensor light clicked off again.
Cheng Xing sighed and stomped the switch once more. This repeated several times, the light flickering on and off. In the intermittent glow, Jiang Luxi's figure alternated between clarity and shadow, her features occasionally softened by the pale light.
Watching her, Cheng Xing was reminded of dreams he used to have in another lifetime. A girl appeared in those dreams—sometimes familiar, sometimes a stranger, always just out of reach. He couldn't remember her face clearly, but he knew it wasn't Chen Qing.
"Why are you staring at me?" Jiang Luxi's voice cut through his thoughts. She frowned slightly, her tone both curious and defensive.
"Nothing," Cheng Xing replied, shaking his head. "Just lost in thought."
Unable to focus on his studies, he leaned against the railing, gazing out at the slowly awakening campus. The crisp morning air carried faint voices as students began leaving the dormitories, their chatter mingling with the crunch of frost underfoot.
By now, the hallway was filling with life. The cold prompted complaints and laughter among the arriving students. Cheng Xing no longer needed to keep stomping on the switch; the motion and noise of the crowd ensured the lights stayed on.
Through it all, Jiang Luxi remained seated, quietly absorbed in her reading, her composure undisturbed by the growing chaos around her.
Zhang Huan finally arrived with the classroom keys, laughing with a group of friends. Among them were Chen Qing, Wang Yan, and Li Dan.
Chen Qing's gaze flicked briefly to Cheng Xing, then to Jiang Luxi, who was still reading. Without a word, she turned and entered the classroom.
Wang Yan and Li Dan exchanged glances, their expressions thoughtful. Initially, they had assumed Cheng Xing was avoiding Chen Qing out of spite. But after weeks of watching him keep his distance, it was clear this wasn't a mere act of rebellion.
Even Wang Yan and Li Dan felt the absence of Cheng Xing's once-vibrant presence. They could only imagine how much harder it was for Chen Qing, who rarely revealed her true feelings.
At last, Zhang Huan reached the hallway. Cheng Xing glanced at Jiang Luxi, still immersed in her book, and said casually, "Zhang Huan's here."
She looked up briefly, then returned to her reading, her serene demeanor unbroken.
"Oh, okay," Jiang Luxi said softly as she closed her book.
Zhang Huan approached the classroom door and began unlocking it. Li Dan, her arms crossed, spoke in a cold, cutting tone. "What time do you think it is? The bell is about to ring, and you're only just getting here? You think it's fine for us to freeze out here in the hallway on such a cold day?"
Zhang Huan ignored her barbed remark, his gaze shifting toward Cheng Xing and Jiang Luxi, who were standing nearby.
"Brother Cheng, sorry for being late today," Zhang Huan said apologetically. "I caught a cold yesterday, took some medicine, and ended up oversleeping. I hope I didn't mess up your study time with the class monitor."
As the student responsible for the classroom keys, Zhang Huan was typically punctual. However, ever since realizing that Cheng Xing and Jiang Luxi arrived earlier than he did each morning, he had become the third person to show up. Initially, he assumed Cheng Xing's early starts were an attempt to impress Jiang Luxi after his rejection by Chen Qing—or perhaps just a way to chat with her. But after over a month of observing them, Zhang Huan came to a different conclusion: Cheng Xing was genuinely dedicated to studying.
Most mornings, the two stood far apart, often at opposite ends of the hallway or stairwell. Even when they shared the same space, like on mornings when the sun rose too late for good lighting, they rarely exchanged more than a few words. Whether Cheng Xing harbored feelings for their class monitor or not remained unclear, but one thing was certain: Cheng Xing was taking his academics seriously.
"It's fine. If you're late, there's probably a good reason. Go on in," Cheng Xing replied, smiling lightly.
Zhang Huan wasn't the type to slack off, nor was he habitually late, which was why the teacher had entrusted him with the classroom key in the first place. Recently, his efforts to arrive earlier showed that he took this responsibility seriously.
As Zhang Huan unlocked the door and everyone began to file inside, Li Dan's expression darkened, her irritation plain to see.
After settling at her desk, Chen Qing noticed Li Dan's stormy demeanor. Frowning, she said, "You used to act all high and mighty because Cheng Xing liked you. People didn't dare mess with you back then. What, you still think everyone's going to bow to you now? You're not a teacher, and it's not even class time. Even if it were, being late is the teacher's business to handle, not yours. Why are you butting in?"
Li Dan, already upset, felt her grievances bubble over. Her eyes reddened as she snapped back, "It's all because of you rejecting Cheng Xing! If you hadn't, would any of this be happening?"
Her outburst caught everyone's attention, and silence rippled across the room. In her emotional state, Li Dan had said something she shouldn't have—at least, not in front of the entire class. Her words hung in the air, exposing the underlying tension surrounding Cheng Xing and Chen Qing.
Sixteen or seventeen-year-olds are especially sensitive to embarrassment, and Chen Qing was no exception. Her pride stung, she shot back without thinking, "Cheng Xing is just a delinquent who doesn't study. Why would I like him? Not everyone is like you, attracted to troublemakers."
Though her voice was quiet, the classroom was still settling down, and most of her classmates heard her clearly. Heads turned toward Cheng Xing, curious to see his reaction.
But Cheng Xing didn't seem fazed. He simply flipped open his Chinese textbook and began reading as though nothing had happened.
Chen Qing froze, her mind catching up to her words. That dismissive line had slipped out so naturally—it was what she used to say to brush off Cheng Xing's feelings. Yet saying it now left an unexpected bitterness in her chest.
Suddenly self-conscious, she added in a louder, slightly softer tone, "But people can change. Just because someone's a troublemaker now doesn't mean they'll always be. If he works hard and gets into a good university, people might come to admire him."
Her cheeks flushed as soon as the words left her mouth.
The shift in her tone and meaning stunned the class. Was Chen Qing implying that Cheng Xing still had a chance if he improved?
Several classmates exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of surprise and amusement.
"Brother Cheng, looks like the tide's turning for you!" Zhou Yuan whispered, barely containing his excitement.
If Cheng Xing and Chen Qing ended up together, Zhou Yuan was convinced their future success would somehow benefit him as well.
"Honestly," a classmate murmured, "I thought Cheng Xing was done for after that public rejection. But after hearing what Chen Qing just said, it looks like he's got some real motivation now. There's still time before the college entrance exams, right?"
"Cheng Xing's really smart, especially in Chinese," another chimed in. "If he actually puts his mind to it, he could catch up quickly. Remember the school bulletin board contest? Our class used to rank at the bottom, but Cheng Xing's autumn begonia leaf design and his essay won us first place. Even the principal praised us during the assembly!"
"Yeah, I remember that," Zhao Xiaoyu added, laughing. "Our teacher's face lit up like a Christmas tree. I've never seen him so happy—it was almost scary!"
Amid the chatter, Sun Ying, seated near the window, turned to her deskmate and asked with genuine curiosity, "don't you think if Cheng Xing and Chen Qing got married, their kids would be super cute?"
Sun Ying had recently become obsessed with her newborn nephew and often pondered genetics. Given how good-looking both Cheng Xing and Chen Qing were, she couldn't help but wonder about their hypothetical children.
"Sun Ying, what nonsense are you talking about?" Chen Qing exclaimed, her face turning scarlet.
Already flustered from her earlier slip of the tongue, Chen Qing felt like she had handed Cheng Xing an open invitation in front of the entire class.
Meanwhile, Jiang Luxi sat quietly, flipping through her textbook. She tried to focus on the words in front of her, but her thoughts were in disarray. No matter how hard she tried, the letters swam before her eyes.