We quickly got to know each other, chatting about everything under the sun as we unpacked our beds. We talked about our hometowns, our expectations for university life, and the clubs we wanted to join. The dorm was filled with laughter—a stark contrast to the awkward and pity-filled atmosphere of my previous, brief university experience.

In the evening, the last roommate arrived—a girl from Xinjiang who was gifted in singing and dancing. The four of us went to the cafeteria for our first university dinner together. The variety of food was vast and affordable. As we ate, we excitedly discussed the freshman orientation ceremony for the next day.

After dinner, I went for a walk alone on the beautiful campus. The late summer evening breeze carried a hint of coolness, which felt very comfortable against my skin. The campus was brightly lit; everywhere I looked, I saw freshmen full of anticipation for the future, just like me, and seniors hurrying by with books in their arms.

I walked to the famous man-made lake at the center of the campus. Willows were planted along the banks, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze. The lake reflected the starlight from the sky and the lights from the shore, sparkling and breathtakingly beautiful.

I found a bench, sat down, took out my phone, and made a video call to Mom and Dad.

"Mom, Dad, I’ve arrived at school, and the dorm is settled. My roommates are all great, and the school is very beautiful, so don't worry about me."

On the other end of the video, Mom and Dad looked at the beautiful night view of the campus behind me, their faces showing relief and smiles. "That’s good, that’s good. Nina, take care of yourself out there. If you don't have enough money, just tell us; don't wrong yourself."

"I will," I promised with a smile.

We chatted for a long time, only hanging up when my phone was about to die.

After hanging up, I looked quietly at the lake water before me, my mind flooded with thoughts.

On this day a year ago, I was at the welcome gala of another university, waiting in joy for a so-called "surprise." Today, a year later, I am sitting here, in an institution of my dreams, possessing a brand new life, new friends, and a future full of infinite possibilities.

I once thought that humiliation would be the nightmare of my life. But looking back now, it was merely a stumbling block on my journey. It hurt when I fell, but it also allowed me to see the ugliness of human nature and taught me to be decisive and brave. It was that injury that forced me to shatter the cowardly self of the past and reshape a stronger, more independent soul.

From this perspective, I should even "thank" it.

The evening breeze brushed against my cheeks, blowing the short hair by my ears. I took a deep breath; the air tasted of fresh grass and lake water.

I stood up and stretched, feeling full of strength.

The past has been turned over. My new life has just begun.

Just as I was about to turn back to the dorm, my phone vibrated—a WeChat message.

It was from Luke. "Arrived?"

Brief and concise—it was his usual style.

I smiled and replied with two words: "Arrived."

He quickly replied, "The night view at Tsinghua is not bad either. You can come over and see it sometime when you’re free."

I replied: "Sure, the view at Normal University isn't bad either."

I put my phone away and walked back to the dorm with a happy heart.

Beijing is huge, but we are close.

It’s wonderful.

21

University life was even more magnificent and fulfilling than I had imagined.

Like a parched sponge, I greedily absorbed the nourishment of knowledge. I immersed myself in the vast ocean of literary classics, engaging in soul-to-soul dialogues with poets and writers of the past and present. I joined the school's literature club, where I wrote poetry, edited magazines, and discussed the latest literary trends with like-minded friends. My talent and effort quickly made me a standout in my major, earning me the recognition and respect of both teachers and students.

My life was no longer just about studying. I joined the university’s volunteer association, spending my weekends tutoring children at orphanages and keeping company with the elderly at nursing homes. In the process of helping others, I felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction and happiness. My world became even broader because of the kindness I put forth.

Luke and I also maintained a close, yet comfortable, connection. Sometimes we would meet at a bookstore between our two universities to read for an afternoon, then eat dinner together; other times, we would go to the National Library, or visit the Forbidden City and the Great Wall, soaking in the historical heritage of this city. We didn't talk much, but there was always a tacit understanding that others couldn't comprehend. He was a special and important existence for me in this strange city.

Time flew. In the blink of an eye, the freshman year was coming to an end.

Because of my outstanding academic performance, I received a national scholarship and, as a representative of excellent students, gave a speech at the college's year-end summary meeting.

That day, wearing a respectable white dress, I stood on the podium, facing hundreds of teachers and students, sharing my study insights and outlook on the future with composure. My voice was clear and firm, and my eyes shone with the light of confidence. Sunlight streamed through the auditorium windows, coating me in a layer of warm gold.

At that moment, I felt like a true light source.

When the speech ended, thunderous applause broke out in the hall.

In the evening, I called home and shared this good news with Mom and Dad. They couldn't stop smiling on the other end, praising me constantly for being "promising."

As we chatted, Mom suddenly seemed to remember something and said in a very flat, conversational tone: "Oh, Nina, let me tell you something. A few days ago, I heard from Aunt Zhang that the Miller family can't hold on in the countryside anymore. Word is that Seth, I don't know what kind of debt he owed outside, was chased to their home by debt collectors, causing a huge scene. His father, who had the cerebral hemorrhage, was so angered by this that... he passed away."

My heart gave a faint tremor, but quickly returned to calm.

"And then?" I asked flatly.

"Then," Mom’s tone lacked any schadenfreude, only a touch of sentimental sighing for the shifting of times, "after his father’s funeral, Wang Xiucin couldn't take the blow; her mental state also became a bit off, and she was taken away by her maternal family. As for Seth, no one knows. Some say he followed the debt collectors away, others say he ran off to another city himself; either way, he’s neither seen nor heard from—completely vanished. Their old house in the countryside has also been abandoned."

A person who once occupied eighteen years of my life, a "sensible and reliable" child in the eyes of my parents, had vanished from the sea of people in the most slovenly and unbearable way.

His ending was the result of his own choices, step by step. From the moment he picked up those scissors, he had personally cut off all his own paths and future.

"It’s all in the past," I said softly to Mom, and also to myself.

"Yes, it’s all in the past," Mom sighed on the other end. "Let's not talk about such unlucky things anymore. My daughter is so outstanding now; the future will only get better and better!"

After hanging up, I stood on the dorm balcony, watching the thousands of lights in the distance.

The world is huge. Countless stories happen every day, and countless people meet and part. Seth’s story had truly ended. But my story had only just turned to its most magnificent chapter.

A few days later, I received an unexpected invitation. An article I wrote on modern poetry criticism was spotted by a core national literary journal, inviting me to participate in a young authors' seminar held in a beautiful southern city next month.

Holding that gold-stamped invitation, my heart was thrilled. I knew this was the best affirmation of my hard work over the past year and the first step toward a broader literary palace.

I told Luke the good news.

After listening, he was silent on the other end for a few seconds before saying: "Congratulations. That city is beautiful; I happen to want to go see it too."

I asked with a smile: "Do you want to see the scenery, or do you want to see me?"

On the other end of the phone came his low, clear chuckle.

"Both." The sunlight was just right, and the breeze was gentle.

I leaned against the railing of the balcony, watching the young figures coming and going on campus, listening to the guitar strumming from afar, and couldn't help but lift the corners of my mouth.

My future was clear, bright, and full of infinite, wonderful possibilities.

As for the past, let it drift away with the wind.

The End