Harbin is a northern city with an unusually high number of churches due to historical reasons. Among them, one particularly famous one is the Saint Sophia Cathedral. Right now, Beijiao really wants to suggest that Jiang Ran visit a church sometime, sit there quietly, read a few passages from the Bible, and sincerely pray to God to install a certain organ she was missing at birth. The organ’s name is “heart,” and the corresponding noble human quality should be “conscience.”
At some point, Beijiao had already climbed down from her bed and was sitting on a chair. One hand absentmindedly scrolled through her phone, watching Jiang Ran’s recently uploaded short videos, while the other hand rested calmly on her knee, fingers rhythmically tapping.
She was engrossed in watching when Zhang Liang, holding a bucket of foot-washing water, approached from the side. “Beige, got a question for you.”
No one knew exactly when it happened, but at some point, “Beidi” had once again become “Beige.”
Everyone knew that after several months of training, Beijiao had transformed completely. Occasionally, during spare time outside of class, he went to an indoor ski resort to earn money—earning in two days what equaled the average monthly salary in a third-tier city.
But having money hadn’t made him worse. In fact, Beijiao still lived very frugally. He always ate at the school cafeteria, never participated in fancy gatherings, and wore the same few sets of clothes.
When called out just now, she merely lifted her eyelids slightly. “What is it?”
“Next Friday is the autumn sports meet, you know about the basketball game, right? We have an epic showdown against Biomedical Engineering. For the past ten years, we’ve been under their dominance, stuck as the eternal runners-up. The department teachers think it’s time for a change—”
Beijiao simply said “Oh,” as if it had nothing to do with him.
She replied listlessly, “I’m not going.”
Zhang Liang was frustrated, “It’s almost time for the end-of-term commendations and awards! If you don’t participate in group activities and show your face and make contributions to the department, how will the teachers remember you when the time comes?”
Beijiao scrolled her finger across her phone screen, opened WeChat, and as expected, it was as quiet as ever in her mind. A strange sense of pain hit her again.
Putting the phone down, she looked calm and peaceful, “Check the final grade rankings at the end of the term. As long as they aren’t blind, they’ll see me somewhere in the top three and remember me.”
Zhang Liang: “Ahhhhhh!!!”
Beijiao: “Don’t shout.”
Zhang Liang: “Song Die is in Biomedical Engineering!!!”
Beijiao: “Even if he is, it’s useless. I’m not interested in him.”
Before, she might have stood up immediately upon hearing Song Die’s name.
But now, she had finally figured it out—going after Song Die was pointless. In Jiang Ran’s eyes, both she and Song Die were like monsters; neither would get anything good.
She felt her heart die, hopelessly reaching the above conclusion.
Zhang Liang leaned on her chair: “But next Saturday is your birthday! Don’t you want to play the game on Friday, win, and then on your birthday hold the trophy symbolizing honor to celebrate your 21st birthday!”
Beijiao replied without hesitation: “No, I never celebrate—”
But halfway through her sentence, she suddenly stopped. Without warning, she turned her head, giving Zhang Liang her first direct face-to-face look since the conversation began, and asked, “How do you know my birthday?”
“Because I care about you,” Zhang Liang looked at her sincerely, “and now I really hope my love can receive a response.”
“…”
As for “love receiving a response,” this was exactly the topic Beijiao hated most right now—without exception.
So, after a brief pause of three seconds, she pursed her thin lips and coldly said to Zhang Liang, “Go away.”
Zhang Liang: “You’re being mean to me!”
Beijiao: “Keep talking, and you’ll see I can be even meaner.”
Zhang Liang went off to soak her feet with a whimper.
It was the middle of November in Guangzhou, and the autumn night breeze finally carried a slight chill.
This was the conclusion reached by the boy who should have already washed up and gone to bed but had instead wandered the hallway three times.
The dorm supervisor, an old man, appeared from the hallway corner, holding a trash bag containing some empty bottles. He had already gone downstairs but came back a few seconds later, sticking his head out to look at the boy at the end of the hallway like a ghost: “Hey! Stray dog, it’s almost lights out. Why aren’t you sleeping yet!”
Why wasn’t she sleeping?
Insomnia, of course.
Beijiao’s dorm was the last room on the hallway, next to the emergency stairs. The girl didn’t hurry, slowly sitting down on the empty staircase, letting her mind go blank for a few seconds.
Finally, she opened WeChat again. Without typing, she directly called someone.
It’s either this or that—either way, let the storm come harder.
The phone rang for a long time, so long that Beijiao thought no one would answer. Just as she was about to hang up, the call was suddenly picked up. On the other end, someone said “Ah,” with the sound of running water in the background.
So all the carefully prepared opening lines went to waste.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
…
Jiang Ran was taking a shower when Beijiao’s WeChat call came through.
With anyone else, she might have just hung up directly.
Or let it ring until the other person lost patience and hung up themselves.
But through the shower stall, hearing the WeChat call ringtone, she saw the caller’s avatar through the water droplets on the glass… she hesitated for only about three seconds before quickly rinsing off the conditioner in her hair, roughly running her hands through her hair to remove the water, and then pulling open the waterproof stall door.
She grabbed a few sheets of toilet paper to wipe her hands dry, then swiped to answer the phone. Because her face was still wet, she turned on speakerphone.
“What are you doing?”
On the other end of the phone, the boy’s voice had that unique magnetism that comes after puberty, somewhere between a man and a boy, slightly cold.
Jiang Ran could hear the stiffness in his tone—
Of course, she knew he was upset. After all, who would be happy when the person they confessed to ran away as if fleeing the planet, disappearing without a trace?
After a moment of silence, with a hint of guilt, Jiang Ran answered honestly: “I’m taking a shower. I turned on speakerphone because I’m all wet. Is it too noisy?”
She said this while turning off the showerhead.
But her voice still echoed.
“It’s not noisy,” she heard him say. “Your hands are all wet. How did you unlock and answer the phone?”
“By wiping,” she said naturally. “There’s toilet paper in the bathroom. It only takes two seconds to wipe my hands.”
So she unintentionally revealed that she had rushed out mid-shower, dripping wet all over, only wiping her hands to answer his call—this fact.
She was completely unaware, naturally also unable to see the boy on the other end of the phone, sitting on the stairs in the night breeze, whose lips had slightly curled up, and whose cold, dark eyes had softened slightly.
“Is Harbin fun?” she heard him ask. “You just left without saying anything.”
“It’s usually a place I come to. This year is a special case, so I came later than usual.”
She paused for a moment, not specifying what the “special case” was, but he already knew.
“It’s not really about whether it’s fun or not. The snowmelt in Harbin is terrible, but there are few people… besides, how should I even explain my coming here to you?”
“Hmm?”
“…Aren’t we in a cold war?” she asked, puzzled.
“…”
After a long silence, perhaps realizing that if he didn’t speak, Jiang Ran could stand there holding the phone in silence forever, the boy finally spoke in a somewhat gloomy tone: “When did this happen? I didn’t even know we were in a cold war.”
“Since the day after we came back from Xinjiang. The next day, you went back to school and never spoke to me again.”
She sounded whiny and pitiful.
“…” Beijiao was confused by her pitiful tone. “Did your hand break? Or will your phone explode if you contact me first?”
She didn’t say anything again.
If she could, Beijiao might have had seven or eight eight-hundred-word essays to say—
Three thousand words asking if she even had a heart, and another three thousand using the harshest words to curse her.
This time, it felt like an inexplicable game, where she tried to retreat to advance, while she stood still like someone with a broken leg.
…Was it really that she didn’t understand all this nonsense, or did she simply not care?
She didn’t know.
She only knew that if she didn’t take action, Jiang Ran seemed completely unaffected, continuing to slide around, attend classes… if she didn’t want to see her, she could just go to Harbin.
She really didn’t know what to do with her.
Taking a deep breath, her negative emotions rose again. Beijiao suppressed her temper, “Next Friday is the school’s autumn sports meet. We have a basketball game against Song Die’s college. It’s the final. Are you coming?”
On the other end, the person hesitated slightly: “Next week? The Songbei Ski Resort in Jilin will be opening its season next week, and there’s an event inviting our club—”
“Okay.”
She heard her say.
“Then forget it.”
Then the call was disconnected.
Holding the phone, Jiang Ran stared at the screen, which had already returned to the home interface after being disconnected. She recalled that their dorm’s WiFi signal was pretty good, so it probably wasn’t a sudden loss of connection?
Did she hang up on her?
She didn’t even say “goodbye” before hanging up.
Jiang Ran called back, but the other side didn’t answer, ringing until the system automatically disconnected.
Standing outside the bathroom, she felt a bit dazed.
Mainly because in the past twenty years, no one had ever hung up on her before.
This was a new experience, leaving her a bit unprepared.
After quickly finishing her shower, she tried calling again, but no one answered. She wanted to find someone to ask if the little dog’s phone had been stolen or if she was dead, but she realized she didn’t have her roommate’s contact information.
Ask Song Die?
By this time, the school had already turned off the lights. They weren’t even in the same college, so Song Die couldn’t help.
Jiang Ran felt a sense of desperation, while at the same time lamenting, “Kids are really hard to deal with. I’ll never have a son in the future.”
She scrolled through her phone and scrolled down to find a group named [Too Cold to Ski]. There were five people in the group.
After hesitating for a moment, she carefully composed her message, trying to explain the situation as casually and concisely as possible.
[Whose Ran Ran Ya Is This: Suppose you’re on the phone with someone, and they suddenly hang up mid-conversation. What could be the reason? He mentioned a basketball game next week, and I said okay because our club is going to the Songbei Ski Resort opening event in Jilin next week, and then he hung up on me.]
Thinking for a moment, she still felt wronged and couldn’t help adding another sentence—
[Whose Ran Ran Ya Is This: It was completely inexplicable!]
The message hadn’t been out for long when there was a quick response in the group.
[Nian Nian: Wait a second, this group is still active?]
[Huang Cancan: She must be in a hurry. Usually, she wouldn’t dig up this group unless she was desperate.]
[Nian Nian: After adding back as a friend, we’ve replaced Baidu Baike and Zhihu.]
[Nian Nian: What else could it be? He’s angry, friend @Whose Ran Ran Ya Is This]
[Whose Ran Ran Ya Is This: ??? Angry about what?]
[Er Che: …]
[Nian Nian: …]
[Huang Cancan: I told you, when it comes to love, it’s better to watch elementary school kids. It’s way more interesting than doing it yourself.]
[Nian Nian: He’s angry. How can you still be so shocked asking what he’s angry about?]
[Whose Ran Ran Ya Is This: …]
…
The following Friday was the basketball game and also Beijiao’s birthday.
From the moment she woke up in the morning, she couldn’t help checking her WeChat on her phone repeatedly. From midnight onwards, there was naturally no sudden surprise (like suddenly showing a flight screenshot for today), and she wasn’t at all surprised by this. She threw her phone away and slept very soundly.
But the next day, she started checking her phone every five minutes after waking up.
At nine o’clock, under Zhang Liang’s persistent invitation using threats and inducements like “Without you, we have no future,” Beijiao still went to the basketball court.
On the way, she checked her phone twice. Looking at it repeatedly only annoyed her, so she clicked her tongue in annoyance, really wanting to block her—
But she thought about it and couldn’t bear to.
So she blocked herself instead: she turned on airplane mode.
As long as I turn on airplane mode, it’s not that she’s not contacting me, but that she can’t reach me.JPG.
The indoor gym was lively. Although it was just an internal school competition, the stands were full. Looking around, there were even many people from other schools, judging by their clearly non-student attire.
When Beijiao arrived, someone on the stands was pulling a banner. She recognized Liang He in charge of directing. When the banner was unfurled, it clearly read: Wishing Beijiao a Happy Birthday! In the lower left corner were the words: Declared by the School Student Union & Department Student Union.
Beijiao: “…”
Beijiao turned to leave, but Zhang Liang stopped her.
Beijiao: “Did you consider how embarrassing it would be if we lose to the biomedical team after making such a big fuss?”
“We didn’t consider it at all,” Zhang Liang gave a confused expression, genuinely not thinking they would lose, “Will we?”
In recent years, Biomedical Engineering had steadily won the college cup because every year, regardless of how the team changed, there would always be one or two members who were key players on the school team, with extensive competition experience and systematic training.
This year, with the addition of the freshman reserves and sophomore half-newcomers who were already key players on the school team, there were even four.
During the time Beijiao and Zhang Liang had been discussing this, what they feared most came true. Wearing the department basketball team uniform, Song Die walked in from outside, holding a ball.
He caught sight of the banner on the stands and smiled, “Such a big show. You must be confident about winning?”
Beijiao expressionlessly said, “It’s nothing to do with me,” and gave Zhang Liang a “See, I told you so” look. Zhang Liang awkwardly scratched his face.
“How is it not related to you? Your name is written here,” Song Die said gleefully. “Liang He is here too; she’s from our school, tsk tsk.”
Bei Jiao was so annoyed by him that he shoved him away.
Song Die staggered slightly but didn’t fall over. He slowly looked Bei Jiao up and down: “Is it your birthday today?”
Bei Jiao glanced at him sideways, waiting for whatever nonsense he would spew next.
Song Die smiled slightly: “Don’t you know, she seems to have gone to Jilin these days, there’s some kind of opening event, right? Isn’t it today? What a good day today is, huh?”
Regardless of anything else, Song Die knew exactly how to mess with Bei Jiao’s head. Right now, Bei Jiao didn’t even want to play basketball anymore.
He just wanted to die.
…
But no one cared about Bei Jiao’s mental health.
The game started quickly.
Bei Jiao was still half-dead, moving completely mechanically. When the ball came to his face, he caught it, shot, and the ball went in… He didn’t make any extra movements or thoughts, like a heartless scoring machine.
After a few minutes of play, their coach called a timeout and redeployed the strategy, assigning someone to guard Song Die.
“The opposing freshmen are just rookies too, they have potential but no teamwork. Everyone here has been working together for at least a year, there’s no reason to lose. What’s the big deal about being on the school team anyway? It’s just Song Die who’s a bit of a problem!”
Bei Jiao wasn’t listening to a word the coach was saying. At that moment, he was staring toward the entrance, not really expecting a miracle—but that’s how it worked in TV dramas.
When the female lead is at her most desperate, the male lead appears like a god, his tall and reliable figure backlit, appearing in the female lead’s eyes.
…So come on, now he was desperate enough, it was time.
Staring at the entrance, the handsome young man thought expressionlessly, then held his breath for five seconds, not even a fly showed up.
The coach suddenly called his name.
He looked away, responding blankly, “Huh?” and again, “Huh?”
“…Never mind,” the coach said speechlessly. “You guys can just pass the ball to Bei Jiao when you get the chance, he can score.”
Even though his soul was clearly not present.
When the timeout ended, Bei Jiao was still wandering around the court like a ghost, dragging his feet listlessly. His opponents felt guarding him was a waste of time, but not guarding him either was difficult because he was their main scorer!
Song Die and others felt like they were being hit by chaotic punches.
This strange atmosphere continued until the fourth quarter. As the game gradually approached its end, Bei Jiao kept glancing toward the entrance increasingly frequently. One second before the final long pass reached him, he was still standing at the mid-court line, twisting his head to look at the entrance.
The ball hit him instinctively, and the force was too strong, causing some pain, and he even made a “Mm” sound.
“Bei Jiao!”
“Bei God!”
“Bro! My dear bro! We’re just two points short for overtime! Get it in! If you do, you’re my dear dad!”
Amidst the chaotic cheers from the sidelines, Bei Jiao didn’t hear a word. Still holding the ball and not reacting, Song Die approached him. The two equally tall teenagers faced off, and Song Die said, “Still looking? Waiting for her? Does she even know it’s your birthday? Probably not, if you didn’t tell her.”
“…”
“Though I guess it wouldn’t make a difference whether she knows or not.”
Bei Jiao thought, he talks too much, why hasn’t he bitten his tongue?
“She’s so busy, she won’t come,” Song Die’s voice drifted into his ears lightly. “Stop looking.”
Bei Jiao slowly lifted his eyelids and gave him a cold glance. As the countdown to the end of the game ticked down, he suddenly jumped up—
The ball, filled with his frustration, hit Song Die’s fingertips as they both jumped, but due to the immense force, it didn’t change course at all. Two seconds after the countdown hit zero, the ball made a loud clang as it bounced around the rim—
And then it went in.
The venue was silent for a few seconds. When the red team’s score, which had been behind, flashed up on the scoreboard showing they had taken the lead, Zhang Liang stood up and raised his arms triumphantly!
Countless people surged forward, and in the ensuing chaos, Bei Jiao even felt like someone grabbed and kissed him a few times. He was still like a dead dog, not even resisting when being kissed, his mind completely blank—
The basketball court entrance was still empty.
In the end, he had become so desperate that he could hardly breathe; the person who should have appeared still hadn’t shown up.
…He really wanted to die.
…
The celebration party in the evening was at the “Wuwo” bar.
Zhang Liang generously booked the entire venue like a wealthy patron. The bar owner, hearing it was an employee’s birthday, generously gave a 50% discount, charging basically only cost price.
Besides his roommates, classmates from the department, and the basketball team members, Song Die and Liang He arrived too. Zhao Keshi, Big Head, and the other park friends came later…
The small bar was packed to the brim. Bei Jiao sat on the sofa, still feeling a bit dazed, vaguely wondering from when he had so many people around him.
Before university, he had always been alone.
Someone opened a bottle of whiskey and poured almost half a glass without any basic etiquette. The ice clinked and swirled in the glass, making a pleasant sound. The glass was handed to him.
“Happy birthday, Brother Bei!”
He downed the strong liquor in one go, thinking to himself, what a bunch of crap.
How could there be such a painful thing as celebrating a birthday?
No one knew the dark thoughts swirling in his mind. They were already used to his usual cold expression and arrogant demeanor, so they didn’t care. They happily clinked glasses, shouting “Happy birthday,” “Good luck,” “Long life,” and “Have a baby soon”…
The scene was in chaos. Bei Jiao even doubted whether they themselves knew what they were saying in their toasts.
At this moment, Liang He asked, “Hey, why isn’t there a cake-cutting ceremony?”
Zhang Liang let out a “Damn it, I forgot!”
Song Die said casually beside him, “Order one now.”
“How can we get a good cake if we order now? Private cakes need to be reserved in advance.”
“Then just get a regular one, plant-based cream is fine, it won’t kill us. We were happy as kids eating plant-based cream cakes, right?”
“Better than nothing, right?”
“Yeah, it’s just a ritual. When can’t we eat cake?”
“Is there a bakery nearby? Let me go check?”
“It’s already ten o’clock, which bakery stays open until ten?”
They all talked at once, offering suggestions.
Bei Jiao sat there listening to them talk, feeling his head buzzing. His alcohol tolerance was truly terrible; after one glass his head was spinning, and he didn’t hear a word they were saying.
He just knew they were making a fuss over a stupid cake.
With great effort, he sat up, and after a long while, let out a heavy sigh: “Forget it, let’s just drink. I never had the habit of celebrating birthdays anyway—”
“No way!” Liang He said. “Don’t we have to blow out the candles and make a wish? It’s the only chance this year!”
“…There’s still New Year, New Year’s Day, Christmas, Mid-Autumn Festival, I can make wishes whenever I want, even Qingming Festival,” Bei Jiao said numbly. “I don’t have any wishes either—”
Don’t bother anymore.
Before those four words could leave his mouth, he suddenly heard the bell on the bar door jingling loudly.
It interrupted him and annoyed his head.
Since leaving the basketball court earlier that day, Bei Jiao had learned to stop looking at the door randomly. He had turned on airplane mode on his phone and hadn’t turned it off.
As the man’s loafers creaked against the wooden floor of the bar, he didn’t even bother to lift his eyelids, lost in thought: Which glass should I drink next? Which one could let me sleep until tomorrow—or even the next life—so I wouldn’t have to endure the agony of being awake?
He sat up like a blind man in the dim light, aimlessly feeling around the table for a drink.
As his eyes swept across the table, the person who had just entered the bar was already standing in front of the table and wasn’t leaving.
Bei Jiao originally didn’t care who the person was, but his gaze was involuntarily drawn to the straight legs across the table…
Well, not exactly the legs.
It was the shoes on her feet.
Bei Jiao recognized those shoes; Jiang Ran had the same pair, worth eight or nine thousand yuan. Bei Jiao’s comment on them was: only someone with too much money and nothing better to do would buy them.
At the time, she had rolled her eyes and said: Right, that’s exactly me.
He stopped feeling for the wine glass, thinking he must have been targeted tonight.
With a desperate mindset, he followed the black calf leather shoes upward. First, he saw the transparent box in the person’s hand, inside it was a three-tiered cake, then her short skirt, spaghetti straps, and leather jacket.
Every second, his heartbeat slowed compared to the previous second, but beat stronger.
Her hair was softly draped over her shoulders. She wore a beret on her head. As their eyes met across the table, she took off the hat and casually placed it aside, speaking in a calm tone: “Did you lose your phone?”
Her voice was the kind that all young boys would love to hear, a mix of youthful and authoritative tones. The previously noisy table fell silent for a few seconds, as if several people’s hormones had been stirred.
Bei Jiao didn’t speak.
She placed the cake on the table, as if explaining or talking to herself: “My flight was delayed.”
Bei Jiao sat on the sofa, unresponsive, just staring at her motionlessly.
Zhang Liang thought something was wrong and hurriedly tried to mediate: “It’s okay, it’s okay! Sister, you came just in time. We were just worrying about where to get a cake—”
Some of the people around didn’t even know who Jiang Ran was. They just saw a beautiful sister carrying a cake, like a fairy descending from heaven…
And Bei Jiao still had that rebellious look.
As if someone owed him two hundred and fifty thousand.
Stunned, they heard Zhang Liang speak into the mic, finally finding their senses and obediently calling her “Sister,” actually thinking she was Bei Jiao’s cousin or something, thinking to themselves how beautiful this guy’s sister was, why was he so unhappy?
After a while, they saw Bei Jiao leaning on the table and standing up, his voice a bit cold: “It’s 11 o’clock.”
In another hour, it would be his birthday.
If someone important, they would send the first birthday wishes at midnight, and she almost missed it.
Jiang Ran slightly bent down, wanting to get closer to see if he was angry or something. Before she could actually get close, a warm, big hand suddenly grabbed her wrist.
She was startled, feeling like he was indeed angry. She murmured to soothe him, “My flight was really delayed,” but before she could finish speaking, she was dragged over by his pull.
His big hand gripped the back of her head, and before she could react, Bei Jiao had already kissed her on the lips.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage