End of Summer, 2005.
Jiang City, Yaojia Village

Dawn had not yet fully broken. The valley was filled with the sounds of insects and birds.

“Jiayin, a phone call costs one yuan per minute.”

“They say rich people all have mobile phones now. I’ve seen them in the high-rise buildings in Jiang City… ten thousand yuan! Only people who live in villas can afford those, right?”

“Jiayin-jie is so smart. Once you graduate from college and become a teacher, you’ll be able to buy one!”

The friends who came to see Yao Jiayin off were a mix of teary-eyed sadness, excitement, and silent resignation.

Twelve-year-old Yao Xiaohua clung tightly to Yao Jiayin’s arm, sobbing.

She looked as heartbroken as if her own mother were leaving on a long journey.

“Jiayin-jie, wuwu… Beijing is so, so far. Mama says it costs a lot of money just to go there once…”

It took an hour of walking through mountain paths to reach the town, then two hours on a tractor to the county.

After that, three more hours by bus to the city’s train station, and finally a full day and night on the train to the capital.

Mama said that once Jiayin-jie left the mountains, she would never come back.

Yao Xiaohua was overwhelmed with worry and couldn’t help asking:

“Will you stay in Beijing after you graduate and never come back again?”

Jiayin-jie’s parents had passed away ten years ago. Three years earlier, her grandparents had also died.

She had no family left here anymore—what reason would she have to return?

Yao Jiayin’s chest was soaked with tears as she gently patted Xiaohua’s head.

“Of course I’ll come back. My family is buried here—I have to come back to visit their graves.”

“And you’re all my best friends! Once I get settled in Beijing and earn lots of money, I’ll buy you gifts…”

Hearing that only made Xiaohua cry even harder.

It wasn’t even five in the morning yet. The mountains were still shrouded in darkness.

A boy pushing a bicycle waited until everyone else had finished speaking before squatting down.

He carefully opened a sturdy canvas bag, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Jiayin, this is the pickled radish and mixed fish paste my mom made for you half a month ago.”

“There’ll be plenty of good food in Beijing, but this… this is the taste of home…”

The boy had delicate features, but his arms and neck were dark and yellowed from sun exposure. He wore a faded sleeveless undershirt.

Yao Junfeng was a year younger than Yao Jiayin and wouldn’t start his senior year of high school until the second half of the year.

Ever since childhood, he had followed behind her like a loyal shadow, saving up his pocket money to buy her milk candies and soda.

Everyone knew Yao Junfeng liked Yao Jiayin—but he wasn’t the only one.

Yao Jiayin was beautiful, recognized as the prettiest girl in several nearby villages.

Her thick, straight black hair was tied into a ponytail. Her dark eyes curved into crescents when she smiled—clear, bright, and likable.

Each of her features was delicate on its own, but together they carried an indescribable Jiangnan charm.

Like a graceful lotus—sometimes tightly budded, sometimes boldly in bloom.

In everyone’s eyes, Yao Jiayin was not only beautiful and academically gifted, but also sincere and gentle.

Yao Junfeng felt happy and proud that the girl he secretly loved was going to study in Beijing.

Yet at the same time, he felt despair over a first love he had never even confessed.

Someone as wonderful as Jiayin—once she went to Beijing, there would surely be even more people who liked her.

Young masters Zhang and Li like the ones on TV would pursue her.

They would romantically give her flowers, take her to eat steak dinners, even fly her on airplanes…

Jiayin would have a bright, radiant future.

—————//////……..

Seeing that Junfeng had fallen silent, the other kids tactfully pulled the sniffling Yao Xiaohua away, giving the two a moment alone.

As soon as they left, Yao Junfeng squatted down and started wiping away tears.

His heart hurt so badly. He wanted to cry, but he had to hold it in—he couldn’t embarrass himself.

He could cry slowly once he got home. There would be plenty of time to be sad later.

Yao Jiayin: “…”

After waiting quietly for a moment, she gently nudged his calf with the tip of her shoe.

Softly, she asked, “You rode your bike here—were you planning to take me part of the way?”

Before he could answer, she smiled gratefully.

“Junfeng, you’re so kind and thoughtful. You knew I had so much to carry and that the walk would be long…”

Hearing this, Yao Junfeng immediately wiped his face and stood up.

“Don’t say that—it sounds so distant. Come on, give me everything—”

He reached out, took her backpack, and flashed her a bright smile.

“Jiayin, get on. I’ll wear the backpack in front, and hang this bag here.”

Yao Jiayin did as she was told. Once she was seated steadily, she said again, touched,

“If you weren’t sending me off, I’d have to walk for a whole hour.”

“Oh, right—we can eat meat buns in town together, okay? I’ve been craving them for ages. I’ll treat you.”

Yao Junfeng pedaled forward steadily, the wind lifting his short black hair.

“Don’t spend money. You’ll need so much once you’re in Beijing…”

“I helped chop wood for a few days. The foreman gave me twenty yuan—it’s specifically for sending you off.”

One big meat bun cost fifty cents. A bowl of shredded pork noodles cost three yuan. And then instant noodles, sausages, sunflower seeds for the train…

Sitting behind him, Yao Jiayin lightly pinched the fabric at his waist.

She gazed at the mountain road ahead, a gentle smile curving her lips.

“Thank you, Junfeng. Once I settle down, I’ll find a part-time job. Then I’ll call you.”

In the early summer morning, the southern village had not yet warmed up.

The girl tilted her head back, watching the first light of dawn break through the sky.

She began to imagine Beijing—

The nation’s capital, filled with towering buildings. Neon lights glowing all night long, endless streams of cars.

Every weekend, she and her friends would go to the town’s newsstand to flip through magazines.

The girls in the magazines were fashionable, wearing camisoles and denim shorts, with round metal earrings.

Beautiful models dyed their hair chestnut brown, curled it into trendy pear perms, and wore crystal hair clips.

Yao Jiayin was beautiful—of course she loved beauty too.

But she was too poor. Every yuan had to be stretched thin; how could she afford to dress up?

So she braided her hair in different styles and sewed her own clothes from fabric.

With leftover floral cloth, she would sew hair ties with elastic bands. When she wore them, her ponytail looked especially charming.

Many girls at school bought hair ties from her—three mao for one, five mao for two.

Yao Jiayin was never truly insecure.

She quietly held onto a fierce determination to rise above her circumstances.

Everything she did seemed unhurried on the surface, but in truth she planned three steps ahead, never daring to take a wrong one.

Because she had nothing left.

Only by leaving—by stepping into a broader, wider world—could she gain infinite possibilities.

After five years of effort, eighteen-year-old Yao Jiayin was admitted to a university this year—and not just any university, but a prestigious one.

The village officials were delighted and reported the news upward. At the end of August, they brought her a red envelope with one thousand yuan.

It was a huge sum to her—yet still barely enough.

It would only ensure she didn’t starve.

………///….

The green train rattled on for a full day and night.

On September 8th, Yao Jiayin stood wearily at the gates of the Normal University.

Amid the bustling crowd, she felt like a small stream fish suddenly tossed into a vast lake.

Fear, nervousness, loneliness, helplessness, forced composure…

Many students arriving from far away looked just like her.

Some wore expressions of excitement, others fumbled alone, some were accompanied by their parents. She didn’t stand out.

Yet even so, several welcoming senior students spotted the pretty freshman at first glance.

The girl in a white cotton dress had soft, delicate features. Her long black hair was tied high into a ponytail.

Her back was straight; her expression alternated between confusion and curiosity.

Like a gardenia swaying in the breeze—pure and captivating.

And when this flower spoke, the hearts of three local Beijing seniors nearly melted.

Was this the soft Wu dialect from Jiangnan?

Just like on TV—lots of flat tones, gentle speech, with a subtle lilt.

Yao Jiayin watched as one senior carried her heavy backpack, another took her cloth bag, and a third enthusiastically introduced the campus.

She suddenly thought of the boys in her village, one or two years younger than her.

Every time she returned from school in the county, it was the same.

One would grab her bag, another would give her a ride, a third would already have soda waiting for her…

Yao Jiayin gave the seniors a shy smile and lowered her head to thank them.

When they passed a small convenience shop, she stopped and suddenly said,

“I’m a bit thirsty… shall I treat the seniors to iced black tea?”

Before she could slowly dig out her coin purse, the talkative senior beside her immediately stepped forward.

“I’ll buy it—how could I let a junior pay?”

Yao Jiayin pressed her slightly dry lips together, her eyes bright as she looked at the third-year senior.

“That feels so embarrassing. Senior, let me give you the money.”

The northern man, Zhao Jiahao, waved his hand generously, speaking in a Beijing accent.

“Ah, it’s just a drink. Don’t be so polite, junior.”

Yao Jiayin smiled softly and stopped insisting, replying gracefully,

“Thank you, senior~”

The other two boys carrying the bags shot Zhao Jiahao teasing looks.

You’re practically spreading your feathers on the spot.

Don’t think we can’t see what you’re up to after being single for so long.

A pure, innocent little white flower—beautiful and obedient—was exactly Zhao Jiahao’s favorite type.