(35)

After that, our love life was divided into two parts.

While we were in Australia, I moved into Yan Han’s apartment, and we lived like a young couple.

He cooked during the day, and at night, he did me.

When it was time to go back to China during the holidays, he would come find me whenever he had time off, and I’d also go to his city to see him.

Every time I went over to his place, we’d always have spicy soup in the morning.

I got used to it, and eventually fell in love with it.

Burp.

Aside from breakfast, he’d also feed me three to four meals a day.

After just a few days of that, I came back home so fat my dog didn’t even recognize me.

Later, after my repeated questioning, Yan Han finally admitted that he usually had spicy soup as brunch—it counted for two meals.

Excuse me?

Then what about my three to four meals a day count as?

Does that mean I can eat a lot?

When he came to visit me, I’d sneak my dog out to meet him.

Like owner, like dog—upon seeing him, the dog’s tail wagged like a propeller.

Yan Han squatted down, scooped the little white dog into his arms, and kissed its head with a smile.

I took him to all the popular spots online, ate local specialties, and brought him to a temple to draw fortune sticks.

Just like most student couples keeping each other company.

One time during the break, I jokingly told him that I wanted to go visit him, but I was about to return to school and couldn’t bear to leave my little dog behind.

A thousand kilometers—he drove an entire day alone just to see me.

Then took me and the dog on a road trip.

He bought a bunch of snacks for me in the front passenger seat, and even brought dog treats for the pup.

I love him so much.

It’s not that I’m love brain.

I just think that maybe I won’t ever find someone who loves me more than he does.

(36)

I kind of want to cry.

We applied to different cities for graduate school.

We’re about to start a long-distance relationship.

I really can’t bear it.

I can’t bear it.

(37)

Yan Han helped me settle down in S City, then returned to B City.

One second I sent him off at the departure gate, the next second I was already checking flights from S City to B City on my phone.

Luckily, the tickets weren’t expensive, and there were plenty of flights.

I booked one for the next weekend and sent him a screenshot.

He only replied after passing security.

A big red heart.

Then a voice message.

“I miss you already.”

(38)

We kept flying back and forth on the route between S City and B City.

Whenever he was busy, I’d be the one flying over.

When I was busy, he’d fly over.

We watched countless sunsets at the Opera House, and countless times the sea in GC.1This was written as GC in the raw and I assume this is Gold Coast.

Many times, I’d head straight to the airport after class on Friday. The red-eye flights made my eyes so dry I couldn’t keep them open, and my whole body was puffy.

But knowing he was waiting for me on the other side, I pushed through with all my strength.

The return trips were the hardest—shameless as I was, I always ended up crying on the plane.

Two hours of flight time. In those two years, we flew for hundreds of hours.

(39)

Our two years of grad school ended, and we both returned to China.

It’s a different place again.

I couldn’t hold on anymore.

He took over his family’s company in Z City, while I found a stable job at a design institute in H City that was aligned with my major, and a good place to settle down.

We coordinated our schedules and picked a weekend that wasn’t too busy; he flew over to see me.

We walked along the West Lake, but there were too many people. I didn’t dare hold his hand.

He came over with a second ice cream cone, half off the second one, and handed one to me.

Looking at the cone, I thought of that one from four years ago, and tears fell from my eyes for no reason.

“Don’t cry.”

He raised a hand to wipe my tears, but his eyes were red too.

“Can we stop being long-distance?”

I shook my head and avoided his hand.

Later, he changed his flight and stayed in H City with me. Every day, he came to my office to have lunch with me, waited in my rented apartment in the evenings, and cooked me dinner.

He acted like everything was easy and carefree, but one night, I accidentally lit up his phone screen. It was filled with missed calls and messages from work group chats.

But he muted his phone.

I quietly cuddled up to him and slept through the night again.

His body was warm. In H City without central heating, he was the best baby heater I could have.

(40)

I booked his flight for the next day and took him to the airport after I got off work.

Before boarding, he held my hand tightly.

“Let’s try to figure something out, okay?”

I nodded, holding back my tears.

Later, we did try a lot of things—video calls every day, reading the same book through an app, flying to each other’s cities over the holidays.

But the effect never lasted long enough, while our longing always did.

In the end, we still broke up.

Like every couple defeated by long distance.