Time rolled back to more than a decade ago, when Ji Yuqing had just graduated college and was stepping into the workforce for the first time—a fresh-faced newcomer eager to prove herself. She had volunteered for a company assignment that required travel to Xinjiang, hauling her luggage along with bright eyes and boundless enthusiasm. The weather back then was much like now—clear skies and sunshine, a beautiful day.
Back then, all she had was passion. But her excitement quickly met reality. The moment she arrived, the change in altitude and climate hit her hard—she spent a full week stuck in a hotel, sick and exhausted. Fortunately, she bounced back in time to complete the company’s assignment flawlessly. She negotiated a successful deal with their Xinjiang partner company and signed what became a long-standing agreement. When she returned, it marked the first time she rose above entry-level status at the company.
From that moment on, Ji Yuqing became addicted to the thrill of career advancement. She worked day and night without rest, constantly improving her skills. On one hand, she wanted to distance herself from the Shen family and stand on her own. On the other, she was determined to rescue her mother from the life she had been trapped in.
People in the company called her all kinds of names behind her back: “workaholic,” “ice queen,” “emotionless robot,” even “asexual.”
Looking back now, Ji Yuqing sometimes wondered if she had lost herself. Maybe it was time to slow down, to remember that life wasn’t meant to be all work.
The train rolled steadily forward, the tracks humming with rhythm. The scenery outside flickered by, and Ji Yuqing finally put down her phone to admire the passing landscapes.
“Pair of kings—anyone want it?”
“Pair of twos.”
Down below, Xia Zihan, Han Shuang, and Lu Wan were playing poker. Tang Yan wasn’t part of the game. She was lying on the upper bunk, trying to nap. Maybe it was the lack of sleep the night before, but as soon as she boarded, her head felt foggy. Still, the constant noise made it impossible to fall asleep right away.
“Hey, Tang Yan, if you can’t sleep, come down and join us! The ride is still long,” Xia Zihan called up.
Tang Yan rolled over again. The girls below could feel her movements. “Nah, I’m sleepy. You guys go ahead.”
“Alright then,” one of them sighed dramatically.
“This ride is forever long. I don’t know how I’m gonna make it through. Anyone bring a power bank? I forgot mine.”
“I’ve got two—you can borrow one later.”
“Awesome!”
Getting real rest on a train wasn’t easy. There was a crying baby one cabin over, boisterous laughter from the next car, footsteps shuffling up and down the aisles, food carts clanging as the attendants announced snacks—all layered over the constant rumbling of the train.
But eventually, Tang Yan fell asleep. And when she did, she had a dream that haunted her long after she woke up.
“I like Aunt Ji. I want to be with her!” she declared boldly to her mother.
The slap came fast and fierce, landing across her right cheek with a burning sting. A bright red mark appeared on her skin.
“Do you even hear what you’re saying? Do you understand what you’re doing? How do you expect me to face the world? You two cannot be together. I won’t allow it!”
…
Her mother in the dream was terrifying—screaming, frantic, and cruel. Tang Yan had never seen her like that before. It scared her so much she jolted awake, drenched in sweat, even though the train’s AC was blasting.
She sat up dazed, wiping her forehead. The girls below were still laughing and playing—now they’d switched from poker to some drawing game and were making a racket.
She rubbed her temples, groggily leaned over the edge, and asked, “Where are we now?”
She asked because the world outside the window had gone completely dark.
“Oh, hey, you’re awake!” Xia Zihan looked up. “We’re already out of Shanxi, I think.”
Tang Yan clutched her forehead, staying quiet for a long moment.
Then Xia Zihan added, ���You want something to eat? It’s dinnertime. The food cart came by earlier, but you were out cold, so we didn’t wake you.”
Tang Yan picked up her phone—it was already 8 p.m. Just as she was about to say something, the food cart rolled past again.
“Nice, here it comes. Let’s grab something to eat.” Xia Zihan set down her cards.
The train attendant stopped beside them, offering overpriced meals—thirty yuan for the cheapest box, some going for forty or fifty. Tang Yan thought it was too expensive and passed, muttering how expensive train food was.
The girls tried to convince her to eat anyway. “Even if it’s pricey, you can’t starve!”
Tang Yan pouted and said she’d just grab instant noodles later.
Meanwhile, Ji Yuqing was sitting in the dining car, picking at a simple meal before pulling out her laptop to work. The car wasn’t crowded, with passengers coming and going. Not wanting Tang Yan to know she was on the same train, she didn’t dare call. They only communicated through WeChat.
Aunt Ji: Have you had dinner?
Tang Yan was sitting on her lower bunk with a steaming bowl of instant noodles—way more expensive than what she’d pay outside.
When her phone lit up, she immediately set the noodles aside to reply.
Tang Yan: I have! What about you, Aunt Ji? Have you arrived at your destination?
Ji Yuqing felt a twinge of guilt as she typed. She hadn’t expected to one day lie so casually.
Aunt Ji: I’ve arrived. At the hotel now.
Tang Yan: I’ve still got a full day left on the train before I get there.
Aunt Ji: Trains can be crowded and chaotic. Stay alert. The food might be pricey and not great, but just eat enough to keep your energy up.
Reading that, Tang Yan looked at her instant noodles again and smiled. Aunt Ji really did know her too well.
Tang Yan: Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself on the train.
Aunt Ji: Alright. I’ve got other things to handle. Try to get some rest tonight.
After the chat ended, Tang Yan put her phone down and picked her noodles back up, satisfied. Just being able to talk like this every day felt good. At least things hadn’t gotten awkward. Whether Aunt Ji knew about her feelings or not didn’t matter anymore. The truth wouldn’t change either way.
“Here, have an egg.” Xia Zihan tossed a boiled egg into Tang Yan’s bowl.
Tang Yan was surprised and smiled. “Thanks.”
“No problem! We’re roommates, right?” Xia Zihan beamed.
Back in her compartment, Ji Yuqing leaned against the soft sleeper, laptop on her lap as she worked. Her phone lit up with a message from Pei Wen—nosy as ever.
Pei Wen: Sooo… how’s the train ride? Has Little Yanyan noticed you yet?
Ji Yuqing raised an eyebrow, tapped the voice message button, and replied lightly, “Have I been assigning you too little lately? Did you finish revising that contract I sent you?”
Pei Wen’s voice message came back immediately, full of panic. “I’m on it, I swear! Ten more minutes—it’ll be in your inbox!”
Ji Yuqing didn’t reply. She set her phone down and went back to her laptop.
But after staring at the screen a moment, she forgot where she left off. Instead, she closed the document and opened a photo folder on her desktop.
It was a private album—just for Tang Yan.
Inside were the few childhood photos sent by Tang Yan’s mother, as well as pictures taken since she arrived in Huadu. The most recent ones were all from the school anniversary event, captured through Ji Yuqing’s lens.
Looking through them, Ji Yuqing saw just how much the girl had changed. More confident, more radiant, her eyes shining with light.
And without realizing it, a soft smile curled across her lips.