The desk lamp cast a bright rectangle over the workbook. Tang Yan gripped her pen but never put it to paper; after a long struggle she slapped the book down, pressed a hand to her forehead, and sighed in frustration.
Xia Zihan came in carrying freshly dry‑cleaned clothes. Seeing Tang Yan’s state, she asked, “Tang Yan, what’s wrong with you tonight? You’ve been out of sorts since you got back. Did something happen?”
Tang Yan shook her head, rose from her chair, and forced a smile. “I’m fine—probably just tired.”
Whatever she was going through, she would have to bear and swallow by herself. What most people might consider a trivial favor crossed a line she could never pass; it was something she would defend even if she had to grit her teeth.
“The finals are almost here,” Xia Zihan said. “Everyone’s under a lot of pressure—we still need to rest, though.”
Another roommate chimed in, “I’m pretty laid‑back. As long as I don’t flunk and can scrape a pass, I’m happy.”
“Same here!” said a third.
Xia Zihan laughed. “No ambition, any of you. My goal isn’t high either—eighty in the core subjects is fine.” She paused. “What about you, Tang Yan?”
Tang Yan pursed her lips. “The higher the score the better—I want to win the scholarship this semester.”
“Wow, that’s hard, especially in our major. The guys have such an edge.” Xia Zihan sounded impressed.
“Who wants the scholarship?” Han Shuang stuck her head out from the upper bunk.
“Tang Yan,” Xia Zihan answered crisply.
Lu Wan added lightly, “Scholarships aren’t easy. There are only a few spots in the whole year.”
Tang Yan gave a small, embarrassed smile. “Hard or not, I still have to try.”
Even before college she had pictured herself earning a scholarship through hard work. It would prove her ability before she entered the adult world—and lighten her financial burden, too.
Though the counselor’s summons to the office that evening had rattled her, she never let her routine slide; she was almost the only one in the dorm who studied until lights‑out every night.
The first snow of winter fell quietly on Huadu.
Overnight the city lay under a white blanket, trees coated in silver frost, snow crunching underfoot. After dark the streets filled with barbecue stalls—grab a couple of friends, a few beers, dozens of skewers, and you could sit chatting until midnight.
A week remained before finals. Classes had stopped for full‑time revision. That evening the roommates had arranged to go out for skewers in the name of stress relief. Normally Tang Yan would have refused and stayed in to study, but tonight—she didn’t know why—she went along.
Xia Zihan treated and ordered with abandon: ten skewers of nearly everything, soon piling the table high. The restaurant’s heating was on full blast; Tang Yan felt hot, took off her coat, and laid it across her lap. They ordered beer as well, though she didn’t drink.
While Xia Zihan, Han Shuang, and Lu Wan chatted about luxury cosmetics and handbags—topics that neither interested nor concerned Tang Yan—she sat quietly, eating, and now and then glanced through the glass door. Passers‑by walked past shivering, pulling their collars tight. She wondered why she had come out at all.
“Hey, Tang Yan, when we’re done, let’s stroll down the pedestrian street.”
Lost in thought, Tang Yan didn’t hear.
Tipsy and red‑faced, Xia Zihan leaned over, hugged Tang Yan’s arm, and rested her head on her shoulder. “Tang Yan, I’m talking to you.”
Tang Yan pushed her away almost at once, as if scalded. “S‑sorry.”
“Ouch, that hurt!” Xia Zihan pouted, rubbing her arm.
“I really am sorry—I didn’t mean to…”
“I just hugged your arm. Why such a huge reaction? It’s normal for girls to be close, isn’t it?” Xia Zihan looked puzzled.
Of course it wasn’t normal—at least not for Tang Yan. She wanted to say so but held her tongue.
Just then Han Shuang laughed. “She’s asking if you’ll walk with us. No classes tomorrow.”
Flustered, Tang Yan agreed before she knew what she was saying.
They left the warm barbecue shop and stepped into a biting wind. The girls huddled together for warmth. Tang Yan jammed her hands into her pockets, thinking it would be far warmer back in the dorm.
“Last week I passed a store with the prettiest scarves. I really want one.”
“The new accessories shop?”
“Everything in there is so cute.”
…
Tang Yan still couldn’t contribute; her head was full of study, exams, study, exams.
Her gaze roamed, and by chance she saw, at the entrance of a large karaoke bar, a heavyset man pestering a woman who looked familiar.
As they drew closer she recognized Aunt Ji.
They were about to cross the street. Tang Yan broke away. “You go on ahead—I have something to take care of.”
“Tang Yan, what is it?” Xia Zihan called, but Tang Yan was already running the other way.
Han Shuang patted her shoulder. “Let her go. Come on, we’ll be late.”
“Director Ji, why leave so early? Come back in for another drink.” The man grinned while trying to grope. Ji Yuqing dodged as politely as she could.
“Director Wang, another day, please. I really have an emergency at home.”
“What emergency? Your company’s been eager to work with me. Is this how you treat an important client?” he said, annoyed.
“Director Wang, that’s not what I mean.” Ji Yuqing kept sidestepping, but he grabbed both her arms and slipped an arm around her shoulders.
Right then something unexpected happened. Tang Yan appeared out of nowhere and punched the man hard, making him see stars; then, in a taekwondo stance, she landed several sharp kicks.
Afraid things would get out of hand, Ji Yuqing quickly pulled her back.
“Yan Yan, stop—one more hit and we’ll be in serious trouble.”
Tang Yan’s chest heaved. “Aunt Ji, let me beat him up for you.”
The man staggered to his feet, trembling, and pointed at them. “Fine, just you wait.”
As he fled, Ji Yuqing turned to Tang Yan. “Why are you here?”
Tang Yan looked straight at her. “Because I have to protect you.”