Chapter Thirty-Three: A Subtle Melancholy

The applause from her classmates was thunderous, making Dong Yanyan feel as if she were floating on air. She grinned triumphantly and announced, “The warm-up is over—now comes the moment to witness a miracle! Watch closely, everyone—this is an empty bottle!” She picked up the transparent drink bottle, unscrewed the cap and let the students in the front row examine it, then screwed the cap tightly back on.

“And here’s a coin. Now I’m going to make it appear inside the bottle! Everyone, count with me: one, two, three!” As they counted to three, she picked up the coin and tapped it lightly against the bottle cap. There was a crisp sound, and the coin elegantly dropped into the bottle. She picked up the bottle and deliberately shook it, turning it upside down to show the contents.

A round of enthusiastic applause followed. Even though these were just simple little tricks, children of this era still found them astonishing. Dong Yanyan smiled sweetly and returned to her seat, brimming with pride. She hadn’t expected that, even at thirty, she could still feel the giddy excitement of a young girl. Perhaps crossing through time had made her heart young again! Or perhaps her heart had never truly aged at all?

Next on the program was Jiang Fan from the boys’ dormitory, who played guitar and sang “Yesterday Once More.” The music, accompanied by his deep voice, flowed gently through the classroom.

Nothing could be more nostalgic than this.

*

After the party, Yang Lili and Leng Haoyang hooked up a DVD player to the TV and put on a movie—“The Whirlwind Kid,” starring Jimmy Lin. Dong Yanyan had rewatched this film countless times over the past fifteen years. She lounged in her chair, eyes half-closed, swooning over both Xiao Zhi and Xiao Long, while secretly stealing glances at Lin Feng’s silhouette. For the sake of atmosphere, all the classroom lights had been wrapped in colored paper, casting a dim glow—perfect for her quiet observations. Then she noticed Lin Feng walking over to her.

“Yanyan, your performance just now was amazing! How did you do that trick?” Lin Feng took the seat beside her, and the familiar scent of him washed over her, sending her heart pounding wildly.

“I can’t tell you that, or it wouldn’t be any fun! But... we could talk about something else!” she replied with a lazy smile, gazing at him nonchalantly. Tonight, she was truly blessed—with a handsome man for company!

“Oh? What would you like to hear?” Lin Feng smiled.

“I want to hear everything about you!” Dong Yanyan leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, her sparkling eyes blinking, lips pursed in a smile as innocent as could be.

She knew that, in such an intimate setting, this poet’s urge to confide would be particularly strong, and she was happy to play the attentive listener—perhaps she’d learn something about him she’d never known before.

Lin Feng’s home lay on a beautiful prairie, renowned for its natural reserves—grasslands, lakes, and elegant red-crowned cranes, herds of cattle and sheep. Dong Yanyan’s greatest wish back then had been to one day gallop across those grasslands with him, to roam beneath the blue sky and green fields with the one she loved; even now, the thought set her heart aflutter.

“I love the grasslands. I long to know what it feels like to ride a horse across them. I really hope I can visit your hometown someday,” she said, unable to hide her yearning.

“You’re always welcome to visit,” Lin Feng replied with a smile. “When the time comes, I’ll teach you to ride! But you won’t find any yurts—everyone lives in brick houses now, and there are roads.”

“That’s fine, too. Just the idea of herding horses and sheep outside Yanmen Pass with you someday sounds like happiness to me,” Dong Yanyan said softly.

“Herding livestock isn’t as romantic as you imagine—life depends on sun and rain, every day at the mercy of the elements. I went away to study precisely to escape that life. Maybe, from now on, I’ll be struggling in this city,” Lin Feng said with a gentle laugh, his eyes brimming with ambition. Dong Yanyan stared at his smiling face, lost in thought: He had said words like this to her once before, but within two short years, he seemed to have forgotten those dreams and abruptly left school. At that time, she was still immersed in the joy of newfound love, but he’d quietly left her behind. After more than two years of a silent crush, she’d finally gathered the courage to confess, and he had finally accepted her—only for it all to end so sadly. Even now, she didn’t know why. Whenever she recalled it, she could only blame her own foolishness and innocence; she’d been blindly infatuated, never seeing into his true heart.

“Yes, there’s nothing like fighting for your dreams. We must never give up—never,” she murmured, her eyes growing red.

“That’s why I admire you. Few girls are as driven and hardworking as you,” Lin Feng said.

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” Dong Yanyan laughed. “I just don’t want to waste my youth. No matter how we spend it, youth is always a luxury. These four short years may well become our most profound memories for a lifetime, and I don’t want to leave any regrets in them.”

Lin Feng looked at her in surprise, his gaze meeting hers. Dong Yanyan, still lost in her melancholy, suddenly met his eyes and felt her heart miss a beat. Perhaps it was just the mood of the moment, but she thought she glimpsed a trace of tenderness in that deep gaze.

It had been so very long since anyone had made her heart race like this.

“There’s something in your eyes that other girls don’t have. Sometimes they’re innocent and adorable, but more often, they hold a deep sadness, even a touch of world-weariness. Only someone with a story could have eyes like that.” Lin Feng turned to her, his brows slightly knit, watching her intently. The look in his eyes was captivating—like lovers gazing at each other, mingled with a protective curiosity, the way a father might look at a daughter, or the way Jia Baoyu looked at Madame Ximen...

Dong Yanyan couldn’t help but be amused by the sudden, out-of-place thought of Madame Ximen—clearly, reading too many internet jokes was not always a good thing.

“The eyes don’t lie, you know. Sorry, if I just swooned a little over you, I hope you don’t mind?” She decided to relax and laugh at herself, and the tangled sorrow in her heart suddenly dissolved into a clear, tranquil serenity.

Lin Feng was clearly taken aback, but then he smiled, reaching out to ruffle her hair. Dong Yanyan stuck out her tongue playfully, completely at ease. She liked things this way—too much seriousness would only weigh him down.

When “The Whirlwind Kid” finished, Leng Haoyang switched the DVD to a horror film, which made Dong Yanyan a little uneasy. Why did she seem to grow in every way except in courage?

Nineties horror films really were terrifying, weren’t they?!

And the Japanese horror films of the nineties—weren’t they the scariest of all?!

Sadako, ghostly infants, haunted dolls—all things best left unprovoked, weren’t they?!

Scared but still wanting to watch, watching but still scared—who hasn’t felt that way?!

Silently complaining to herself, Dong Yanyan forced a grin and watched as Sadako slowly crawled out of the wall. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder and let out a shriek of terror.