During the first mock exam in her senior year, she scored 700 for the first time.

Standing on the mountaintop, she recalled the moment she had first declared her bold ambition.

Back then, she had always thought that if she could reach that goal, she would have reached her destination.

Now, as she stood here looking down at the rolling, heavy clouds and at the people below climbing upward in groups, she suddenly felt a little lost.

It had taken her nearly two years to finally reach this place.

But now, she didn’t know—where her destination lay.

At the end of June, on the final day returning to school after the college entrance exam, the senior-year building of No.3 High was so lively it could have burst the windows.

Lin Suyan held Tao Zhi’s hand tightly, eyes brimming with tears.

“Taozi! I’m free, right? I’m finally free, aren’t I?”

Tao Zhi patted the back of his hand and said modestly, “No need to call me Dad, calling me Grandpa will do.”

Lin Suyan didn’t argue for the sake of words. He was entirely immersed in joy. “I can call you Ancestor if you like! So, how about it—shall we have a meal tonight? After all, we’ve shared this deep and loyal deskmate bond for a year and a half. In another month, we’ll each be going our own way.”

Tao Zhi sighed. Her phone had been buzzing nonstop in her pocket. She took it out, and the WeChat groups that had been silent for so long suddenly all exploded into life.

Scrolling through the chat list to the bottom, she saw that in the group called Beautiful Girls Alliance, Li Shuangjiang and the others were still chatting occasionally. But one person’s name never appeared anymore.

Although she had transferred to No. 3 High, she hadn’t completely lost contact with those from the Experimental School. It was just that during their senior year, everyone had been so overwhelmed with studying that there was barely time to talk.

Now that the college entrance exams were over, Li Shuangjiang had completely revived and was already organizing a get-together.

He tagged the few close friends from high school—and even specifically tagged Tao Zhi.

Tao Zhi held her phone up to Lin Suyan. “I’ve got plans tonight.”

He glanced at it. “Your friends from the Experimental School?”

“Mm.”

“Alright then,” he nodded. “We’ll meet another time.”

Li Shuangjiang had chosen the same Chinese restaurant as before.

He was indeed a sentimental one—at sixteen and at eighteen, his tastes were the same. By the time Tao Zhi arrived, the whole table was already full. Fu Xiling stood by the door, craning her neck, waiting for her.

It had been months since Tao Zhi last saw Fu Xiling. The girl had grown taller; the baby fat on her face had faded. She threw her arms around Tao Zhi, rubbing her head against her chest, then lifted her head and said earnestly, blinking her eyes, “Zhizhi’s grown up again.”

Tao Zhi reached out and tapped her on the forehead. “Quiet.”

Fu Xiling giggled. “Hehe.”

Just as she was about to say something, Ji Fan came out of the private room and glanced at her. “Why are you so slow?” He grabbed Fu Xiling by the collar. “What are you grinning about? Everyone’s here. Go in and eat.”

Fu Xiling gave an obedient “oh,” then unwillingly clung to Tao Zhi’s hand and pulled her inside.

Li Shuangjiang and Zhao Mingqi were the same as ever—bouncing jokes off each other like a comedy duo. Jiang Zhengxun’s teasing had grown sharper, and Fu Xiling, having not seen Tao Zhi in so long, stuck to her like a piece of sticky rice cake, chattering nonstop.

The boys and girls who had once shared the same classroom were now about to part ways—to new environments, new friends, new worlds of their own. There was both reluctance and excitement in the air, and once they started drinking, they lost all restraint.

Tao Zhi didn’t know how many bottles she’d had—she wasn’t even sure if she was drunk. Leaning back in her chair, she watched Ji Fan and Jiang Zhengxun, arms slung around each other, arguing over who was Ultraman, while Zhao Mingqi clutched Fu Xiling’s hand and wept, “Lingmei, my English homework for the past two years—all thanks to you!”

Amid the noisy laughter, Tao Zhi rose silently and stepped out of the private room.

It was early summer in June—the cicadas were deafening, and the evening breeze carried a gentle warmth. She stood by the doorway with her eyes lowered, then began walking aimlessly ahead.

Not far away was a bus stop. It had been almost two years since the last time she’d taken the bus.

She walked up to the signboard, tracing her finger over the names of every route and stop, one by one.

She had thought her memory had already faded.

She had thought that after all this time, she would have forgotten.

She had spent her last two years of high school happily—made new friends, met good teachers.

Just as he had wished, she walked forward with pride and ease, never once thinking of turning back.

But when she sat on the bright, empty last bus of the night—when she instinctively chose the front single seat by the window, and couldn’t help glancing toward the seats at the back—

when she stood once more on that bustling street, before that narrow, quiet little alley—

Memory came back to her, clear as ever, telling her that she hadn’t forgotten. Not for a single second.

Tao Zhi lowered her eyes and walked into the alley, step by step—passing beneath the blue bike canopy and entering that old residential building.

She didn’t know what she was doing. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe something else. She didn’t care. Reckless and impulsive, she only wanted to follow her heart’s pull.

She stood before that gray anti-theft door and knocked.

After a moment, someone opened it.

A woman opened the door while complaining, “Why are you so slow? I asked you to buy soy sauce, did you go build a soy sauce factory?”

Seeing Tao Zhi, she paused. “Oh? Who are you looking for?”

Tao Zhi lifted her head in confusion, looking at the woman’s unfamiliar face. “Isn’t this… Jiang Qihuai’s place?”

“Oh, Xiao Jiang? He ended his lease—moved out early this year. I’m his landlord. I only just moved back a few days ago.” The woman studied her. “You’re his friend, right?”

Tao Zhi hesitated.

“Just in time,” the woman said briskly. “He and Old Jiang moved in a hurry and left some things behind. I packed them up for him—was planning to give him a call soon. You can still reach him, right?”

Before Tao Zhi could even open her mouth, the woman added, “Wait here a moment.”

She turned back into the house and soon came out carrying a small cardboard box.

“Here,” the woman said, extending her hands. “It’s not heavy—just some photos and such. I gathered them all up for him. I don’t know where he’s living now, so if it’s convenient, you can pass them to him.”

Under the haze of alcohol, Tao Zhi felt like her mind was a beat too slow. By the time she came to her senses, the box was already in her hands.

She lowered her head. “How did you know I’m his friend?”

“Well, of course,” the woman smiled and tapped the box lightly. “Because you’re in the photos.”

The door closed. Tao Zhi stood at the doorway, holding the box, dazed.

The evening breeze drifted in through the worn wooden windows, sweeping down the corridor. Tao Zhi walked slowly to the stairwell and sat on the dirty steps.

The box rested on her knees—so light, yet it felt unbearably heavy.

She pressed her lips together, lifted her hand, and carefully peeled open the lid, flap by flap.

Inside were many, many photographs.

Once, they had been neatly arranged on the walls of his bedroom. Now they lay scattered together, resting quietly inside the paper box.

Tao Zhi picked them up one by one—the cat at the street corner, the mottled walls, the broken puzzle pieces.

For the first time, she looked at them this closely. In the dim light, she saw the small handwritten words in the corners.

The handwriting at the beginning was somewhat childish, uneven, and crooked:

——First gift.

——Always sneaks bites of my fish sausage.

——The wall at home.

Tao Zhi looked through those secrets she had once longed for but never dared to touch. Fragments of Jiang Qihuai’s childhood—those strange and unfamiliar moments—unfolded before her eyes like scenes from a film.

The last photo was taken on the Ferris wheel. Beneath the fireworks, the sky was lit up by bursts of bright flame, illuminating a vast, deep violet expanse.

The day she first saw that photo was the day she realized—she might like Jiang Qihuai.

Impulsively, she had run to the convenience store to secretly look for him, only to get caught red-handed.

She had followed him home, timidly, and then discovered that on his photo wall, he hadn’t chosen that photo with her in it.

Tao Zhi stared at the photo now, for the first time looking at it carefully—earnestly, in every detail.

She remembered that Fu Xiling had taken many shots that day. This one wasn’t even good—the angle and distance were off. The fireworks occupied only a small corner of the frame, while the Ferris wheel cabin filled most of it.

The main focus was the back of her head. The cabin was brightly lit, and the glass window reflected the others inside, faintly, like a backdrop.

There was Li Shuangjiang laughing, Zhao Mingqi tilting his head, Fu Xiling holding up her phone.

And then—she saw herself.

She had been sitting by the window. From this angle, her face in the glass filled almost half the frame.

The girl’s features were both hazy and distinct; her eyes wide open in wonder as she gazed outside, the corners of her eyes lifted slightly, the corners of her lips curved in a small smile.

Tao Zhi’s eyelashes trembled. The fingertips holding the photo turned pale from the pressure.

Her gaze drifted downward.

In the darker part of the photo—right beside her hand reflected in the window—there were small, dark letters written in pen:

——Sun.