Lou Yixuan never imagined that after eight years apart, Lin Huayan… had white hair.
Not just one or two strands, but so many she couldn’t even count them.
Especially from the top-down view, those white hairs—nurtured by either the passage of time or relentless stress—were impossible to hide.
It was only in that moment that she suddenly realized her eight years and Lin Huayan’s eight years meant something entirely different.
“Teacher Lin, your hair is so black and straight, and it feels incredibly smooth to the touch. How do you take care of it? Mine feels like it’s been permed and dyed compared to yours.”
“I haven’t done much maintenance. It’s probably… genetic.”
“Genetic? That’s great then.”
“Is it?”
“Isn’t it? No hassle, and you get thick, lush black hair. I want that too, but my family doesn’t have those genes. My parents have average hair volume and quality, and I just hope my dad doesn’t go bald when he gets older. If he does, I’ll be the one even more worried and anxious than him.”
“Your hair is soft and fine—feels nicer than mine when you touch it. Just focus on eating well for nourishment.”
“Nourishment through food? Like eating black beans or black sesame pills?”
“Balance it with protein and vitamins too. No being picky with food, got it?”
“Then… Teacher Lin, can I come over to your place for meals every weekend this semester? I’ll buy the groceries, wash the dishes. Whatever you want me to buy, I’ll get it. I love all your cooking anyway. There’s only one semester of high school left—after graduation, I won’t get to eat it anymore.”
“As long as it fits your schedule, sure.”
Senior year of high school was the happiest, most blissful year of Lou Yixuan’s 25 years of life.
In those eight years away from her homeland, she’d visited many countries, seen countless beautiful sights, and tasted all sorts of delicacies. But the most stunning scenery and the most delicious feasts could only be provided by Lin Huayan.
Yet Lin Huayan no longer wanted to give them to her. She hadn’t wanted to for eight years now.
So the Lin Huayan in her memories remained at her peak, radiant and vibrant at 29.
With ink-black, waterfall-like long hair and a face that captivated the soul.
Even amid swirling rumors, she still applied exquisite makeup and wore impeccable clothes. Every day she entered the school impeccably groomed, and every time she stepped onto the podium, she shone with vitality.
But today’s Lin Huayan—the barefaced version—looked so weary, so exhausted, so world-worn.
How did she end up like this?
Hearing her best friend inexplicably ask if her wife had white hair, Lu Lingxuan frowned.
“Hey, my wife is only two months older than your Teacher Lin. What white hair?”
Then something suddenly occurred to her. She glanced at Lou Yixuan on her right, incredulous. “Wait, no way… that’s not…”
“Yeah.”
The atmosphere in the car turned melancholic in an instant.
Lu Lingxuan bumped up the AC temperature a bit, mentally combing through her brief encounter with Lin Huayan last time for any relevant clues.
She hoped Lin Huayan’s “white hair” had nothing to do with illness.
“Teachers have endless worries all day long. A few white hairs are totally normal.”
She said it was normal, but privately decided she’d thoroughly check her wife’s hair that evening.
“My mom has white hair too. She’s tried tons of remedies with her best friend for hair care. I hear there are specialized hair nourishment salons that treat the scalp and follicles to turn white hair black. Want me to ask her?”
“Later. Don’t ask yet.”
Lou Yixuan stopped her.
Even if there was an effective secret formula, what right or position did she have to share it with Lin Huayan?
“Aren’t you and Ya Ning-jie considering Australia for your honeymoon?”
Lou Yixuan turned to look at Lu Lingxuan, changing the subject. “The climate there is pleasant, the natural scenery is gorgeous, your godparents are there, and I have plenty of friends too. If you go, they’ll handle your food, lodging, and travel.”
“Pfft, don’t think I don’t see through your little scheme. You just want us to flaunt our love in front of your parents, so they can get used to the idea sooner and accept you and whoever-that-is faster, right? You’ve evolved from a little white flower to a little black flower, full of bad ideas!”
Lou Yixuan laughed. “You’re wasting my sincere heart…”
“Stop! I don’t wanna hear it.”
Lu Lingxuan rolled her eyes at her. “You heartless person—where would you even get a sincere heart? Find your conscience first, okay?”
“Okay.”
…
After evening self-study, Lin Huayan dragged her unusually fatigued body back to her school dormitory.
She kicked off her high heels at the door, padded barefoot inside, too exhausted to even change clothes. She simply removed her glasses and collapsed onto the bed.
But no matter how tired or drained she felt, she only allowed herself a few minutes of slack.
Once those minutes passed, Lin Huayan straightened her back.
She sat rigidly for a few more minutes until her eyes adjusted to the darkness, then got up to turn on the light by the door.
She’d lived in this narrow single dorm for eight years. Everything in the room except the bed had been replaced or added piece by piece over those years.
It hadn’t seemed so bad before, but now, in this moment, everything about the cramped space felt wrong.
Compared to the room she’d lived in eight years ago—the one directly across from Lou Yixuan’s—it was worlds apart.
Lin Huayan opened the wardrobe, pulled out a drawer, then quickly shut it again.
She turned, standing before the full-length mirror fixed to the wardrobe door, and unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time until her skin was exposed in the reflection.
Deprived of sunlight for years, the skin beneath her clothes was a sickly pale white. It was very fair, but lifeless, lacking any delicate smoothness.
Through the mirror, she examined herself—and that other her.
The girl was still the girl from her memories: graceful figure and features, gentle and serene, warm and alluring, with hints of liveliness and charm in every gesture.
But what about her?
What about herself?
Nearing forty, she’d developed a little belly pooch from lack of exercise, her skin had dulled without care, losing its glow, and from years of wearing glasses, there were distinct indentations on her nose bridge and temples.
She looked hideous.
Utterly awful.
If eight years ago, she and Lou Yixuan had been a clash of youth and maturity, then now they were a clash of spring and autumn.
Lou Yixuan was spring in full, vibrant bloom.
She was autumn, fading into gloom.
They belonged to different colors, different seasons.
In the cycle of the four seasons, the spring and autumn that could never overlap.
The nickname the previous batch of students gave her—”Lin Menopause”—she’d heard it countless times but never once lost her temper over it.
After more than a decade of teaching, few student words or actions could truly anger her anymore.
But she had to put on the stern front.
If “Lin Menopause” made the restless kids in her class and grade group quake in fear, she’d gladly own it without feeling offended.
But if Lou Yixuan heard it at school someday in the future, what would she think of her?
Her phone on the bed rang.
Lin Huayan grabbed a seldom-worn nightgown from the wardrobe, closed the door, and went to answer.
It was one of her few close friends—Qin Fengru.
“Hey, Lin the workaholic, you finally done for the day?”
“Back at the dorm.”
“I just finished yoga and got home. So, what was that message about sending you my fitness plan? Trying to supervise me?”
“Keep you company.”
“What? Keep me company?! Did I hear that right, Lin Huayan? What massive shock did you get hit with?”
“You’re getting married—I have to go. Didn’t you want me to dress more formally?”
“…Yeah. Thank goodness, you’ve finally come around.”
Qin Fengru’s wedding was set for December at year’s end—her second marriage. The groom was seven years younger, his first.
Widowed for years with no kids, she was still throwing a grand wedding without fear of gossip.
To look good in her gown and not embarrass middle-aged women, she’d resolved to fitness from September to November, aiming to slim down below 110 jin at least.
Losing 15 jin in 100 days was tough at her age.
When drawing up the plan, she’d tried convincing Lin Huayan to join her, figuring mutual encouragement would boost motivation and results.
But Lin Huayan wouldn’t bite.
Impervious to persuasion.
No matter how much she nagged, it fell on deaf ears.
Lin Huayan was tall—169 cm bare height—and even without exercise, she didn’t gain weight easily.
So she’d given up pushing; after all, Lin was under 110 jin—what was there to lose?
Shocked but not foolish enough to mock Lin Huayan’s sudden change, Qin Fengru pressed further. “Since you’re willing to gym with me, how about we book a time to get our hair done first?”
“Get our hair done?”
“Yeah. Or dye yours? Tea brown or cool brown is trending this year—it’d look killer on you. Twenty-plus years of friendship, and I’ve never seen you touch your hair. Give it a try?”
“…” Lin Huayan fell silent, her mind flashing to the stunning Lou Yixuan and her eye-catching hair color.
“I’ll just say it straight: the white hairs on top of your head have been springing up like bamboo shoots after rain these past few years. You can’t see them, out of sight out of mind, so you ignore it. But I can see them, and it drives me crazy with worry.”
“…” So that was it.
That afternoon in the stairwell, when Lou Yixuan suddenly called out to her, it must’ve been because she spotted the white hair on her head.
Long silence on the line left Qin Fengru holding her breath anxiously.
Finally: “Ahem, Huayan, harsh truths are hard to hear, but you…”
“Let’s try it.”
…
After two days of classes, Thursday—September 4th—dawn saw nine buses loaded with the new high school freshmen departing en masse from Tianmu Middle School to the Military Training Base in the suburban mountains.
Homeroom teachers accompanied each class.
Most schools now did training on campus, but Tianmu insisted on sending students to the mountains.
The buses proceeded orderly along the winding but smooth roads, verdant forests lining the windows. Summer heat rolled through the treetops, broken now and then by a mountain breeze bringing cool relief.
Wildflowers of every shape and hue bloomed along the roadside.
In open stretches, they overlooked valley streams sparkling under sunlight, a breathtaking sight.
As elevation climbed, the air grew fresher, the temperature cooler.
Energetic students buzzed with excitement the whole way—”escaping” dull classrooms, how could they not be thrilled?
Lin Huayan sat arms crossed in the first row, eyes closed in rest.
Her phone on the adjacent seat lit up, vibrating to rouse her.
An unknown number.
She let it ring until it was about to auto-hang up before picking up, her tone flat: “Hello?”
“Teacher Lin?”
Those three words alone made Lin Huayan’s heart clench.
Her free right hand balled into a fist against her left elbow, steadying the phone lest she drop it in a daze.
“Yeah.”
“Are you free to talk now?”
“Go ahead.”
“Here’s the thing: I know the first-years are heading to military training today. I’d like to go along with Class 9’s kids. On one hand, it’s a chance to bond, build rapport for better art class teaching. On the other, I can scout the scenery up there—maybe apply later to bring them for plein air sketching.”
Lou Yixuan’s excuse was perfectly reasonable, entirely student-focused, without a single flaw.
Yet Lin Huayan zoned out.
“Teacher Lin, you free this Sunday?”
“Nothing planned so far. Why?”
“Wanna go hiking? Online says the maples at Xiaoniu Peak are turning red—supposed to be gorgeous. I checked: round-trip trail is 13 km, about 3-4 hours. We don’t have to do the whole thing—go as far as we feel like, relax, take in the views, shake off senior-year stress. If we get tired, we can sit somewhere quiet. I can sketch too. Next month is the unified exam, then school exams, then cramming culture classes—I might not even have time to sleep.”
“Sure. Sunday morning, early start. Pack simple lunches, eat on the mountain at noon, head back early afternoon.”
“Thanks, Teacher Lin. You’re the best.”
The Military Training Base wasn’t at Xiaoniu Peak, but the mountains were adjacent.
Yet no matter how close, Lin Huayan had never “dropped by” or made a special trip to see those red maples again.
Some sights were beautiful enough after one glimpse in a lifetime.
She couldn’t ask for more.
“Teacher Lin, are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“Teacher Liu said you’re the grade director, and I need your approval before I…”
“Okay.”
