Many people spend their entire lives searching for the meaning of happiness. Li Shanqing was born with most of it already, so what he was searching for was the secret to preventing its premature loss.
In Fancheng, he found part of it.
First was health. After arriving in Fancheng, compared to before, Li Shanqing’s physical condition stabilized significantly. He only had minor ailments, and though he had to visit the hospital urgently at times, he no longer needed long stays—a progress that surprised and delighted him.
Next was academics. He adapted well at school, successfully received an admission offer from his desired university before his birthday after submitting an early application, connected with a professor he was most interested in, secured a spot in a summer program, and joined a freshman community, making many new friends. Everything went so smoothly!
His parents video-called him regularly every day and visited every one or two months, while his aunt lived nearby in the same neighborhood, just two streets away. She had two daughters, one thirteen and one eight, both adorable and smart, who loved playing with Li Shanqing. They often brought their own lunchboxes to join him for dinner. Not only did his parents’ care remain undiminished, but he also gained more love from relatives, making it hard for him to feel even a second of loneliness.
Even more gratifying, in early March, Li Shanqing got his driver’s license, making outings much more convenient. Without needing his aunt’s help, he could drive Mary to the supermarket weekly for groceries and take her to nearby beaches for fun.
The weather here was pleasant, except for the bothersome spring pollen, making it seem like a truly perfect, fortunate place for him. In the more than half a year since moving, Li Shanqing lived each day fully and effortlessly, certain he hadn’t come to the wrong place. Only one thing occasionally dissatisfied him: a certain someone who, despite several opportunities to meet, never came to see him.
In Li Shanqing’s one-sided efforts and persistence, they still kept in touch, but this person was either too busy or simply didn’t prioritize Li Shanqing. He never changed his decisions, saying he wouldn’t meet or didn’t have time, and no amount of pleading from Li Shanqing worked.
For example, during the week of Li Shanqing’s eighteenth birthday, this person happened to be negotiating with a medical equipment company. Though not in Fancheng, the drive was at most six hours, a physically close distance, and even shorter by plane, as it would start descending soon after takeoff.
Yet he didn’t come, merely said “Happy Birthday” and went off to work.
Li Shanqing had planned to pester him further, but while hosting a party with classmates at home, he accidentally consumed an allergen, leading to a chaotic outcome that alarmed everyone. Though he later recounted it as a joke, the situation was quite critical at the time. By the time he woke up in the hospital, his birthday had passed, and Zhuang Xu was on a flight back to Bingang.
A week later was Zhuang Xu’s birthday, which also annoyed Li Shanqing.
As usual, Zhuang Xu claimed he wasn’t celebrating. Li Shanqing ordered a beautiful delivery cake sent to his home. Zhuang Xu said he’d be working late at the company, giving no positive reaction. Fortunately, Zhuang Xu’s mother, Ms. Xu, messaged Li Shanqing, praising his thoughtfulness, asking about his health and adjustment, and sending a photo of newly trimmed rose-shaped shrubs from her recent checkup at Yiying Hospital’s small garden.
Waking up in the morning, Li Shanqing saw a message from Zhuang Xu at 4 a.m., flatly stating, “Saw the cake. Thanks.”
Li Shanqing, still groggy, didn’t feel like typing and sent a voice message asking if he had a photo of it. Though Zhuang Xu replied quickly, he said, “Didn’t take one.”
These cold responses dropped Zhuang Xu’s score in Li Shanqing’s book to negative three hundred thousand nine hundred eighty-three points.
Zhuang Xu wouldn’t even take Li Shanqing’s video calls, making Li Shanqing so curious about his appearance that he once dreamed of Zhuang Xu as a burly giant and a tanned, shirtless surfer on the beach.
Li Shanqing thought Zhuang Xu’s flaw was that, while not entirely rejecting contact, he didn’t fully commit either. He occasionally replied to texts or answered calls, as if stringing Li Shanqing along.
This hot-and-cold, up-and-down dynamic was like a mobile game connecting Bingang and Fancheng, easing Li Shanqing’s occasional homesickness.
Ultimately, it became the favorite challenge for the competitive yet frail Li Shanqing in his spare time, and it definitely wasn’t just his issue.
In June, Li Shanqing graduated high school. With the summer program yet to start, he suddenly had a few weeks of idle time at home.
Unlike his classmates who could go on graduation trips, he couldn’t handle sun or fatigue, so he spent days chatting with like-minded friends from the school’s entrepreneurial community, immersing himself in designing a new project, and sending emails to relevant people out of boredom, receiving a few interested replies.
One morning in mid-June, Li Shanqing turned on the TV and saw news that SyncPulse had passed efficacy tests and would begin its third phase of clinical trials in the fall.
The news anchor used grandiose terms to introduce the sustained-release technology, with experts claiming SyncPulse would be one of modern medicine’s most significant inventions, potentially eliminating pain from the lives of many chronic disease patients.
Though Li Shanqing continued to pester Zhuang Xu, for his emotional health, he had deliberately avoided Weiyuan Biotech news for nearly a year.
Now, a subtle jealousy surfaced, along with a much calmer reluctance compared to when he first learned he didn’t meet the implant criteria.
After all, his health was now at its peak since birth, and the need for an implant to improve his condition was no longer so urgent. But fully letting go was impossible.
He messaged Zhuang Xu to congratulate him. It was evening there, and perhaps Zhuang Xu had just finished work, as he replied soon with another “Thanks.”
The news then aired a video clip of Zhuang Xu discussing SyncPulse’s test results. Seeing Zhuang Xu’s face, Li Shanqing froze for some reason.
The sun was out, and light seeped through the living room blinds, brightening the entire room.
Mary was making breakfast, the clatter of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. The sixty-inch TV had a small patch of glare in the upper-right corner. Li Shanqing usually thought the TV was too small, believing eighty inches would be more comfortable and often considered upgrading. This was the only day he felt it was too big, as the camera zoomed in on Zhuang Xu too closely, too clearly, making him realize he hadn’t seen this person in a year, and Zhuang Xu was completely different from his memory.
The overly youthful appearance from a year ago was entirely overshadowed by a sudden maturity and unexpected success. Zhuang Xu spoke simply into the microphone, yet he exuded far more stability than Li Shanqing remembered. It was as if, in an instant, no one would dare underestimate him because of his age.
Li Shanqing stared unblinkingly at the screen, his body inexplicably wanting to lean back, seeking something to rely on. He suddenly had a clear realization: if he were meeting Zhuang Xu now for the first time, he’d never have gotten into his car or cornered him anywhere.
Fortunately, they met earlier, Li Shanqing thought immediately.
He didn’t even catch what Zhuang Xu said, as the interview clip ended quickly.
Li Shanqing zoned out for a moment.
If it were years later, after Li Shanqing had grown older, met more people, and started building his own team, he wouldn’t be so childish. But he was still a freshly graduated high schooler, so he quickly got upset. His thoughts were simple, direct, and entirely self-centered—shocked, angry, and deeply indignant. He likened it to his favorite game secretly updating to a new version elsewhere without updating for him or letting him play.
Not knowing was one thing, but now that he knew, he wanted to play the latest version, no matter what it took.
Fuming, Li Shanqing objectified someone who ignored him, hurling harsh words in his mind. Sitting on the sofa, he thought for a long time but, unusually, couldn’t come up with a single plan. He had no choice but to call Zhuang Xu.
The first call wasn’t answered. He called again, and Zhuang Xu picked up, saying, “What’s up? I’m about to rest.” His voice was icy.
Li Shanqing said, “Zhuang Xu, I just saw your interview on TV… I realized I really miss you.” He heard the sadness in his voice, not feigned, and felt for the first time that when Mary packed his four suitcases with so many things, it wasn’t enough. Something he wanted to take but couldn’t was left in Bingang.
Maybe Zhuang Xu wasn’t just an ordinary friend, because back then, he was actually kind to Li Shanqing, like a mother. Such a relationship shouldn’t go so long without meeting.
“When are you coming to hang out with me?” he asked, ignoring Zhuang Xu’s silence.
Zhuang Xu was quiet for a long time before saying, “I might be near Fancheng next week. If I have time, I can come by.”
“You better come,” Li Shanqing said reluctantly, recalling their outing. “I’ll really be waiting. You know I told you I’m home every day lately.”
Zhuang Xu gave a soft “Mm” on the other end and said, “If there’s nothing else, I’m going to sleep.”
After hanging up, Li Shanqing was in a melancholic mood all day.
He also thought about how he’d only grown one centimeter in the past year and lost two pounds recently due to irregular sleep, though he was, as always, good-looking but lacked a mature masculine charm. This made it hard to have a meeting where Zhuang Xu would be impressed by his growth and achievements in Fancheng.
He forgot about it only during a video call with his parents. But after the call, he started mulling again, going to his wardrobe to pick out clothes for a long time.
A suit was too formal and seemed forced, while a casual T-shirt was too childish. He finally chose a hoodie with his university’s logo, hoping Zhuang Xu would sense the subtle difference and feel Li Shanqing’s newfound maturity compared to high school.
Like an ordinary person he’d never been—Li Shanqing realized much later—he was unconsciously searching for another meaning of happiness.
