The long and tedious journey across the sea was becoming mundane for Yue Dingtang.

The endless expanse of sea and sky had lost its poetic charm, and he turned to reading books and writing letters instead.

He had brought several books with him, almost half of his two suitcases were filled with them.

One of them was "Romeo and Juliet".

Yue Dingtang picked it up and flipped through a few pages.

He had already read the original text two or three times before, and he hadn't intended to bring it with him on this trip.

He had planned to give the book to someone who was seeing him off, and tell them to study English well so that they wouldn't struggle to even say the alphabet when they met again in a few years.

But he couldn't wait for that person.

So the book ended up at the bottom of his suitcase.

He had many people to write letters to.

His eldest brother, second brother, third sister, and even Uncle Zhou. 

In high school, there were several respected teachers that Yue Dingtang planned to frequently correspond with and seek advice from in the future.

His sister enjoyed eating, drinking, and having fun, and probably had no interest in the monotonous scenery and food along the way.

As for the eldest and second brother, they had even less time to look at these love stories. 

They preferred to see Yue Dingtang's comprehensive observations and descriptions of European politics, economics, and military affairs after he went to France.

But Yue Dingtang had a lot he wanted to write about.

He had grown up in China his whole life, and suddenly he was leaving home and traveling thousands of miles to a distant and unfamiliar country, perhaps for several years or even longer. 

His loved ones, friends, and even his familiar mother tongue were all far away. 

It was absolutely impossible for him to have no anxiety in his heart.

Even the most mature teenager is still just a teenager. The dull scenery is still scenery, and countless chaotic emotions need an outlet. Even the thoughts after reading a book, if there is a like-minded companion by your side to discuss and argue with, even if it leads to a quarrel, it is a lively way to pass the time of loneliness.

Letters were written.

One after another.

Yue Dingtang had a lot to say, and he wrote all of these words on paper.

But the letters were never sent.

After carefully sealing each one, he threw them into the sea.

One after another, until they reached the other side of Europe, he stopped writing letters.

Many years passed, and this past became like buried memories of youth, with greenery growing over the graves.

Suddenly, with a surge of thoughts, the grass and trees burned to ashes, and layer by layer, the soil was dug open, and those letters that were sealed away rushed back into his mind.

Yue Dingtang remembered. 

Every one of those letters was without a salutation. It was as if he was writing to himself, yet also to someone else, ultimately wanting to reach a person who could never receive them. 

Ling Shu. 

He remembered, years later, when he was preparing to return home and packing his belongings, he found a plain white handkerchief in his suitcase. 

He had thought it was the one Du Yunning had left on the snack basket before they parted ways, but now he realized it was the one Ling Shu had used to wipe the blood from his nose after they fell from the tree all those years ago. 

Du Yunning's handkerchief had her nickname embroidered on it, but the one he had carried with him all this time was the one Ling Shu had used to help him when he was bleeding. 

He thought that after he went abroad, Ling Shu and Du Yunning's ending would either be getting married after high school and continuing their education, or they would go to university together. 

They were the perfect match, like a golden boy and jade girl.

Subconsciously, he didn't want to pay attention to these two people anymore. He didn't want to hear any news about their happiness and sweetness.

Even after returning to China, he didn't deliberately inquire about Ling Shu's situation until he heard the name of Shanghai socialite Du Yunning.

The daughter of the Du family married into a high-ranking family, and her husband was a warlord's son. Even if the warlord lost power, they were still extremely wealthy and lived in luxury. But Ling Shu's name was nowhere to be found.

What Yue Dingtang thought was a fairy tale, turned out to have someone leave halfway and become a joke. 

The Ling family fell from grace overnight. 

The Du family regretted the engagement and gave their daughter to someone else. 

Ling Yao hurriedly sent his younger brother abroad, hoping to use the remaining family wealth to secure a good future for him.

These were all plot twists that Yue Dingtang had never heard of in the past eight years.

The once proud young master of the Ling family had fallen so low that he had to rely on his brother-in-law's connection as a low-level clerk to get a job at the police station in the district.

The young man who used to strive for success in everything and was dazzlingly bright had actually fallen into a life of idleness, drunkenness, and debauchery, teasing and playing with dance girls without any ambition.

They were classmates for six years, but separated for eight years. The time apart was much longer than the time they spent together.

Even back then, they were not particularly close. They mostly fought and even got into physical fights.

So much so that eight years later, when he saw the other person again at the Feilengcui dance hall, he felt like he had traveled to a different world. 

After wandering around, the two returned to the starting point, but Ling Shu was no longer the familiar figure in Yue Dingtang's memory.

But what exactly was the familiar appearance, Yue Dingtang couldn't say.

At this moment, all the past events flashed back, memories overlapping with reality, truly becoming one.

The white mountains and dark waters, along with the stars and moons, witnessed Ling Shu's bloodshed here, as well as all his pain and glory.

Let's get to know each other again, Yue Dingtang thought.

"I missed your past, but I want to be a part of your future."

Everything takes time, like a slow-moving stream.

The light above flickered and then went completely dark, the carriage becoming pitch black.

Yue Dingtang lightly touched Ling Shu's shoulder, and he seemed to awaken.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Ling Shu rubbed his eyes and asked groggily. 

Yue Dingtang countered with a question, "Why did you need to turn on the lights to fall asleep before?"

Ling Shu was taken aback, not expecting him to suddenly ask about this.

"I was once seriously injured and there was no one around. I called out to the heavens and the earth, but no one answered. Especially at night, I thought I was going to die there. I will never forget that feeling of waiting for death in the darkness..." His voice was low, but clear to Yue Dingtang's ears.

"I can still sleep without the lights on, but it's just a little difficult to get over it mentally. I can still fall asleep if I want to. I'm actually quite tired now." Ling Shu finished speaking and yawned, starting to feel drowsy again.

Yue Dingtang said, "Sleep, I'm here."

"Mm." Ling Shu naturally closed his eyes and his breathing gradually deepened.

Yue Dingtang finally felt a little sleepy too.

The two slept together. The train made a brief stop at Jinzhou station.

But Old Yuan couldn't fall asleep.

He was craving a cigarette and needed to use the restroom.

Smoking was easy to solve, as the elderly ladies also smoked, which wasn't unusual, but there was no washroom in the third-class carriage.

Taking advantage of the 15-minute break, he hurriedly got off the train, found a secluded corner with no one around, solved his personal problem, and quickly lit a cigarette, racing against time to inhale and exhale smoke.

--

"Mr. Song?"

On the train, in the first-class carriage.

He Ping noticed that the other party was distracted.

They were originally discussing business, and he had already opened the file and read half of it.

But Mr. Song on the other side suddenly became unresponsive.

As the son of a high-ranking official, he couldn't afford to offend him. He Ping felt dissatisfied but had to swallow his pride and ask with concern.

"Mr. Song, are you okay?"

He asked again. 

Mr. Song regained his senses and pointed outside, saying, "Go find that person."