"Next stop. Beijing South Railway Station. Passengers preparing to disembark, please gather your belongings."
The announcement rippled through the train, calm and formal, cutting gently through the low hum of conversation.
Chen Yue lifted her head i excitement. Her heart moved before her feet followed.
Outside the window, the platform was already coming into view with the slow choreography of people moving in practiced lines. The train began to slow, its rhythm shifting, metal breathing as it prepared to stop.
She quickly reached for her bags and pulled them closer. Her scarf slipped slightly as she moved and she adjusted it again out of habit.
When the doors slid open, autumn entered first. Cool air rushed in, laced with the scent of metal, dust, and distant roasted chestnuts from the station vendors.
She could hear voices rose, overlapped with announcements, footsteps, rolling luggage, and reunions happening in fragments of sound and motion. Life always moved quickly here.
Tentatively, Chen Yue stepped onto the platform with her bags and luggage. The station ceiling arched high above her as light filtered through glass panels, scattering across the tiled floor.
She straightened, then, in a burst of quiet excitement she didn't bother to hide, took a deep, dramatic inhale, as if she could breathe the city back into her lungs all at once.
"I'm back," she murmured, already imagining her reunion with her roomates — if they are back already. Usually, she was always the first one to arrive at their dorm.
Chen Yue grasped the handle of her luggage, determined to walk out of the station when someone bumped into her shoulder.
It wasn't hard enough to make her stumble, but it was so sudden that it startled her. Her grip tightened around her bag as she turned instinctively, words already forming on her lips.
"I'm sorry—" But the apology didn't finish.
The person who had bumped into her already paused, tall and lean, dressed simply in a grey hoodie and jeans as though he had stepped straight out of an ordinary afternoon.
One hand rested casually in his pocket. With the other, he reached up and pulled an AirPod from his ear almost absentmindedly.
He glanced at her briefly.
His features were clean and sharp, the kind that didn't demand attention but claimed it anyway. Straight nose, calm eyes, lashes casting faint shadows beneath the station lights under his glasses.
There was a quiet composure about him, something effortless and clean, as though the noise of the world never quite reached him.
"Sorry," he said.
He dipped his head slightly in a polite bow, already slipping the AirPod back into place before she could respond.
Without another look, he continued forward, melting seamlessly into the flow of people moving down the platform.
Any normal people would have said "It's fine," or to be a bit aggressive, "Please watch where you're going next time", but Chen Yue stood there frozen in place.
Her heartbeat stuttered, then rushed wildly as if it had only just realized what had happened.
Was that…?
Thump.
What… a coincidence?
"Han Zixuan."
The name surfaced in her mind with painful clarity.
There were faces you could forget after a glance, and then there were faces you learned by heart without ever meaning to. And she has already memorized everything about him. The slope of his shoulders, the way he moved unhurriedly and detachedly as though the world simply made space for him.
Even from behind, even in the briefest moment, she would never mistake him for anyone else. Because two years was more than enough time to memorize a person.
She knew the line of his jaw as well as she knew the pages of her sketchbook. Knew the way his presence seemed to quiet everything around him and the way her gaze always found him before her thoughts could catch up.
She glanced down at the sketchbook in her hand, the edges denting a bit from how firm her grip had been.
Oh, she even had a dedicated sketchbook for him!
If it had been anyone else, her heart wouldn't have reacted so violently. If it hadn't been him, she wouldn't still be standing here, fingers curled tightly around her book as if grounding herself.
Hell, coincidences didn't make your chest ache like this.
So does this mean… it's fate?
Ack!
Her heart couldn't take it!
Chen Yue swallowed, eyes following the direction he had gone, watching his figure disappear into the crowd as easily as he had entered her life from the first year.
So they have been inside the same train for three hours?
She pressed a hand lightly over her chest, laughing softly at herself in disbelief.
Of all the people in Beijing, of all the moments, why did it have to be him? And why did it still feel the same?
Realising she might have wasted time, Chen Yue adjusted the strap of her bag once again and finally began walking, carried forward by the steady current of people streaming off the platform with light heart until she reached outside.
The station opened up before her as she slowed without realizing. Her gaze drifted instinctively through the crowd, searching not urgently nor consciously, but with the quiet hope of someone who didn't quite believe that moment was already over.
She scanned familiar silhouettes: tall figures in hoodies, dark hair, hands in pockets. But there was no sight of Han Zixuan anymore.
She pulled out her phone, thumb hovering over the screen as she opened a ride-hailing app. The signal lagged briefly, the loading icon spinning, giving her just enough time to look up again.
Still nothing.
It felt absurd, like waking from a dream too quickly, reaching out only to grasp empty air. Just minutes ago, he had been there. Close enough for her to hear his voice, to see the way he bowed slightly as though he hadn't unknowingly walked straight through two years of her heart.
Chen Yue exhaled, smiling giddily to herself.
"It's fine," she murmured.
Beijing was big, but campus was small. Paths crossed naturally there, like between buildings, under trees, in studios flooded with afternoon light.
If fate had already placed them on the same train for three hours, surely meeting again wasn't too much to ask.
Right?
Her phone vibrated and a pop up notification told her that a driver had accepted the order. But that didn't stop her from taking one final glance around.
Eventually, Chen Yue dragged her luggage, stepping forward with renewed ease. Autumn followed her through the station just like her optimism.
She would see Han Zixuan again.
And when that next time comes, she told herself gently, that she would be ready!