Respostas Entre Pequim e Hong Kong

All of Chu Tong’s understanding of men came from Shao Yihuai.

——“Night Pears Like Smoke,” by Erchuanchuan, November 2023

That year, winter arrived suddenly in the capital.

After an autumn rain, nighttime temperatures plunged below zero.

Saturday evening.

The wind howled down the streets, lifting the yellowed plane leaves along the sidewalks. Chu Tong wrapped her coat tighter around herself, arms folded, head bowed against the gusts. Her long, dark hair was whipped into disarray, strands plastered across her eyes, and she brushed them back behind her ear with a free hand.

It was just such a simple, unthinking gesture that drew the attention of a passerby who had just walked past her. Even with the lower half of her face hidden by a scarf, her fleeting beauty was enough to shock—bold, defined features, her eyes blurred at the corners by the wind.

Chu Tong hurried back to her dormitory. As she entered, the warmth inside pressed against her frozen ears. She took off her scarf and gloves, setting them on her desk.

It was a typical four-person dorm: desks below, bunks above.

The other three roommates were sprawled on their upper bunks, scrolling through their phones. When they heard the door, they glanced over but said nothing.

Chu Tong hung up her coat in the wardrobe, glanced around, pressed her lips together, and hesitantly asked, “...Have you all had dinner?”

Her voice was clear and gentle, soft but never cloying—perfect for a poetry recitation contest. In her freshman year, when several universities in the