Under Clear Skies Chapter 98: Lingbo Gate

Chapter 98: Lingbo Gate

Translated by KarateChopMonkey of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

 

Six years had passed, and it seemed that Hanyang University hadn’t changed much. Indeed, for a century-old institution, six years couldn’t be considered a particularly long time.

The Lingbo Gate had undergone renovations, with Tang Heng and Li Yuechi mingling among the students. As they stepped out of the Lingbo Gate, they were greeted by the rippling waters of the lake. A wooden bridge extended from the shore into the lake, forming a narrow “回” shape, with many students and tourists standing on the bridge taking pictures.

The weather was exceptionally good. Beneath the clear blue sky, devoid even of a single cloud, lay the vast Donghu Lake. The water appeared slightly deeper blue than the sky, resembling the sea to some extent.

Several girls dressed in Hanfu stood side by side on the bridge, while a boy raised a camera to take their picture.

Next to them, a couple sat on the ground, the girl swinging her legs in the air.

Tang Heng sighed with emotion, “It’s become so lively here.”

Li Yuechi added, “It seems like there weren’t many students coming here before.”

“Yeah, I heard rumors during my undergraduate days that this place was haunted. The counselor warned us not to wander around the lake.”

“Haunted?” Li Yuechi asked curiously, “How so?”

“It was said that some students couldn’t bear it and jumped into the lake…” Tang Heng recalled the rumors he had heard, “Later, at night, someone passing by saw a figure standing by the lake, motionless.”

“…”

“But back then, there were hardly any streetlights here, so it really had a spooky atmosphere.”

“Tang Heng.”

“Yeah?”

Li Yuechi pursed her lips and said softly, “That person who bumped into a ghost, what he saw couldn’t have been the two of us, right?”

Tang Heng was stunned for a few seconds, then suddenly burst out laughing. Indeed, back then, he and Li Yuechi had frequented this place for dates, especially at night, seeking peace and solitude without worrying about anyone seeing them.

If it happened to be a night of rain, it was even better—they could hold a large umbrella, completely covering them, as if the world had shrunk to just accommodate the two of them.

Lost in thought, Tang Heng suddenly heard an exclamation, “Hey!”

Turning towards the sound, he saw that the phone of the boy taking photos had fallen out, a white iPhone perilously close to the edge of the bridge. If it had been a few centimeters more, it would have fallen into the lake.

One of the girls with a silver hairpin picked up the phone, complaining affectionately, “I told you not to put the phone in your pocket, see… you scared me.”

The boy chuckled, “Well, it’s a good excuse to get a new phone.”

The girl adjusted her Hanfu skirt and repositioned herself. The boy took several shots of her, then they picked up their bags and headed towards the corner of the bridge ahead to take the next set of photos.

Li Yuechi nudged Tang Heng’s arm, “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m fine,” Tang Heng said, feeling embarrassed to admit that he had felt weak in the knees just a moment ago.

That tiny white iPhone looked remarkably similar to a certain model of Samsung he had once owned, even the sound it made when it hit the ground was so alike. The only difference was that his Samsung hadn’t been so lucky. In the darkness of the night, the Yangtze River flowed darkly towards the endless distance, and he wondered where his phone might have drifted to, or sunk.

Suddenly, Tang Heng remembered something.

He looked at Li Yuechi and asked hesitantly, “Where did you find those photos of Tian Xiaoqin?”

But as soon as he asked that question, Tang Heng regretted it. Perhaps Li Yuechi had stored those photos six years ago? It would only take a USB flash drive, after all, those photos were too important. As for the phone—would Li Yuechi keep an old phone from six years ago? In other words, after six years, could that phone even still turn on?

“The photos were on my phone.”

“…Which phone?”

“The one you gave me, don’t you remember?” Li Yuechi said calmly, “The Nokia you used.”

Right, Nokia. Who could have imagined that six years later, the once-dominant mobile phone brand would have disappeared from the market?

Tang Heng’s throat moved slightly, “You still have it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Li Yuechi said softly, “That phone was left in the store in the county, so you didn’t find it last time.”

“…”

It seemed like everything was clear to Li Yuechi as he slightly lowered her head and asked, “What else do you want to ask?”

“Well, what about the messages I sent you…”

“They’re all there.”

“Really?”

“I’ll show you when we return to Guizhou.”

“Oh,” Tang Heng felt a bit dazed, “Alright.”

“Why were you nervous just now?”

“I wasn’t nervous.”

“Scared I’d throw the phone into the river?”

“Li Yuechi—”

“Don’t worry,” Li Yuechi suddenly raised her hand, gently hooking Tang Heng’s shoulder, “Just say whatever you want to say.”

Tang Heng remained silent for two seconds before saying softly, “Please don’t blame me.”

Li Yuechi replied, “I don’t blame you.”

“I lost my phone… the one with the messages you sent me, the white Samsung.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Tang Heng took a deep breath, as if seeing again the dark, murmuring river before his eyes, “One night, I was crossing the Yangtze River Bridge… I was holding onto my phone, but for some reason, it slipped out of my hand and fell.”

You know, the Yangtze River Bridge is very high.

So can you imagine, Li Yuechi? That phone first hit the grayish ground with a dull thud, then it bounced a little—a small bounce, not even an arc, just straight down into the Yangtze River.

The Yangtze River Bridge was so high that after it fell, you couldn’t even hear the sound of it hitting the water.

If it were a small artificial lake, no, even if it were a flowing stream, Tang Heng would have been able to retrieve it.

But that was the Yangtze River.

To this day, Tang Heng couldn’t recall his emotions at that time, whether it was anxiety, restlessness, or agony. He truly couldn’t remember. All he remembered was staring blankly at the surface of the river, with a vague premonition that a part of his body, a part of his memory, had somehow remained in Wuhan in this way.

At that time, he had already decided to study abroad in the UK, and of course, he had also decided to leave this city.

But this rough and chaotic city seemed reluctant to let him go, using this frantic way to retain him.

“I really didn’t mean to. Later, I thought maybe it was because I put a soft silicone case on it—so it bounced when it hit the ground, and if it hadn’t bounced, it wouldn’t have fallen. If I had used a plastic case, maybe it wouldn’t have bounced?”

Li Yuechi’s expression briefly turned blank.

Then he quickly grasped Tang Heng’s hand.

“I know you didn’t mean to,” he said softly, “It’s gone, but we can make up for it in the future.”

“How?”

“By sending you new ones.”

Li Yuechi took out his phone, then suddenly approached the boy among the young couple and said, “Classmate, could you take a photo for us?”

“Sure,” the boy was very enthusiastic, “You two come over here, it’s the best spot.”

So Li Yuechi and Tang Heng stood at the end of the bridge. Tang Heng wanted to hold Li Yuechi’s hand, but felt a bit embarrassed in front of the younger students. In the end, they just stood shoulder to shoulder, but with their arms and hands close together, there was still an indescribable intimacy.

Li Yuechi took the phone, thanked the boy, and then said, “Let’s go, the boss’s beef noodles should be ready.”

As they returned to the hotel during rush hour, the subway was packed, and they were separated, each standing at one end of the car window. Tang Heng took out his phone, intending to send a WeChat message to Jiang Ya, telling him not to have dinner.

When he opened the screen, he suddenly saw a message from Li Yuechi, sent five minutes ago.

The message only had three words: [Check my WeChat.]

So Tang Heng clicked on his WeChat profile picture.

The originally blank background of his Moments had been replaced.

On the screen, neither he nor Li Yuechi had much of a smile, and there was even a bit of restraint on their faces due to the unfamiliar situation of taking a photo together. But fortunately, the sunshine was bright, the sky was blue, and behind them were endless blue waves and green mountains.

Tang Heng replied to his message, “Well done.”

Li Yuechi responded, “Should have hugged you for the photo.”

Tang Heng replied, “Didn’t want to scare the younger students.”

Li Yuechi said, “Just put your arm around my shoulder, they won’t notice.”

Tang Heng said, “You didn’t see his girlfriend smiling the whole time?”

Li Yuechi asked, “Smiling about what?”

Tang Heng said, “I don’t know, but it was quite eerie.”

Li Yuechi fell silent.

Tang Heng suggested, “Let’s use WeChat.”

Li Yuechi teased, “Are you afraid I’ll run out of credit?”

Tang Heng wanted to say it wasn’t about you running out of credit, just that it felt a bit… childish.

But before he could reply, Li Yuechi’s message came through again:

[It’s okay, just save the money you spend on cigarettes and use it to top up my phone credit.]

Tang Heng: “…”

Li Yuechi: “It used to be me, now it’s your turn.”

Why was he resorting to moral blackmail now?

Tang Heng glanced ahead and met Li Yuechi’s gaze. Across a few dark heads, Li Yuechi blinked at him, and gently curved his lips.

A few seconds later, Tang Heng lowered his head and replied to the message: [Okay.]