The corridor was quiet, the meeting room door half-open, and the air still carried the scent of coffee and printed paper. Qing Ye held a folder and walked lightly past the elevator entrance, her gaze catching the sunlight spilling onto the gray carpet, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow.
As she lowered her head to organize the documents, a familiar voice called from behind, "Qing Ye?"
She froze for a moment, then looked up—it was Shen Yihang, a former colleague from the project team.
Shen Yihang's appearance was not unexpected; after all, the project circle in Jing City was small. But in Qing Ye's mind, this person had once occupied a small, indescribable part of her memories. It was not emotional entanglement, nor a complex conflict of interest, just traces of her past self under project pressure.
Shen Yihang was taller than she had imagined, more composed, and his smile carried the warmth of sunlight. Yet the aura in his eyes was calm and casual, without the sharpness that forced people to approach. He extended his hand: "Long time no see. You haven't changed much."
Qing Ye instinctively clenched her fist, her chest tightening slightly.
—Haven't changed? Her past self may have been a little inexperienced, but now she was no longer the girl who was easily overwhelmed by tasks or swayed by others' judgments.
She smiled faintly, her voice calm: "You can tell, then."
Shen Yihang glanced around, as if confirming no one was nearby, and said casually, "I heard you're Huang's assistant now. Impressive."
The words felt like a gentle knife, touching the depth of Qing Ye's pride and sense of growth.
In the past, she had been clumsy handling documents and coordinating parties under project pressure. Now, even facing Chujiu Huang's high standards and strict requirements, she could respond calmly, every report clear, every coordination well-planned.
Qing Ye pursed her lips and replied lightly, "Yes, still learning."
Her voice was even, yet carried undeniable confidence.
Shen Yihang smiled and nodded slightly. "I can see it. You've changed."
In that instant, countless images flashed through Qing Ye's mind:
Staying up late to organize reports when the project deadline approached.
Feeling wronged and bowing her head under colleagues' doubts.
Nights of gritting her teeth to persevere under pressure.
These memories surged like a tide, making her heart beat a little faster.
She thought to herself, she had once truly wanted to forget all of it, but these people, these past moments, always carried the warmth of life, coming uninvited to remind her—The paths I walked have shaped who I am today.
Shen Yihang looked at her, his eyebrows slightly raised, as if reading her expression. He said nothing further, only added lightly, "But you seem much steadier than before."
Qing Ye pursed her lips and nodded gently.
—Steadier, and clearer. Her emotions were no longer easily swayed by the outside world; her bottom line, pace, and approach were more mature than before.
There was a subtle calm in the air, as if both were silently assessing each other's changes.
Shen Yihang suddenly chuckled softly, "It seems some people truly have to go through things to genuinely grow."
Qing Ye felt a slight stir in her heart, recalling the feeling deep inside—Chujiu Huang.
This quiet affection had long taken root in her heart; no matter how many old friends she met, no matter how past memories surged, it could not be shaken. Her growth only allowed her to better control her emotions and understand her own heart clearly.
She looked up at Shen Yihang, her gaze calm and firm: "Yes, as long as we've been through it, right?"
Speaking these words, she had no hesitation, no retreat.
In her heart, past people and events were only stepping stones; what truly mattered were her present and future directions—Chujiu Huang, work, growth, and the feelings she could no longer hide.
Shen Yihang seemed to sense the firmness in her tone, nodded, his smile carrying a hint of relief: "Yes, that's good."
They shared a brief glance, a tacit understanding filling the air: the past was past, and each of them continued moving forward.
Qing Ye tightened her grip on the folder, smiled slightly: "I'll get back to work then."
Shen Yihang waved goodbye, his figure gradually disappearing down the corridor.
Qing Ye stood in place, taking a deep breath.
The faint waves of emotion in her heart gradually settled, replaced by a sense of clarity—past memories reminded her that she had grown and understood what she truly wanted; the people and feelings that truly mattered were already engraved in her heart.
She lowered her head to organize the files, her steps light and steady.
In her mind, Chujiu Huang's figure flashed—familiar and warm—the stern brows, focused expression, and the meticulous and decisive logic behind every instruction.
Qing Ye knew that no matter how many old friends she encountered, no matter how memories surged, she would not waver. Her love had already taken root; her growth allowed her to face all challenges and emotions calmly.
Walking out of the office, sunlight slanted through the windows, falling on her straight back.
Qing Ye smiled lightly in her heart: she could cherish the people of the past; she could control her present self; and her goals for the future already had direction in her heart.
The corridor remained quiet, the meeting room door half-open, the air still carrying the scent of coffee and printed paper. Qing Ye held her folder and walked slowly past the elevator entrance, sunlight pouring in from the windows, casting mottled patterns across the gray carpet. Her steps were light, yet it felt as if she was treading on memories within her heart, each step carrying a subtle vibration.
The brief conversation with Shen Yihang just now stirred inside her, like ripples on a lake lifted by a breeze. His figure remained composed and confident, and his smile carried warmth, but that warmth did not belong to her, and would not belong to her again. She knew that Shen Yihang was merely a symbol, a trigger for memories, while the feeling that truly made her heartbeat quicken pointed to another person—Chujiu Huang.
Chujiu Huang—the presence that had always been distant yet steadfast in her heart. He was not physically by her side, yet his shadow was everywhere. Every encounter with an old acquaintance, every glimpse of someone else's back, would unconsciously pull her thoughts back to him: those stern brows, focused expression, and the decisiveness and logic behind every instruction. Like stars in the night sky, bright yet unreachable.
Qing Ye took a deep breath and hugged the folder a little tighter. Her past self had often been flustered under project pressure, easily influenced by others' evaluations, always feeling like she could be seen through or denied at any moment. But now, her mindset had changed—every time she organized materials, every time she reported, she could control the pace and stay organized; every time she coordinated or communicated, she could remain composed. Growth had given her confidence and taught her how to manage her emotions, no longer easily disturbed by the outside world.
She walked to the window, sunlight falling on her shoulders, casting her straight silhouette. She closed her eyes, and the outline of Chujiu Huang appeared in her mind, familiar yet distant. She smiled faintly—there was warmth, but also a hint of heartache. Those days in the project when she secretly observed him, those moments that made her heart flutter, seemed like yesterday, yet were so far away, unreachable. She remembered how much she had wanted to get close, yet restrained herself, knowing that her feelings might only be one-sided, still willing to keep them quietly in her heart.
"Going through it is enough," she whispered to herself, her voice so low it seemed afraid to disturb the memories in her heart. She understood that every past experience, every effort, had shaped the person she was today. The confusion and uncertainty of the past, the sleepless nights, the times she was doubted or challenged—all had settled into inner strength, allowing her to remain calm when facing the unknown and pressure.
Qing Ye lifted her head and looked at the fading figure of Shen Yihang at the end of the corridor, her lips curving slightly. She knew that past people and events were only stepping stones, reminders of the paths she had walked; what truly mattered were the present and future directions. She gently adjusted her folder and silently recited Chujiu Huang's name, as if instilling herself with a quiet strength. No matter how many challenges the future held, no matter how many people or matters tried to interfere, she could face them calmly—because she already knew what she wanted and who she truly cared about.
She stepped forward, her pace light yet resolute, as if gradually gathering the ripples in her heart. In her mind, Chujiu Huang's figure appeared at the project site, focused and decisive, his brows and eyes radiating a reassuring firmness. Qing Ye's heart stirred slightly; she knew this love would not fade because of distance, time, or memories. On the contrary, her growth gave her the confidence to protect this feeling while remaining unaffected by life's trivialities.
Walking out of the office, sunlight slanted across her back, warm and bright. Qing Ye smiled lightly in her heart: past acquaintances could be cherished, her present self could be controlled, and the goals for the future were already clear. She knew that no matter how many people or events she encountered, her heart had long been firmly anchored by love and growth; she could face any storm and calmly walk toward the direction that belonged to her.