I left my home in Yanjing and set foot in the northwest. The wind here carried the rough grit of sand, the sunlight was fierce and frank, and the vast Gobi Desert brought a sense of peace.
The campus stood in the desert, and life was simple and full of warmth. I buried myself in my studies in class, then walked down empty streets at sunset with my classmates, ate a bowl of piping-hot, spicy noodles, and listened to laughter in accents from all over. The sandstorms swept away my restlessness, while solitude helped me grow. In the dry air, I learned to be independent; beneath the vast skies, I learned perseverance.
Those ordinary yet vibrant days held the confusion and stubbornness of youth, as well as the unique warmth and strength of the northwest. They became a time I would never forget.
