When he was thirty-one years old, Chen Huihe was giving a report at the National Biomaterials Conference and was asked by a woman in a gray suit whether he should come down from the stage. The questions were tricky and precise, pointing to the weaknesses of his experimental data. He looked up and saw Lin Ruo, whom he hadn't seen in ten years.
She was his high school classmate back then, the girl who rushed to the track to help him up during the sports meeting, and the one who asked him "Can you accompany me to take the Beijing exam" downstairs in the dormitory when he graduated. He was silent for a long time and said, "I don't want to delay you." Later, she went to the United States and he stayed in the university's laboratory.
Reunited ten years later, they were rivals bidding for the same national project. His laboratory is in a university, and her team is in a multinational pharmaceutical company. One is responsible for materials and the other is responsible for delivery. However, the research direction is upstream and downstream - they must cooperate to win this project.
During the three months of joint research, they were locked up in the same laboratory. They blushed for reagents, stayed up all night to meet the deadline, and talked about their respective unwillingness over the years under the stars in the grassland. He also finally found out that the faded hairpin had always been on her dressing table - he bought it with his first-month scholarship in high school for five yuan, a street vendor.
On the day the project was awarded, everyone was celebrating. But she whispered in the corridor: "It's over, it's time for me to go back to Shanghai."
This time, Chen Huihe did not remain silent.
