When the Snow Clears and Dawn Breaks

[Planting a Girl's Backward Glance] 1, At the dean's arrangement, Xu Jiayuan went on the first blind date of her life. She was told the other person was a PhD who had returned from overseas, a university professor, and a scientist receiving a special government allowance. They were a perfect match in every way, so she absolutely had to meet him. She had meant to politely refuse, but then she happened to hear, "You're alumni, both of you went to Stanford." She paused, and, as if possessed, agreed. The day they were supposed to meet, a sudden downpour hit City B. Xu Jiayuan arrived early. The restaurant was crowded, so instead of going inside to wait, she stood beneath the awning by the entrance. She took out her phone and sent a text telling the other person where she was and what she was wearing, to make it easier to find her. After a long while, no reply came. She lowered her head to check whether she had entered the wrong number and failed to notice when someone appeared beside her. The rain quietly changed its scent, and the forest began to grow damp. Xu Jiayuan sensed something and looked up. Their eyes met, and it was as though she had returned to rainy Palo Alto seven years ago. That was when she first met Meng Yanshi, in front of the teaching building of the School of Natural Sciences. They had stood beneath the same tree to shelter from the rain. A breeze blew in from the side, carrying the faintest trace of Meng Yanshi's scent toward her. Her heart raced absurdly fast. Xu Jiayuan forced herself to stay calm and said, "Professor Meng." 2, Xu Jiayuan had always thought that hers was a private turmoil, a love she couldn't bring herself to confess. What nobody knew was that, in the hallway just after class, the library during exam week, and the packed campus buses, Meng Yanshi had looked toward her countless times. In silence. For so, so many years. *Pairing: neurosurgeon x astrophysicist *31 x 37, younger woman x older woman *Same-sex marriage is legal in this setting Theme: Academia can be romantic, too