Still Warm

The light winter at Mingde University always carries a gentle warmth. Jiang Yan is a person who is slow to the core. I only take art classes for credit, and I always sit in the back row in class reading irrelevant news; I work part-time at the "Shiguang" cafe, grinding beans and brewing at my own pace, taking my time; I treat interpersonal relationships even more alienated and dull, like the still shadow of a tree in winter, silent and restrained. Su Wan happened to understand his slowness. As an art student, she is passionate about Monet's light and shadow and Van Gogh's brushwork, but never talks endlessly about Jiang Yan; she likes to sit quietly at the window seat in a cafe, reading or painting, without deliberately looking for topics or forcing the distance; occasionally sharing a postcard of "Water Lilies" or mentioning the story of a certain painting, she only touches on it, like a breeze passing over the lake without leaving any deliberate ripples. Their interactions were as light as warm water: the nods across three rows of seats in art class, the silent companionship of sitting next to each other in the library, the tacit understanding of passing a cup of Yirgacheffe in the cafe, and the nothing to say when walking side by side on the way to school. There was no grand confession, no deliberate romance - Jiang Yan was always as plain as ever, and Su Wan was always gentle and accommodating. This is a story about slowness and accommodation. Like the warm sun of winter slowly melting the morning frost, like the lukewarm coffee gradually extracting its richness, Jiang Yan and Su Wan used silence as the foundation and companionship as the ink to slowly write their answers in their ordinary daily life: The best relationship is never about rushing to get closer, but about being willing to accompany each other through a long time, allowing love to slowly settle in the remaining warmth and flow slowly.