She forms a unique bond with her desk mate, Xu Nuobai, who has obsessive-compulsive disorder. When leukemia takes Xu Nuobai, leaving behind only a copy of the First Aid Guide and half a box of lemon candies, Huang Wanxiang’s world falls into chaos. She slings her worn pink backpack over her shoulders and returns to school. As she learns to keep her desk tidy, makes peace with her bullies, and raises money for blood disease research, she gradually turns his “organizing method” into the courage to face life. Meanwhile, in the virtual games LifeAfter and Delta Force, she meets a timid online friend called “Little Cousin.” The two fight side by side in the ruins of the apocalypse and save each other, as the light of the real and virtual worlds reflects back and forth. In the end, she discovers that their promise about “keeping things tidy” has never been broken. It lives on in every math problem she solves, every time she bravely faces the prison warden during an escape, and every time she teaches someone to line up the borders of a spreadsheet. Like the stars, it continues to shine with a faint light. This is a story about finding the courage to move forward after loss, and letting sharp pain settle into a gentle strength. It explores the timeless questions of memory, friendship, and rebuilding yourself.
Dear Reader:
Hello.
When you see this, we have gone through twelve chapters together. From the alley with its shadow stretched by the setting sun, to the ward filled with the smell of disinfectant, to the virtual world flashing on the screen of my mobile phone today - this journey has gone further and deeper than I imagined.
When I first wrote these words, I just wanted to record a story about "organizing". How a boy uses his own way to draw a clear line in another person's chaotic world; after one person leaves, how the person left behind learns to put things in their place in the mess.
But as I write, the story takes on a life of its own.
Xunuobai is more than just a name, he has become a symbol of something - about order, about commitment, about those things that have to learn to say goodbye before they have time to grow up. Huang Wanxiang is not just a protagonist, she is the part in each of us that still tries to put life together after loss.
You may have noticed that there are many "imperfections" in this story:
A boy with obsessive-compulsive disorder who is so nervous that his fingers tremble but insists on bandaging your wounds
A virtual escape that ended in failure
An expired lemon candy
A crack on a mobile phone screen
A silly game ID
A confession of "I'm a little scared"
But it's these imperfections that make everything real.
It's so real that it's just like what you and I have experienced - those unspoken thanks, the promises that couldn't be fulfilled, the summer without an ending. It's so real that just like this moment, when you read these words, you may also have a certain person's face, a certain unfinished conversation, or the light of a mobile phone screen in your mind late at night.
Perhaps what I want to say most about this story is:
Some things are broken when they are broken, but light can also shine through the cracks.
Some people just leave, but the remaining warmth can still warm a winter morning.
Some battles are destined to fail, but the memory of fighting side by side is a victory in itself.
Huang Wanxiang is still learning. Learn to live after loss, create order out of chaos, and find real connections in a virtual world. The pink schoolbag on her back is worn and worn, and the screen of her mobile phone is cracked - but these marks are not incomplete, but evidence of life.
Just like you who are reading right now, you must have similar traces on your body.
Thank you for walking her this far. She (and we) will continue to walk on the road ahead - with the sourness and sweetness of those lemon candies, those unfinished words, the residual warmth of those late-night games, and the heart that is always sorting out chaos and accepting chaos.
The story continues.
Because so is life.
To all who find order in chaos, learn to remember after loss, and see stars in the cracks.
——Author Wanxiang
Dear Reader: Hello. When you see this, we have gone through twelve chapters together. From the alley with its shadow stretched by the setting sun, to the ward filled with the smell of disinfectant, to the virtual world flashing on the screen of my mobile phone today - this journey has gone further and deeper than I imagined. When I first wrote these words, I just wanted to record a story about "organizing". How a boy uses his own way to draw a clear line in another person's chaotic world; after one person leaves, how the person left behind learns to put things in their place in the mess. But as I write, the story takes on a life of its own. Xunuobai is more than just a name, he has become a symbol of something - about order, about commitment, about those things that have to learn to say goodbye before they have time to grow up. Huang Wanxiang is not just a protagonist, she is the part in each of us that still tries to put life together after loss. You may have noticed that there are many "imperfections" in this story: A boy with obsessive-compulsive disorder who is so nervous that his fingers tremble but insists on bandaging your wounds A virtual escape that ended in failure An expired lemon candy A crack on a mobile phone screen A silly game ID A confession of "I'm a little scared" But it's these imperfections that make everything real. It's so real that it's just like what you and I have experienced - those unspoken thanks, the promises that couldn't be fulfilled, the summer without an ending. It's so real that just like this moment, when you read these words, you may also have a certain person's face, a certain unfinished conversation, or the light of a mobile phone screen in your mind late at night. Perhaps what I want to say most about this story is: Some things are broken when they are broken, but light can also shine through the cracks. Some people just leave, but the remaining warmth can still warm a winter morning. Some battles are destined to fail, but the memory of fighting side by side is a victory in itself. Huang Wanxiang is still learning. Learn to live after loss, create order out of chaos, and find real connections in a virtual world. The pink schoolbag on her back is worn and worn, and the screen of her mobile phone is cracked - but these marks are not incomplete, but evidence of life. Just like you who are reading right now, you must have similar traces on your body. Thank you for walking her this far. She (and we) will continue to walk on the road ahead - with the sourness and sweetness of those lemon candies, those unfinished words, the residual warmth of those late-night games, and the heart that is always sorting out chaos and accepting chaos. The story continues. Because so is life. To all who find order in chaos, learn to remember after loss, and see stars in the cracks. ——Author Wanxiang