This afternoon, when I was done packing, I went to the kitchen for a glass of water. The dispenser was empty so I called the water place. Half an hour later, there was still no sign of them. I would have cancelled the order, but I’d run out of cash the last time round and still owed the delivery guy. Best to tie up loose ends before leaving. Getting thirstier, I found a battered kettle in a cupboard, filled it, and put it on the stove to boil. The pale blue flame flickered and the kettle hissed. Waiting on the couch, I dozed off and dreamed of Dabin and Zifeng, looking the same as when we were teenagers, sprinting through the nighttime alleyways, drunk and merry. Even our acne was glowing. We ran all the way to the neon-lit main road, where a lot of people our age held beer bottles and walked towards the nearby square. We jumped into a red jeep, cheering and whistling, leaning out the windows as it sped ahead. It felt like a carnival.

When you buzzed, I thought it must be the delivery guy and called out that the door was unlocked. My eyes stayed shut as I tried to cling to the dream. Like the end of a movie, the jeep was in the distance, the buildings and streets were shrinking away, and I could no longer hear the cheers and laughter. The curtain came down and everything was taken away, leaving me alone in the dark, an empty bowl. After a while, I felt a chilly breeze. The door was open but I heard no footsteps, nothing but silence.

I opened my eyes. You were in the doorway. I didn’t know how long you’d been there. Had you seen me laughing from the dream, then my sadness when I woke, when I was at my most vulnerable? You said my name in a soft, raspy voice, as if you hadn’t spoken for a long time. The sky was dark—about to snow. The boiling water rumbled. I looked carefully but didn’t know who you were, yet I felt this stranger standing in the gloom had a deep connection to my life. The thought chilled my spine. I frantically flicked through the Rolodex of my mind. You told me you were Li Jiaqi.