No matter how hard she hurried, she was still a step too late.

But in this era, entering the city wasn’t as simple as just deciding to go. Cheng Xuemin needed a letter of introduction from the brigade first; without it, he couldn’t even leave Guanzhuang Commune. To go to Yanjing, even the brigade’s introduction letter might not be enough—he’d need one from the commune itself. In addition to the letter, he also needed national food coupons; local ones alone wouldn’t do, as Yanjing wouldn’t accept them.

Fortunately, for Cheng Xuemin, neither the letter nor the national food coupons posed much of a problem. The Party Secretary of Chengjiawan Brigade was his uncle, so he got the brigade’s letter of introduction that very afternoon. And since his maternal uncle was a cadre at the commune, getting the commune’s letter of introduction, along with ten jin of national food coupons, was just as smooth.

Moreover, to make things easier for his nephew in Yanjing, his uncle used his position to give him a blank letter of introduction—one that Cheng could fill out himself for whatever proof he might need once he arrived in Yanjing. This was something his mother had managed to obtain only after crying all night at her parents’ house. Otherwise, who would dare open such a backdoor for anyone but close blood kin?

With three letters of introduction and ten jin of national food coupons in hand, everything was ready—except for the train ticket, which would be a bit tricky. Ordinary villagers, without a train ticket, wouldn’t dare leave the commune. But Cheng Xuemin was different! Accustomed to the fast-paced life of the future, where you could just pack a bag and go, he didn’t wait for the commune to arrange his ticket. He packed his things, took the bus to the county, and then transferred to the city’s railway station.

Armed with his letters of introduction, he managed to buy two tickets for the next day’s train to Yanjing. The first ticket would take him to the provincial capital; the second was a direct line from there to Yanjing. There was no direct train from his city, so he had to transfer. Since his train was the following day, he spent the night at a nearby guesthouse.

On November 10, 1978, after more than forty hours of travel, Cheng Xuemin’s train pulled into Yanjing Station. Going with the flow of the crowd out of the station, he gazed at the distinctly old-fashioned square in front and thought to himself: Yanjing, I’m here! Feng Jiayou, your man is here!

Feng Jiayou was a boarding student. In her letters, she hadn’t mentioned her home address. The return address on her envelope was Yanjing University. Since her parents hadn’t yet been fully reinstated and returned to the city, they likely didn’t have a home in Yanjing and she must have been staying at the university.

So, after leaving the station, he found out which bus went to Yanjing University and boarded it. Another forty minutes or so on the bus, and by a little after four in the afternoon, Cheng Xuemin arrived at the university and entered without any trouble. In those days, Yanjing University was mostly open to the public; no one checked who came and went.

Unlike decades later, when you’d need to buy a ticket costing over a hundred and fifty just to visit and experience the atmosphere of the country’s most prestigious university. Of course, if you had friends among the students, you could still get in for free.

Yanjing University was vast—so vast that after asking for directions at the gate, it took Cheng Xuemin nearly an hour on foot to find the department where Feng Jiayou studied.

“Excuse me, is this the Chinese Department, majoring in Chinese Language?”
“Do you know a student named Feng Jiayou?”

He found the large lecture hall of her department just as class was ending, and waited quietly outside, ignoring the curious and scrutinizing glances from the students filing out. He waited until the last student left, but there was no sign of Feng Jiayou. Anxious, he stopped the final girl and asked her.

“Are you here to see Jiayou? May I ask who you are to her?” Huang Beijia adjusted her large glasses, eyeing the somewhat rustic yet strikingly resolute young man before her with caution.

He didn’t look like a Yanjing University student. Here to see Feng Jiayou? Could he be a relative from the countryside?

“Are you Cheng Xuemin?” Suddenly, Huang Beijia’s eyes lit up as she remembered what Feng Jiayou had told her last week. She blurted out the question.

“Uh? You know me?” Cheng Xuemin didn’t need to ask any further; he’d found the right place! This girl was clearly Feng Jiayou’s classmate, and this was indeed her class.

But if all the students had just left, why hadn’t he seen Feng Jiayou? And how could this girl know his name from a single question about Feng Jiayou? Clearly, Feng Jiayou had mentioned him to her.

“Of course I know you! I know you all too well! You’re the one who got Jiayou pregnant, aren’t you?” Huang Beijia said bluntly, confirming what Cheng Xuemin already suspected—Feng Jiayou really was pregnant.

“Don’t just stand there. Jiayou hasn’t been to class in a week. I heard her parents have come back to the city and found out she’s pregnant. They want to force her to have it taken care of. You’d better go to her home and check!” Once again, Huang Beijia’s words shocked Cheng Xuemin—his face turned ashen.

So what Feng Jiayou had written was true—she was pregnant, and her parents wanted her to get rid of it. Most importantly, her parents had returned to the city. That explained why her last letter had been so final and decisive. The pressure must have come from her parents. Otherwise, how could she have gone from weeping at their parting to writing such a cold letter?

He’d suspected as much when reading her letter, which was why he’d rushed there without delay. But if she’d already been on leave for a week and her parents were trying to force her to end her pregnancy, was he too late? Yet he’d set out the very day after receiving her letter.

But then he remembered the date on her letter was from half a month earlier, which made him even more anxious. Grabbing his bag, he turned to rush away—but after a few steps, hurried back to ask, “Do you know her home address? Have her family reported back to the school these past two days?”

He was genuinely panicked, terrified that Feng Jiayou, unable to bear the pressure, had already gone through with the abortion before he could arrive. In those days, such a procedure was incredibly risky—almost a matter of life and death.

“Ah! Yes, yes! Before she left, Jiayou gave me her address. She said you’d definitely come looking for her in these few days. She made sure to leave it for you!” Huang Beijia, equally flustered, rummaged through her bag, found a textbook, and pulled out a slip of paper from the bookmark—Feng Jiayou’s address. She handed it to Cheng Xuemin.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” Cheng Xuemin glanced at the address, murmured his thanks, and hurried off again.