Quick Transmigration: I Was Cannon Fodder But Became the White Moonlight

Time is like sand slipping through your fingers; the more you try to hold on, the faster it slips away.

On the third day, they didn't go anywhere special.

In the morning, we went to the supermarket together and bought some fresh ingredients. When we returned to the villa, Chen Su cooked a few simple home-style dishes.

Shen Que assisted her; his movements weren't exactly skilled, but he was very attentive.

The little orange cat circled around their feet, meowing and begging for food.

A quiet lunch, the room filled with sunlight, had a simple yet genuine warmth, like the many days they had spent in the villa during their summer vacation before their senior year of high school.

In the afternoon, they sat on the sofa in the living room, with Xiao Ju curled up between them.

Chen Su finally took out the commemorative album that she had treasured for three years but had never been able to give away.

The booklet was thick, and the edges were rounded from frequent handling.

"This," she gently placed the commemorative album in Shen Que's hand, her voice soft, tinged with a barely perceptible nervousness, "should have been given to you three years ago. Happy birthday... though it's late... by many, many days."

Shen Que looked down at the thick, handcrafted booklet in her hand, her fingertips brushing over the simple sketches of a cat and a small billiard ball on the cover, which she had personally drawn.

He turned to the first page, which showed a profile of him sleeping on a desk at the back of the classroom. The photo was a bit blurry, as if it had been taken secretly.

Beside her was her neat handwriting, with the date and the sentence: "A new day, and you still can't sleep any longer."

He turned the pages slowly, one by one.

There are moments of his focused concentration while playing billiards, the two helmets reflected in the motorcycle's rearview mirror, the various funny antics of Little Orange in the villa, his rare gentle smile when teasing the cat, the footprints of one big and one small while walking on the beach, and the city night view from the top of the Ferris wheel...

More often than not, many moments were quietly captured by her with the camera he had given her, moments that even he himself had not noticed.

Some scenes, which he himself had almost forgotten, were treasured and cherished by her, imbued with warmth and meaning.

The living room was quiet, with only the rustling sound of him turning the pages and Xiao Ju's soft snoring.

Chen Su sat quietly to the side, not disturbing him, only occasionally stealing glances to observe his expression.

Shen Que read very slowly and carefully, with little change in expression on his face, but the lines of his jaw seemed softer than usual, and the fingertips holding the paper were very light.

Until you turn to the last page, it's a blank page with only a line of small print in the bottom right corner:

"To Shen Que. May your future be bright and radiant, and as free as the wind. —Chen Su"

Shen Que stared at that line of text for a long time, so long that Chen Su began to feel uneasy. Only then did he close the booklet, look up, and look at her.

His eyes were deep, like a bottomless sea, churning with intense and complex emotions she couldn't understand.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low and husky. He clutched the commemorative album tightly in his hands, as if it were some rare treasure. "I like it very much."

Chen Su's heart finally settled down, but her nose felt a little sore.

She blinked hard, forcing back the moisture, and gave a faint smile: "I'm glad you like it."

The final moments were spent at the airport.

Chen Su actually hates train stations and airports.

These places are filled with echoes of parting, waiting, and uncertainty.

The cold, abandoned feeling I had when I hung up the phone three years ago amidst the boarding announcement was still vivid in my memory.

The international departure hall was still brightly lit and bustling with people.

Beyond the massive glass curtain wall lies the desolate expanse of the airport runway stretching into the distance.

This time, she was finally able to see him off in person, to watch him leave, and to personally hand him that belated commemorative album.

But the pain of parting did not become any easier because of this.

"That's enough for now."

Shen Que stopped at the security checkpoint and turned to face her.

He changed into a darker, more business-like coat, which made his shoulders appear broader and his legs longer, giving him a much more composed demeanor.

"Hmm." Chen Su nodded, trying to force a smile, but found her lips felt heavy.

The surroundings were filled with the sounds of people talking, announcements, and suitcase wheels rolling.

But between them, the air seemed to freeze.

Shen Que put down his small suitcase, stepped forward, and opened his arms.

Without any hesitation, Chen Su threw herself into his arms and hugged his waist tightly.

Shen Que immediately tightened his arms around her, holding her tightly in his embrace, and gently rested his chin on the top of her head.

This hug was tighter and more silent than the one at the hospital entrance three days ago.

Neither of them spoke, but they exerted all their strength to feel each other's presence, warmth, and heartbeat, as if trying to imprint this touch deep into their bones and blood to fight against the longing in the years of separation to come.

The airport announcement sounded again, urging passengers on a certain flight to board as soon as possible.

That formulaic female voice was very cold.

Chen Su's eyes finally welled up with tears.

She buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled, thick with nasal congestion and an overwhelming sadness: "When...will we meet again?"

She asked cautiously, with an uncertain and fearful air, as if she were asking for a vague promise.

Shen Que tightened his grip on her arm.

He loosened his embrace slightly, cupped her face in his hands, and gently but firmly wiped away the tears that kept sliding down her cheeks with his thumbs.

His gaze was fixed firmly on her reddened eyes, and he spoke clearly, word by word:

"One year."

His tone was more serious and certain than ever before, without the slightest hesitation or perfunctoriness.

He has submitted all the final materials required for early graduation, and the succession of the family business and the shift in focus have entered a smooth transition period.

For the past three years, he has been desperately compressing time and exceeding expectations, not only to prove something to his family or parents or to inherit something, but more importantly, the driving force is right in front of him now, looking at him with slightly red eyes.

It was so that I could be closer to her.

It's so that I can be with her forever.

"I'm already making preparations."

He said in a low voice, each word carrying weight, "A year from now, I will be responsible for leading the company back to China and developing the Chinese market."

Therefore, the next time I come back, it will not be such a short and hurried stay.

He raised his hand and gently wiped her moist eyes with his thumb.

"wait for me."

He spoke in a low voice, as if making a plea, or perhaps a vow.

Chen Su nodded vigorously, forcing a smile:

"it is good."

The announcement came on again, this time the final boarding call for his flight.

Shen Que gave her a deep look, as if trying to etch her image into his mind.

Then, he let go, picked up his suitcase, turned around, and walked towards the security checkpoint, never looking back.

Chen Su stood there, watching his figure disappear at the end of the passage until it was completely out of sight.

The cool autumn night breeze blew in through the airport's massive entrance.

Chen Su pulled her coat tighter, took one last look in the direction he disappeared, turned around, and walked back the way she came.

The sky outside the airport was high and clear.

A silver plane roared into the sky, piercing the heavens and heading towards the other side of the ocean.

One year. She silently repeated the number in her mind.

This time, she was no longer afraid to wait. Because they had made a promise.

She knew that this "goodbye" meant goodbye.

It's for a better reunion.