Running Toward You
The day before Qin Mudong’s training camp for the international physics competition happened to be the end-of-term ceremony. At Zhang Chuchu’s enthusiastic invitation, all the former students of the physics competition class gathered together again.
Compared to regular classes, the dynamic of the competition class was somewhat awkward.
They had only been classmates for a single year, during which people came and went frequently. Some dropped out, others joined in—the group was constantly changing.
Under normal circumstances, it would be hard to feel a sense of belonging in a class like that. But as soon as they sat back in their familiar seats, they became comrades once more, having braved battles together. Everyone remembered: they were part of the competition class.
Just like in other classes, many students bought autograph books, and others signed each other’s uniforms. Lu Xingjia’s school uniform was covered in signatures. He signed a huge one on Qin Mudong’s uniform as well.
The noise and laughter continued for quite a while before Zhang Chuchu finally walked into the classroom. He had just said, “Everyone quiet down,” when someone whistled and started clapping. The applause rolled on and on.
It had been a while since they last saw each other. Knowing how excited the students were, Zhang Chuchu didn’t stop them and waited patiently for the noise to die down. But before it did, someone suddenly shouted, “Chu Ge, I love you!”
The voice was loud and clear, echoing in the classroom three times.
That one shout led to a chorus of voices: “Chu Ge, we love you!”
And as they shouted, tears began to form in many eyes.
No one said it out loud, but everyone knew—this might be the last time they’d all be together. In the future, they’d go their separate ways, and it would be hard to gather like this again.
The meaning of graduation was fully expressed at that moment.
“Hey now, don’t cry,” Zhang Chuchu said, half-laughing, half-teasing, as he tossed the box of tissues on the podium to the girl in the front row. “Wipe those tears. If the principal passes by, he might think I scolded you.”
His silly joke made everyone laugh and cry at the same time. Zhang Chuchu also quietly wiped the corner of his own moist eyes, then continued:
“Congratulations, everyone. You’ve graduated.”
Actually, Zhang Chuchu had originally prepared a long, emotional speech, but after seeing so many students crying, he got scared and didn’t read a single word of it. Instead, he just started casually chatting with the students.
Everyone was very cooperative too—they talked about everything from college applications to future careers. Later, they even discussed how much to give in wedding gift money, joking about attending each other’s weddings. No one mentioned the upcoming separation.
Amidst the laughter and joy, night quietly fell. No one wanted to be the first to say they had to leave, but eventually, they ran out of things to talk about.
Everyone looked at each other and smiled. Finally, a girl hesitantly spoke up:
“Sorry, I have a train to catch tomorrow morning. I need to go pack.”
That broke the silence. Another boy said,
“I have to head out too. My mom’s been urging me to go home.”
Then someone else chimed in,
“Same here.”
“I’ve got to go too.”
“Sorry.”
…
One by one, five or six people left. The lively atmosphere in the classroom gradually quieted down.
There’s no such thing as a feast that never ends. Zhang Chuchu sighed softly and took the initiative to say,
“It’s getting late… why don’t you all head home?”
The response was silence.
Every gathering must eventually end, but deep down, everyone wished this final get-together could last just a little longer.
“Don’t go yet,” Qiu Ruifeng’s loud voice broke the silence. “Doesn’t Chu Ge still have that USB drive with movies? Let’s watch one together—make it lively again.”
The suggestion got enthusiastic approval. Zhang Chuchu cheerfully went to the office to get the USB.
They drew the curtains, turned off the lights, and the classroom went completely dark. Just like countless times before, everyone focused on the whiteboard at the front, cherishing this last bit of time together. Even the wind outside seemed to quiet down.
It was the year 2012, and rumors about the world ending were rampant. The movie playing on the whiteboard was 2012, a doomsday film.
The screen went black, and the vast universe appeared first.
Planets floated and moved in the dark cosmos, some bright, some dim—mysterious and awe-inspiring.
“So beautiful,” Lu Xingjia looked up at the whiteboard and couldn’t help but sigh.
It was a classic movie he’d watched multiple times, but every time, he was still deeply moved—perhaps not just by the story, but by the sheer vastness of the universe.
“It really is beautiful,” Qin Mudong agreed, his gaze lifting slightly to the stars flickering on the screen. “The universe was born from the explosion of a singularity, expanding into this enormous system of stars, planets, cosmic dust—embracing all possible forms of life. And in the end, it collapses back into a single point, beginning again in an endless cycle.”
When it came to astronomy, Qin Mudong clearly had a lot to say. He turned to Lu Xingjia and asked,
“Do you know how far the closest star to us is?”
Lu Xingjia hesitated, then shook his head.
“No idea.”
“4.22 light-years,” Qin Mudong replied. “That’s about forty trillion kilometers. Even the fastest spacecraft we have would take seventeen years to make the round trip. It’s a distance far beyond what ordinary people can reach in a lifetime.”
“So far!” Lu Xingjia gasped. In his mind, it was like a long, endless road suddenly appeared. After a pause, he seemed to think of something and suddenly smiled.
“But, this time you’re wrong.”
Qin Mudong froze slightly, and then Lu Xingjia said,
“Isn’t your star right in front of you?”
Just then, the movie’s long intro ended, and the sharp sound of a blade unsheathing rang out. The dark screen lit up brightly.
Surrounded by darkness, a beam of white light spilled onto Lu Xingjia, as if he were bathed in the glow of the Milky Way.
A bright smile spread across the boy’s face, his amber-like eyes glittering with little specks of light—more dazzling than the vast starry sky.
Qin Mudong’s throat bobbed. He gazed quietly at Lu Xingjia, voice hoarse:
“Yeah, I was wrong.”
“The star closest to me is just fifty centimeters away.”
He reached out and took Lu Xingjia’s hand, intertwining their fingers. In his dark eyes, the starlight shimmered too.
“And now, I’ve caught it.”
At some point, the wind had lifted a corner of the curtain. The last rays of the sunset streamed in, and the starlight of night finally arrived.
The movie soon came to an end, and so did their final gathering.
After brief reunions and farewells, everyone had to return to their own paths, moving forward—each becoming one of the many distant, unconnected stars scattered across the vast sea of people.
Every star follows its own orbit. After a brief encounter comes a long separation. That’s the law of physics.
But there will always be one star that’s different—crossing the boundless universe, breaking free of all rules and truths—just to come rushing to you.
–The End–
Author’s Note:
The final scene had been in my mind for a long time, and it took quite a while to write. I was prepared to stay up all night, but I managed to finish it today.
I feel that ending the main story here is already very complete. Next up are the extras, which will start updating tomorrow. Tentatively, I’ll include “After Starting Work,” and there will be side couple extras too. As for others like reincarnation timelines, I’ll decide depending on the situation.
Like Chu Ge, I had planned to write a long message, but in the end, I gave up. I’m really not good at writing emotional things—it feels a bit embarrassing.
So, just—thank you all for staying with me. Thank you for your patience and acceptance of my immature writing and storytelling. With your presence, Mudong and Jia Jia’s story feels truly complete.
Oh right, I almost forgot—one last important thing: participating in competitions is actually very tough. The hardships have been somewhat romanticized in the story. If you’re a high school student reading this, please be cautious and think carefully before choosing this path. What matters most is finding what suits you best.