There Will Never Be Another Night Like This at Nineteen

Yesterday was, well, a mixture of joy and disaster.

Let me start from the beginning. After Advanced Algebra in the morning, a light drizzle began. Hmm, calling it “a light drizzle” sounds rather poetic now. At the time, I was not feeling poetic at all. I really need to complain about HEBUT's transport system: the crowd carried me in completely the wrong direction. I ended up in the east campus and had to walk back to the west campus alone in the rain.

Fine. I will count it as exercise.

A Tianjin street reflecting the city lights after the rain — Looking back, Tianjin in the rain was actually rather beautiful.

Lunch was another 3.9-yuan group order. I still had an easy English class in the afternoon, but I was exhausted and asked my roommate to sign me in. That is not a habit I should keep, though. Next time, definitely.

Lao Qin had invited me to the Haihe River, but I turned him down because it was raining. Then, just after dinner, I ran into Chun and the others as they were about to go there. More people always make things better, so I immediately forgot my objection to the rain and joined them.

Right then—ding—a message arrived. My new clothes had been delivered.

Perfect. I could wear them to the river and take a few nice photos.

Wearing my new clothes beside the Haihe River with the illuminated Jiefang Bridge behind me — The first night I had my new clothes was also the last.

A playful forced-perspective photo with a Spider-Man bead figure beside the Haihe River — We took some very serious, very unserious photos.

After the photos, we took a taxi back to campus. We were almost at the gate when something suddenly felt wrong.

Wait. Where were my clothes?

Damn. I had left them by the river.

Luckily, Xiao Qi and Xiao Miao were kind enough to wait for me at the school gate even though it was already midnight. There was no easy way to retrieve the clothes immediately, so we went for barbecue first. As we ate and talked in the late-night restaurant, q suddenly said with great excitement:

“Let's back.”

The grammar did not matter. We all knew exactly what he meant.

Everyone agreed. Just like that, the four of us decided to return to the Haihe River at one in the morning and look for my clothes.

Jiefang Bridge and the Haihe River at night, with city lights reflected on the water — On our first visit, the bridge was still full of people.

Obviously, luck was not on our side. We searched the route we had walked, but the brand-new clothes were nowhere to be found.

What I found instead was another Haihe River.

The daytime crowds and evening bustle were gone. The riverbank was so quiet that it seemed to belong only to us. Countless stars covered the sky, with the drizzle still drifting through them. We played our favourite music as we walked, and for a moment, time really seemed to stop.

The Haihe River at one in the morning, with sparse lights reflected across the water — One in the morning: a Haihe River that belonged only to us.

The temperature was barely above ten degrees. After a while, the rain grew heavier, yet we stood by the river shouting, “Youth is wonderful!”

Thinking about it now, returning in the middle of the night and the rain to search for one piece of clothing was hardly rational. In that moment, however, it felt tremendously passionate and romantic.

Perhaps young people do not need much in order to set out. A little enthusiasm and a few friends willing to be silly with you are enough. We went because the mood took us, and returned completely satisfied.

And I should thank the little cat that accompanied us along the way.

A quiet street, tree, and building under warm yellow lights late at night — Once we knew the clothes were gone, we kept walking into the night.

In Tang Duo Ling: Reed Leaves Cover the Islet, Liu Guo wrote: “I wish to buy osmanthus and carry wine aboard, yet it can never be the same as travelling in youth.” I used to think those words belonged to an age far away from me. Last night, at nineteen, I began to understand them. Some nights are filled with rain, rushing about, and laughter while they are happening. Only after they have passed do you realise there can never be another one exactly like them.

I also remembered a line I copied into my notebook after reading Feng Jicai in high school—or at least this is how it remains in my memory: “Life is lost within life; the soul lives on within the soul.”

We never found the clothes.

But if I must say what I lost last night, it was probably only something new to wear. What remained was the four of us setting out at one in the morning, the Haihe River in the drizzle, a little cat, and a night at nineteen that life will never give us again.

Sitting beside the Haihe River as the bridge and city lights reflect across the water — There will never be another night like this at nineteen.