Returning to the dormitory from the cafeteria, the sky had already darkened completely.
Ruan Chaoxi took a hot shower and changed into comfortable pajamas, wrapping her damp long hair in a towel. Sitting at her desk with the newly received class schedule and student handbook spread out before her, her thoughts drifted somewhat.
Nine o’clock sharp.
The video call notification sounded precisely on time.
Ruan Chaoxi answered immediately, and Samia’s face appeared on the screen.
He seemed to still be in his office, though the lights were dimmed, his sharply defined face half-hidden in shadow, making his features appear even more profound.
He looked no different than usual, but Ruan Chaoxi inexplicably felt that the tightly wound string in his eyes loosened ever so slightly the moment he saw her.
“Miya brother,” she smiled at the screen, removing the towel and letting her damp hair cascade over her shoulders.
“Hmm,” Samia responded, his gaze lingering on her still-wet hair for a moment. “Dry your hair properly, be careful not to catch a cold.”
“I know, I’ll blow-dry it right away,” Ruan Chaoxi obediently agreed.
“Have you eaten? How’s the cafeteria?” He looked at her, his eyes carefully scanning her face as if confirming something.
“I have. The cafeteria was so crowded, you have to queue up yourself—it’s quite interesting,” she shared her fresh experience. “It’s just that the evenings in Beijing are much cooler than in Bangkok.”
“Hmm. Stay warm, remember to add layers.” Samia fell silent for a few seconds before asking, “That ‘peacock’ from this afternoon, did he bother you again later?”
“I ran into him again at the cafeteria. He insisted on treating me to a fancy dinner, but I refused,” she shrugged, her tone tinged with a hint of pride. “The look on his face was priceless.”
A flicker of coldness passed through Samia’s eyes, but seeing how decisively she had handled it and her unchanged demeanor, he didn’t press further, only emphasizing once more, “Keep your distance from him.”
“I know!” Ruan Chaoxi replied cheerfully, then eagerly began telling him about her newly acquainted classmates, mentioning Lu Yao’s longing for Thailand and her vague fear of Myanmar.
Samia listened attentively, occasionally responding briefly with a word or two, but mostly just quietly watching the lively expressions on her face as she spoke.
Watching the curious sparkle in her eyes about the new environment, listening to her cheerful tone as she described what he saw as trivial matters full of potential risks, the anxiety of wanting to bring her back to his side immediately and the deep-seated helplessness surged like an undercurrent, only to be forcibly suppressed by him.
The video call lasted about half an hour, with Ruan Chaoxi doing most of the talking and Samia mostly listening.
Finally, he glanced at the time and said in a deep voice, “It’s getting late, Xixi. Rest early and take good care of yourself.”
“I know, Miya brother, you too.” Ruan Chaoxi looked into his profound eyes on the screen and suddenly asked, “Over there… did everything go smoothly today?”
Samia seemed to pause slightly, then a faint trace of softness flickered in his eyes. “Same as usual. Everything is under control.”
He didn’t mention any specifics—that world was never something she needed to be exposed to.
“Hmm, goodnight, Miya brother.” Ruan Chaoxi nodded.
“Goodnight, Xixi. Tomorrow night at nine.”
Samia strictly adhered to his promise not to disturb her “freedom” during the day, while firmly holding onto his right to contact her every night.
After the video call ended, the calmness in his final gaze on the screen seemed to linger.Ruan Chaoxi held the slightly warm encrypted phone, the sense of drifting in a foreign land she had felt upon arrival now firmly anchored by this timely video call. It was like a gentle tug on a kite string, reminding her of where she came from.
Next, she video-called her parents in Bangkok.
Ruan Xingchen seemed to have been waiting for her, answering almost immediately.
“Xixi, are you settling into your dorm? What did you have for dinner? The autumn nights up north are cold—did you catch a chill?”
Ruan Xingchen’s barrage of questions was filled with concern, her eyes carefully studying her daughter on the screen as if searching for any sign of discomfort.
“Everything’s fine, Mom. The room is very warm.” Ruan Chaoxi turned the camera around, sweeping it across the room to show her. “See? It’s clean and quiet.”
“That’s good… My Xixi is really out there on her own now.” Ruan Xingchen’s eyes reddened slightly as she spoke, but she forced a smile. “Make sure to eat well, and don’t let yourself get too cold…”
Ruan Chaoxi listened patiently, responding to each point in turn.
Mo Xiaohan didn’t say much, only asking if she had encountered any unsolvable problems and whether she was adapting to the new environment.
Upon hearing that everything was going smoothly, he nodded and advised, “Besides studying, you can learn more about the local culture, but remember to keep a balance. You’re there to experience, not to assimilate.”
“Understood, Dad.”
After more than twenty minutes of conversation, the call ended amid her parents’ repeated reminders.
She then sent a brief text to her brother, Mo Jinchen, to let him know she was safe. Her brother was likely “handling business” somewhere again, as he didn’t reply.
Setting down her phone, the dorm room fell into complete silence. Only the occasional sounds of washing, laughter from other rooms in the building, and the faint, distant hum of traffic outside the window remained.
This solitude, tinged with unfamiliar loneliness, was entirely different from the quiet at home—a silence surrounded by countless people yet feeling absolutely secure.
Ruan Chaoxi turned off the last light in the room and lay down on the slightly firm bed, which felt a little too hard for her. Gazing at the unfamiliar ceiling, she reflected on the day’s events.
It had been new and somewhat exhausting, carrying a hint of the loneliness that comes with being in a foreign land. Yet, more than anything, there was a faint anticipation for the “ordinary student” life that was about to officially begin.
Only the subtle longing that arose when she thought of Samia was tinged with a faint, lingering melancholy she hadn’t yet fully understood.
Her first day alone in Jing City had come to an end.