My steps on the way home were light. I hummed as I splashed through puddles, as if even Shanghai’s endless rain could do nothing to extinguish my excitement.

So I have to write something more for today.

Yes, in the end I gave up the advance screening and gathered instead with the brothers and sisters my father had visited before. As I headed out that morning, talking with my parents on the phone, I noticed someone emerge from the room next door with a backpack and look around. At that exact moment, a message from Q appeared on my phone: “I’m out.” I moved in with complete confidence: Good morning, Q!

I have described our connection before, but meeting offline for the first time left both of us slightly reserved. (Did… did it?) I immediately handed him the paper bag I had picked up at the Puzzle Association recruitment fair. Inside were a puzzle poster from the event—another TPAPWRAPA “Best ‘White Bird Crossing the Riverbank’ Award” for the collection—a CCBC 1314 pin, and the final prize from Yiqingyuan, the “Puzzle Calendar.” Q’s reaction to the pin: “I was going to buy this for you, but when I opened the Taobao store, the very first thing I saw was your review.” As for the calendar, if Q happens to read this: the official account of the same name posts hints for each day’s puzzle. When I first received it, I enthusiastically assembled each date from scratch. Later, I gradually degenerated into opening the account, finding the easy solution, and copying the answer. My true nature is that of a lazy dog after all, haha.

And Q’s gift was… wait. He pulled out a stack of paper. Was that a CCBC 16 poster? No, it looked more like a mind map. (A reminder to study? Interesting.) Why was it STOCK-PILE, a puzzle from TMMT 2025?!

Q: I thought it over. Printing another puzzle, like a crossword, would not have meant much. Reactor is randomized, so in the end I chose this one.

Me: Oh no. Back then I understood the rules and immediately left to work on RPG, another puzzle. I feel rather unworthy of this gift.

There was more: the P&KU merchandise pin he had shown off in the group ages ago! It featured the blonde girl and the Observer. (They even make a matching pair. Excellent. I consume.) And there was a blind-draw holographic (?) ticket from Frieren. Now I had no choice but to hurry up and watch the anime.

Using breakfast as our excuse, we walked and talked about Puzzle this and Hunt that, and the atmosphere quickly relaxed. We agreed to meet again for lunch, then parted outside McDonald’s—remember that M. Having abandoned McCafé, I hurried toward the metro. There were people waiting for me on this Sunday.

Sister RC was extraordinarily kind. She came all the way to the metro station early in the morning to meet me and bought me a Luckin coffee—McDonald’s: so love really does disappear—to sustain me through this crowded day. Today’s notes went into Boring Notes 4, becoming the second-to-last piece of writing that notebook will hold. When the gathering ended, everyone welcomed me, and I once again shared the story I have told so many times. Yet every telling leaves me with a completely different feeling. This one did too.

After the group discussion, I was delighted to learn that Sister RC was willing to drive me to the restaurant where Q and the others were eating. Thank you again! (Though she probably will never see this.) On the way, we talked about what had happened yesterday. Amid the guilt, I was also grateful that so many good people around me were willing to share the consequences of my carelessness. I, meanwhile, wait until disaster is directly in front of me before attempting to handle it—which is why I forever call myself a deadline warrior. After listening, she advised me to begin making plans. Only then, she said, could I truly do the things I wanted to do well. A change like that will not happen overnight, though.

In any case, after saying goodbye to Sister RC, I entered the restaurant with considerable anxiety over the words “Hunan cuisine.” (I cannot eat spicy food, noooo.) Three people were already seated. I was surprised: “Didn’t Q say he was coming alone?” Conversation revealed that one was K&T, a fellow fan from Jiangxi whom I had met at yesterday’s screening. (I shortened his QQ name. Hopefully I am allowed to call him that.) The other had used the movie ticket I had been forced to give up. I was comforted that the seat had not gone empty, and excited to meet more new people.

After I sat down, Circle Bro—his QQ avatar is literally a ⭕—handed me a bag containing materials from today’s screening. He said he hoped they might make up for what I had missed.

As we ate, the conversation wandered everywhere. Anime: opinions on Mujica. At last, someone else who liked how episode 11 was handled instead of repeating the “sakisakisaki + crawling” meme. I could cry. The Dragon Maid movie that morning: I was the only one who had not seen it and was recommended it from every direction. Personal circumstances: mostly a conversation between Circle Bro and me, to be continued later. Puzzle hunts: when Circle Bro asked what puzzle best represented high difficulty, Q immediately brought out “Six Wives,” previously used in an ARG group event. (On that day, Zhuge Tianyao remembered the terror of being ruled by cryptics.) And, of course, the afternoon plans.

I learned that there would be a creator meet-and-greet that afternoon. Only Q had managed to get a ticket, but he had decided to give his place to “someone who needed it more.” Circle Bro and his absent friend had prepared couplets and other gifts but had been unable to present them during the screening. I looked at the materials in the plastic bag beside me and thought, from the bottom of my heart, how wonderful it was to meet people like these.

After settling the bill—splitting the check is civilization—we took a taxi to Iris Bookstore for the meet-and-greet. Traffic crawled, but thankfully we were not late. Circle Bro showed his ticket and entered, while the three of us remained outside guarding the luggage and occasionally crept toward the folding screen to spy on the room. (Naturally, we could see nothing.) During that time, I showed Q some puzzles from the earlier Yiqingyuan event in Beijing. There is still one I have never solved, and it genuinely is not because I am bad. Then I noticed that GMHS was about to close.

I checked the route. The metro would get me there with barely a second to spare. My deadline-warrior soul burst into flame, and I decided… to ask customer service whether I could refund the ticket.

It was rather funny. The main reason I came to Shanghai in the first place was this model exhibition, with the side goal of acquiring some event-exclusive item. Once I learned that a classmate would attend too, I imagined meeting at the show. Yet now the priorities seemed completely reversed, haha. My honest first instinct was to refund the ticket rather than rush over. This time felt too precious: getting along so naturally with people who had been complete strangers one day earlier, talking freely with someone I had never spoken to before. Mm. And then customer service said no refunds.

…Well, I had already spent the money. I had to go. A utilitarian mindset triumphed over human feeling in the end. (Not really.) I took out my nearly dead phone and sent Circle Bro a message inside the venue: “Good luck. Leave no regrets. /heart” Then I prepared to say goodbye to Q, who had to leave Shanghai that afternoon.

Q: Before we part, let’s do something ridiculous.

Me: You really want to do that?

Earlier, we had joked that meeting in person would finally let us perform the submission for The Transmission, a TMMT 2025 puzzle that had held us up forever. It required teams to “speak” an alien language in various ways and included an example using body language. Looking at the abstract poses in the comic, I had asked: “We’re doing this? Right here?”

And so, as the photo may show, two grown men performed contemporary art in the middle of a bookstore. This was our hot-blooded combination attack, aaaaaah! (If something feels embarrassing, make enough noise to drown the embarrassment out.) One thing is certain: it became an unforgettable memory.

Then I charged through the rain on a shared bicycle and crossed into GMHS at the final possible moment. Most of the crowd had already gone, and the brands were packing their booths away. With the last of my battery, I took as many photos as possible, then went door to door asking, “Is there anything left to buy?” The answer was almost always: “You came too late.”

My event exclusives, noooo… Whatever. Paying an extra hundred yuan for a different color was never worth it anyway. Hmph.

I still harvested a large quantity of freebies! One booth even had two blind-box phone stands for sale. Taking pity on me—and on the fact that my WeChat balance was empty because it had all gone toward movie tickets—they mercifully gave me both. My excitement shot through the roof; it felt as though half the rainwater on me evaporated instantly. Finally, in front of an enormous poster listing the entire product lineup, I completed a “photo transaction” with some strangers. “Hello, would you like me to take a picture for you? Haha, actually, could you take one for me too?” Proof that I had been there.

Home for a hot shower!

Q and K&T took trains home that afternoon, so only Circle Bro and I remained for the evening team-building. To thank me for giving him the meet-and-greet ticket—even though I could not have used it under any circumstances—he offered to take me to The Wild Goose Lake. As Circle Bro put it, the entire film is essentially one underworld faction devouring another in a third-tier city twenty years ago. I was struck by how perfectly the audience’s emotions synchronized with the protagonist’s; every shadow and imagined threat made us jump.

Before leaving the cinema, I watched him hand his printed freebies one by one to people who had seen the same film and marveled at his courage. When we discussed it later, I asked where that courage came from. He answered: “When you take a shot on the field, do you listen to what the spectators are saying?” That must be what love for something looks like.

That night we sought refuge beneath the Golden Arches and talked for a long time. When he learned that I was going to study in the United States, he offered a wealth of valuable advice and personal experience as someone who had studied there independently. The details may touch on private matters, so I will not post them. When we finally parted, we said: we absolutely have to meet again.

Afterward, I talked with Q about the day. It truly felt like a dream. I had made no plans whatsoever, yet somehow that very lack of planning produced the miracle of all these encounters.

We absolutely have to meet again, everyone.