Jiang Wen wasn’t someone who showed emotion easily; aside from when drunk, he rarely bared his feelings for her honestly.
The more casually he spoke, the more it made one’s heart ache.
After a few seconds of silence, Feng Ning asked, “Where did you learn such melodramatic lines?”
Jiang Wen: “…”
Whatever wistful, tender atmosphere there had been was instantly and thoroughly destroyed by her.
Jiang Wen brushed off her hand, stood up, and walked ahead on his own.
Feng Ning hurriedly grabbed the leash and ran to catch up with him. “Hey hey, wait for me, why are you angry again, sorry sorry, I was joking.”
……
……
Time flew by. New Year came early this year, and the company had already gone on break by mid-January.
In previous years, Feng Ning would only go back to Nan City on New Year’s Eve, to sweep Qi Lan’s grave and pay New Year’s visits to the households on Yujiang Lane, then return to Shanghai.
This year the circumstances were special, and Feng Ning specifically asked Jiang Wen about his schedule over WeChat.
After a while, someone added her, with the note: [Ryan’s Assistant]
Feng Ning was puzzled for a moment, but accepted the friend request.
The other party greeted her, calling her “boss’s wife,” then sent over three Excel spreadsheets in a row.
Baffled, Feng Ning clicked through them one by one, and found they were, in fact, entirely full of Jiang Wen’s schedule for this period.
After looking for a while, she was both speechless and amused, and went to find Jiang Wen on WeChat.
Ning: [Why did you have your assistant send me this?]
61nfiawJ: [Didn’t you ask about my schedule?]
Ning: […it didn’t need to be this detailed]
61nfiawJ: [?]
Ning: [People are going to think your girlfriend is a control freak]
61nfiawJ: [.]
Feng Ning rarely got sick since childhood. She didn’t know which day she’d caught a chill, but her head began splitting with pain and her nose got stuffy. After dragging on for a few days, it turned into a serious cold.
After the two returned to Nan City, Jiang Wen had a lot going on at home, with no fewer social obligations than in Shanghai.
Feng Ning’s illness hit like a landslide—she stayed cured up at home for two full days, too lethargic to move. Shuang Yao brought her meals at noon and in the evening. Whenever Jiang Wen wanted to come see her, she refused every time.
In the evening, she got a call from him. “What are you doing?”
Feng Ning made a weak, whiny sound, listless. “Sleeping.”
“At home?”
Hearing his voice, her mind cleared up a little; she cleared her throat. “Yes.”
“I’ll come pick you up.”
Feng Ning refused. “Don’t come, if we talk for a bit I’ll pass my cold on to you.”
“So you’re back in Nan City and just don’t plan on seeing me?”
Feng Ning, nose blocked, spoke thickly. “That’s not it… I’ve had a bad cold these past few days, can’t you tell from my voice?”
“Not even for a quick meeting?”
With Jiang Wen putting it that way, how could she refuse? Feng Ning sighed, climbed out of bed. “Fine fine, let me shower and get ready, it’ll take about an hour or so.”
After hanging up, she got out of bed, pulled open the curtains—the sky outside had dimmed slightly.
Feng Ning poured herself a glass of water, pulled open the drawer, popped out two pills and swallowed them.
Just then Shuang Yao pushed the door open, carrying a thermos. “Dad sent over today’s food for you.”
Feng Ning nodded, gesturing with her chin. “Okay, just put it there.”
Seeing her take the pills, Shuang Yao thought nothing of it, walked over. “How long has this cold been going on, still not better?”
Feng Ning casually set the pills down. “Ugh, this bout came on fierce, caught me off guard too.”
“Did you take the wrong cold medicine?” Shuang Yao was suspicious. “Let me see what you’re taking.”
Shuang Yao reached for the medicine, but Feng Ning snatched it away first. Shuang Yao’s hand paused in midair, stunned for a moment. “What are you doing? I just want to see what cold medicine you’re taking, why are you being so jumpy?”
Feng Ning held it herself and read it aloud for Shuang Yao: “Clears heat, detoxifies, treats sore throat—I didn’t get it wrong, this is the one.”
“……”
Shuang Yao said nothing.
Feng Ning glanced at her again. “What?”
Though a bit suspicious, Shuang Yao didn’t think too much of it, nodding. “Alright then, don’t take medicine carelessly.”
Feng Ning, impatient, said, “I know, stop nagging, okay? What else would I be taking carelessly. I still need to go out on a date later, hurry up and head home.”
Shuang Yao laughed slyly. “Oh, sick like this and still going to accompany Jiang Wen?”
“Two days without seeing him and his glass heart acts up.”
Shuang Yao hissed. “The way you say that, why does it sound like bragging?”
Smiling, Feng Ning began putting up her hair.
“Right, how are you and Jiang Wen doing now?”
Feng Ning pulled open the closet, comparing clothes in the mirror. “Us? Pretty good.”
Shuang Yao was a bit curious. “No awkwardness? It’s been so many years, it’s basically like you two are starting over from strangers, right?”
Feng Ning turned, holding a red sweater in her left hand and a white one in her right, showing them to Shuang Yao one by one. “Which one?”
“The white one, gentler.”
“OK.”
Feng Ning changed clothes while answering her question. “It doesn’t feel unfamiliar at all. Even though we’ve both changed a lot, being together feels natural.” She paused. “I think I’m happy, like I’m floating. But honestly, I still don’t have much sense of it being real.”
“What do you mean, not real?”
“I don’t know.” Feng Ning smiled. “Afraid it’s all my own illusion, maybe?”
Shuang Yao sighed. “So what’s your next step, any plans?” Feng Ning answered casually: “None. Enjoy the wine while it’s here today, why think so far ahead?”
Shuang Yao was thoroughly baffled. “Listen to yourself, what kind of player’s manifesto is that?! What do you mean, enjoy the wine while it’s here, are you planning to have your fun and then just walk away?”
Feng Ning was very composed. “‘Enjoy the wine while it’s here’ means Jiang Wen is Feng Ning’s winter-limited happiness.”
Shuang Yao repeated it. “Winter. Limited. Happiness?”
Feng Ning spoke as if telling an inconsequential joke, though her tone was calm. “Right, I don’t want to think about the future, I only know that I’m happy right now, and that’s enough.”
Earlier at the park, when Jiang Wen brought up the topic of “the end” with her, Feng Ning had felt ashamed, while also feeling that he’d completely exceeded her expectations—she hadn’t known how to respond. She couldn’t be as resolute as him, resolute that this time would be their ending. Knowing it would disappoint Jiang Wen, she’d still skillfully sidestepped the topic.
Feng Ning sat down at the vanity mirror. “The fact that I can still date Jiang Wen right now already feels like winning the lottery. Anything further, I don’t want to think about for now.”
Shuang Yao: “I don’t get how you think.”
“Do you think Jiang Wen and I are suited to each other?” Feng Ning turned to look at her.
This actually stumped Shuang Yao. After a long think, she answered, “You like him this much, he likes you this much, what’s not suited about that?”
Feng Ning turned back around, rolling up her sleeve, starting to apply concealer to her arm. “Different concepts.”
Feng Ning finished getting ready, pulled on a mask, put on a pair of sheepskin ankle boots, and headed out.
The wind today was strong, cutting like a knife, but luckily she was dressed warmly. Feng Ning pulled her hood up, still shivering a bit from the cold.
She walked to the agreed spot, a secluded corner by the roadside.
She sniffled, breathing in a cold, crisp breath of air. The stuffiness in her nose eased a bit.
Ever since returning to Nan City, Jiang Wen’s style had noticeably become more ostentatious. Feng Ning walked a circle around his car, shaking her head, thinking to herself: honestly, this is even flashier than Min Yueyue’s Maserati.
She pulled open the car door and got in, sitting sideways. She wore a mask, her head framed by the hood of her down jacket, the ring of fur nearly burying her whole face.
Like an Eskimo.
Jiang Wen, apparently having just rushed over from some banquet or dinner party, was dressed head to toe, his forehead hair swept fully back. His handsome features were on full display, impossible not to stare at.
Feng Ning took off her hood, turned her head, and asked in surprise, “Sir, you’re this handsome and you’re still out here driving for a rideshare app?”
Jiang Wen: “…”
Feng Ning smiled delightedly. “Alright, drive on, sir, don’t just space out, I’ve got a date to rush to.”
Jiang Wen didn’t play along with her act, brow slightly furrowed. “Is something wrong with you.”
Feng Ning pouted, made a “tsk” sound. “You’re no fun.” Jiang Wen scoffed coldly.
The car was warm inside; Feng Ning took off her scarf too, then hesitated. “Did you take some kind of stimulant? Why’s your temper so bad?”
Hearing her say this, Jiang Wen started tallying grievances: “You’ve been back two days, why didn’t you look for me?”
His gaze was like two icicles, silently poking at her. “If I don’t seek you out, you weren’t going to seek me out either?”
Feng Ning studied his expression, fingers rubbing her nose. “Wasn’t I sick? Right now a cold could practically kill someone. If not for fear of passing it to you, why wouldn’t I want to see you?”
A few days without seeing each other, and the moment they met she was hit with a lecture.
Feng Ning thought to herself, how did her standing get so low all of a sudden?
Jiang Wen hadn’t originally meant to sound like a grieving wife interrogating her—but the psychological shadow from their breakup years ago hadn’t faded, and now that Feng Ning was back in familiar territory, she’d reverted to her old ways.
Feng Ning really was his nemesis, fated to torment him.
Jiang Wen was thoroughly exasperated by her.
Annoyed at her, and annoyed at himself. He picked up his lighter, pushed open the car door, and went off to smoke at a distance.
After finishing a cigarette, Jiang Wen turned around and saw Feng Ning standing not far away, hands behind her back.
She walked over. “Still angry?”
Jiang Wen said nothing.
Feng Ning brought her hands out from behind her back. She held up a bundle of white and yellow wintersweet blossoms, offering them to him.
He stared at her for a good while before taking them.
Feng Ning said, as if claiming credit, “I just stole these from the old man next door.”
“Take off your mask.”
Jiang Wen found it bothersome.
Feng Ning explained, “I have a bad cold.”
Jiang Wen was unmoved. “Take it off.”
Feng Ning obediently complied. “Off, off, there, happy?”
She leaned in happily, sniffing the flowers she’d just stolen. “Smells nice.”
Suddenly, Jiang Wen reached out and covered Feng Ning’s eyes with one hand.
Not knowing what he was up to, Feng Ning tilted her lips up, smiling. “Not angry anymore?”
Jiang Wen didn’t want to meet her eyes like that.
The way she looked at him like that, all his anger evaporated.
No one was around.
Feng Ning stumbled a couple steps as Jiang Wen pulled her into a nearby dead-end alley.
The flowers in her hand fell to the ground.
His breath carried the scent of mint and nicotine. Jiang Wen leaned in slightly, only to have Feng Ning quickly cover his mouth with her hand. “I have a cold.”
Jiang Wen lowered his head, level with her gaze. “Are you deliberately trying to make me angry?”
Feng Ning, pressed against the wall, admitted her fault very obediently: “I was wrong, I’m sorry.”
His hands braced against the wall on either side of her ears; unable to hold back any longer, he sucked at her neck for a while.
“Kiss me.”
Jiang Wen ordered her.