Ah Heng froze, taking a moment to react, her heart beating extremely fast, finding it hard to breathe, suddenly breaking into coughs.

Yan Xi set her down, fetched hot water, and handed it to her with a full smile.

Ah Heng was confused, pinching her face, muttering to herself: “Doesn’t hurt, must be dreaming.”

She already knew her cold was very severe, just felt Yan Xi had entered her dream. Looking at him, her heart filled with inexplicable joy. She held his hand, tugged it gently, then caressed his cheeks, so soft.

Hehe.

Ah Heng smiled, her heart full of words she wanted to say, but not knowing where to begin, she could only look at him, her smile endlessly gentle.

Yan Xi looked at her seriously, his expression moved.

Ah Heng sighed softly: “Ah, clearly, I miss you, Yan Xi.” She lowered her head, her eyes reddening.

That youth spoke, his voice hoarse from long disuse: “Ah Heng…”

Ah Heng rubbed her brow, smiling: “Yan Xi, don’t call my name, like this… when I wake up, I won’t be used to it.”

Although she wanted to hear it, she would rather not hear it.

She had always tried hard, wanting to spend a lifetime peacefully and happily with the childlike Yan Xi. If in this life, she dared to dream of Yan Xi calling her name, even if it was just greed in a dream, she would face heaven’s punishment.

Ah Heng thought for a moment, pushed away his hand, and closed her eyes, her expression fading: “You should… quickly… go, don’t come to my dreams anymore.”

Her lips tasted bitter, like childhood medicine—remembering it now, it was hard to drink.

Beside her remained his faint breathing, clear and fresh, carrying the thin coldness of winter snow from outside.

It hadn’t dispersed.

She opened her eyes. That youth looked at her, stepped back many steps, standing far away, his eyes rippling like tender green tea leaves swirling in a cup.

“Ah Heng, I want to call your name like this. In this half-life, I’ve never wanted to call someone’s name so much. I don’t understand what meaning there is in such an embarrassing, deceptive self-returning, but I’ve returned because I’ve returned. Perhaps the original intention was simply to tell you, that when you were thinking of Yan Xi, Yan Xi was also thinking of you.”

His expression was calm, looking down from above.

The slowly exhaled breath was like an electric current, instantly breaking her eardrums.

Then, complete collapse.

She cried, holding back strongly, unable even to breathe smoothly: “Yan Xi…”

She stretched out her arm, and bit down hard until it bled, pain returning to her cold-dulled senses.

So, it wasn’t a dream.

She walked to his front and forcefully knocked him down onto the carpet, her breath buried in the white fleece, her chin almost rubbing into his neck, long-suppressed grievances stirring up.

Yan Xi was at a loss, suffering this sudden attack, his back somewhat painful, but hearing her heartbeat beating together with his, tingling, ultimately powerlessly dropping his arms, silently gazing at the ceiling.

Slowly falling were tears.

He didn’t even know why he was crying, just that something in his chest, burning hot, didn’t know how to handle.

“Yan Xi, I hate you.” Ah Heng gritted her teeth, smelling the sweet milk scent on him, mumbling, almost crying.

Yan Xi’s thin body trembled slightly but ultimately said nothing.

“Next time, if you dare get sick again, roll as far away as you can, don’t let me find you.”

He was stunned, gently closed his big eyes, corners of his mouth slightly curved, a faint heart shape, speaking seriously: “I will.”

“Why can’t you say you’ll never get sick again!” Ah Heng ground her teeth.

The youth stretched out his long arms, and held her tight, his back painful and itchy, unbearable: “Alright, I’ll never get sick again.”

Such a calm tone, like discussing the weather.

Her voice was muffled, nasal: “What if you’re lying?” After asking, she felt it inappropriate, the tone too intimate, too resentful.

Yan Xi smiled: “Ah Heng, I generally don’t lie to people.”

Ah Heng nodded, mumbling nasally: “Yes, when you lie to people, you’re generally not human.”

Her cold was very severe, her whole body weak, yet somehow she had just managed to knock Yan Xi down—it was truly inconceivable.

“Cough, Yan Xi, does your back hurt…”

She blushed, rationality returning, embarrassedly counting her fingers in her heart.

Yan Xi smiled mischievously: “Daughter, I can pounce on you, let you feel a sudden alien storm.”

Ah Heng coughed violently, speaking seriously: “I’m sick now, I’m a patient, you must be considerate!”

Yan Xi’s big eyes reflected Ah Heng, smiling, carrying indulgence and teasing: “When I was sick, was I as unreasonable as you?”

Ah Heng squinted, looking at him: “Don’t you remember what you were like when you were sick?”

Yan Xi seemed to remember something, his fair face reddening slightly, answering vaguely: “Except for some fragments, I don’t remember most of it.”

So… he doesn’t remember…

“Is that so.” Ah Heng stood up, smiling, pulling him up, “It’s good that you don’t remember.”

If he remembered, knowing that pledge of growing old together, “no sons, no daughters, no rocking chair, no whole world, just one person,” how awkward would Yan Xi feel…

The marriage proposal she had spoken of so seriously and nervously suddenly felt like the Little Mermaid turning into foam, beautiful yet ultimately empty.

Everything seemed to return to a year ago.

Well, perhaps, nothing had ever happened.

Anyway, Yan Xi, welcome home.

Yan Xi had recovered—Dr. Zheng concluded, his eyes very bright. He smiled, patting Yan Xi’s shoulder: “Must have been very difficult, breaking free from your other self.”

Yan Xi glanced sideways: “That wasn’t difficult, just felt it was tough when you guys tied me up for injections every time.”

Dr. Zheng sweated: “Didn’t Ah Heng say you don’t remember most things?”

Yan Xi waved his hand: “I don’t know why, but I remember this part particularly clearly.”

Dr. Zheng: “…”

Seeing Yan Xi, Xin Dayi just grinned foolishly: “Beautiful one, say something.”

Yan Xi rolled his eyes: “Auntie Flow.”

Xin Dayi burst into tears, throwing himself at Yan Xi, crying: “Mother’s milk, well said! Say it a few more times!”

Yan Xi cursed “You’ve gone crazy again, how are you still so stupid at eighteen,” but his eyes showed tenderness and indulgence.

Xin Dayi just grinned foolishly, his eyes sparkling.

Yan Xi’s eyes reddened: “Xin Dayi, you roll away, I just shed a tank of salt water in front of my daughter, don’t provoke me again.”

Behind them, Chen Juan smiled silently like blooming flowers, embracing both: “Yan Xi, welcome back.”

Even if you hadn’t come back, the sun would still rise from the east, and the earth would still turn, but indeed, it was somewhat lonely.

Yan Xi smiled, his big eyes flowing with warm light, extraordinarily proud: “Hey hey, I knew you couldn’t live without me. Without your young master, even the stars wouldn’t shine, right?”

Suddenly remembering something, Yan Xi raised his eyebrows: “Dayi, Rou Si, today you guys treat your brother to a meal.”

Xin Dayi frowned: “Why should we? When you were sick we worried day and night, if anything you should treat us.”

Yan Xi smiled insincerely: “Because you bullied my daughter while I was sick! Let me tell you, I’m back now, we’ll settle old and new accounts together.”

Chen Juan lifted his phoenix eyes: “What’s that got to do with me? I was very good to Ah Heng, checking on her every day.”

Yan Xi slapped the table, spittle flying: “You took advantage while I was seriously ill, sneaking in to seduce my daughter, and you dare say you did nothing wrong?”

Rou Si’s lips twitched: “Brother Yan, you weren’t pretending to be sick, were you?”

Everything big and small, detailed and complete, remembering so clearly—why would Ah Heng say he didn’t remember things from when he was sick?

Those involved are blind to their situation.

Being sick wasn’t the same as losing memory, silly Ah Heng.

When the Wen family saw Yan Xi recovered, they were teary-eyed, setting off several strings of firecrackers to drive away the bad luck.

Bang bang bang, boom.

Si Wan, home for winter break, stood outside the house door, sweating from being startled by the firecrackers.

It’s not New Year yet…

He looked up, in the misty air was a beautiful person, leaning against the doorframe, gazing at a certain spot, his eyes focused and gentle.

He was stunned, following that person’s gaze, and saw the black-haired, black-eyed girl crouching not far away, seriously covering her ears, clear as mountain waters. Something flashed quickly through Si Wan’s mind, his luggage slipping from his hand, and falling heavily to the ground.

The youth leaning against the doorframe saw him, smiling: “Si Wan, you’re back.” For a whole year, he hadn’t called him Si Wan once.

Si Wan climbed the steps, staring at this youth. Still thin, still proud, still lively, when smiling, still like a child who wouldn’t grow up.

“Yan Xi?” He hesitated, trying to call his name, his whole body trembling, unable to move, eyes blurring, yet suddenly doubting why he had been willing to leave him.

Yan Xi stood straight, calmly spreading a smile: “Auntie has been talking about you, wondering why you haven’t come back.”

He, though vaguely familiar in his features, yet seemed exactly like a stranger.

Si Wan stepped forward, and Yan Xi raised his eyebrows, watching him impassively.

Ah Heng stood far away, squinting her eyes—in the mist, these two standing together were truly beautiful.

She sighed, feeling herself overthinking, always uncontrollably thinking about things beyond her control.

Whether Si Wan liked Yan Xi or not, was it her decision? Liking him in the past, liking him now, perhaps continuing to like him in the future—what use was there in thinking so much about it?

Could she tell Si Wan don’t like Yan Xi, you’re a man, you don’t match him at all?

Rather than telling Si Wan, she might as well tell herself.

Wen Heng, doesn’t like Yan Xi, so what if you’re a woman, does being a woman make you match him?

Si Wan seemed to have many things to say, though quietly, but didn’t know where to begin, just looking at Yan Xi, his gaze deep and complex.

Yan Xi’s thoughts turned a thousand times, his expression softening, smiling as he patted his shoulder: “Is university fun? Are there many pretty girls?”

Si Wan perfunctorily: “Mm.”

Yan Xi spoke meaningfully, stroking his non-existent beard: “Young man, anyone you like?”

Si Wan quietly looked at Yan Xi’s features, so beautiful, but hadn’t heard clearly what he asked: “Mm.”

Yan Xi smiled slyly: “You dare say that, watch out for Lin Wanwan fighting you to the death!”

Si Wan smiled, lowered his head, putting his hands in his windbreaker pockets, unhurried: “I broke up with her long ago.”

Yan Xi was stunned, some fragmented scenes floating in his mind, afraid of touching his childhood friend’s sore spot, he coughed: “Well, as they say, there are plenty of fish in the sea.”

Si Wan said softly: “Have you found your fish?”

Yan Xi smiled: “What did you say? I didn’t hear clearly.”

Si Wan lifted his head, sunlight warming his eyes, two large dimples at his lips: “Nothing, I said, Yan Xi, come to Q University with me.”

Yan Xi continued smiling: “You know my grades, having lost a year, Q University is impossible.”

Si Wan frowned: “Do you have to take the exam this year? Why not wait a while, after all, so much knowledge…”

Yan Xi put his hands behind his head, answering vaguely: “Without some familiar people, high school would be very boring, Auntie Flow, Rou Si, Little Bian, Er Pang, Da Mao…”

Si Wan murmured, Dayi, Chen Juan, listing everyone in the class, mentioning everyone, speaking of everyone, yet missing just one.

Was it too unimportant to forget, or too important to bear mentioning?

Si Wan squinted: “Yan Xi, why did your illness suddenly get better?”

Yan Xi reached out, somewhat laboriously trying to unwrap his scarf, but was glared at—not far away, a girl staring fixedly at his hand. He sheepishly lowered his hand: “Does it seem sudden? I’ve been trying hard to fight with Pinocchio all along.”

The youth thought for a moment, getting more excited as he spoke, spittle flying: “That guy kept crying about his nose hurting, completely ruining your young master’s elegant and beautiful image. I’m naturally kind-hearted and thought about letting ‘him’ be, but ‘he’ was too weak, couldn’t take a beating, and everyone strongly called for me to return, so I came back.”

Si Wan smiled, slightly lifting his chin, carrying understanding and faint sorrow.

Which everyone? Who exactly called “Yan Xi, Yan Xi” tirelessly every day, never forgetting even in dreams, earnestly, warmly, seriously?

He had once been defeated by his sister, fleeing in disgrace.

That girl had once been extremely busy until exhausted, calling Yan Xi even in her dreams.

Yan Xi, ah Yan Xi…

Then, he watched with his own eyes as that youth swinging his ring puzzle forgot to swing it, gently kneeling beside her, smiling innocently, tilting his head, lightly, devoutly kissing her eyelid.

He watched with his own eyes as that youth, propping his chin, opening and closing his mouth, making babbling sounds unable to produce voice, practicing continuously, so hard and difficult, just two words.

Ah Heng.