After Christmas, the weather seemed to grow even colder.

Days were overcast, nights were long and dark—this winter’s endless length.

In the days that followed, Chen Qingwu didn’t know how she got through them.

The longing to see him and the pain of being unable to meet were equally intense. She only filled her time from morning to night with work, not allowing herself a moment’s leisure to think about that difficult choice.

Every day she stayed up very late, exhausted to the limit, collapsing into sleep, then repeating it all the next day.

The “Pearl Gathering Project” exhibition was still progressing steadily.

Yao-ge, one of the project leaders and Chen Qingwu’s senior, was coming to East City to inspect the exhibition venue, so Chen Qingwu arranged to have dinner with him.

They had a coordination group chat with both Yao-ge and Mai Xunwen in it. Whenever there was progress, Yao-ge would update it in the group.

Chen Qingwu would sometimes proactively @ Yao-ge to inquire about progress, to set Mai Xunwen’s mind at ease.

Because he knew Chen Qingwu was very invested in this matter, Yao-ge invited her to inspect the gallery together.

The exhibition venue was at a certain art museum in East City. An oil painting exhibition was currently being held there. After the New Year, when the oil painting exhibits were removed, the “Pearl Gathering Project” exhibits would be delivered successively.

Chen Qingwu and Yao-ge arranged to meet at the museum entrance. After meeting and briefly exchanging pleasantries, Yao-ge handed Chen Qingwu a document folder.

Opening it, she was extremely delighted.

Inside were photos of works by Ms. Zhuang Shiying that would be exhibited this time, basically covering most stages of her life.

This was also thanks to Mai Xunwen’s extensive efforts. Zhuang Shiying’s works were scattered among friends and relatives. Re-collecting them had taken much time and energy.

While flipping through the photos, Chen Qingwu asked with a smile, “Have all the exhibits already arrived in the country?”

“Yes, so I took photos at the first opportunity.”

“Thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing, just what I should do.”

The two walked inside together. Yao-ge said, “But there’s still some regret.”

“What do you mean?”

“A couple days ago, Mai Xunwen just contacted me, saying he had collected another teacup—a work from Teacher Zhuang’s later years, particularly beautiful. But the exhibition opens in March. Going through regular procedures now won’t make it in time. We can only see if it can catch the second showing in North City in July.”

This exhibition was currently planned to show in East City from March to June, in North City from July to October, and afterward, depending on feedback, they would decide whether to have touring exhibitions in other cities.

“Do you have pictures?”

Yao-ge found the picture and sent it to Chen Qingwu.

It was an enamel-colored bell-shaped cup—a rare bright piece among Zhuang Shiying’s works. But because the color coordination was appropriate, it was consistent with her usual style.

Chen Qingwu couldn’t help but exclaim that it was truly a fine work.

Yao-ge sighed. “So it’s particularly regrettable.”

Chen Qingwu pondered. “Would it be feasible to bring it back personally?”

“You mean…”

“I could fly over to get it.”

“Of course that would work!” Yao-ge was very excited. “But at the latest by mid-February—after that we still need to set up the exhibition. Any later and it’ll be too late…”

The two discussed briefly. Chen Qingwu would first confirm her itinerary, while Yao-ge would go back to prepare insurance materials and see if he could find a staff member to accompany Chen Qingwu on the trip.

But things didn’t go as smoothly as Chen Qingwu anticipated.

Her US visa had been obtained when she was sixteen on a tourist trip, and very unfortunately, it had just expired. Therefore, she could only refill the visa application form and schedule an interview appointment.

Chen Qingwu had originally planned to stay in East City for the New Year’s holiday, but to prepare interview materials in advance, she had no choice but to make a trip home.

When she arrived home at noon, both Chen Suiliang and Liao Shuman were out. The housekeeper said they had each gone out for social engagements.

Chen Qingwu ate by herself and went to the study to prepare documents. Just as she was copying the property deed, Liao Shuman returned.

Chen Qingwu greeted her. Liao Shuman responded and was about to leave when her gaze paused on Chen Qingwu’s face for a moment, and she stopped.

Hearing footsteps walking toward her, Chen Qingwu looked up at Liao Shuman.

“Are you sick? Why do you look so pale?” Liao Shuman asked.

“No… I’ve probably just been staying up late a lot recently.”

“What work is worth staying up late for? Your health is important. Don’t get sick again.”

Chen Qingwu said “mm-hmm” and took out the still slightly warm paper from the printer.

Liao Shuman’s gaze remained fixed on her face, with some analytical intent.

Chen Qingwu was somewhat puzzled. She smiled and asked, “Mom, is there something else?”

“Did you have some kind of argument with Meng Qiran?”

Chen Qingwu shook her head.

Liao Shuman’s tone was very light. “Last time you said even if you told me, I wouldn’t understand. Your little playing-house situation with Qiran—what’s not to understand? Things you don’t like, when has the family ever truly forced you? When you said you wanted to study ceramics, didn’t you still go and study it? People are the same. If you don’t like Meng Qiran, I won’t force you to marry him.”

The phrase “marry him” made Chen Qingwu unable to suppress a smile. “…Things between Qiran and me ended long ago. And now I’m not because of him…”

Chen Qingwu abruptly stopped speaking.

Liao Shuman stared at her. “Is there another situation?”

“…No.”

Liao Shuman was usually too lazy to interfere in other people’s affairs. Since Chen Qingwu was clearly being evasive, she naturally wouldn’t press further, only saying, “You’re free to date whoever you want, but you need to make things clear with Qiran and handle it properly. Our two families have had a relationship for so many years—don’t let this cause unpleasantness.”

Chen Qingwu lowered her eyes and said “mm-hmm” in a strained voice.

How to be proper?

The only way for this matter to end properly was for her and Meng Fuyuan to each exercise restraint, act as if nothing had ever happened, and return to the original starting point.

In the evening, a gathering of the two families was unavoidable.

Darkness fell early.

When Chen Qingwu left with her parents, the sky had already turned completely dark. The night wind was biting, with a bone-piercing coldness.

Arriving at the Meng house, Liao Shuman stepped forward to press the doorbell.

Chen Qingwu stood far in the back, unable to suppress that psychology of evasion.

The door opened. Qilin welcomed everyone in with a smile.

The instant Chen Qingwu entered, Qilin’s gaze paused on her face. She reached out and lightly patted her arm, saying with a smile, “Qingwu came back for New Year’s too.”

An obvious fact, yet stating it seemed to carry deeper meaning.

Chen Qingwu didn’t want to think too deeply about it, only giving a perfunctory faint smile.

While changing shoes, she restrained herself from looking inside.

Until she passed through the entrance hall and the living room scene came fully into view.

The lighting was warm white, the air carried a faintly warm fragrance, the TV was on, and Meng Chengyong and Meng Qiran sat on the sofa.

Meng Fuyuan’s figure was nowhere to be seen.

Hadn’t he returned to South City? Or was he just not home?

Unable to distinguish which was stronger in her current mood—relief or disappointment.

Liao Shuman asked with a smile, “Fuyuan didn’t come back?”

“He has a fever. He just took medicine and is resting upstairs. He might already be asleep by now.”

Chen Qingwu’s brow twitched.

Liao Shuman: “Didn’t pay attention to keeping warm when the weather changed? Winter is when you easily catch colds and fevers.”

After sitting briefly, they prepared to have dinner.

Qilin asked Meng Qiran to go upstairs and check if Meng Fuyuan’s fever had gone down, and whether he wanted to come down for something to eat.

After a while, Meng Qiran came down from upstairs. “He’s still sleeping. I measured with the forehead thermometer—the fever’s not as high anymore.”

Qilin said, “Then let him rest well for now. I’ll check on him after we finish eating.”

Dinner officially began.

Chen Qingwu was distracted the entire time, only devoting twenty percent of her attention to perfunctorily responding to the parents’ occasional concern.

After the agonizing dinner ended, Meng Chengyong invited everyone to the tea room for tea.

Chen Qingwu took the opportunity to slip away, silently walking to the staircase.

Just as she was about to go upstairs, footsteps sounded behind her.

She turned around with a start—it was Qilin.

Chen Qingwu’s fingers gripped the stair railing tightly. She said softly, “I want to check on his condition.”

Qilin’s expression showed some difficulty.

“Just ten minutes.” Her tone unavoidably carried a hint of pleading.

Qilin ultimately nodded and said with a smile, “Then I’ll trouble you, Qingwu, to help Auntie check if his fever has gone down.”

The reason she agreed was because Meng Fuyuan’s mood had been obviously terrible when he came back this time. She thought Chen Qingwu must have finally made the correct choice. The two of them thoroughly drawing clear boundaries would naturally have a process—there was no need to immediately pursue them to the bitter end.

Qilin’s phrasing was so dignified it seemed almost deliberate, as if afraid she would do something shocking in just ten short minutes—this version of Qilin made Chen Qingwu feel very unfamiliar.

Meng Fuyuan’s bedroom was on the third floor, right next to the study.

The corridor was exceptionally quiet, with a single overhead lamp casting pale, secluded light.

Chen Qingwu stood at the door, taking several deep breaths before raising her hand to knock.

Inside was completely silent.

He must still be sleeping.

After a moment’s hesitation, Chen Qingwu gripped the door handle and gently pressed it down.

In the room, only a bedside lamp was lit, its brightness adjusted to the lowest setting.

The curtains were tightly closed, making the entire space somewhat dim.

Chen Qingwu tiptoed to the bedside.

The bedding was dark gray. The person lying under the covers had one arm draped over the edge of the bed. Under the dim light, his face was pale without a trace of color.

Chen Qingwu bent down and reached out the back of her hand to feel his forehead.

The temperature was barely different from her hand—the fever must have already subsided.

She withdrew her hand and silently sat down on the gray carpet beside the bed, arms hugging her knees, motionlessly gazing at him.

Complete silence—she could almost hear the sound of time passing.

Clearly treasuring every single second, her gaze fixed on his face unwilling to look away, so why did ten minutes still arrive in an instant?

Chen Qingwu blinked her mist-blurred eyes, stood up, and with gentle movements tucked his exposed arm back under the covers, then tucked it in more snugly.

Just as she turned to leave, her wrist was suddenly grabbed.

Chen Qingwu’s heart stopped.

Before she could turn to look, the hand gripping her pulled forcefully downward. Her body lost balance and she fell directly down, hastily reaching out her arms to brace herself on the bed.

A palm was already pressed against the back of her neck, forcefully holding her.

“…Who let you come in?”

Chen Qingwu’s entire body went rigid, unable to move. She opened her mouth but couldn’t make a sound.

“Have you decided?” Meng Fuyuan stared intently at her, his eyes without glasses carrying a cold detachment with a hint of hostility.

“They said you were sick. I came to check on you. You were sleeping, so…”

“Oh. Meaning it doesn’t count?”

Meng Fuyuan narrowed his eyes slightly. His arm lowered to circle under her armpit and pulled forcefully.

Chen Qingwu only felt the world spinning. When she came to her senses, her back was pressed against the bedsheet.

Opening her eyes, above her line of sight was Meng Fuyuan’s face.

He raised his hand, gripped her chin, looked into her eyes, paused for just a moment, then lowered his head and bit her lip.

A slight stinging pain—before she could make a “hiss” sound, it was swallowed by him.

His tongue directly invaded, entangling, plundering her breath.

Chen Qingwu’s body went limp. She instinctively struggled, the hand that went to push Meng Fuyuan’s shoulder was grabbed by him, pulled away, and pressed beside her head, firmly restrained.

The kiss quickly fell from her lips to her neck. As he kissed the skin on the side of her neck, his knee separated her legs and pressed upward.

“Mmm…”

As if heaven and earth were overturning, all chaos happened in an instant, catching her completely off guard.

“Didn’t you say it doesn’t count? This you can also not count…”

Meng Fuyuan’s voice was hoarse, tinged with thin anger.

Chen Qingwu breathed heavily, but still couldn’t control an extremely low whimper—not knowing if it was from confusion or from fear.

—Not fear of him, but fear that she actually yearned for this so much. That unfamiliar feeling of emptiness seemed to ignite a desolate and parched fire in her heart.

Hearing this, Meng Fuyuan immediately stopped.

He looked up and saw her tears rolling down.

He hadn’t lost his reason to begin with, so naturally there was no talk of sobering up.

He sighed, lowered his head to kiss her moist eyes. “…I’m beyond saving, Qingwu. Seeing you cry, I actually feel happy, because I know you’re crying for me.”

Chen Qingwu sobbed even louder.

Meng Fuyuan embraced her shoulders, helped her sit up, held her quietly for a moment, then reached out to straighten her disheveled collar and hair.

Those gentle and meticulous movements were like slow torture to her.

Finally, he reached out and pushed her away. “…Hurry up and get out.”

Chen Qingwu’s feet touched the ground. When she stood, she only felt her steps were unsteady.

She turned to look. Meng Fuyuan had already lain back down, his arm draped over his eyes, as if he would never look at her again.

She bit her lip and quickly walked toward the door.

She pulled the door shut with her other hand. After it closed, she could no longer support herself and crouched down, but could only cover her mouth, not daring to make any sound.

That fire was still burning, making her suffer until she couldn’t breathe.