No inspiration was found. A thoroughly enjoyable time was had regardless.

After touring the art museum, the boss treated Zhu Yun to a meal — generously covering everything.

Under Li Xun’s withering gaze, Zhu Yun chose a Korean restaurant. Under his even more withering gaze, she ordered a bowl of Korean bibimbap.

“Quite an appetite.” Li Xun sat across from her, watching.

Zhu Yun looked up. “You’re not eating?”

Li Xun shook his head.

“You use your brain that much and you’re still not hungry?”

He said nothing.

She spoke through a mouthful of bibimbap, clicking her tongue in admiration. “High output, low consumption — your system is practically inhuman.”

“Have some manners — swallow before you talk.” He glanced at her, then looked out the window.

A person with a temper like yours has no business lecturing me on civility.

They were seated by the window. Li Xun gazed outside for a moment, then said, “Mind if I smoke?”

“Go ahead.” Zhu Yun looked around. School was on holiday — the entire university district had emptied out. They were the only two people in the small restaurant.

Li Xun lit a cigarette and exhaled a long, heavy breath.

Listening to that heavy exhalation, Zhu Yun suddenly recalled a passage from her brief foray into traditional medicine research:

“Mental and emotional stress damages the spleen and stomach, disrupts sleep, and suppresses appetite.”

Li Xun looked out the window with the same cool, focused expression he wore when facing a screen — as if he had sunk into thought.

An empty city outside the window. What was there to look at?

Everyone had left. Zhu Yun recalled how, before Gao Jianhong departed, he had given Li Xun a solid thump on the shoulder — and Li Xun had smiled back, easy and unbothered as always. Everyone involved in the project had gone home for the New Year in high spirits. That had been her plan too.

No one had considered failure. It was as if they had no reason to fail.

With him there, it felt as though failure simply wasn’t an option.

But what about him?

The thought came to her for the first time.

Did he ever consider failure? Did he get nervous? Did he feel the pressure?

She quickly arrived at her answer. Why wouldn’t he? One more genius, big deal.

“Hey,” Zhu Yun swallowed her mouthful of bibimbap and started, “Li Xun, you—”

The moment she opened her mouth, she watched the tension in his face release. Unexpectedly, he smiled.

Her words died on her lips.

Li Xun tilted his chin toward the window and said softly, “Look.”

Zhu Yun turned her head.

It was snowing.

The first snow of the year had come late — waiting until everyone was gone before drifting quietly in, drawing the attention of the few who remained.

The flakes were small and delicate, too light to fall straight, spiraling and circling in the air as though reluctant to settle.

The sky hung low and ashen, tiny snowflakes filling the air in every direction — slow, still, carrying a quiet and unhurried tenderness.

“What were you about to say?”

“Oh — I’m coming with you.”

“Coming where?”

“To Lan Guan. The meeting.”

Li Xun paused, then said quietly, “What for? Go home and enjoy the New Year.”

“Home is close,” Zhu Yun said. “A few hours by train or coach — there’s no rush. Besides, two people are better than one.”

Li Xun gave a soft scoff. “Better how? You’ll carry my bags?”

“I can carry your bags.”

Li Xun gave her a look.

“Then it’s settled.” Zhu Yun put her head back down and resumed eating.

After a quiet moment, Li Xun stubbed out his cigarette. “You’re something else.”

By the time they left the restaurant it was already afternoon. Li Xun stepped through the door and instantly shuddered.

“Why the hell does it keep getting colder!” He strode off toward the junction, and in the same motion pushed Zhu Yun back toward the entrance. “You wait inside. I’ll get the car and come to you.”

I’m wearing far more layers than you, for your information.

It was hard to find a cab in the snow. Zhu Yun stood inside the restaurant watching Li Xun’s tall frame hunch his shoulders against the cold. After five minutes, she went out to relieve him.

Li Xun’s lips had gone faintly purple.

They finally managed to flag down a taxi. By the time it reached the school, the snow was falling harder and the wind had picked up. Li Xun finally dropped the act — he bolted from the car and made a straight dash toward the base. Zhu Yun laughed out loud behind him.

When the laughter faded, she drew a long breath and tilted her head back to look up at the grey-blue sky.

First snow with the taste of kimchi. Absolutely perfect.

The next day, Li Xun had come down with a cold.

“You completely deserve this…” Zhu Yun looked at him, her expression unmoved.

Being ill made his temper even worse than usual. His eyes were shot through with red, as if he might eat her alive.

Zhu Yun handed him the medicine she had bought.

“Take three.”

Li Xun grabbed the blister pack and tipped all five tablets into his mouth at once.

Zhu Yun was horrified. “What are you doing!?”

“It won’t kill me!” he said impatiently. “You take more at the start — basic knowledge. Don’t you know that?”

Since when is that basic knowledge on any planet?

His energy simply wasn’t up to it. The home page logo fell to Zhu Yun by default. The boss had improvised a makeshift bed out of four chairs at the base and was lying down to rest.

The base was quiet. Only the sounds of the mouse and keyboard, and the steady rhythm of Li Xun’s breathing.

“Just put something together — it’s not that closely tied to the system anyway. I’ll get someone to redo it later.” He said this with his eyes closed. Zhu Yun had thought he was asleep; it turned out he was only resting.

The design software sat open on her screen. Zhu Yun rested her chin in her hand and pondered. Before long, her mind had drifted off entirely.

A sneeze from Li Xun pulled her back.

Since it’s going to be redone anyway, just put something up for now. Within her line of sight was the bamboo grove outside the window. Zhu Yun used that as her reference point and looked for materials.

She was genuinely terrible at this. It took her over four hours to finish one image.

This is ten thousand times harder than writing code.

“That is truly hideous…” At some point Li Xun had gotten up. He was standing behind her with his arms folded, delivering his verdict: “The colors are harsh and the composition is ugly.”

Zhu Yun ground her teeth.

Li Xun: “And you call yourself a woman?”

She shoved the mouse aside and turned around. “If you don’t like it, do it yourself!”

Li Xun looked down at her for a few seconds, then said lightly, “Put it up.”

All talk and no action…

She began importing the image into the program. Behind her, Li Xun coughed a few times.

The coughing grew worse — as if he were trying to forcibly suppress the discomfort.

Four hours to make the image, four minutes to import it. Zhu Yun moved efficiently, and once it was done and tested, she stood up.

“I’m stepping out for a moment. Wait for me.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll get you some cough syrup. Your throat can’t keep up with all that coughing.”

“Don’t bother.”

Zhu Yun wasn’t listening. She grabbed her coat. “Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

“Hey!” She was already out the door, but she could still hear Li Xun’s voice echoing down the corridor. “Come back! Let me give you money!”

I can’t afford a bottle of cough syrup? You really underestimate me.

Zhu Yun ran to the pharmacy and, guided by the pharmacist, bought a bottle of cough syrup.

She genuinely hoped Li Xun would get better quickly — tomorrow was the meeting at Lan Guan. If he couldn’t open his mouth properly, would she be the one talking to the person in charge?

Absolutely not.

She was not him. She couldn’t hold up under that kind of pressure.

Zhu Yun oscillated between wanting him to recover quickly and feeling that he fully deserved this.

“Serves him right for trying to look cool in the freezing cold…” she muttered darkly.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. She pulled it out — her mother.

Her steps came to an immediate stop.

“Hello?”

Her mother asked with warm concern, “Zhu Yun, how’s things going with the class president?”

“Should be wrapped up in a day or two.”

“Don’t wear yourself out — come home soon. It’s fine to help a little, but you’re being so dedicated about it. The New Year will pass you by at this rate.”

“I—”

“Your Auntie Jiang is here. We’re having dinner together tonight.”

“Tonight?” She thought she’d misheard. “This evening?”

“That’s right.” Her mother’s voice carried a smile. “Auntie Jiang’s son is back in the country too. Do you remember him? He really is the real deal — studied at a top overseas university, you can just tell the difference. Come back and have a good chat with him, pick up some experience, set yourself up for the future.”

“Can it be tomorrow? There’s no way I’d make it tonight — I haven’t even bought a ticket.” Zhu Yun calculated rapidly in her head. “I’ll definitely be home before tomorrow evening.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Her mother was perfectly composed. “Your father happens to already be there — he had a meeting today, and once it’s over he’s on holiday too. I’ll have him come pick you up directly, and you can come back together. Just explain the situation to your class president — these things come up unexpectedly. I went to considerable effort to get Auntie Jiang to come. Your little older brother has been impossibly busy with his studies, and he’s taking time out of his packed schedule to meet you. Don’t you feel flattered? Start packing — your father will be there shortly, don’t keep him waiting.”

Her mother delivered all of this crisply and hung up.

Zhu Yun stamped her foot hard on the ground.

One day.

Just one day short.

Wang Yuxuan, why couldn’t your plane have just gone down!

Just over half an hour later, her phone rang again. Li Xun’s voice came through, dissatisfied. “Where did you disappear to? How long does it take to buy medicine?”

She tossed the third cigarette she’d smoked down onto the ground and crushed it underfoot.

“On my way back.”

The moment she put down Li Xun’s call, her father Zhu Guangyi’s number came up.

Zhu Yun had a powerful urge to hurl her phone at the wall.

She didn’t answer. She ran the whole way back to the base.

At the very least I have to give him the cough syrup.

Li Xun was at her desk, testing the program. She ran over, out of breath, and placed the cough syrup in front of him.

Li Xun, eyes fixed on the screen, issued a command in the most lordly of tones. “Go get me some water.”

Zhu Yun didn’t move.

Li Xun slid his eyes sideways. “You want me to take it dry?”

His voice was hoarse.

That voice was usually so pleasant to listen to. Now it had roughened into this.

Zhu Yun’s heart was a tangle of irritation. Three cigarettes had not been nearly enough.

“What’s wrong?” He noticed something was off almost immediately.

“Li Xun, my family…” Zhu Yun said quietly.

Li Xun raised an eyebrow.

“My family…”

“Something’s come up…”

“I might have to go back first.”

Outside the window, the bamboo grove stood in perfect stillness.

Li Xun was quiet for a beat, then said, “Nothing serious, I hope.”

Don’t ask like that — I’m only going home to have dinner with someone who studied abroad.

She shook her head.

Li Xun relaxed. “Go on then — there’s nothing left that needs doing anyway. Go home and enjoy the New Year.” He reached for the cigarettes on the desk and said this quietly.

She wanted to tell him to stop smoking, but couldn’t find the words.

Her phone rang again. Li Xun gestured toward it. “Your phone. Stop staring into space.”

Zhu Yun answered. Her father.

“Zhu Yun, why didn’t you pick up just now?”

“It was on silent.”

Li Xun reached out and pulled his coat toward him.

“Your mother told you already, I’m sure. I’ll be there shortly — come to the school gate in half an hour.”

“Okay.”

She hung up. Li Xun had already put on his coat.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the station.”

“That’s not necessary,” Zhu Yun said.

He was looking at her. She didn’t look back.

After a long moment, Li Xun took off his coat again.

“Take care on the way.” He turned back to his seat and resumed typing — that endless, unceasing rhythm on the keyboard.