A group of people sat resting on the couches. Lin Weixia sat across from them and was just about to look for some water when a steaming cup appeared in her line of sight. She followed it upward — it was Jiang Heng.

Lin Weixia blinked, then smiled and accepted it. “Thank you.”

The couch beside her dipped in the next instant as Jiang Heng settled naturally into the seat next to her.

After everyone had rested for a bit, Qiu Minghua brought over several brochures and slapped them onto the table. “We’ve got about eight people here,” he announced. “Everything’s listed in there. Take your pick — choose whatever you want to do most.”

The group picked up the brochures and began weighing in, voices overlapping. Some wanted the thrilling options — skiing or snow motorcycles. A few couples preferred a slow pace and chose the snow hot-air balloon.

Jiang Heng held out a brochure toward Lin Weixia, asking sincerely, “What do you feel like doing?”

“Snow bumper cars.” Lin Weixia touched her nose, a little self-conscious.

She was probably the only one who’d choose a game meant for kids. Her body had been worn down lately, and she wanted something light.

Menzi leaned over right away, her nail polish glinting as she pointed at the brochure. “I want to do that too. Weixia, let’s go together.”

“Then I’ll come along too — I can take photos for both of you.” Jiang Heng picked up a marker from the table and checked off the option.

The moment he finished speaking, amid all the chatter, a sharp, crisp click rang out — the sound of something metal catching against a gear, carrying a faint spark.

A resounding clunk followed. Ban Sheng tossed his silver lighter onto the table. The noise silenced the room. Qiu Minghua, who’d been enthusiastically mid-sentence, jumped and clutched his chest. “Bro, you startled me.”

“Pathetic,” Ban Sheng said lazily.

Soon, the sound of footsteps came pattering down the staircase. A girl had changed into fresh clothes — a plum-colored long skirt paired with tall boots — and descended gracefully from upstairs.

Shi Li walked over, and the living room was immediately filled with the thick wave of her perfume. It was Shi Li.

Ban Sheng sat on the single armrest of the couch, one long leg stretched out casually onto the floor. His athletic jacket hung open, and he rested his head back against the wall with his eyes closed, his expression listless and tired.

Shi Li sat directly on the couch beside the armrest, and the moment she did, Ban Sheng’s tall figure loomed over her from the side. From across the room, knowing glances drifted over.

It was clearly meant as a declaration of territory.

Only Menzi silently rolled her eyes.

Shi Li tilted her head to look at Ban Sheng and spoke up, “Didn’t you say when we came here you wanted to ski? I’ll come with you then.”

“I hear you’re really good at skiing — could you teach me?” Shi Li asked in a soft, coaxing voice.

It was genuinely unusual to see Shi Li speaking to anyone this humbly and accommodatingly. At gatherings before, she was usually the one giving people cold looks and walking out on the spot. Now, with Ban Sheng, the tables had completely turned.

Most people, when a pretty girl spoke to them this pleasantly, would instinctively soften.

But Ban Sheng was the type with a scoundrel’s face and a heart to match — hard as iron. His eyes passed over Shi Li’s face with barely a flicker, and he responded coolly:

“We’ll see.”

After everyone had rested for fifteen minutes, they set off. Ban Sheng strolled along at the back, Shi Li close on his heels.

Qiu Minghua walked alongside him, talking, but Ban Sheng was only half-listening, his gaze drifting up to scan the area not far ahead.

Lin Weixia was walking toward a car. She was just about to open the door when Jiang Heng stepped over and did it for her. Their eyes met briefly and she smiled — from the shape of her lips, it looked like she said thank you. Jiang Heng shook his head.

The car started up. Ban Sheng didn’t watch any longer, pulled his gaze back, and felt a restlessness stir inside him that he couldn’t shake off.

He turned to look at Shi Li, who was keeping pace beside him, his tone chilly: “Stop following me. Didn’t you say you came with Qiu Minghua?”

The group drove to the ski resort. Shi Li, in high spirits, picked out a purple ski outfit, spent a long time adjusting it in the changing room, then walked out and stood in front of the mirror by the ski resort counter to fix her hair and makeup.

Ban Sheng sat on a low plastic stool, head dipped, eyes on his phone. He still hadn’t changed.

He opened WeChat Moments and began scrolling idly, his gaze skimming through posts without really landing on any of them — until it stopped. Ten minutes ago, Jiang Heng had posted a Moment:

Playing bumper cars. [Butterfly] [Butterfly]

He’d also included a photo. It showed a gently sloping snow field, with three bumper cars on it. Along the far edge, a girl was seated in one of them. Only her profile from the side was visible.

She wore a white woolen coat. Her jet-black hair caught the sunlight, shimmering with a soft luster. The line of her neck curved down to the ends of her hair in one graceful, gentle arc. It was Lin Weixia.

His dark eyes locked onto the photo. Something in Ban Sheng’s jaw tightened, the line of it pulling taut, and he stood up abruptly.

Qiu Minghua was over at the counter, just about to count heads and pay, and caught a glimpse of his companion striding toward the exit. “Ban-ge, where are you going?”

“Something came up.” Ban Sheng tossed the words back without turning around.

Outside, the wind and snow had gone quiet. Now and then a lark flew from one power line to a tree on the other side. By the time Ban Sheng reached the bumper car area, he could already make out Jiang Heng hovering near Lin Weixia from a distance, while Menzi charged after her from behind, laughing and chasing her with snowballs.

Lin Weixia sat in the bumper car, laughing as she tilted her head to dodge Menzi’s assault — but she didn’t manage to escape entirely. A clump of snow caught her, toppled down, and slipped inside her collar.

Jiang Heng stopped and leaned over, reaching out to lightly brush the snow from Lin Weixia’s collar. A gust of wind swept past, and a strand of her long hair drifted across his arm.

Ban Sheng stood not far away watching this, his expression darkening. The displeasure on his face was plain. He didn’t move to approach, just bowed his head, bit down on a cigarette, pulled out his phone from his pocket, and turned away to make a call.

With his back turned, he naturally missed what happened next — Lin Weixia’s movements going rigid as she shifted slightly away.

He held the phone against his ear, said something to the other end that couldn’t be heard, smoked as he walked, and headed back.

Lin Weixia and Menzi were still deep in their fun — their voices nearly hoarse — when a staff member from the area came over, looking apologetic, and called a halt. He explained they’d received notice that the space had been temporarily requisitioned and would not be open to the public for the time being.

Menzi was immediately displeased. “Are you serious? We paid for a three-hour pass and we’ve only been here one hour.”

“We’ll give you a full refund, and we’d also like to offer each of you a two-day spending pass for the scenic area. We’re truly very sorry.” The staff member wore an expression of sincere regret.

Menzi was still about to argue when Lin Weixia stepped in to hold her back. “He’s just following orders — there’s nothing he can do. Let’s go back. We can play again tomorrow.”

The three of them had no choice but to leave, deflated. They returned to the standalone guesthouse to rest. Lin Weixia sat down in the living room and turned on the television, picking a film at random.

Menzi went upstairs saying she needed to rest. Jiang Heng, however, didn’t go up — he stayed sitting beside Lin Weixia.

Lin Weixia was focused on the TV when a languid, unhurried set of footsteps came from behind her. Then her peripheral vision caught a wrist with prominent tendons, a hand slipped into a pocket. Looking up, it was a cool, irreverent face.

“You’re back already?” Jiang Heng greeted him.

Ban Sheng settled into the seat diagonally across from Lin Weixia, opened a bottle of ice water, and when he spoke, even his voice seemed to carry the chill of it:

“Yeah. You three?”

“We were mid-game when the staff suddenly said the area was closed.” Jiang Heng shrugged in mild disappointment.

Ban Sheng raised an eyebrow but said nothing, leaning forward to pull a couple of paper towels and dry the water off his fingers.

The space was large, and there were only the three of them in it. An elusive, strange tension drifted through the air — and it only became stranger once Ban Sheng joined. An undercurrent ran silently between the two men.

For no clear reason, Lin Weixia felt completely at a loss sitting there, as if under a vague but inexorable pressure.

Fortunately, people began drifting back one by one, and eventually everyone was seated on the sofas, eating fruit and exchanging stories about the embarrassing things that had happened to them outside.

Soon it was dinnertime. Lin Weixia and another girl were put in charge of cooking, and Jiang Heng raised his hand to volunteer as well. The group exchanged looks that said oh, sure, with varying degrees of skepticism.

One of the guys asked, “Friend, can I place an order?”

“Of course — as long as it’s something I know how to make,” Lin Weixia said, picking up a pen from the table and tearing off a sheet of paper.

People started calling out dishes. Some said they were easy to please, while others suggested that whoever was good at cooking should each make their signature dish to take some of the burden off Lin Weixia and the other girl.

Shi Li seemed to think of something and asked the young man who’d been sitting silently on the sofa for a long time yet somehow commanded a strong presence in the room: “Ban Sheng, I’ve heard your soups are incredible. Care to show us?”

The air went still in an instant. Lin Weixia tightened her grip on the pen in her hand, paused, then continued writing the menu.

“Shi-jie, I’ve known Ban-ge for years and I have yet to see him make soup for anyone. How about I make it for you instead?” Qiu Minghua said with a grin.

The room erupted in laughter, and everyone began ribbing Qiu Minghua for being full of himself — Shi Li clearly wasn’t interested, they said. In the midst of the teasing, Shi Li’s face flushed a little. She suddenly felt foolish for having brought it up at all.

In the midst of the clamor, Lin Weixia read through the menu again and spoke in a composed voice: “Is there anything else anyone wants to add?”

No one responded. Lin Weixia was just about to cap the pen when a low voice came from across the room, carrying what sounded like a deliberate undercurrent:

“Celery stir-fried with beef.”

Her heart clenched sharply. Ban Sheng’s gaze settled dense and unrelenting on her face. Lin Weixia didn’t meet it. She quickly added the dish to the menu, then handed it to Qiu Minghua and asked him to go pick up the ingredients.

Night fell quickly. Stars crept up into the sky. Outside, the wind continued to moan, while inside, the lights were bright, and laughter from the games outside filtered through now and then.

Lin Weixia and the other girl were busy in the kitchen. Jiang Heng shed his down jacket and came in to help. He wore a white knit sweater and silver-rimmed glasses, looking refined and scholarly.

He became a steady, helpful presence — washing vegetables, taking out the trash. Whatever he did, he was careful and thorough, no cutting corners.

Soon the other girl left to fetch some jam from outside, leaving only Lin Weixia and Jiang Heng in the kitchen. The clay pot on the stove burbled and bubbled away. It was very quiet.

Lin Weixia found a spare pen and used it to loosely twist her long hair up into a bun at the back of her head. After washing her hands, she turned to focus on chopping vegetables. The carrot on the cutting board was sliced quickly into fine shreds.

“I get the feeling you haven’t been very happy,” Jiang Heng said, sweeping the scraps from the counter into a garbage bag.

“Have I not?” Lin Weixia gave a mild smile.

The kitchen was the furthest room back in the house, right next to the staircase, so they could hear anyone who passed nearby.

From outside came the sound of footsteps, and immediately after, another set of lighter, quicker steps followed. Shi Li’s voice drifted over softly: “Are you heading upstairs?”

“Mm.” A low, indifferent voice.

Lin Weixia’s hands stilled for a moment. She moved the sliced ingredients to a plate and turned toward the other side of the kitchen. Then she noticed that the apron she had on had come loose — she glanced sideways and saw that the knot at the back had come undone.

Both of Lin Weixia’s hands were freshly off the raw meat and covered in grease. She was just about to wash her hands before retying the apron.

Then, unexpectedly, a figure moved close behind her. Fingers caught the dangling ties at her back. Jiang Heng’s faint, clean sea-salt scent drifted over as he smiled and said, “Let me.”

Jiang Heng was standing fairly close to her. Lin Weixia had a persistent, inexplicable feeling that somewhere beyond the kitchen, another pair of eyes — silent and darkening — was fixed on the two of them.

That gaze was like a net with no gaps, pulling tight around her, as if examining the two of them over and over. The back of Lin Weixia’s neck prickled. A fine layer of sweat broke out there.

The moment stretched on.

“Done,” Jiang Heng said quietly.

Lin Weixia let out a quiet breath and glanced back toward the outside. Through the kitchen’s glass door, a cool, dark silhouette on the staircase flickered past — or perhaps it was her imagination.

Then footsteps sounded on the staircase and faded away.

Not long after, the other girl came back carrying a jar of jam, and Jiang Heng took out the trash.

The girl twisted open the lid and spooned out two scoops of jam, then gave Lin Weixia a meaningful look. “Guess what I just saw? Ban Sheng and Shi Li went upstairs together. They’re not in the same room, are they? — I have to time it. Let’s see how long they stay up there.”

Lin Weixia gave a slight tug of her lips as an acknowledgment. The girl was lively, and beyond talking about Ban Sheng, she also shared various amusing, slightly shameless things that had happened among the others.

Not only that, but with gleeful mischief, the girl actually set a timer on her phone to track exactly how long Ban Sheng and Shi Li would be upstairs.

The timer ticked on, each beep needling at Lin Weixia’s nerves. She didn’t let it show. Instead, she moved faster, focusing on her work — though every so often her mind drifted, and once she nearly caught her hand on the knife.

Once everything was ready, people wandered in one by one, drawn by the aroma. They lavished praise on Lin Weixia, then helped carry the dishes out to the table.

With everything finally in order, Lin Weixia dried her hands, picked up a dish, and walked out of the kitchen — only to come face to face with Ban Sheng, who was just coming down the stairs.

He’d changed into a black hoodie, hanging loosely off him, both hands in his pockets, carrying the easy aura of someone completely unbothered. At the side of his raised collarbone was a bandage, but it wasn’t staying put, and beside it there was a clear, fresh red mark.

Conspicuous. Telling.

Shi Li, her makeup bold and glamorous, came down the stairs right behind him.

Someone nearby was passing by and spotted the red mark at Ban Sheng’s collarbone with a sharp eye, expression immediately turning knowing. “Oh ho, Ban-ge, what were you up to? The two of you vanished for a whole forty minutes—”

Lin Weixia stood quietly where she was, looked up, and met Ban Sheng’s gaze. Jiang Heng came up from behind her, took the dish from her hands, and said, “Here, let me. Careful — that’s hot. Come on.”

“Thank you,” Lin Weixia said under her breath.

The two of them walked one after the other, brushing past Ban Sheng and Shi Li toward the living room.