Outside, Beijing’s first snow of the year was falling. Looking out from the room, the window was filled with soft, fluffy white flakes tumbling down in a flurry.
Some were watching the snow with flushed faces and dazzled eyes, while others were quietly nestled together indoors.
“Happy birthday, Chen Luzhou,” Xu Zhi whispered, embracing him from behind, her face pressed against his back.
His fingers tightened on the card, creasing it involuntarily. His voice seemed to squeeze out from his throat: “How long did this take you?”
In truth, she had started quite early, back during the summer break. Xu Zhi had originally planned to replace his camera lens, but upon realizing how expensive it was and that she couldn’t afford it, she decided to make something for him instead. Uncle Fu had given her a suggestion, offering some leftover materials from his recently renovated mountain villa warehouse. Xu Zhi had taken these materials and made a prototype, but soon discovered that completing the full model would be an enormous undertaking. She set it aside for a while, only resuming work on the design after classes started. She hadn’t thought she’d finish in time for his birthday.
Xu Zhi didn’t answer his question, instead asking, “Do you like it?”
Chen Luzhou turned around, leaning against the edge of the desk. He looked down at her, still holding the card in his hands as he cupped her face. The card brushed against her cheek as his eyes held a trace of lingering devotion and tenderness. “How long?” he persisted.
Xu Zhi remained silent.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll ask your roommates,” he threatened.
Xu Zhi sighed, her arms around his waist and her face pressed against his broad chest, listening to his passionate heartbeat. She finally admitted, “A little over a month. I stayed up all night here yesterday to finish it.”
There was a long pause. Xu Zhi couldn’t help but look up at him, only to see his eye sockets deeply hollowed, the corners of his eyes wet. Realizing the situation was getting out of hand, she quickly said, “Don’t cry. It wasn’t that hard.”
Chen Luzhou leaned back, tilting his head to compose himself. His Adam’s apple bobbed several times, unable to suppress the surging, irrepressible warmth in his chest. His heart felt twisted.
He took a deep breath, cupped her face, and planted a fierce yet infinitely tender kiss on her forehead.
“Are you an idiot?” he asked softly.
Xu Zhi’s eyes brightened as she looked up at him. “Do you always think I only want to kiss you and sleep with you? But I’m seriously dating you, you know.”
After a moment’s thought, she added, “Actually, I’ve been wanting to tell you that I’ve changed a lot since I met you. You probably can’t imagine what I was like before. I used to smoke, but since I met you, I haven’t touched a cigarette. I thought you might not like it, so I quit without even realizing it. And there are some friends you might never encounter in your lifetime – they’re not bad people, just not as fortunate. After we finished recording that show, I realized that although you seem a bit arrogant, you’re easy to talk to, and your circle is very clean. Except for Zhu Yangqi, who seems a bit odd, all your friends are like… what do you call it? The cream of the crop? That’s how you First High people describe yourselves, right? That time I kissed you and you pulled away, I thought it might be better if we just ended things there-“
“End what? Don’t even think about it for the rest of your life,” he mumbled, pulling her into his embrace, his voice muffled against the top of her head.
“Stop pretending. I know you thought about it too,” she retorted.
“I was just frustrated because you were teasing me. I had even considered being just your casual partner,” he admitted.
“I’m not talking about that time. I mean before, during summer break. You told Zhu Yangqi several times, ‘I just want to conquer her.’ Zhu Yangqi told Cai Yingying everything,” Xu Zhi said, emerging from his embrace. Feeling thirsty from talking, she turned to get some water. As she turned, she found him right behind her, following her like a shadow.
Xu Zhi held her water glass and gave his chest a gentle push, laughing. “What are you doing, Chen Luzhou? You’re blocking my view of the snow.”
He took the glass from her hand and set it aside, pinning her against the edge of the desk. He stood there, his knees pressed tightly against hers, hands in his pockets, looking at her earnestly. “Back then, I hadn’t thought much about it. I was afraid of getting too entangled with you and hurting you. You say you thought a lot, but I thought a lot too. What else did Zhu Yangqi tell you?”
“That’s about it,” she said, trying to edge away. “Don’t stand so close to me.”
“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked, pulling her back and deliberately pressing closer. Xu Zhi felt tense all over, her spine-tingling. Her face flushed, and the snow outside seemed to melt under her gaze. Then she heard him say in a low voice, “You say I’m cold towards you, but I react every time I touch you, understand? I’m not frigid, I’m just afraid. Some things aren’t that safe. Once or twice is fine, but too often isn’t good. What if something happens? I’ve seen people get pregnant even with protection. That’s how Zhu Yangqi was born. I don’t want you to suffer unnecessarily.”
Xu Zhi was stunned, not realizing he had thought so much about it. She laughed and said, “Well, Zhu Yangqi must be quite resilient then.”
“Yeah, he’s been tough since he was little. We used to call him ‘Strong Zhu’.”
Xu Zhi burst out laughing. She looked up at him, feeling the heat between them intensifying, almost burning into her heart. Feeling uncomfortable, she said, “Then don’t stand so close to me. It’s not very comfortable…”