The haze pressed down heavily, air pressure plummeting sharply, the night sky descending with it—a blizzard was imminent.

A thunderous boom followed by a piercing alarm shattered the restless atmosphere beneath the mist. Tourists halted their entertainment and looked toward the accident site. The world seemed to freeze for a moment. Aside from the leaping flames of the bonfire, only one staggering and heavy set of footsteps stood out with particular clarity.

As if trudging through mud, or as though stepping on light snow, Sun Xi used every ounce of his strength to run to that car. When he reached it, he realized he’d forgotten to breathe. He took a heavy gulp of air before he could speak, but when he opened his mouth, his voice was so hoarse only he could hear it.

He mouthed a single word through the car window: Jiu.

Then he pulled at the car door—it wouldn’t open. He began pounding on the window, using all his strength, as if trying to get her attention. He pounded again and again. Gradually his voice recovered somewhat, and he shouted loudly.

“Jiu, Yu Jiuqi, open the door! Look at me, look at me, open the door!”

Yu Jiuqi sat dazed in the driver’s seat. She wasn’t seriously hurt, but she couldn’t snap out of it. She just stared at the withered pagoda tree she’d crashed into—at its thick trunk, its dry branches, at a red lantern someone had hung on it, at the hand-painted red heart on that lantern. Her eyes didn’t blink, her face frighteningly pale.

“Yu Jiuqi!” His already reddened hand clenched into a tight fist, his head pressed against the driver’s side window. A piercing pain shot through him. Sun Xi repeated weakly, “…Open the door!”

Several locals gathered around, everyone talking at once, wanting to help. They said this girl looked scared senseless—if not, they should find something to pry the door open.

More and more people crowded around, blocking her view ahead. Only then did Xiao Jiu move her eyes away from that red lantern and come back to her senses. She turned her head and saw Sun Xi. After a pause, she pressed the unlock button.

Sun Xi quickly opened the car door and crouched down, checking her face and body all over. Confirming she was unharmed, he looked at her, looked at her intently: “It’s okay now, it’s okay.”

Yu Jiuqi didn’t know why, but looking at Sun Xi, tears streamed down her face. She didn’t make any sound at all, showed no emotion, yet the tears wouldn’t stop.

Sun Xi hurriedly raised his hand to wipe them for her. One hand wasn’t enough, so he simply used both thumbs to rub roughly. The force was a bit heavy, leaving faint red marks on her fair face, but it still didn’t help. Finally he could only cup her face, first closing his eyes and fiercely suppressing the pain in his heart, before looking at her calmly and asking:

“What’s wrong, Jiu?”

Yu Jiuqi gazed at Sun Xi: “I’m sorry.”

Sun Xi felt even worse: “You don’t need to be. You haven’t wronged anyone.”

“I crashed your car.”

Sun Xi frowned deeply: “It’s fine.”

“I need to fix it for you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I need to fix it. I crashed it, so I need to fix it.” She insisted inexplicably.

“Alright.” Sun Xi wiped her face again, “Okay.”

Then he looked up and around, noticing several tourists holding up their phones filming them. He couldn’t help but be vigilant, afraid photos or videos would be taken and posted online. He pulled Yu Jiuqi’s head over, covering her face, and was about to yell at them when suddenly someone in the crowd shouted.

“It’s snowing!”

Snowflakes really began to fall.

Sparse yet full and heavy, large flakes descending, without a trace of wind, floating lightly and spinning before their eyes—the typical fluffy goose-feather snow.

Yu Jiuqi stared at the snowflake on Sun Xi’s nose tip, watching it melt from his body heat, turning into a small pool of crystalline liquid.

Only then did his presence at this moment feel somewhat real to her.

Compared to the temporarily occurring dramatic minor accident, the snow falling all over the sky clearly drew more interest from the tourists. Everyone turned their cameras to photograph the snow, the sky and earth, the romantic spectacle nature bestowed upon humanity.

Sun Xi took the opportunity to crouch down, wanting to carry Xiao Jiu up. She stopped him, saying she could walk.

Sun Xi helped her put on her down jacket, the hood covering her head. She kept her head lowered, he held her hand, and they walked away from that small accident site. Looking around, he walked toward someone whose face looked familiar.

He walked straight to the farmhouse worker in the bright red jacket and politely greeted him, asking if there was a car repair shop nearby. The floral-jacketed worker’s eyes shifted between the two of them, then gave him a phone number.

The repair shop people arrived quickly. After an inspection, they needed to replace the bumper and tire, but parts had to be ordered from Shicheng city center. It was too late to do anything tonight—they could only repair it first thing tomorrow morning. With no other choice, they could only stay temporarily for the night.

After briefly collecting things from the car, Sun Xi searched for nearby accommodation and discussed it with Xiao Jiu. She had no opinion, her eyes showing complete exhaustion.

Half an hour later, they stood at the farmhouse’s front desk.

Behind the desk was still that baby-faced worker in the floral jacket. He explained that the front desk lady had gone to the livestream room for a PK battle, and he was temporarily helping to watch over things. He checked and said only one deluxe heated kang room was left, asking if they wanted to stay together?

Sun Xi nodded, saying yes.

The floral-jacketed worker glanced at the silent girl beside them and couldn’t help but be suspicious of their relationship. After all, running to a county farmhouse in the middle of the night, crying and making a scene until crashing the car, wasn’t common. Worried the girl might have some safety concerns, he asked again: “What’s your relationship? Nothing else, just for the shop’s registration.”

Sun Xi said: “Couple.”

The worker looked at Xiao Jiu: “Is that right?”

Xiao Jiu made a sound of affirmation, her voice lazy: “He’s my boyfriend.”

The worker asked for both their ID cards and looked at them. He seemed to gather his courage and glanced at Sun Xi: “Then what’s her name?”

Sun Xi paused, understanding his meaning, and cooperated: “Yu Jiuqi.”

“And the address?”

He reported an address in a low, slow, and smooth voice.

The worker carefully checked—not a single character off. But still not reassured, he continued asking: “Birthday?”

Sun Xi stared at the big floral jacket, his eyes frosting over with fragments: “1999, December 29.”

Then the fragments flashed in his eyes as he glanced at the clock on the wall behind the big floral jacket—it was already past midnight.

This wretched and utterly defeated day had finally ended.

Today was the 27th.

So in a daze, he muttered to himself: “Day after tomorrow. Day after tomorrow is her birthday.”

Yu Jiuqi blinked lightly, her eyelashes fluttering moistly.

Temporarily staying together in this relationship was helpless necessity, but spending the night in the same room away from home wasn’t unfamiliar to them.

When they were in Beijing, they’d gone out to play a few times, all short trips, even returning the same day, because Xiao Jiu had severe trouble sleeping in unfamiliar beds and couldn’t sleep soundly outside. Sun Xi didn’t care—when he got sleepy, he could sleep anywhere, anytime. Once they went with an outdoor hiking group and spent the night in canyon tents. It was cold and damp, with animals howling outside, but even so, Sun Xi had enjoyed six solid hours of deep sleep.

Xiao Jiu knew she wouldn’t sleep well tonight. Calculating the time, in another five or six hours it would be light—not hard to endure.

She thought it wouldn’t be hard to endure.

About an hour after the lights went out, she heard the person beside her sit up, climb down from the kang, and go out once, bringing back some cold air. After a while, he went out again, bringing back some cigarette smell.

Moving carefully and quietly, he finally lay down, then lightly turned over, facing her. His breathing was clear, rough, arrhythmic—sometimes rapid, sometimes slow—assaulting her.

Outside, snow floated like cotton. Xiao Jiu kept her eyes closed but still felt the gaze ahead burning her.

She thought perhaps it was an illusion born of dizziness and confusion.

She dozed off fitfully, restlessly. Even though her body wanted to relax, her brain remained active, replaying this exhausting, endless day.

Over and over, replaying the most heart-stopping moment of the day.

She thought it should have been witnessing Sun Xi confront Yu Kaixuan in the KTV, or when Sun Xi chatted with Zhu Duomei about her in the craft beer bar, or when he aggressively chased her to her building, or when he forced her to take a stand at the county farmhouse—but none of those. It was when she desperately and impulsively wanted to crash into something randomly, and he suddenly appeared in front of the car.

In her chaotic dreams, Xiao Jiu repeated that moment over and over, repeatedly shouting at him to dodge, then repeatedly crashing forward.

She knew clearly that at that time, she really would have crashed into him.

Why didn’t he dodge?

Vaguely, a dry yet warm sensation on her face, lightly sliding below her eyes, leaving a rough trail. She thought it was still a dream. She slowly opened her eyes and met a pair of pitch-black eyes.

Then she looked at the hand he’d just withdrawn—the back of his hand swollen and red from pounding on the window, his finger holding a glistening drop, as if a snowflake had stopped there.

Xiao Jiu quietly gazed at him, tracing that face, then silently recited again: Why didn’t you dodge? I really would have crashed into you.

Sun Xi’s brow tightened suddenly. He leaned over and gently kissed her face, then immediately pulled back, his eyes cautiously observing her, like a child who’d made a mistake.

The floral curtain revealed a corner—outside the window, snow filled the sky, a vast rustling whiteness covering heaven and earth.

Suddenly grateful for this unexpected heavy snow, falling abundantly—it could mask romance and also conceal crimes.

Since it was so, Yu Jiuqi’s gaze slid down, stopping at his lips. Her mind blank, she instinctively lifted her head slightly, moved forward, and kissed Sun Xi.

She didn’t leave for a long time, until Sun Xi’s fingers wound around her neck, supporting the back of her head, pushing her away. A pair of eyes already smoldering black stared fiercely at her.

The force in his hand was somewhat heavy, light flashing in his eyes—seemingly delighted, yet surprised. Finally, locking onto her eyes, demanding an answer.

Xiao Jiu moved toward him again, but as soon as she touched his lips, she was roughly pushed away, then he pressed down on her, forcefully kissing down, simultaneously throwing off her blanket, giving her no time to hesitate, sliding into her clothes.

Unfastening, removing, then unfastening again, removing again—that kiss deepened layer by layer, never stopping.

Xiao Jiu let him. Her slender arms draped behind his back, fingers softly threading into his short hair, pressing on the prickly stubble, rubbing delicately. As the familiar pain from her body attacked, she closed her eyes, her fingertips curling up.

She wanted to curl them even higher.

He used no technique, gave her no space. Only when she finally couldn’t help humming aloud did he suddenly stop.

Then nastily, revealing that bastard nature in his bones, he pinched her chin: “Look at me.”

Xiao Jiu looked at him. For some reason, he seemed to be in great pain.

He frowned, clear veins bulging on his forehead. The words he spoke weren’t easy either—each word was like stabbing into his own heart: “Come with me.”

Three words, one by one, also stabbing through her heart completely.

He pressed against her and asked again: “Or I’ll stay.”

But she didn’t want to be coerced at a time like this, and wasn’t sure if he was rational at this moment. She endured and didn’t answer.

He moved again but didn’t give satisfaction: “You choose.”

Yu Jiuqi suddenly used her hands and feet, tightly wrapping around him, embracing his neck, forcefully pulling him down, then pushing herself up, her head reaching his ear.

Sun Xi thought she was going to give an answer, but unexpectedly, she bit down hard.

Crying out in pain with a curse, he pushed her away, pressed her head to the side, and became reckless.

Xiao Jiu’s fingertips curled high, then gradually fell.

The snow fell heavier and heavier.

She fell deeply into sleep.

This long day had finally ended.

……

When she woke again it was already bright. The person beside her was already gone. The bedding was thrown open and piled up, the pillow next to her, its indentation already flattened.

She sat quietly alone for a while.

When Sun Xi called, Yu Jiuqi was preparing to wash her face. His voice sounded rarely lighthearted, saying he’d just worked with the repair shop people to get the parts, they were repairing it now, but it would take at least another two hours. He asked if Xiao Jiu wanted to come out for breakfast or stay in the room—he could bring it in for her.

Then he added: “They didn’t prepare much breakfast, everyone’s grabbing it.”

Xiao Jiu asked what they had.

“Let me see.” Sun Xi walked a few steps, then after a while said, “Wonton soup, pickled vegetable steamed dumplings, scallion pancakes, eggs.”

“Help me bring a bowl of wonton soup, thanks.”

He paused, didn’t respond, and hung up.

After washing her face, the phone rang again. Xiao Jiu thought the wontons were sold out and thought pickled vegetable steamed dumplings would work too. She picked up her phone and looked—the caller wasn’t Sun Xi.

The phone displayed a single-character name: “Mom”

Mom?

Wen Wen!

Xiao Jiu instantly went on high alert as if stepping on a mine, holding the hot phone and standing there, looking around this Manchu folk-style farmhouse deluxe heated kang room, thinking about how to lie and how to cover it up. In haste she gritted her teeth to answer when the ringtone suddenly cut off.

She thought she’d luckily escaped disaster, but unexpectedly Wen Wen directly called with a video call.

Yu Jiuqi knew very clearly that with a phone call she could muddle through and dodge it, but a video call had to be faced carefully—this was blatant spot-checking. Being even a second late answering carried exposure risk.

So she immediately answered. Almost simultaneously, she saw Sun Xi walk into the room carrying a tray with two bowls of steaming wonton soup.

Though there was no gunfire, Xiao Jiu felt the mine under her feet had already exploded.

In her urgency, Yu Jiuqi could only hold up one finger toward the doorway, signaling him not to speak. Facing the phone camera, she smiled radiantly at her mother sitting on the sofa at home and called out with slight exaggeration: “Mom!”

Sun Xi stood there, pressing his lips tightly together, his hand gripping the aluminum tray using a bit of force.

“You didn’t stay home last night?” Wen Wen’s voice was a bit hoarse.

“Right, I’m in the county.” Xiao Jiu slowly spoke the lie she’d just prepared. “I had a last-minute business trip—those agricultural business loan matters. Something came up suddenly, and I had to go to the village first thing this morning to check it out. With the snow last night, I just stayed in the county. Tossed and turned half the night, so tired.”

Sun Xi suddenly glanced at her, his meaning unclear.

“Where are you now?”

“County farmhouse.” Xiao Jiu regretted that last half-sentence. Ignoring the gaze beside her, she spoke very naturally to the camera: “Mom, I’m staying in a Manchu folk-style room, it’s quite special. I was thinking of telling Dad—our family bathhouse guest rooms could do one too. Let me show you!”

As she spoke, she really did point her phone toward the window area, filming left and right. Of course, she precisely controlled the camera on the two wooden windows and the folk decoration between them, while nimbly waving at Sun Xi, meaning to hide far away and not expose them.

Sun Xi simply moved a few steps and sat on the kang’s edge.

He was quite certain Yu Jiuqi wouldn’t film the heated kang for Wen Wen, because on it was still messily piled the bedding they’d tossed about half the night. Two sets of bedding, two pillows, with almost no distance between them.

His gaze moved away from that messy pair, thinking of last night’s ambiguity. His hand ached as he placed the tray on the wooden table beside him.

“Who did you go with?” Wen Wen asked again on the phone.

“Huanhuan.”

“Wang Huan?”

“Right.” Xiao Jiu stood by the window, camera on herself. “But she has to go to the bank to get some materials. She’s driving, so it’s convenient to go back and forth. We’ll meet directly in the village later.”

Wen Wen was silent for a moment, as if believing her, then changed the subject: “Jiu, about that person…”

Yu Jiuqi naturally knew who she wanted to mention and quickly interrupted: “Mom, I need to leave. There’s only one bus to the village in the morning.”

“Can you come back today?”

Xiao Jiu said: “I’ll go back tonight.”

Wen Wen seemed worried: “It’s snowing. Be careful on the road.”

“I know.”

She added: “What do you want for dinner tonight? Mom will take you for hotpot? Just the two of us.”

Xiao Jiu felt inexplicably sour: “Okay, Mom.”

After the call ended, before that held breath could even out, Yu Jiuqi leaned against the window and immediately called her colleague Wang Huan, asking her to help out temporarily today, accompany her on a trip to the countryside, and bring some materials. Great favors need no words of thanks.

People who frequently lie all understand that principle—the standard for evaluating whether a lie is sophisticated isn’t the fabrication technique in an emergency situation, but how to cover it up seamlessly is the real skill.

Sun Xi squinted his eyes, sizing her up, and couldn’t help but smile.

After hanging up with her colleague, Xiao Jiu made another call to her team leader, explaining that with New Year’s approaching, she thought she might as well make a trip to the client’s home, visit to check the actual situation, and also discuss the business face-to-face. After much persuasion and pledging commitment, she finally succeeded.

That burden was barely half lifted. Turning to look out the window, she saw the snow had accumulated in a thick layer. Two workers were shoveling snow, quickly clearing a space that exposed the gravel.

Heavy snow couldn’t hide anything—it would eventually be exposed.

Turning her head, she met the pitch-black eyes that had been chaotic before the previous night’s mess. Xiao Jiu dodged, then remembering something, cleverly looked back over.

After all these years, Sun Xi never concealed the tacit understanding between them. He took the initiative to say: “After the car’s fixed, I’ll take you there.”

Xiao Jiu didn’t refuse, but explained: “There really is only one bus, it left long ago.”

“Mm.”

Explaining further: “And with such heavy snow, the village bus might stop running too.”

“Mm.”

“There’s no other way.”

“I said I’ll take you there.” He frowned.

“Then I’ll trouble you.”

He said nothing more, staring at her, his expression becoming probing.