The apartment Sun Xi rented was only about a ten-minute drive from Le Sheng Huang. Compared to going out in Beijing where trips easily took over an hour, this was much more comfortable. When the weather was good, he would even walk to and from work. Even when driving, he was leisurely and unhurried.

But today was different. After getting in the car, he changed lanes repeatedly, nearly crossing the line, consecutively passing two taxis with their rooftop Fu’an Mall advertisement boards flashing, provoking a chorus of angry horn blaring behind him. He didn’t care, gritting his teeth and silently swearing to drive home within five minutes—the faster the better, couldn’t wait a moment longer.

But the person beside him had a different opinion.

Just after passing a traffic light, Yu Jiuqi grabbed the seatbelt in front of her, saying quietly, “Sun Xi, pull over for a moment.” Sun Xi naturally didn’t stop, thinking she was frightened by the clamoring horns behind them, saying it’s fine, ignore them, let them curse.

“I’m hungry. I want to eat.” Xiao Jiu said flatly.

“I’ll cook when we get home.” His reply was brief.

“I don’t want to eat what you make.”

Sun Xi’s brows pressed down: “Then order takeout.”

“Takeout won’t taste good by the time it arrives.”

“What do you want to eat?”

“Spicy hot pot.” Xiao Jiu turned toward the window.

Sun Xi also turned toward her side, seeing through the window they were just passing an old-style spicy hot pot restaurant. Scanning left and right, this entire street was clothing specialty stores—this was the only place to eat.

His gaze settled on the profile of the person beside him. Seeing her facing the window but watching him with peripheral vision, he made his judgment. Knowing clearly she was deliberately finding a random place to get out of the car, he still granted her wish.

Spicy hot pot was probably the most popular affordable food in the Northeast besides barbecue. Originally a southern street food style, arriving here it took root, paired with sweet and sour garlic and large amounts of fragrant salty sesame sauce, somehow reverse-exporting to become a unique local fast food.

But Sun Xi didn’t like eating it.

He only ordered a few vegetable fried skewers. Yu Jiuqi seriously selected different kinds of staple noodles and vegetable meatballs. When served, it was steaming hot, rich with sauce fragrance, a full large bowl.

They sat in a corner away from the windows. Sun Xi drank a bottle of mineral water, ate some fried potato slices, then just sat there watching her. The table was very small—he could see everything clearly.

She ate extremely slowly, head bowed, steam rising onto her thick eyelashes. Under the lights at close distance, they looked dyed with a layer of dark ink, making her eyes appear moist and transparent, also more solemn.

After all, having been together on and off for so many years, he clearly understood his girlfriend was currently killing time, thinking, killing time while thinking. He desperately wanted to urge her to eat faster, but also felt that was impolite. So he endured it, his chest feeling like it would explode from suffocation.

Looking around, there were quite a few people in the restaurant. Fortunately, they sat sparsely. Speaking quietly, others might not necessarily hear.

Well then, right here it is. Looking at the person across from him pretending to be calm yet heavy with worry, he told himself to be as steady as possible, as rational as possible, to tell her truthfully about those unknown mental torments and dark emotions. She’s the most important person in my life—I should be forthright, shouldn’t hide things.

So after contemplating for a moment, he suddenly spoke: “Yu Jiuqi, is it really necessary?”

Xiao Jiu put down her chopsticks, looking up in astonishment.

Sun Xi could hardly believe that stiffly toned sentence just now was his own, even less understanding why he followed with: “Is it necessary for you to doubt me?”

He had always hated this heavily armed aggressive appearance of his, especially toward her. But this defensive mechanism facing danger instinctively had protected and numbed him for so many years—it was no longer something he could control.

Rather be hated than pitied.

Sun Xi looked at Xiao Jiu anxiously, suddenly feeling a kind of sadness.

“Doubt you?” Xiao Jiu asked.

“Doubt that I don’t love you enough.”

He suddenly felt more comfortable, as if regaining the chips in this game, holding a moral winning hand filled with grievances, smoothing over his recent nastiness, straightening his back waiting for her answer.

But she only lowered her eyes for a moment, pulled out a napkin to wipe her mouth, saying I’m finished eating.

“Let’s go.” She said again.

Sun Xi scanned to pay the bill, walking out of the spicy hot pot restaurant one after the other with her. Outside, Xiao Jiu stood by the roadside, rewrapping her scarf twice, covering her chin. She didn’t walk toward the parking spot across the street but stopped there.

Then suddenly called out to the person striding toward the opposite side: “Sun Xi.”

He turned back, looking at her.

Xiao Jiu’s voice wasn’t loud, saying gently: “Why don’t you go back first? I’m staying at the bathhouse tonight.”

Sun Xi’s chest felt dully heavy: “What do you mean?”

Xiao Jiu’s eyes dodged slightly, explaining: “Third Uncle hasn’t been in a good mood these past two days. I want to keep him company.”

“Can it be another day?”

Xiao Jiu said: “I’ll just stay one night, come back tomorrow.”

Actually, separating for one night was fine, perhaps even better for their awkward situation. But Sun Xi inexplicably felt anxious, feeling that handful of sand in his hand was slowly flowing downward, unable to grasp it no matter how he tried.

A taxi stopped in front of Xiao Jiu. The driver rolled down the window, asking if she was going. Xiao Jiu said yes. Just about to get in, Sun Xi suddenly took two large steps over, bending down, patting the car door, saying in a deep voice to the driver she’s not going, you go.

The driver still looked at Xiao Jiu, asking are you going or not? Sun Xi’s sinister energy came up again, saying can’t you understand people talking? Get lost.

After that taxi drove away, he grabbed Xiao Jiu’s wrist, pulling her across.

Before reaching the parking spot, Yu Jiuqi suddenly shook him off. She was anxious too, simply saying it out: “Sun Xi, I don’t want to go back today.”

Sun Xi looked at her: “Why?”

She hesitated, saying: “Your emotions aren’t good right now. I’m afraid we’ll argue.”

Sun Xi asked: “Don’t you want to see those letters?”

Xiao Jiu said: “I didn’t say I wanted to see them.”

Sun Xi went to hold her hand again: “Come, I’ll let you see.”

“I won’t look.”

Xiao Jiu dodged him. Sun Xi reached for her again. Xiao Jiu simply stepped back two steps, helplessly saying her true thoughts loudly: “Sun Xi, I really don’t want to see them! I’m afraid to see them!”

Sun Xi was surprised, looking down at her face buried under the scarf—so small, frozen pale white in the subzero night, only a pair of almond eyes suffused with two touches of red, aggrieved yet carrying some anger, slightly lifting her eyes, looking at him.

He felt a heart-stopping fear for an instant. Years of tacit understanding made him anticipate her next words would be bombs, knives, arrows that would demolish his pretense of strength. So when she spoke them, it was like a sentence of judgment he’d been anxiously awaiting finally settled—he suddenly felt a trace of relief.

Xiao Jiu faced him, speaking what had been weighing on her heart for days, making her uneasy yet not daring to mention: “A couple days ago, before Ding Manguang left Stone City, I saw him. Wendu Water Resort has a regular customer who’s an expert in treating pediatric brain tumors. I introduced him. Then he thanked me, said he blessed us, and casually mentioned that when he visited the prison, Sun Yuwen mentioned he’d always known about us, said he’d encouraged you in letters to come back and find me.”

The two touches of red in her eyes deepened, asking: “Is that true?”

There were already very few pedestrians on the street. It was cold. Occasional passersby hurried along with heads down. Sun Xi deflated like a balloon, heavily exhaling a white puff of breath, his body leaning against the car hood, back hunched. Somehow, his gaze falling on the ground, he suddenly laughed.

He laughed bleakly, as if his spirit had wandered.

Then saying as if to himself: “He really… tortures me to death.”

Xiao Jiu heard the coldness in that sentence, extremely unable to bear seeing him like this. She stepped forward, wanting to say something. Before she could speak, Sun Xi raised his eyes to look at her, blatantly frank.

After a moment of silence, he took the initiative, expanding on that sentence.

“Three years ago, he got sick. My grandmother got my address from Tingting and told him. He started writing me letters.” Sun Xi paused, frowning, saying with some disgust, “Talking about his upbringing, about him and my mom, repeating the case details over and over—how they committed the crimes, how they were arrested, how he served his sentence. He said he owed me, hadn’t accompanied my growth, wanted me to understand him, just because I’m his son.”

His gaze shifted to the distance, then after a moment returned to her, sniffing: “I don’t know why either, Jiu. Maybe it was because you had just left me then, maybe I was too unwilling, too curious. I read all those letters. From opening the first letter, I haven’t slept well. Just seeing his handwriting, I physiologically want to vomit, but can’t help… reading them over and over.”

Taking a light breath, Sun Xi rubbed his eyes, continuing: “From that time on, he tortured me letter by letter.”

“A total of nineteen letters. Starting from the fifth, he kept instilling that idea in me, to make me go atone.”

“He learned about our childhood from Grandma. He said I did right, I should protect you, this finger was nothing, said he was proud of me. He said nothing can heal hatred better than love, then urged me to come back…”

Sun Xi looked at Xiao Jiu. Xiao Jiu naturally picked up: “…come back to find me?”

He didn’t respond, acquiescing, instead fiercely pinching his brow center, as if trying hard to suppress something, saying: “You know, I barely saw him since birth. When I was two he went to prison. My impressions of him are all what people said when they hit me and cursed me, what my grandma and uncle embellished and described to me, exaggerated reports on TV and online. I fundamentally toward him…”

Sun Xi stopped, dropping his head, pressing his lips tight, his body extremely painfully tensed in a rigid posture. When he looked at Xiao Jiu again, that superior face was a chaos in the night. He seemed extraordinarily difficult, after much struggle, suppressing his voice, spitting out word by word heavily those mental torments that had troubled him for so long.

“I always felt I should hate him very, very much. If not for him, I wouldn’t be homeless, living this ghost-like life. I also wouldn’t have to break up with the girl I love repeatedly, not even having the right to gain her family’s approval.”

“But Jiu, I don’t know why, I also can’t control being curious about him, being influenced by him.”

“I never accept him, but he seems to be inside my body.”

“He makes me feel dirty, shameful, deserving. I deserve not being worthy…”

Before Sun Xi could say the last two words, Yu Jiuqi suddenly stepped forward two steps, in front of him, forcefully cupping his face, fiercely making him look at her, making him stop, making him come back to himself, then raising her hand to quickly wipe away the tears that hadn’t fallen yet.

Scalding hot—meeting the cold air, her fingertips instantly ice-cold.

Sun Xi took down that ice-cold finger, holding it in his hand. Standing on that not particularly wide small city street, both sides’ withered elm trees hung with colorful lights and lanterns celebrating Spring Festival, his tall body leaning against the dark car hood, pulling the most important person in his life in front of him, gazing at her. After peeling open his pain, mustering courage to face everything.

Yu Jiuqi’s chin lifted from the thick scarf, looking up at the man before her—her man. She suddenly felt immensely guilty for not truly seeing his pain in the past, seeing his soul crushed by his father and bloodline. She knew he couldn’t escape so easily, so she had once tried her best to catch him, but still underestimated the weight of his fall.

She traced his face, recalling his thinness and gloom in youth, then outlining his maturity and sharpness now. Very naturally, she remembered those years they accompanied each other’s growth. Tilting her head, she said to him words that perhaps weren’t so perfect, but every word sincere.

She said: “Sun Xi, I never doubted it.”

His eyes flickered, as if inquiring.

She answered: “I never doubted that you love me.”

Xiao Jiu’s nose tingled, continuing: “We’ve been tossed about by fate together so many times—how could I still doubt this? I’m very certain that in this lifetime, I’ll never meet anyone who loves me the way you do.”

Sun Xi tightly gripped her hand. Clearly having support behind him, yet as if entrusting all his strength to her, refusing to let go.

Xiao Jiu was squeezed painfully by him. Enduring it, she said again: “But I recently just walked out of a cage. I know that love carried with guilt or obligation is cautious, is humble, has no sense of security, is exhausting. It took me over twenty years to muster the courage to walk out. I know how difficult that is.”

“I don’t want you to also carry these constraints and shackles, tremblingly loving someone.”

“Sun Xi, because I also love you so much.”

“I love you very, very much.”

“In this lifetime, I also won’t love anyone else the way I love you.”

“So I don’t want to see you like I used to be—suffering.”

Sun Xi buried his head on Yu Jiuqi’s shoulder, strength completely given to her, his hand sliding down. But Xiao Jiu caught it.

He fell heavily like that on her thin shoulder. On the cold deep winter street, silently weeping, gradually calming.

No one heard his crying, just as no one heard the trembling of his soul.

Only a quiet girl, full of tears, watching the tired bird resting on her shoulder.

…

Xiao Jiu stayed at Wendu Water Resort for three days. Those three days, they didn’t meet, but maintained constant contact, just like before, just like any couple, sharing boring trivial daily life.

Xiao Jiu sent Sun Xi photos of her three meals every day, then asking what he ate, incidentally critiquing his overly careless habits, even directly ordering healthy takeout to be sent upstairs.

Sun Xi sent her messages every day when he woke up and before sleeping. He woke early and slept late. Often it took a long time to get replies, but he never missed once.

When others asked why haven’t you gone upstairs to find your boyfriend recently, Xiao Jiu said too busy, who isn’t rushing for year-end performance?

When others asked Sun Xi this question, he glared back, meaning mind your own business.

But neither of them took initiative to ask the other out, or brought up that earth-shattering night. They tacitly agreed this separation that was neither a breakup nor a cold war was to clarify themselves, to face the future more easily.

Perhaps Yu Jiuqi thought this way.

But Sun Xi wasn’t as calm as he appeared. He remained confused, panicked, and lost.

So on the third night without seeing Xiao Jiu, he drank some alcohol with a few customers, went out to buy cigarettes, happened to pass Wendu Water Resort’s main entrance, and suddenly stopped. He wasn’t drunk, just an impulse—soberly, he walked in.

This was his first time entering Wendu Water Resort. After all, being the boss upstairs and Yu Xiao Jiu’s boyfriend, he was quickly recognized. He endured the strange gazes, bought a regular package ticket, received a wristband, slippers, sauna clothes, and toiletries.

Storing his things, not changing clothes, following that resplendent rotating staircase, going directly to the second floor.

No one guided him. He just explored, finding that office. He knew Xiao Jiu worked there daily.

He hesitated a while, but not too long. Carrying a strong longing and summons, he knocked on the door. No response. Knocked again, still no response. Just when he thought he’d come up empty, a booming male voice came from inside. Come in!

Almost immediately, Sun Xi recognized Yu Kaixuan. Heart apprehensive, but the door was one he personally knocked—even mountains of knives and seas of fire, he had to personally break through.

After pushing open the door, at first glance seeing Yu Kaixuan wearing a huge white lumbar support brace, lying flat on the sofa, tilting his head seeing it was Sun Xi, only stunned for a moment, no unusual expression, just like casually receiving any visitor, saying loudly come in, close the door, it’s noisy outside.

Sun Xi obediently closed the door, standing there. He could feel Yu Kaixuan’s gaze fixed on him, but didn’t dare respond frankly, only lowering his eyes greeting: “Uncle.”

At this moment, someone suddenly came from behind, mouth chattering about some game. Sun Xi turned to look, recognizing Xiao Jiu’s Third Uncle. Almost instinctively, he turned his head aside, avoiding him, like a monster afraid of being seen.

Yu Kaixuan saw this, immediately scolding: “Third Brother, you go out and play! Go catch me two dolls, I want SpongeBob!”

Sun Xi lowered his head, making way. After Third Uncle happily went out, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly feeling self-loathing. That shameful blood was flowing in his pulse again.

He was suddenly at a loss, not knowing why he came, why he stood here. Just thinking of greeting and leaving, Yu Kaixuan who had been observing him spoke first.

“Come here.”

Sun Xi looked at the person lying on the sofa, no movement.

Yu Kaixuan frowned: “Come over, help me turn over.” He added, “Lying down is quite tiring.”

Sun Xi immediately understood, striding over, flustered and clumsy, supporting Yu Kaixuan’s back brace. He braced himself with his arms, but turning over was still difficult.

Yu Kaixuan glanced at him, raising his voice: “You don’t need to hold my waist, just support my butt, use some strength.” He glanced again. “What are you afraid of? You’ve already pulled down my pants.”

Sun Xi pressed his lips. In his heart, somehow, a warm current surged through. Using force, he moved the lower body along with him, helping Yu Kaixuan adjust to a side-lying position.

Yu Kaixuan took a pillow, cushioning it under his arm, his chin pointing at the small sofa opposite: “Sit.”

Sun Xi obeyed, sitting down restrainedly.

Yu Kaixuan’s angle perfectly faced his face. He stared at him for quite a while before slowly opening his mouth: “Looking for Xiao Jiu?”

Sun Xi nodded.

“She went with her Auntie Hong to buy New Year goods.”

Sun Xi nodded again.

Yu Kaixuan paused, asking: “Are you going to your uncle’s for New Year?”

Sun Xi glanced at him, shaking his head.

“Then how will you spend it?”

Sun Xi spoke: “Upstairs, probably.”

“What about when you were in Beijing?”

“At a hotel.”

Yu Kaixuan was silent a while, still staring at his face, suddenly asking: “You’re twenty-seven this year, right?”

Sun Xi looked at him in surprise, acquiescing.

“Still very young.” Second Brother Kai wrinkled his brow, saying, “Don’t be so old before your time.”

Sun Xi quickly exhaled, eyes burning hot. He’d never had this feeling—being struck by a single sentence from someone his father’s age. He dropped his head, silent.

Yu Kaixuan didn’t miss any small detail about him. Looking at him, thinking of that cruelty behind the long years, somehow no longer feeling cold severity, but rather a helplessness after failing to resist fate.

“Sun Xi.”

Sun Xi raised his head with difficulty, blinking at the corner of his eyes.

“I even held you when you were little.”

Sun Xi looked at him in astonishment.

“When you were two years old, I was the one who carried you out of the mountains.”

Yu Kaixuan sighed heavily, eyes moistening, looking past that young man toward the deep winter outside the window.