December. In Hu City, the temperature plunged suddenly and cold winds swept through, making the already bleak hospital feel even icier.

Family members stayed in the wards with their patients, only reluctantly stepping out for activity when doctors and nurses chased them out.

Maiya was one of the rare ones who was actually willing to go outside on her own — children, after all, could hardly bear the loneliness.

Maiya had lived in the hospital for a long time now; it had practically become half her home, so she had been to nearly every corner of it, big and small.

If she wanted to hide, it was effortless.

That noon, Tong Shuqu made his usual rounds, going first to Maiya’s room as always. But when he pushed open the door, he found the room quiet and empty, sunlight streaming through it.

The little one had skipped her nap time again.

Tong Shuqu sighed helplessly, went out and asked a nurse where Maiya had gone. The nurse answered honestly: “She went out with the little girl next door.”

Tong Shuqu frowned. “Next time don’t let her run off during nap time.”

The nurse was helpless too. “She doesn’t want to nap. She hasn’t napped in a long while now.”

Tong Shuqu remembered once asking Maiya why she wouldn’t nap. The little one had been lying on her side in the blankets, her small face thin to the point of having almost no flesh left.

Even her chin had thinned into a sharp point.

It made her eyes look even bigger — but they weren’t bright.

Even with the light on at the head of the bed, it seemed unable to light up her eyes.

She’d looked at Tong Shuqu, her small hand carefully emerging from under the covers to take his.

“I don’t want to sleep anymore. I’ll always have time to sleep forever, won’t I?”

Her voice had been very quiet, yet it made Tong Shuqu’s heart lurch violently.

Thinking of this, he turned to glance at Maiya’s ward, looking out through the window, as if he could see the traces left by the wind that had passed through.

This year’s winter seemed colder than any before.

And harder to endure.

—

In a corner of the pavilion, Maiya, dressed in a little dinosaur onesie, was talking with another girl.

This girl was the one who had quarreled with Maiya before. Later, Liang Yan had, as promised, sent her several autographed photos, and the little girl had immediately turned around and become good friends with Maiya.

Maiya bore no grudges and made plans to go out and play with her whenever there was nothing else to do.

Today wasn’t planned in advance — it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Neither of them wanted to sleep; they wanted to see snow.

But it wasn’t deep winter yet.

Where would there be snow?

“Ugh, why don’t you just look at me instead,” Zhou Xue said. “I practically am snow.”

Maiya laughed. “No you’re not.”

Zhou Xue was older than Maiya and a bit more sensible. She sighed. “Then let’s just wait.”

Maiya’s mood sank. She lowered her eyes, crouched down, and dragged a small twig across the ground again and again, saying quietly, “I might not get to wait that long.”

Zhou Xue let out an “Ah?” and asked, “Why not?”

Maiya said, “My health isn’t good.”

Zhou Xue asked, “Aren’t you getting surgery?”

Maiya nodded. “But the surgery can’t be done in winter. I can’t have it.”

Only then did Zhou Xue understand, letting out an “Ah,” and she patted Maiya’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. You’ll definitely see spring.”

Maiya said nothing, only lowered her head and dragged the twig harder against the ground.

After a long moment, she finally spoke. “Xiao Xue, if something that shouldn’t have had to be so hard became hard only because someone else took something of yours away — would you be angry?”

Zhou Xue asked, “What do you mean?”

Maiya didn’t know how to put it into words either. She thought for a long while before deciding to just say it plainly. “You know Princess Seven, right? She could have become a real princess, but someone else stole that from her.”

Zhou Xue gasped. “That’s way too much!”

Maiya, as if she’d found a kindred spirit, said, “Right? You think it’s too much too?”

Zhou Xue said, “Of course it’s too much — isn’t that basically stealing!”

Maiya said, troubled, “But our Director doesn’t want Princess Seven to know. She says if Princess Seven finds out now, it’ll make her sad.”

“Why would it make her sad? Can’t she just chase the thief away and become the real princess?” Zhou Xue asked.

Maiya was stumped by the question. She shook her head, dazed. “I don’t know.”

Zhou Xue didn’t understand either, but she had her own opinion. “Well, if it were me, I’d be furious, absolutely furious. And if someone knew the truth, I’d want her to tell me.”

Maiya froze, hesitating. “R-really?”

“Of course it’s true.” Zhou Xue stepped forward and gripped Maiya’s hand. “Let’s tell Princess Seven. If you don’t tell her, you’re lying to her.”

Lying to her…

Maiya couldn’t accept this idea.

But she didn’t understand it either, and couldn’t work it out.

She thought about it for a long time, thought about it nearly every day.

She thought back to the time she’d accidentally overheard Director Lu talking with a stranger, an old man.

Director Lu had said that in the old Director’s diary, she’d seen that the Liang family had originally agreed to take Qiao Qi away, but for some reason, Qiao Qi hadn’t been there that day.

Later, Qiao Qi had come back, and the old Director never told her.

Because Cai Hong had already been taken away by then.

Maiya remembered the stranger saying: “Since there’s no hope left, there’s no point letting her be disappointed again.”

But Director Lu had said, quite angrily, “Is that fair to Qiao Qi?”

The stranger had shot back, “Fair? Who are you asking for fairness from?”

Then he’d said, “Honestly, it doesn’t matter anymore now. Whoever they originally meant to take, it can’t be changed at this point. They know nothing of each other, and that’s exactly why they can live with a clear conscience, why they can strive without any dark thoughts. If they knew, and someone ended up feeling wronged, then what? This truth would only bring them harm, never any good.”

“Besides, Qiao Qi would be devastated.”

Would be devastated.

Maiya had held onto that line firmly.

Director Lu had said, “But Qiao Qi really has had it so hard.”

Maiya had held onto that line too.

Actually, Maiya had still been quite young at the time and didn’t know very many characters, but she’d wanted so badly to see what the old Director’s diary actually looked like.

So after Director Lu and the stranger left, Maiya had secretly slipped into the director’s office, and on the desk there, she’d seen a photograph.

In the photograph was, unmistakably, Liang Xumo.

So the thief was Liang Xumo.

This wicked woman.

Maiya bit her lip, deeply torn. “But what if I tell them and they don’t believe me?”

Zhou Xue thought it over and said, “Steal the diary!”

Maiya’s eyes lit up. “Good idea!”

The two children instantly agreed, itching to run straight back to the orphanage right then and steal the diary.

After the two of them left, something clattered out of the corner — a water bottle.

The bottle rolled clattering all the way into the bushes, and only then did Liang Xumo seem to come back to herself, as if waking from a trance. Her hands were shaking.

Not until her phone rang did she numbly answer it. The person on the other end said a few words. She was silent for a long while before saying, “I won’t be discharged.”

“No rush.”

“I have something I need you to do.”

“No need — just let me know the moment she comes back to the hospital.”

“It has to be the instant she’s back at the hospital — tell me right away.”