That day, they didn’t check out of the hourly hotel room until nearly ten in the evening.

After leaving the hotel, the two didn’t rush to take a taxi back to school. Instead, they went to the pharmacy they had visited earlier to buy Band-Aids.

Chun Zao chose children’s ones with animal patterns. When paying, Yuan Ye tossed over two more boxes of those things, one gold-colored, one light azure, with different brands and slogans written on top.

Then he said to the cashier in the white coat: “Ring them all up together.”

Chun Zao looked at the counter, then at him.

Yuan Ye remained unperturbed, raising an eyebrow under her gaze: “What’s wrong?”

Chun Zao pressed her lips together, controlling herself, and waited until they were outside to ask: “We haven’t used up all of today’s yet, have we?”

Yuan Ye was quite frank: “Next time, don’t buy Japanese brands, they’re too tight.”

Chun Zao: “…”

Chun Zao was from the thrifty school of thought and asked rationally: “What about the leftover ones?”

Yuan Ye took out the already-opened small box from his pants pocket, holding it between two fingers and presenting it to her seriously: “Want to take them back as a memento?”

Chun Zao blushed slightly and pushed his arm away: “Take that away.”

Yuan Ye chuckled and put it back.

The two took a taxi and got off at the Southwest Gate. Not far from the entrance was Yiyuan Cafeteria. This cafeteria habitually stayed open late, and there were still some students on the second floor having late-night barbecue and beer.

The savory aromas hit them, and only then did they both feel the emptiness in their stomachs. Before this, thirst had far outweighed hunger.

After eating some simple noodles, Yuan Ye walked Chun Zao back to her dormitory.

As soon as the girl entered, she was predictably teased by her roommate: “Sister Zao, I thought you weren’t coming back tonight.”

Chun Zao’s face warmed slightly as she sat down to put her things away: “How could that be?”

After showering, WeChat showed a new message. Chun Zao opened it to find a message from Yuan Ye.

He had stuck the fancy children’s band-aid she’d chosen on the web between his thumb and index finger, and shared a photo of it.

Chun Zao couldn’t help but smile.

How could one person manage to be both fierce and obedient, both perverted and harmless, both incredibly sexy and utterly adorable?

She couldn’t figure it out.

In their first semester at Peking University, days flowed peacefully, like the gentle, rippling waves of Weiming Lake that had moved softly for years.

Chun Zao made new relationship plans, breaking down each weekend to spend half a day with Yuan Ye.

Like all university couples with stable relationships, they sometimes went out to eat and watch movies, and sometimes just read and studied in the library.

When there were club activities to attend, they would go together.

Chun Zao thus became a part-time photographer for the Cat Association. When accompanying Yuan Ye on his rounds feeding cats, she would also bring her camera to help capture the cats’ adorable moments.

And when she had book clubs or film screenings, Yuan Ye would also wait on benches outside the same café or classroom, never tiring of it.

At the end of that year, they witnessed long-missed heavy snow. Cotton-like flakes wove and tangled between heaven and earth, falling endlessly. After one night, Peking University transformed into the cold palaces and jade towers of poetry. Red walls and white tiles, everything pure and bright. Everyone seemed to walk through a low-saturation traditional painting.

Chun Zao naturally wouldn’t miss such perfect photo conditions. She left early in the morning, linking arms with Yuan Ye as they hurried to the May Fourth Athletic Field.

Many students were already there having snowball fights and taking photos, rolling, jumping, playing around, with snow dust flying everywhere.

Chun Zao glanced at Yuan Ye in his white long down jacket.

The boy had one hand casually in his pocket, his tall figure elegant. The fur-trimmed hood made him look even more handsome and distinguished, truly carrying some of the noble air of an ancient young master draped in a crane cloak.

She pointed to a spot with fewer people: “Go over there, I’ll take a photo of you.”

The boy was replying to messages, and with the noisy environment, he didn’t hear clearly. He looked up: “What?”

Chun Zao asked: “Busy so early in the morning?”

Yuan Ye showed her his phone screen: “Tu Wenwei says he wants to come to our school to see the snow.”

Chun Zao focused and was amused by the username on the other end: “How could someone be called Silly Dog?”

Yuan Ye said flatly: “That’s the nickname I gave him.”

Chun Zao couldn’t contain her smile anymore.

Then she suddenly asked: “What’s my nickname?” She also grabbed the corner of his phone: “No changing it on the spot.”

It wouldn’t also be something similar to Stupid Pig, would it?

Yuan Ye handed over his phone: “See for yourself.”

Chun Zao exited Tu Wenwei’s chat interface, glanced at the pinned contacts at the top, then returned to it with pursed lips.

“Is this okay?” Yuan Ye spoke the nickname aloud: “Miss.”

No matter how much time passed or how many times she heard this address, that thrilling sensation of happiness mixed with embarrassment remained as fresh as ever.

Chun Zao scratched her bangs: “When did you change it?”

Yuan Ye thought for a moment: “After I added your QQ.”

Chun Zao was surprised: “You changed it right after adding me?”

Yuan Ye hummed in confirmation.

Chun Zao couldn’t believe it and confirmed repeatedly: “Second year of high school, first semester? Changed it as soon as you added me?”

Yuan Ye still: “Mm.”

It didn’t seem like a lie.

Chun Zao wanted to laugh, but couldn’t help feeling girlishly indignant: “Why? I didn’t have much of a spoiled miss attitude back then, did I?”

Yuan Ye followed her logic: “You mean you do now?”

Chun Zao didn’t deny: “Now I do have a little bit.”

Being spoiled does easily lead to bad habits, like being arrogant, like being affected, like deliberately making trouble.

She was demonstrating this very point at this moment.

“You’re quite self-aware.”

As soon as the words fell, Yuan Ye reflexively predicted the girl’s equally instinctive physical retaliation. He caught her wrist: “Let me think about why?”

After reviewing for a few seconds, he leaned down to her ear: “Because I wanted to protect, but also wanted to destroy.”

After their intimate experiences, the word “destroy” had taken on special and meaningful connotations between them. Chun Zao felt embarrassed: “Your mind has issues.”

The person beside her was extremely innocent: “Your mind has way bigger issues.”

“Then tell me,” Chun Zao said seriously, “What do you want to destroy?”

Yuan Ye’s answer was very honest and simple: “Tear down the walls.”

“The landlord would scold you.”

“But,” Yuan Ye’s gaze became more distant, as if looking through the snow and mist at scenes from the past: “Watching you lock yourself up every day, I wanted to take you and run away, just like that night when you took me and rushed out. Didn’t matter where we ran to, just keep running.”

Chun Zao’s flickering gaze gradually calmed.

After a moment, she crouched down and grabbed an irregular snowball from the ground, smacking it against Yuan Ye’s chest with a “pah.”

Hit for no reason, Yuan Ye was puzzled: “What was that for?”

Chun Zao brushed the snow pellets from her hands and made a victory sign: “That was a small piece of white wall, smashed it down, yay.”

The white wall crumbled.

Turned to fine snow.

And they would eventually race freely across the snowy wilderness like a white coastline, wild and unrestrained.

Yuan Ye smiled: “Are you smashing walls? You’re smashing me.”

Chun Zao had her reasons: “Who told you to wear white clothes and be tall like a wall. Just making a gesture.”

Yuan Ye squinted and brushed his chest, intending to retaliate.

Before he could act, he was hit twice from behind. The boy turned around to see Tu Wenwei waving from afar, gloating. He wore a slate-blue knitted hat and boots, fully armed and well-prepared, holding a bright yellow snow-grabbing tool. As he walked toward them, he also crafted a perfectly round snowball along the way, shot-put style, ready to hurl it forcefully at Yuan Ye.

This time, Yuan Ye nimbly dodged.

Tu Wenwei had come prepared. Besides being properly equipped, he’d brought two comrades to fully demonstrate the formidable engineering prowess of the boys from Wudaokou Institute of Technology.

The battle officially commenced.

Yuan Ye alone couldn’t fight multiple opponents and was quickly defeated. Midway, he was even tackled into the snow by others who stuffed snow chunks into his hood. He had to take off his outer jacket and pour it out like white sand.

He threw the down jacket to his girlfriend, who had been holding up her camera with a satisfied smile throughout, and complained: “You’re not even helping me.”

Chun Zao caressed her camera, playing the hands-off manager expertly: “This is very expensive.”

Tu Wenwei cackled and provoked: “Come on, running away with your tail between your legs already? So weak? Can Peking University compete or not?”

His boastful words angered several nearby students from their school. Whether they knew each other or not, they pelted him first as a courtesy.

Tu Wenwei got hit on the back of his head and angrily turned to find the culprit.

That boy quickly made an international friendly gesture.

Yuan Ye laughed, shook his fluffy black hair, scattering the crystalline particles everywhere, though he couldn’t shake off the wetness and sparkle on his eyelashes.

He stretched his neck and shoulders a few times, then nimbly charged back in to redeem himself.

This corner of the field immediately descended into chaos.

Chun Zao stood calmly on the sidelines, looking down to admire the close-ups she’d captured on her camera’s small screen, thinking her chat wallpaper could now change monthly.

She’d use this photo for the next photography club salon.

Title: Winter Boyfriend.

—

The winter boyfriend was also today’s sucker, getting pelted with snow all over his body and head, and still having to treat his good buddy and roommates to dinner.

The five sat down in a Western restaurant off-campus.

While waiting for their food, Tu Wenwei rubbed his hands, frozen stiff from playing in the snow, and asked if they wanted to play a five-person team game to warm up.

The other two roommates agreed enthusiastically.

Tu Wenwei didn’t care about Yuan Ye’s opinion and only looked at Chun Zao: “Chun Zao, do you play Honor of Kings?”

Chun Zao was stunned: “Occasionally.” — This was one of her and Yuan Ye’s seemingly “legitimate” couple interactions. Otherwise, if she kept making WeChat voice calls in the dorm, she worried about annoying people.

“What rank are you?”

Yuan Ye propped his chin on the table, suppressing his laughter, and answered for her: “Bronze.”

Tu Wenwei was dumbfounded.

“Your husband has been at peak 2200 since high school, and you’re still bronze?” He looked down on Yuan Ye: “What kind of boyfriend are you? Only caring about your ranking.”

Chun Zao explained: “I just don’t play games much.”

Tu Wenwei asked: “Do you have it downloaded on your phone?”

Chun Zao said, “Yes.”

Tu Wenwei asked the other two roommates: “What about you guys? Want to queue up for a match? Just sitting here is boring anyway.”

“Sure.”

Entering the hero selection interface, Tu Wenwei started causing trouble, blocking Yuan Ye’s attempt to lock in the jungle position: “Give jungle to Chun Zao.”

Yuan Ye: “?”

“I’m not very good at it…” Chun Zao said hesitantly.

Tu Wenwei said: “It’s fine, you just clear the jungle. Brother Tu will carry.”

Three minutes into the game, Chun Zao indeed hadn’t left the jungle area once, not stealing minions from lanes, much less roaming or providing support.

All lanes were peaceful. Except for Yuan Ye on the top lane, who would glance at his adorably focused girlfriend clearing the jungle while laning, unconsciously curving his lips.

When the second round of jungle monsters respawned, Chun Zao continued her jungle-clearing custodian behavior.

Walking to the blue buff area, Tu Wenwei, playing a mage in mid lane, suddenly asked: “Chun Zao, what’s your birthday?”

Chun Zao looked up at him: “January 2003.”

Tu Wenwei immediately transformed into a simp: “Sister, give me the blue buff.”

The two roommates beside him cringed and looked away in unison, falling silent.

Yuan Ye looked at him incredulously: “What do you mean?”

Tu Wenwei smiled without answering.

Chun Zao looked at the blue-glowing stone figure on her screen: “Is it this one?”

Tu Wenwei: “Yes.”

The girl obediently stopped there, no longer touching the blue stone monster.

“I’m coming, sister.” Tu Wenwei gracefully circled forward to take over the blue monster.

When it had only a sliver of health left, Yuan Ye, playing Yao on the top lane, used three dashes to jump over walls, flashed with golden light, and the young swordsman took the buff with one slash, his ultimate returning him to the original position.

Smooth as flowing water, all in the blink of an eye.

Tu Wenwei’s game character stood frozen, staring at the empty blue circle, motionless.

“You’re dead today.” Tu Wenwei said coldly, having had his blue buff stolen.

Chun Zao, who had been focused on killing small monsters nearby and was oblivious to the situation, only sensed something was wrong and asked in confusion: “What happened?”

Tu Wenwei’s roommates snickered at the scene.

Chun Zao turned to ask Yuan Ye: “What exactly happened?”

“Nothing.” On screen, the golden-robed sword-wielding youth circled her, the blue aura at his feet particularly dazzling. He wasn’t in a hurry to return to his proper position, ignoring both minions and towers, just randomly casting skills on the ground, showing off who knows what. Finally, he faced her and stopped gracefully:

“Thank you, sister.”

(Because some readers said they couldn’t understand the gaming scenes, I wrote another, more mainstream version with higher general acceptance, which you can find in the author’s notes if you don’t understand games. I kept the gaming version in the main text because, after much deliberation, I prefer the gaming version—I think it’s cuter and more natural. Anyway, both sides are satisfied, and everyone can choose and read according to their needs.

[While waiting for their food, Tu Wenwei rubbed his frozen hands and asked about his good friend from the rival school during this ceasefire period:

“After finishing this semester at Yuanpei, are you planning to go to the general class?”

Yuan Ye used a napkin to wipe the snow water from his bangs, revealing his clean, full forehead: “Who said I was just getting by?”

Tu Wenwei said: “Your course load this semester is neither fully liberal arts nor science nor engineering, just touching the surface of everything. Isn’t that called getting by?”

Yuan Ye leaned back into the booth sofa: “That’s called being a tri-disciplinary scholar, thank you.”

Tu Wenwei made gagging sounds.

The unfamiliar terms in their conversation were confusing. Chun Zao turned to ask Yuan Ye: “General class? What’s that?”

“General Artificial Intelligence Class,” Yuan Ye explained, “A course specially set up by our college. I want to focus on information science next semester. I’ll interview for the general class admission in the first semester of sophomore year, so I asked Tu Wenwei about some textbooks and literature in this area.”

Tu Wenwei was surprised: “Your husband didn’t tell you?”

Then he said cattily: “That’s quite embarrassing, how come I knew first?”

Yuan Ye glanced at him: “Why would I give her unnecessary worries about something undecided?”

Chun Zao muttered in response: “What kind of worry is that?”

Yuan Ye: “If I say it is, then it is.”

Tu Wenwei’s eyes nearly rolled to the sky: “But you dump it on me without any courtesy, huh?”

Yuan Ye was indifferent: “Of course, tormenting you brings me the most joy.”

Tu Wenwei was speechless.

The waiter brought several cups of black coffee included with the set meals. Tu Wenwei took one from the middle, sipped it—the taste was slightly bitter—so he reached for the sugar cube container in the center of the table.

But he found it had already been taken by Yuan Ye and placed in front of Chun Zao. He even personally used the wooden tongs to clip two cubes for her, gently dropping them into her coffee cup, acting as if no one else existed: “Try it, see if it’s sweet enough.”

This familiar “I have a wife and you don’t” nauseating feeling was unbearable.

It was truly unbearable. Tu Wenwei started causing trouble.

He looked at Chun Zao: “Chun Zao, what’s your birthday?”

Chun Zao looked up and blinked: “January 2003.”

Tu Wenwei immediately transformed into a simp: “Sister, could you pass me the sugar cubes in front of you?”

The two roommates beside him cringed and looked away, falling silent in unison.

Chun Zao was stunned for a moment, silently accepted this form of address, found the sugar cube container in front of her, and handed it over with both hands.

Yuan Ye followed Chun Zao’s gesture, fixing his incredulous gaze on Tu Wenwei’s face, asking coldly: “What do you mean?”

Tu Wenwei acted as if he hadn’t heard: “Sister is so nice.”

Chun Zao smiled lightly: “It’s nothing. You don’t need to be so polite, just call me by my name.”

Tu Wenwei: “Okay, sister.”

He smugly looked at Yuan Ye across from him, switching back to his normal tone: “What do you mean? I was born in March. Chun Zao is older than me. What’s wrong with calling her sister?”

“Is there a problem?” he asked his roommates, seeking agreement.

The roommate on the left suppressed his laughter, absolutely refusing to get involved in personal grudges.

Tu Wenwei looked at Chun Zao again with a sincere expression: “Chun Zao, is there a problem?”

Chun Zao thought about it, it seemed like—

“There’s no problem,” she replied.

And someone who was two months older than Chun Zao was left speechless.

Tu Wenwei continued being obnoxious, sniffing around: “What’s that smell? The vinaigrette in the salad?”

The four boys had chosen steaks, while Chun Zao had chosen baked rice. When the steaks were served, round one winner Tu Wenwei poured black pepper sauce over his, holding a fork in one hand and knife in the other, contentedly cutting up the sirloin steak on his plate.

Yuan Ye glanced at him, his tone casual, unclear whether it was praise or criticism: “Brother Tu is so good at cutting steak?”

Tu Wenwei forked a piece into his mouth and offered his philosophy: “With no woman in your heart, your blade naturally becomes divine.”

Chun Zao’s baked rice hadn’t arrived yet, so she was sipping coffee. Hearing this, she choked slightly and quickly pressed the napkin to the corner of her lips.

Yuan Ye curved his lips and pushed his untouched steak in front of Chun Zao.

Chun Zao was stunned, pulling her hands back to the edge of the table, looking at him sideways: “What are you doing?”

“Help me out, suddenly don’t know how to cut it.” Yuan Ye tilted his head, also passing over the knife and fork, his dark eyes bright: “Thank you, sister.”]