When Chen Xi was little, after the Laba Festival, the New Year atmosphere at home and outside would grow stronger day by day.

The small city had changed a lot over the years. The Dang River had been developed into a scenic waterfront, and Shazhou Night Market had become another check-in spot besides the Mogao Caves and Crescent Lake at Singing Sand Mountain.

Old city districts were being torn down piece by piece, replaced with brand-new commercial housing.

Chen Xi’s life was also quietly changing.

Fan Mingsu’s face had aged into a wrinkled walnut, and Chen Hesheng could no longer climb the rock walls of the Western Thousand Buddha Caves.

Yang Shan had given birth to one child and was pregnant with another. The former big brother had become Han Susu’s boyfriend.

Looking back occasionally brought melancholy – they could never return to how things used to be.

But in those old streets lined with willows, time’s footsteps remained unhurried…

The corner store still sold the dried apricots Chen Xi had eaten as a child.

Beard Zhang had changed from uncle to grandfather, but the yogurt sweet dumplings under his quilt still tasted the same as before.

On the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, Chen Xi’s repair shop officially closed for the New Year.

Qin Zhan shouted from outside: “Xi Jie, ready to go?”

Chen Xi responded: “Just a moment, coming.”

She stuck the last blessing character on the small corner door leading to the VR arcade, took one last look at the cleaned-up shop, and ran outside with a smile.

Qin Zhan’s car was parked in front of the shop, with a “Safe Travels” couplet stuck on the rear window – Fangfang’s doing.

As soon as Chen Xi got in the car, Xiao Min also excitedly ran out from the VR arcade and jumped into Liu Boyang’s car in front.

She smiled, feeling a warmth rise in her heart.

Sitting in the car, Chen Xi felt that time passed too quickly – Beijing time was so fast that autumn turned to winter in the blink of an eye.

Qin Zhan suddenly produced a string of candied hawthorn like magic and handed it to Chen Xi.

“Jie, have a bite first to line your stomach. We’re drinking until we drop tonight.”

Chen Xi took the candied hawthorn speechlessly. They were going to drink heavily tonight, and this guy wanted her to line her stomach with stomach acid?

The two cars roared away one after the other, leaving behind flying dust.

And the big red lanterns in front of the two shops, swaying in the wind.

Today was Qin Zhan and Fangfang’s housewarming day. Everyone was going to warm their new home and celebrate the New Year together.

Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve, and they would each return to their own homes and families.

The house Fangfang bought was in Yangjia Bridge, near an elementary school, convenient for Guoguo’s future schooling.

The house had a two-bedroom, one-living-room layout. Both bedrooms faced south and were decorated simply and warmly.

As soon as Chen Xi and the others entered, they saw Ruirui and Guoguo lying on the coffee table playing with a puzzle.

Yang Shan came out of the kitchen with her big belly, directing Chen Xi to give the two children some water.

Qin Zhan changed his shoes and walked into the kitchen, asking ingratiatingly: “Wife, what can I do?”

Yang Shan teased Qin Zhan with a laugh: “Have you gotten your marriage certificate? Stop calling me that.”

Qin Zhan chuckled and whispered in Fangfang’s ear: “When will you give me a proper status?”

Fangfang blushed and pushed him out of the kitchen.

Chen Xi leaned against the kitchen doorway, smiling as she watched them fool around.

She suddenly remembered her and Qin Lie’s agreement to return to Dunhuang to get their marriage certificate – that seemed like a very long time ago.

Fangfang used the air fryer Chen Xi had given her to heat a plate of chicken and onion rings for the two children to snack on.

On the counter, the rice cooker Yang Shan had given was steaming.

In the oven that Han Susu had given, a cumin and chili-marinated fish was sizzling with oil.

The aroma of grilled fish and rice mixed, making Chen Xi instantly hungry.

Soon, Han Susu and Yang Guan arrived too.

Everyone showed their skills, creating a table full of delicious food.

Outside the window, the last ray of sunlight disappeared into the night.

In the warm living room, Qin Zhan raised his wine glass. His usually fast-talking mouth suddenly became clumsy.

He wanted to say that this silly woman Fangfang had secretly bought the house behind his back, which annoyed him.

But it didn’t matter anymore – his whole being belonged to her anyway, in this life and the next.

Every day now was a good day, and he would give her and her daughter even better days in the future.

Seeing Qin Zhan unable to get a word out for a long time, Liu Boyang said impatiently: “Can you do it or not? If not, let me speak.”

Qin Zhan quickly said: “This is my and Fangfang’s first New Year together, and, well, I’m too happy.”

Everyone at the table laughed.

Fangfang’s face turned red as she secretly glared at Qin Zhan.

But Qin Zhan shamelessly looked at Fangfang and grinned broadly.

He raised his glass and suddenly said: “Listen up, everyone. We’ll do this every year – keep drinking until we’re old.”

Liu Boyang slammed the table: “Let’s drink.”

A huge firework suddenly bloomed outside the window, and everyone raised their glasses wishing each other Happy New Year.

Ruirui and Guoguo also raised their orange juice, mimicking the adults’ toasting.

Chen Xi took a sip of wine and eagerly reached her chopsticks toward the grilled fish Fangfang had made. One taste made her eyes widen with delight.

Yang Shan’s main dish was tomato-braised oxtail – tender, fragrant, and appetizingly sweet and sour.

She ladled a small bowl for each child and watched them eat with gusto, smiling contentedly.

Liu Boyang loved experimenting with cooking at home.

Today, he showed off his skills with a very difficult candied sweet potato dish, which thrilled the two little ones.

Han Susu had brought her homemade trendy taro paste bucket today, urging everyone to try her dessert before they’d barely touched the main dishes.

Except for the two silly little ones, no one was willing to humor her.

Because her pumpkin tart last time was so terrible that everyone still had trauma.

Halfway through dinner, Han Chao finally arrived dusty and tired, carrying a large bag of foil-wrapped grilled skewers.

Yang Shan couldn’t eat much barbecue due to her pregnancy, but she still enjoyed two skewers.

Because Han Chao had grilled them himself, the taste was just different.

Yang Guan sat next to Chen Xi, and halfway through drinking, he suddenly asked: “Isn’t Qin Lie coming back for the New Year?”

Chen Xi smiled and said helplessly, “I doubt it.”

With Nebula 9’s design released early by competitors, Qin Lie had to launch Nebula 10 in the shortest time possible to turn the tide.

Qin Zhan put down his glass and said with some regret: “We’re just missing my brother.”

Chen Xi raised her glass and said with a smile: “There’s plenty of time ahead. I’ll drink for him.”

She drained her glass in one gulp, the burning sensation traveling down her esophagus into her stomach, creating a bitter-sweet taste.

But deep in her heart, she remained steadfast.

Strangely enough, she found she wasn’t the same Chen Xi as before.

After returning from Beijing, she had thought her relationship with Qin Lie would cool down.

Even if they didn’t break up immediately, they would retreat to their initial ambiguous stage.

Her dictionary contained no dragging things out, much less compromise.

She also knew Qin Lie’s personality – if she grew cold, Qin Lie would never chase after her to make amends.

The two would gradually drift apart, perhaps occasionally texting or calling to chat about this and that.

Slowly, they would face reality, face their choices, watch the threads of fate intersect and separate, then go their separate ways with dignity.

But the situation was opposite.

When her plane landed, she couldn’t help texting Qin Lie to report her safe arrival.

Qin Lie immediately called, asking if she was tired.

Chen Xi discovered she didn’t seem angry at him at all, nor was she holding a grudge.

Seeing Qin Zhan and Liu Boyang coming to pick her up in the distance, she suddenly smiled and said to Qin Lie: “Dunhuang is wonderful. Come back soon.”

She said it so naturally that she didn’t even notice how sensitive those words had once been.

On the other end of the phone, Qin Lie suddenly laughed softly.

“Alright, wait for me.”

Chen Xi suddenly snapped back to attention, looking at her chattering friends around her, and couldn’t help but take a few photos to send to Qin Lie to make him envious.

Qin Lie immediately sent back a miserable emoji.

Chen Xi texted: “Still busy?”

Qin Lie replied with a “mm.”

A few seconds later, he sent two more words: “Miss you.”

Yes, miss you, not a moment passes without missing you.

Chen Xi smiled and replied: “I’m having such a great time, I don’t have time to miss you.”

Qin Lie sent back an angry emoji with the message: “Just you wait.”

Chen Xi put down her phone, smiled, picked up her chopsticks, and continued eating.

She was waiting, steadfastly waiting – waiting to get their marriage certificate with him, to spend a solid lifetime together.

Yang Shan asked when Qin Zhan and Fangfang were planning to get their marriage certificate.

Fangfang glanced at Qin Zhan, lowered her eyes, and said nothing.

Until today, Qin Zhan’s parents still haven’t given their approval.

But Qin Zhan didn’t want to wait anymore, constantly pestering her to get their certificate.

But Fangfang still felt some regret – for such a major life event, without parental blessing, would Qin Zhan not regret it?

In the silence, her hand was suddenly grasped by Qin Zhan. She looked up at him.

She saw him looking deeply at her, smiling brilliantly.

“After the Spring Festival holiday, we’ll get our certificate.”

Fangfang was stunned for a moment and quickly shook her head: “No, no, it’s too sudden.”

Qin Zhan looked at Fangfang, his gaze determined: “How long do you want me to wait?”

Fangfang’s nose stung, and she suddenly had no words.

Qin Zhan began to speak slowly: “Before I met you, I was impulsive and rash. My parents, my brother – no one thought I was reliable.”

He gently squeezed Lin Fang’s hand, looking at her seriously: “You made me realize how reliable a person I am.”

He glanced at Guoguo, who was sitting on a small stool with Ruirui, gnawing on oxtail, his gaze suddenly becoming tender.

“I’m a father now, too. Guoguo is my daughter. I want to give her good food, good clothes, hope she’ll succeed, hope she’ll have a good life when she grows up.”

“Now I finally understand parents’ hearts, too. They want nothing else but for their children to live well.”

Qin Zhan withdrew his gaze and looked at Fangfang again.

“I know you want to wait for their approval, but I don’t want to wait anymore, Fangfang. They won’t abandon me – they’re just worried about me.”

“As long as we live well, they’ll accept us someday.”

Lin Fang looked at Qin Zhan, her eyes gradually moistening.

“After we get the certificate, we won’t have a wedding banquet. How about a honeymoon wedding?”

Lin Fang’s tears spilled over, but she smiled brilliantly.

Qin Zhan nodded vigorously: “Yes, whatever you say goes.”

Cheers erupted around them.

Liu Boyang raised his beer and said seriously, “You can skip the wedding banquet, but you can’t skip our celebration drinks.”

Qin Zhan clinked glasses with Liu Boyang: “Nonsense, how could we skip your drinks?”

Yang Shan glanced at Guoguo and said with a smile, “Leave the child with me. You two go on your honeymoon – play as long as you want.”

Hearing that Guoguo could stay at her house, Ruirui was so excited she almost rolled on the floor.

Amid laughter and chatter, Chen Xi silently poured herself a drink and drained it with a quiet smile.

Seeing their happiness made her feel happy too.

Han Susu cheered along while feeling envious.

She wanted to get married, too.

She secretly glanced at Yang Guan sitting beside her.

Yang Guan seemed to sense Han Susu’s gaze and gently squeezed her hand under the table.

The two children got sleepy by ten o’clock. Fangfang had them wash up and sleep in Guoguo’s bunk bed.

The remaining adults drank until dawn.

Several people walked out of the apartment building with warm, tipsy feelings, delighted to discover it had been snowing outside.

Sparse snowflakes danced lightly in the warm yellow glow of street lamps.

In the crisp air, a strong New Year atmosphere permeated.

Yang Shan exhaled a puff of white breath and said with a smile: “Auspicious snow promises a good harvest.”

Chen Xi looked up at the deep night sky, wondering if it was also snowing in Beijing at this moment.

Liu Boyang casually pulled Xiao Min’s down jacket hood over her head, took her hand, and ran into the deep night.

Their light laughter scattered along the way.

Everyone smiled watching them run away. Yang Shan pointed to the car parked downstairs: “Come on, let’s take you home.”

Han Susu was about to follow Yang Shan when Yang Guan took her hand.

He said: “It’s not far. Let’s walk back.”

Han Susu looked up at Yang Guan.

Snow was falling, and he stood under the building’s lights, his eyes clear as still water, containing only Han Susu looking up at him with a smiling face.

Han Susu said with feigned difficulty, “I’m wearing high heels. I can’t walk. What should we do?”

Yang Guan said quietly: “I’ll carry you.”

As he spoke, he crouched down.

But Han Susu couldn’t bear it and pinched his shoulder.

“Just kidding. I can walk.”

Street light fell on Yang Guan’s handsome face as he smiled and said quietly: “It’s not far. Come up.”

Han Susu was overjoyed and happily jumped onto Yang Guan’s back.

Just like when they were children, she would shamelessly push Yang Shan aside and monkey onto Yang Guan’s solid back.

Having him all to herself.

After Yang Guan carried Han Susu for a stretch, Yang Shan’s car caught up from behind.

Chen Xi rolled down the window and waved at the couple by the roadside.

Han Susu, arms around Yang Guan’s neck, smiled and waved back at Chen Xi.

The car sped past, gradually disappearing down the empty road.

Between heaven and earth, aside from the falling snow, it seemed only the two of them remained.

Han Susu buried her face in Yang Guan’s warm neck and suddenly called softly: “Yang Guan Ge.”

Yang Guan hummed in response.

Han Susu: “You used to carry me like this before.”

“Mm.”

Yang Guan’s slightly smiling voice came through the crisp air.

Han Susu couldn’t help cupping his defined face, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

“Back then, I think I wanted to kiss you like this.”

She said with a grin.

Yang Guan carried Han Susu, walking lightly along the lamp-lit roadside. He hummed again but said nothing more.

She rested against his neck, face toward him, her gentle breath brushing his neck.

“From now on, you’re my person.”

She said with a grin, “I am your eyes.”

Just then, the small intersection ahead showed a red light.

Han Susu reminded him: “Red light, stop.”

Yang Guan stopped as told. He turned his head, lips carrying a faint smile, wanting to look at her.

He couldn’t see, yet seemed to see.

Snowflakes fell on his neck, cool and refreshing. Han Susu suddenly asked: “Are you cold?”

Yang Guan shook his head: “Not cold.”

But Han Susu still rubbed her hands together and warmed his reddened ears.

“Green light.”

Her voice was light and cheerful.

Yang Guan stepped forward, crossed the small intersection, and with Han Susu’s guidance, stepped onto the curb.

He remembered this place – an old stone bridge. The area underneath had been dry since his childhood.

One summer evening, he had brought Yang Shan, Chen Xi, and Han Susu here to catch crickets.

Han Susu was mischievous, climbing over the railing to walk on the bridge edge. She slipped and fell into the ditch below.

Yang Guan scrambled down into the ditch to carry her up. Fortunately, it wasn’t deep, and Han Susu only suffered minor scrapes.

He carried her quickly toward the clinic. The little girl bounced on his back, still clutching a handful of wildflowers.

By the time they reached the clinic, Han Susu had woven the wildflowers into a crown and placed it on Yang Guan’s head.

“Ge, you’re so handsome.”

Her little face was scraped, but she smiled carelessly, looking at Yang Guan with innocent, pure affection.

Yang Guan stopped at the bridge head and set Han Susu down.

The snow had grown heavier without notice, falling in flurries and wrapping them in a white world.

He lowered his head, his gaze falling on Han Susu’s rosy face.

Though he couldn’t see, his mind clearly outlined her appearance at this moment.

The most beautiful girl in the world stood before him, face upturned, smiling at him.

Behind her was a beam of light, illuminating his entire world.

His lips moved, and he suddenly said quietly: “Susu, marry me.”

Han Susu suddenly froze, staring at Yang Guan.

Yang Guan waited quietly. Time suddenly became incredibly long.

Snowflakes rustled onto their shoulders, interweaving with his heartbeat in a thrilling symphony.

Yang Guan cleared his throat softly. His voice was somewhat tight, yet certain.

“Be my wife. Stay with me for life. Whatever kind of life you want is fine.”

“If you want to stay home, we’ll stay home. If you want to go wild across the world, we’ll go wild. I don’t need you to sacrifice anything. I just want every day of your future to be as happy as now.”

After what seemed like forever, Han Susu suddenly hummed forcefully, her voice carrying a hint of tears.

She threw herself into Yang Guan’s arms, hugging him tightly.

Through teary eyes, she saw that a thin layer of snow had accumulated in the dried-up pit under the small bridge.

She remembered one summer when she fell under the bridge and grabbed a handful of colorful wildflowers.

Those flowers were too beautiful – no one was worthy of them except Yang Guan Ge, who carried her.

She wove the flowers into a crown and placed it on his head.

Secretly marked her claim on his life.

On New Year’s Eve afternoon, Chen Mei and her husband came early with braised beef and lamb, carrying their prepared holiday meat. Their daughter, studying in Nanjing and preparing for graduate school exams, didn’t come home for the New Year.

Chen Hesheng swept the courtyard as usual, cleaning his side first, then sweeping Grandpa Guan’s courtyard next door.

Chen Mei and her husband busied themselves in the kitchen. Liu Qing couldn’t do any housework but felt too embarrassed to sit idle, insisting on staying in the kitchen to help Chen Mei.

Fan Mingsu put on a brand-new cotton outfit, wore the new hat Chen Xi bought her, and the new cotton shoes her granddaughter sent from Nanjing. She sat in the house playing mahjong with several elderly neighbors.

Chen Xi took some sliced beef and lamb from the kitchen and walked to the doghouse in the courtyard, placing the meat in San Huang’s food bowl.

Chen Hesheng glanced at Chen Xi crouching by the doghouse but said nothing.

Chen Xi straightened up, looking at the freshly organized doghouse, and said softly: “It’s been so long, and still no sign of coming home.”

Chen Xi only learned after returning from Beijing that San Huang had suddenly disappeared a month ago.

Fan Mingsu and Chen Mei searched for days in Yangguan Town but couldn’t find him. They returned to Yangjia Bridge to look but still found nothing.

San Huang seemed determined, stubbornly refusing to let Fan Mingsu find him.

Chen Xi was sad for several days, tears flowing intermittently.

Fan Mingsu comforted Chen Xi: “Don’t cry anymore. San Huang isn’t dead – he just left.”

Chen Xi asked sadly: “Why did he leave?”

Fan Mingsu looked toward the dark window and suddenly smiled slightly, as if across invisible time and space, exchanging a distant smile with San Huang.

“Dogs have spiritual understanding. He’s old and doesn’t want to die in front of his family.”

This was San Huang’s final tail-wagging way of saying “I love you so much” to Fan Mingsu and Chen Xi.

Chen Xi was sad for a while. One day, she thoroughly cleaned San Huang’s doghouse inside and out, laid new bedding, and washed his dusty food bowl until it was spotless.

She had a feeling that perhaps on some sunny afternoon, she would come out of the house and see San Huang lying in his little den taking a nap.

She was still waiting for him to come home.

Firecracker sounds grew livelier as night fell, with every household waiting for the Spring Festival Gala and eating their New Year’s Eve dinner.

Chen Xi was pouring wine for the elders when her phone rang with a video call invitation – it was from Qin Lie.

Chen Xi answered and asked if he had eaten dumplings.

Qin Lie turned the camera around, showing his office desk with a large computer and a takeout box of dumplings in front of it.

Chen Xi said helplessly: “Working overtime even on New Year’s Eve?”

Qin Lie smiled: “Almost finished.”

Qin Lie wished each elder a Happy New Year and apologized to Fan Mingsu and Chen Xi’s parents for not being able to come back for the New Year.

Chen Hesheng and Liu Qing consoled Qin Lie understandingly.

But Fan Mingsu, departing from her usual smooth warmth, only gave a cool acknowledgment and said nothing more.

After Chen Xi ended the video call, Fan Mingsu said bluntly: “Can’t even meet face to face on New Year’s Eve – even the Cowherd and Weaver Girl aren’t as hard up as you two.”

At the dinner table, the family suddenly fell quiet.

Liu Qing hesitated, then asked tentatively: “Chen Xi, will you and Qin Lie always be in different cities?”

Chen Xi looked at her family’s grave expressions and nonchalantly ate a dumpling.

“If he doesn’t come back, we’ll keep traveling back and forth. Anyway, breaking up isn’t an option.”

Liu Qing hesitated again, then said: “Chen Xi, your father and I have spent most of our lives apart. I don’t want to see you suffer the same as us.”

Chen Xi looked at Liu Qing and asked back: “If you had to choose again, would you not want Dad?”

Liu Qing blurted out: “How could I not?”

Chen Xi: “There you have it.”

After dinner, the family sat in the main room watching the Spring Festival Gala. Chen Xi called Sensen.

The little guy answered immediately, and his slightly mature voice came through the phone.

“Chen Xi Jie, it’s New Year. Are you and Grandma both well?”

Hearing Sensen’s proper greeting, Chen Xi’s heart nearly melted.

She said with a smile: “We’re all fine. How are you?”

Sensen said something, but it was drowned out by a burst of firecrackers.

Chen Xi shouted into the phone: “Didn’t hear you, speak louder.”

She seemed to hear a soft sniffling sound. After the firecrackers ended, it was still Sensen’s obedient, calm voice: “Pretty good.”

But Chen Xi felt the little guy’s voice lacked some youthful lightness.

She asked Sensen: “What did you have for New Year’s Eve dinner?”

Sensen was silent for a moment, then said: “Dumplings.”

Chen Xi made a sound of acknowledgment and asked: “Where’s your dad? Let me talk to him. I want to wish him a Happy New Year.”

But Sensen said: “My dad went out.”

Chen Xi found this strange – not spending New Year’s Eve watching the Spring Festival Gala with family, what was he doing out?

She wanted to ask more, but Sensen asked: “Chen Xi Jie, are you all well?”

Chen Xi’s heart instantly melted completely. She sensed Sensen was reluctant to hang up.

“We’re all fine.”

After saying this, Chen Xi couldn’t help asking: “Sensen, how are you doing there? Are you happy?”

Sensen hummed in acknowledgment, not mentioning life in Lanzhou, and asked: “How did Ruirui do on her final exams? Did she pass math?”

Chen Xi smiled: “Barely – she almost didn’t pass.”

An old-fashioned sigh came through the phone, though the voice couldn’t hide its childishness: “I knew it.”

Chen Xi suddenly said: “Sensen, come spend winter break here. I’ll pick you up.”

After another moment of silence, the little guy seemed to use all his willpower to say: “No need. School starts again in two weeks, and I need to work hard on my homework.”

They didn’t talk long before firecrackers started again outside, and Sensen reluctantly hung up.

In the Spring Festival Gala, the hosts began the midnight countdown.

In the noise of the gala and firecrackers, Chen Xi silently looked toward the fireworks-bright night sky outside.

Her heart was divided into three parts:

One part remained in Dunhuang’s peaceful years,

One part stayed in Beijing’s wordless tenderness,

And one part drifted to nearby Lanzhou.

All causing deep worry.