Even with his palm running warm, there was no way Lu Yicheng was about to ask Jiang Ruoqiao to take the scarf back.

Beside his own feelings, keeping her warm was the only thing that truly mattered.

The two of them went through the same reminders with Lu Siyan at least three times over.

Lu Siyan’s pajamas were clearly half a size too small—Jiang Ruoqiao had bought them online, and they were extremely cute. The moment he lifted his arms, the top rode up to reveal his round little potbelly and bellybutton. “I know, I know—stop it already, nagging Dad, nagging Mom.”

Of course, both Lu Yicheng and Jiang Ruoqiao understood that repeating the same thing too many times would make a child start tuning it out.

But what could they do—they still had to say it. Every single day they had to say it, so it would truly stick.

Before leaving, Jiang Ruoqiao pulled the scarf all the way up to cover her mouth and nose, then crouched down and gave his curly head of hair a fond ruffle, “Little Bajie, I’m off.”

Lu Siyan: “?”

“I’m Sun Wukong! Sun Wukong!”

After the door swung shut, they could still hear Lu Siyan screaming at the top of his lungs in vigorous self-defense.

The hallway was fairly narrow, so Lu Yicheng let Jiang Ruoqiao walk ahead and followed behind her. The two of them made their way out of the residential building one after the other—outside was a world of white, snowflakes still drifting down from above, and the moment they opened their mouths, warm breath turned to mist. Left to his own devices, Lu Yicheng generally wouldn’t bother with an umbrella for light snowfall like this. But tonight he had thought ahead, bringing a plaid umbrella. He’d originally planned to hand it to her, but then realized her hands were exposed and she would be cold holding it—so he simply kept it himself and opened it over them both.

Beneath the small plaid umbrella, Lu Yicheng and Jiang Ruoqiao walked side by side.

The ground was covered in a layer of snow. Each step let out a soft, crisp crunch.

Jiang Ruoqiao had buried almost half her face in the scarf, leaving only her bright, clear eyes visible.

Her gaze rested on Lu Yicheng’s hand, the one gripping the umbrella handle.

Strong, sure, and steady.

As long as she could remember, his hands had always struck her as powerful—and clean. They flew across keyboards, producing line after line of code. They moved deftly to cut spareribs into perfectly even pieces. And now, as at this very moment, they held an umbrella over her.

The feeling she had for Lu Yicheng was completely different from what she’d felt for any of her three previous relationships.

It was a slow and steady current—flowing without pause, without interruption.

Lu Yicheng’s gentle reminder was still warm in her ears: “I wasn’t sure if you’d have medicine in your dorm, so I bought some for you. You can take one tablet before bed. I asked at the pharmacy—it’s three times a day, one tablet each time, and it’s best taken before meals. These few days, try to eat a bit lighter, but still keep up your nutrition.”

With the scarf in the way, Lu Yicheng couldn’t see the smile on Jiang Ruoqiao’s face.

“Mm, got it.” That was her reply.

Lu Yicheng continued, “I looked it up online—the tablets are a bit large, so they can be hard to swallow. Apparently a lot of people say they don’t taste bitter at first, but then they can’t quite get the tablet down so it starts to taste bitter in the mouth… The medicine is pretty effective though. If you find it bitter, there are honey loquat throat lozenges in the bag too.”

“Got it, nagging Dad.” Jiang Ruoqiao teased.

Lu Yicheng paused, then let out a helpless laugh, “Sorry.”

He was a little like that, truth be told—a little too prone to going on.

Siyan had already called him out on it multiple times.

Still, he couldn’t seem to help it—he just had to remind her. Because she genuinely did not seem like someone who was very good at taking care of herself.

Jiang Ruoqiao: “Hahaha.”

She couldn’t quite explain what she was laughing about.

Lu Yicheng started laughing too.

The street was quiet. It wasn’t particularly late, but because of the snow, the little stalls that were usually bustling had closed up early, and the students preferred to stay tucked inside their dormitories.

“I had no idea what a photography shoot was actually like until today.” Lu Yicheng mused, “No job is easy.”

Jiang Ruoqiao smiled, “It’s alright. After the university entrance exams I wanted to buy a laptop and a phone, so I found a job tutoring middle schoolers. That month-and-a-bit was the most miserable stretch of my life. From that point on, ‘teacher’ was officially crossed off my list of career aspirations.”

Lu Yicheng laughed, “That bad?”

He cast his mind back over his own tutoring years, “I thought it was fine, honestly.”

“It was genuinely, deeply terrible.” Jiang Ruoqiao said. “Not everyone has your patience. I remember teaching a student how to solve a problem, and he said he understood—but the next day he’d make the exact same mistake again. And that cycle repeated itself who knows how many times. I was exhausted by it. That’s just not money I’m cut out to earn. Given the choice between tutoring and standing in a snowstorm for hours, I’d take the snowstorm.”

It was a curious feeling.

Jiang Ruoqiao never talked about her work with most people.

And yet all along this walk, she and Lu Yicheng had been swapping little frustrations and funny moments from their part-time jobs, and somehow it had been genuinely enjoyable.

Until Jiang Ruoqiao spotted something in the scenery ahead and came to a stop. She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone, unlocked it, and held it out to Lu Yicheng, “Lu Yicheng, take a photo for me—this spot is gorgeous.”

The snow on this stretch of ground was pristine and unmarked, and tiny string lights hung from the trees. It was practically a photographer’s paradise.

Lu Yicheng was suddenly at a loss: “…”

Before he had even recovered, Jiang Ruoqiao was already in position beneath the trees.

As someone who, despite her protestations, was absolutely a blogger who knew how to be photographed, Jiang Ruoqiao had a thorough understanding of angles—she knew precisely which angles made her legs look longer, which ones made her face look smaller.

Jiang Ruoqiao asked, “Did you get it?”

Lu Yicheng finally snapped to attention—a brief flurry of fumbling—his voice a little flustered, “Not yet, not yet.”

In his hands was her phone.

Jiang Ruoqiao’s phone case was red, and on the back of the case, two characters had been written in conspicuously large, bold font: 暴富. Get Rich.

He looked at the camera frame—it was filled with her. Almost imperceptibly, the corner of his mouth curved up slightly. He pressed the shutter, “Got it.”

Jiang Ruoqiao brushed the snowflakes off her coat—showing absolutely no signs of being ill—and came over in high spirits, taking the phone from him and flipping through the photos he’d taken. Her expression slowly solidified. She looked up at him, “Lu Yicheng, I’ve finally found something you’re not good at.”

Lu Yicheng felt uneasy, “I didn’t do well?”

“That’s an understatement!” Jiang Ruoqiao had no words. She grabbed him and launched into an emergency tutorial on photography basics: “You have to adjust the lighting like this, and my feet should be right at the horizon line—it makes my legs look longer. And this angle makes everything look more natural. The light from those little bulbs falls right on my face—it’s like a natural ring light…”

They were standing quite close to each other.

Close enough that Lu Yicheng had started out genuinely trying to learn—but then his concentration began to drift.

Because a snowflake had landed on her eyelashes and melted into a tiny drop of water.

His heartbeat quickened. He tried hard to focus, but the tiny water droplet had a firm hold on his attention and would not let go.

“Did you get all that?”

He had heard everything she said after that—but hadn’t processed a word.

Lu Yicheng answered honestly: “No.”

Jiang Ruoqiao sighed in resignation and looked at him, “Now you know why I said tutoring that month-plus was the most miserable stretch of my life.”

Lu Yicheng, out of habit: “Sorry.”

“Never mind—everyone has their strengths and weaknesses!”

They continued walking toward the school, exchanging small talk and randomness along the way. For Jiang Ruoqiao, this was a genuinely strange feeling.

The walk wasn’t long to begin with, and before they knew it, they had arrived at the foot of the women’s dormitory building. Jiang Ruoqiao noticed that the knuckles on Lu Yicheng’s umbrella-holding hand had gone red from the cold. Her conscience finally stirred, and she said, “Wait here a moment—I’ll be right back down.”

Without waiting for his reply, she turned and jogged into the dormitory building.

Lu Yicheng watched her go, full of energy, and thought: she can’t be that unwell.

He had no idea what she was doing, but he stood there patiently, still holding the umbrella.

Luckily, at this hour the girls in the women’s dormitory were practically sealing themselves in against the cold, and nobody was wandering around in weather like this. Otherwise, the sight of Lu Yicheng standing beneath the snow in such steadfast, uncomplaining devotion would absolutely have been mentally filed away as the year’s most heartrending romance.

Jiang Ruoqiao ran back to the dormitory room, slightly out of breath.

She found her hot water bottle on the desk and plugged it in to charge.

Not even ten seconds had passed before her impatience got the better of her, “Why is this thing charging so slowly?”

It had already been ten seconds and it still wasn’t done—what was going on?!

Couldn’t the manufacturer improve the design a little?!

Yun Jia happened to come in hugging her own hot water bottle and, hearing Jiang Ruoqiao’s complaint, assumed she needed to use it. She held her own out to her, “Here—use mine.”

Jiang Ruoqiao glanced at Yun Jia’s hot water bottle.

Very cute—shaped like a little dog, fluffy and soft.

One glance was all she needed. She said decisively, “No, that won’t do.”

Yun Jia: “?”

Jiang Ruoqiao continued waiting for her own hot water bottle to charge. It didn’t actually take that long—but Jiang Ruoqiao felt as if she had waited an entire century, which meant the Lu Yicheng downstairs must have been waiting for two centuries by now.

When the red charging light on the hot water bottle finally winked out, Jiang Ruoqiao let out a breath of relief, and—clutching the hot water bottle—strode back out of the room.

Yun Jia: “? What is wrong with her?”

Luo Wen: “…Who knows.”

Gao Jingjing pushed her glasses up her nose, “My strong suspicion is that she’s gone to deliver warmth to someone.”

Jiang Ruoqiao truly was delivering warmth to Lu Yicheng.

Specifically, she shoved her own hot water bottle into his arms.

All at once, a bundle of warmth landed in Lu Yicheng’s embrace. He looked down at the pale grey hot water bottle, then looked up at her, bewildered.

“Hot water bottle for you.” Jiang Ruoqiao gestured awkwardly at his hands, “Your hands must be completely frozen by now.”

Then she tugged at the scarf around her neck, her eyes curving into a smile: “Fair exchange.”

Lu Yicheng: “Thank you.”

“Go home now—the snow might get heavier later.” With Jiang Ruoqiao urging him on, he left—umbrella still in hand—and through some impulse she couldn’t quite account for, Jiang Ruoqiao fished out her phone and photographed the moment.

A vast white expanse of snow. The trees along the roadside blanketed in white.

The warm haze of lamplight glowing softly in the cold air.

A young man in a black down jacket walking away, umbrella open, his posture straight and upright.

After taking the photo, Jiang Ruoqiao turned and went back inside, studying the shot in her gallery as she walked, quietly murmuring to herself: Jiang Ruoqiao, oh Jiang Ruoqiao—with photography skills like yours, you’ll never go hungry~

This photo had turned out really beautifully.

Full of atmosphere and feeling.

Lu Yicheng in the snowy night.

She had captured his figure against the endless white snow, walking away.

Was it the snowy night she was photographing—or him?

…

That snowy night, after Lu Yicheng returned, he sat staring at the now-cooled hot water bottle on the coffee table.

Then he rose and went to the window, watching the snow outside. And then he went into the study and took a sheet of colored paper from the drawer, and with practiced hands, began to fold a rose.

One rose each day.

They say it takes twenty-one days to form a habit. By now, folding roses had become a habit of his.

In the women’s dormitory, the room was lively. After washing up, Jiang Ruoqiao sat quietly gazing at the scarf she had placed on her desk.

The scarf needed to be returned to him.

She’d have to give it back the next time she saw him—tomorrow, or the day after.

But…

Jiang Ruoqiao’s eyes drifted to the row of perfume bottles on her makeup organizer. Like a little thief, she crept over and took them out, then pulled a few more bottles she had banished to the back of her drawer and added them to the collection.

She had worn this scarf for so long—shouldn’t it have picked up just a little of her own scent by now?

Which perfume smelled the nicest?

Jiang Ruoqiao, with great seriousness, tested them one by one—and still couldn’t decide. Finally she glanced sideways at the three roommates, quickly tucked the scarf into the wardrobe beside her desk, gave a light cough, and called out, “Any of you free right now? I need help picking a perfume, beauties~”

Within moments, all three of them had gathered around, standing in a row staring at the perfumes Jiang Ruoqiao had lined up on her desk.

Yun Jia was the first to speak: “Why so ceremonious?”

Jiang Ruoqiao was already regretting this spontaneous impulse of hers.

“What’s the perfume for?” Luo Wen picked up a bottle and sniffed it, “Is there some kind of occasion?”

Yun Jia cast a glance at Jiang Ruoqiao, “Look at her expression—a young lady all shy and bashful…”

Jiang Ruoqiao: “??”

That’s not me! That’s not what’s happening!

“Obviously she’s looking for a man-slaying fragrance for a date.”

“Slaying who?” Luo Wen played along with Yun Jia and asked with exaggerated confusion.

Yun Jia tapped her chin, “What a pointless question. Who bought your breakfast this morning?”

Jiang Ruoqiao finally erupted in indignant embarrassment, “Get out, get out—what do you mean ‘man-slaying,’ how tacky can you be!”

—