Lin Tao hung up in a rush and ran out of the room. She barely managed to call out a quick word to her parents before flying out the door — she didn’t even stop to put on a jacket.

From the tenth-something floor to the ground took only two minutes.

The elevator doors opened. Lin Tao burst out.

The winter night was cold and biting. Snow had piled up along the roadside in drifts — one heap after another like a procession of small, rolling hills. On either side of the path, the bare parasol trees were hung with strings of colored lights, flickering in clusters of light and color.

The young man was standing under a tree. Light and shadow rested across his shoulders, tracing a straight, flowing line. A shadow spilled across the ground at his feet. He had his head bowed, looking at his phone, his other hand holding a blue insulated box. His posture was straight and lean.

At the same moment Lin Tao pushed through the door, the young man standing under the tree seemed to sense something. He suddenly lifted his head and met her slightly rushed expression.

Their gazes found each other across the space between them. The next second, Lin Tao went straight toward him, stopping right in front of him, her breathing a little unsteady. “You…… why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Jiang Yan put his phone away in his pocket and was about to speak — then noticed what she was wearing. His brow furrowed. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his embrace, his tone urgent. “It’s this cold and you came out without a jacket?”

Lin Tao hadn’t felt the cold at first, but the moment he said it, she really did feel a chill creeping in. She curled up obediently in his arms and asked again: “Why didn’t you let me know in advance?”

He gave a quiet sound, freed one hand, and brought up the WeChat conversation between them on his phone, holding it in front of her face. “Read it yourself.”

It was all messages from him. The earliest had been sent over an hour ago:

Are you home? I’m coming over.

Brought you some dumplings.

……

Hey? Where’d you go?

Not picking up — is your battery dead?

……

The most recent message, sent twenty minutes ago:

I’m downstairs at your place.

Lin Tao: “……”

Guilt settled heavy inside her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and curled her fingers tight around his sweater. “I’m sorry. Tonight I was eating dinner with my parents and we talked about some stuff. I didn’t get a chance to check my phone.”

Then she rose onto her tiptoes and kissed his chin. Her voice dropped into a soft, coaxing tone. “I really didn’t mean to. Please don’t be upset……”

His expression softened considerably — but he wasn’t entirely satisfied with her half-hearted effort. He lowered his head and caught her lip, drawing on it gently. His voice came out slightly blurred. “I’m not upset.”

The two of them lingered close together downstairs for a while.

Jiang Yan finally lifted her out of his arms. His fingertip touched her slightly swollen lip, then pulled back a fraction. He placed the insulated box in her hands. “Here. Take it home and eat it.”

Lin Tao gave a small sound of acknowledgment and instinctively hugged the insulated box to her chest. She looked reluctant to part ways. “Are you leaving already?”

“What else?” Jiang Yan looked at her. He held her icy cold hands. “You came out dressed like this — where could I possibly take you?”

“……” Lin Tao bowed her head, toeing at his shoe with hers. “I was in a hurry.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He pulled her close again.

Lin Tao pressed her face against the warmth of his chest. “Then what if you came up and stayed for a bit? I already told my parents we’re together.”

Jiang Yan paused.

She smiled slightly. “Don’t worry. They’re not opposed to it.”

“Even if they’re not opposed to it — I still can’t come up right now.” Even setting aside the fact that the timing was wrong, just given their current state, no place seemed quite appropriate.

Jiang Yan freed one hand to pinch her earlobe gently. “Alright. Go on up.”

“……” Lin Tao lowered her head and said nothing.

Jiang Yan exhaled, loosened his hold, and gave in. “Fine, then. Let’s go inside. It’s too cold to stand here.”

The building’s lobby, being fully enclosed, was considerably warmer than outside. By the elevator was an open stretch of space with a long bench.

Jiang Yan was feeling a bit warm. He took off his jacket and sat down on the bench.

Lin Tao held the insulated box and sat beside him. “Can I eat this right now?”

Jiang Yan looked at her. “Up to you.”

She nodded. “Then I’ll eat now.”

She undid the lid. Inside, sixteen dumplings were arranged in neat, orderly rows. When she lifted the lid, a faint curl of steam drifted up, carrying with it the fragrant smell of the filling.

Lin Tao picked one up with her fingers and popped it in her mouth. One cheek puffed out. She chewed carefully, and her voice came out a little muffled from the food. “Are all of these mushroom and pork filling?”

“Not sure. There should be other kinds in there too.”

Auntie Guan had prepared four or five different filling varieties. While they were wrapping, the dumplings could still be told apart — but once they went into the pot and were boiled, no one could say which was which anymore.

When Jiang Yan had packed the box, aside from a few he’d chosen deliberately, the rest had been picked at random.

“They’re really good.” Lin Tao said, and picked up another one. She bit through the thin, delicate wrapper, and the rich filling inside burst with savory juice. She was deeply satisfied.

Lin Tao ate three or four in a row. Jiang Yan had been watching her the whole time. She noticed and paused to look at him. “What?”

He shook his head. His gaze swept the inside of the insulated box. “Nothing.”

Lin Tao assumed he wanted some and held the insulated box out to him. “Do you want some?”

“I already ate.”

She didn’t think much of it, and chatted with him for a bit before giving in to temptation and picking up another. She bit down — and her teeth hit something. Hard. Solid. A bit like……

Lin Tao suddenly realized. She turned to look at Jiang Yan, disbelief all over her face. “You put a coin inside?”

He gave a sound of acknowledgment, drawing out the syllable. He leaned toward her. “You found it?”

“I think so.” Lin Tao ate the half without the coin and held the other half in her fingers. Nestled inside the plump filling was a one-yuan coin.

She picked the coin out and gave a short laugh. “Didn’t you just say that was nonsense?”

Jiang Yan pulled a tissue from his pocket and held it out for her to wipe her fingers. “I decided you were right.”

“What?”

He looked up and met her gaze. His eyes were full of a warm smile. “Whoever finds the coin in their dumpling will have good luck in the new year.”

Lin Tao’s eyes curved happily. She held out the remaining half dumpling to his lips. “Then you eat this half too. That way we’ll both have good luck.”

He didn’t say anything — he simply leaned forward and ate it right from her hand, exactly as she offered it.

The two of them looked at each other, both suddenly feeling a little silly, and both started laughing.

A winter night. The howling cold wind sweeping up fine, dense flurries of snow.

Propitious snow that heralds a bountiful year. Spring winds welcoming the new year.

This New Year, Lin Tao had gained many things — and also lost some things.

But all in all, what she gained was more than what she lost.

A few days after New Year, Fang Yisong and Lin Yongcheng somehow carved out time again and took Lin Tao traveling around the country.

During the time Lin Tao was away from Xicheng, Jiang Yan set aside one day to visit the cemetery and pay his respects to Fang Haiyan. On his way out, he spotted Yu Fengyan’s car at the entrance. He quietly slipped away, taking a side path.

Enough time had passed that he couldn’t really say he hated Yu Fengyan anymore. What he could say was that from now on, that’s just how it would be — a stranger connected to him by blood.

He would not seek closeness, nor want anything, nor give anything.

After coming back from the cemetery, Jiang Yan rarely went out. During the days when there was nothing in particular to do, he would stay in the small room at the internet café and work through practice papers. In the evenings, he’d go over to Guan Che’s house for dinner, sit with the two elders and chat for a while. And just like that, the day would be over.

It was only when he had nothing to occupy him that he would find himself rather missing a certain heartless person.

These days continued until two days before school resumed, when Lin Tao came back from her travels. Guan Che organized a gathering and called out Xu Yichuan and the others.

The dinner spot was a long-established hot pot restaurant in the city center.

It was very close to Lin Yongcheng’s company, so Fang Yisong drove past on her way out and dropped Lin Tao off along the way.

Before Lin Tao got out of the car, Fang Yisong handed her a membership card for the hot pot restaurant. “We had a collaboration with them before. They gave us a card — take it and use it with your classmates.”

Lin Tao had been receiving membership cards for various shops and malls from Fang Yisong for years. She accepted it obediently. “Thanks, Mom.”

“If it gets late, have the driver come pick you up.”

Lin Tao nodded, pushed open the door, and got out.

The long-established hot pot restaurant wasn’t located inside a high-traffic shopping mall, but in a lane beside one.

It faced south from the north in a courtyard-style complex. Two stone lions stood at the entrance, imposing and dignified. Straight ahead past the entrance was a performance stage, though it wasn’t yet time for the evening’s show.

On either side were long, winding covered walkways that curved their way back to a large interior courtyard. Following the walkways inward, two lotus ponds opened up on either side, the water clear enough to see straight to the bottom.

Guan Che had reserved a private room on the second floor, with a direct view down onto the performance stage below.

When Lin Tao was led in by the staff, the others hadn’t arrived yet. She waited for a while. From downstairs came the soft, rising-falling notes of traditional opera — the evening’s performance was about to begin.

Lin Tao sat in the private room and finished a cup of hot tea. Then a message came through in the group chat from Guan Che saying they’d hit traffic and would be about ten minutes late.

Feeling restless, she stood up and left the room.

The courtyard design of the restaurant gave it an extra layer of warmth and life. The first floor’s large open hall at the rear, mostly for walk-in customers, was at this hour already nearly full — sparsely at first, but filling in steadily. Hot pot steam rose and drifted through the air.

Lin Tao wound her way along the walkway until she reached the window on the opposite side — directly facing the performance stage. She propped her chin in her hand and listened for a bit, though she couldn’t quite identify which opera piece was being performed today.

She was just about to turn and head back when someone blocked her at the window.

Jiang Yan had come from the internet café with no traffic delays. He arrived at the private room and found no one there, and was just about to call Lin Tao when his gaze drifted idly out the window.

The girl was leaning against the sill — a casual, languid posture. Thoroughly captivating.

……

He stepped forward. His long arm braced against the window frame, trapping her within the circle of his arms. His nose brushed against hers, his voice a low, muffled rumble. “What are you wandering off to? Hm?”

Whether he meant she had run off on him during the trip or that she hadn’t stayed put in the room — it wasn’t entirely clear.

Lin Tao pressed both hands against his warm chest and took a step toward him, her lips brushing the corner of his mouth. She was very good at knowing how to handle him. “I missed you so much.”

Whatever thin thread of displeasure Jiang Yan had been holding onto dissolved away completely. He shifted his gaze to the side, rested his head on her shoulder, and laughed. “I really don’t know what to do with you.”

He was tall, and leaning down like this, Lin Tao’s back was pressed against the window frame and was getting uncomfortable. She shifted restlessly in place.

Fortunately Jiang Yan quickly straightened up. His gaze dropped to the red cord around her neck. He reached out. His cool fingers brushed her neckline and gave it a light pull.

“What’s this?” He hadn’t even finished asking before the red cord was drawn out in full, revealing what hung from it.

Half a one-yuan coin.

He froze.

Lin Tao came back to herself. She looked down, then reached into her pocket and produced the other half of the coin, holding it out to him with a smile. “A New Year’s gift. I was going to give it to you after dinner.”

Jiang Yan took it from her. But his fingers were still pinching her half of the coin, turning it gently between his fingertips. “This is the coin from inside the dumpling?”

“Yes.” Lin Tao held his hand. “I had them thread it on a black cord especially for you. Do you like it?”

He said nothing. He looped the cord around his wrist several times — a perfect fit — and answered her with action. “I like it. I like it very much.”

Lin Tao had originally thought to have it strung up for him to wear around his neck, the way she wore hers. But he had gone ahead and put it on his wrist without a second thought.

She ran her fingers over it. “Wearing this on your wrist — does it not quite match your school tyrant image?”

Jiang Yan gave a low laugh. He raised his wrist lightly, and said in an unhurried tone: “A school tyrant wearing this — it doesn’t match no matter where he wears it.”

“……” Lin Tao muttered a quiet complaint.

He laughed. His hand cupped her cheek. He leaned down close and said in a soft, measured voice: “But a boyfriend wearing it — it matches perfectly, wherever he puts it.”

Lin Tao’s lips parted slightly. She met his gaze. Words escaped her.

The two of them were very close. Gaze, breath, everything tangled together.

Jiang Yan’s throat moved. He was just about to lean in when a loud voice sliced through the air from across the way.

“Hey, you two over there! This is not appropriate for minors!!!!!”

Jiang Yan straightened up. He looked over and saw four heads crammed into the opposite window, watching the spectacle with great enthusiasm. “……”

Lin Tao was all but dragged and carried into the private room by Jiang Yan. She truly had no face left to walk back in and sit down for a meal — it was too mortifying. Getting kissed by her boyfriend in public and having an audience was something else entirely.

Jiang Yan had grabbed her by the wrist, and he was already commenting with mild reproach: “If you’re like this now, by the time they play pranks on the two of us at our wedding, you’ll be so embarrassed you’ll want to run away.”

Lin Tao hadn’t been thinking nearly that far ahead. Her face was a vivid, unmistakable red. “I’m seriously not eating. I’m not hungry. I just remembered my mom might have said something about me coming home early.”

Jiang Yan laughed despite himself, reached an arm around her and pulled her close. He dropped his voice near her ear: “If you don’t go in right now, I won’t either. We both disappear at the same time — do you think they’ll come up with thoughts that are even less appropriate for minors?”

“……”

“Okay.” Jiang Yan let go of her hand. “I promise — once we walk in, not one of them will dare say a single word.”

He said it with absolute confidence.

Lin Tao thought about how the others did sometimes show a little wariness around Jiang Yan, and decided not to overthink it. She followed him into the private room.

As it turned out, there is always someone who is not afraid of dying.

Hu Hanghang decided that since it was a blade either way — stretched out or pulled back — he might as well strike first.

He waited until both of them were seated, cleared his throat, and said: “Brother Yan, I call you ‘Brother’ because you’re older than all of us.”

Jiang Yan shot him one sharp look.

Hu Hanghang looked right past it. “Little Sister Tao, I call you ‘Little Sister’ because you’re the youngest among us. Brother Yan — do you catch my meaning?”

“I’ll catch your mother.” Jiang Yan landed a precise kick under the table, his voice low and even. “If you don’t know how to talk, say less.”

Guan Che, who was a full month older than Jiang Yan, also opened his mouth in a perfectly at-ease manner: “Jiang Yan, this is still a public venue. You should really be a bit more mindful in the future.”

Lin Tao: “……”

This is what you call them not daring to say a single word?

Fortunately, as much as the group liked to cause a commotion, they knew when to hold back for Lin Tao’s sake. After joking around and stirring things up for a while, they settled down. The dishes that had been ordered earlier were brought in one after another, and once everyone started eating, the conversation shifted to other topics.

Xu Yichuan had heard a rumor somewhere earlier. He fished a beef ball out of the pot and spoke up: “Have you all heard? Blackie apparently spent this winter break doing intensive training at some closed-campus school in another province. After he came back, he supposedly hinted to several class homeroom teachers that next semester he plans to implement military-style management — starting with our second year.”

Hu Hanghang was taken aback. “What? Why not start from first year?”

“Apparently he feels first years are too inexperienced, and third years are already too far along to bother. So we’re the only ones in the middle he can do it to.”

Lin Tao found it rather novel. “Military management — does that mean we’d all have to live in the dorms? Wake up early for morning runs, run again in the evening, and have to assemble at a whistle’s blow?”

“I’m not entirely sure about that part.” Xu Yichuan said. “But I did look up the school rules for that closed campus online. There was so much I didn’t remember everything, but I caught one item.”

Song Yuan asked: “What was it?”

“Boys have to cut their hair to a buzz cut. Girls need a full above-the-ear short cut.” Xu Yichuan scratched his head. “And something like girls can’t wear skirts either.”

Guan Che, the only one at the table who wasn’t a student at Number Ten High, remarked without a stake in the game: “That’s insane.”

Xu Yichuan was fairly relaxed about it. “Though I don’t actually know if it’s true. It’s all secondhand from other classes.”

Through the entire conversation, Jiang Yan hadn’t participated at all. He was busy cooking things in the pot and fishing things out for his girlfriend. When he saw her cup was empty, he refilled it.

The others had been absorbed in the conversation and hadn’t paid attention — but once the talking stopped, they noticed his actions were a bit too obvious. All four of them set down their chopsticks and stared at him for a moment.

Jiang Yan placed the freshly cooked shrimp paste dumplings he’d just scooped out into Lin Tao’s bowl. He noticed their stares, paused, and looked at them without the faintest sense that anything was out of the ordinary. “What?”

Guan Che rubbed his chin, expression somewhat hard to describe. “I just can’t believe it. Are you really still the Jiang Yan I know?”

“……”

Knowing a remark without any kindness was coming, Jiang Yan grabbed an orange from the fruit dish and threw it straight at him. “Shut it.”

Guan Che was not about to take that lying down. He peeled the orange, then threw the peel back.

Jiang Yan pushed his chair back, rolled up his sleeve, and stood. “Haven’t done this in a while. Should we have a go?”

“Let’s do it. I’m not scared of you.” Guan Che rolled up his sleeve too, raring to go.

Hu Hanghang, Xu Yichuan, and Song Yuan had already quietly shuffled their chairs to the side as a unit. A storm was about to break.

Lin Tao had no idea why the two of them were suddenly acting so childishly over nothing, only that when those two got childish together, it usually didn’t end quickly.

She set down her chopsticks and tugged at the corner of Jiang Yan’s clothes. “I’m done eating. Are you going to eat more or not?”

“You’re done?” Jiang Yan looked down at her. He suddenly remembered that he’d been too focused on taking care of her and had barely eaten anything himself. He pulled his chair back in and sat down. “I’ll eat a bit more.”

All traces of the standoff from a moment ago vanished. He was as well-behaved as a puppy.

Guan Che, Song Yuan, Xu Yichuan, and Hu Hanghang: “……”

After the meal, Hu Hanghang and the others clamored about going to karaoke. Lin Tao had just come back from traveling and didn’t have the energy for it. She was planning to head home.

If she wasn’t going, Jiang Yan certainly wasn’t going either. Guan Che, seeing Jiang Yan wasn’t joining, felt like there was a bit of a generation gap between him and the others who were two years younger. He didn’t feel especially inclined either.

With that, everyone found they weren’t that keen on going after all.

Xu Yichuan suggested: “What if we just go to your internet café and play for a bit?”

The suggestion got unanimous approval.

Lin Tao went along too.

Previously, when the internet café was open, Hu Hanghang and the others had always gone directly to a private room. Now, with the café still on break and no staff around, the main floor was empty.

Hu Hanghang quickly found a seat he’d had his eye on for a long time. “I’ve been wanting to sit here forever. There’s always someone here whenever I come.”

The four guys scattered to various spots throughout the main hall.

Jiang Yan wasn’t particularly interested in sitting with all of them. “Want to go upstairs and hang out for a while?”

Lin Tao felt her boyfriend was being a little too clingy, and shook her head. “It’s fine. You play with them. I’ll keep you company down here.”

“Works for me.”

Jiang Yan picked a spot against the wall. Lin Tao sat inside, right next to him.

The game they were playing was a hugely popular MOBA competitive title. Lin Tao watched for a few rounds, found no real interest in it, turned on her own machine, and pulled up a Korean variety show she had been following.

The others were spread out at a distance, all wearing headsets and talking.

Throughout, Lin Tao could hear Hu Hanghang and Xu Yichuan’s voices rising and falling — shouting and cursing. Guan Che and Song Yuan chimed in occasionally. But Jiang Yan — from the moment the match started, he barely said a word.

When a round ended, Lin Tao saw him take off his headset. She leaned over. “You can actually swear, you know. I don’t mind.”

“Hm?” He tapped the mouse to queue for a new match, sparing her a glance. He didn’t follow her meaning. “Swear about what?”

Just then, Hu Hanghang let out one across the room: “You useless idiot.”

He understood. His eyes were angled into the light, his features not quite clear in silhouette. His tone was cool and unhurried. “I don’t need to swear.”

“They’re not worth me swearing at.”

“A bunch of noobs.”

Lin Tao: “……”

Jiang Yan was very focused when he played — a different kind of focused from how he looked working through practice papers in the classroom. His expression was neutral. His long fingers kept moving across the keyboard. After a while, he would raise his hand and lightly rub his brow bone, then plunge back into another round of dominance.

Lin Tao rarely saw him like this. Her gaze gradually drifted from the monitor to his face.

He was wearing a black sweater today, the neckline sitting a little low, revealing the clear line of his collarbone. He was turned to one side, gaze fixed on the screen, his jaw clean and sharp.

His sleeves were pushed up a little, exposing his pale, strong forearms. On his right wrist was the coin cord Lin Tao had given him.

With each movement of his hand on the mouse, the coin would tap faintly against the table, a very small, subtle sound.

Lin Tao stared for a while. Then, taking advantage of a pause in his game, she reached out and touched his wrist.

Jiang Yan stiffened. His hands stopped moving. The character on screen was caught off guard and killed by the opponent. He released the mouse, turned his head to look at her. “What is it?”

Lin Tao propped her chin in her hand, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

Then she touched it again.

She was being entirely too well-behaved.

And entirely too out of line.

Jiang Yan remembered the interrupted kiss from earlier. His throat moved. He reached over and drew her toward him, leaned in, and caught her lip. His voice came out with a slight roughness.

“Stop touching it.”

Author’s Note: Brother Yan: getting hard, damn.