That night, Guan Che’s words stayed with Lin Tao — but she never brought them up with Jiang Yan. She simply became a little more attentive and focused during the tutoring sessions he made time for.

Life in Year Three was tightly packed and uneventful, one day much like the last, a routine so repetitive it sometimes felt like copy-pasting. Occasionally, jolting awake from a nap at her desk, she’d feel a strange, brief disorientation about where she even was.

The countdown on the classroom wall ticked down day by day. The classroom lights burned later into the night. The hours between darkness and dawn grew longer and longer.

The national college entrance exam was getting close.

At the end of November, Jiang Yan was preparing to leave for intensive training at the medical university. The night before his departure, the seven of them went out to eat at Uncle Chen’s small restaurant near the school.

“Yan-bro, here, eat up.” The moment the dishes arrived, Hu Hanghang had already placed a large drumstick in Jiang Yan’s bowl. “Our Guan Che-gē came back from his half-month training six or seven kilograms lighter. I’m guessing the food at the medical university can’t be all that different from where he was.”

Then Hu Hanghang proceeded to pile several more dishes into Jiang Yan’s bowl in quick succession, until it was heaped like a small mountain.

Guan Che reached over and caught Hu Hanghang’s unstoppable hand. “The canteen at the medical university is actually known for being excellent,” he said with a grin. “Yan-bro isn’t going to be suffering. And besides, he’s there to train, not sightsee — losing some weight is perfectly natural.”

“Hm, when you put it that way, I almost want to sign up for a training camp myself.” Hu Hanghang patted his small, rounded belly. “Maybe I’d finally slim down into something.”

“……”

Xu Yichuan laughed at him. “The kind of training camp that Yan-bro and Guan Che-gē went to doesn’t really seem like your scene. If you actually want to slim down, you’d probably need to sign up for one of those intense boot camp programs. Two months of that, and you’d be guaranteed to come out looking like a completely different person.”

Hu Hanghang: “……”

Forget it!

Beside them, Jiang Yan’s lips curved slightly. He used his chopsticks to shift the pile of food in his bowl — and moved the drumstick at the bottom over to Lin Tao’s bowl instead. He looked around the table. “Let’s just eat.”

“Come on, dig in!” Hu Hanghang — who only moments ago had been talking about losing weight — was the first to pick up his chopsticks. He stuffed a piece of richly glazed red-braised pork into his mouth and declared with complete sincerity, “Dieting can wait for another day.”

Everyone else: “……”

Since they had class again the next day and Jiang Yan had to leave early in the morning for the training site, there was no plan for anything else after dinner. But it was still early, so the group headed back to the internet café together.

Winter had come to Xicheng far earlier than usual this year. Well before December, the weather forecast had already been issuing warnings about incoming snow.

Temperatures had been dropping every day, creeping close to zero.

Lin Tao sat in Jiang Yan’s room and listened to the weather forecast presenter talk about the snow again. She turned to glance at Jiang Yan, who was packing his bag. “Did you pack warm enough? The temperature’s supposed to drop when the snow hits in a few days.”

Jiang Yan folded the last sweater and tucked it into an empty corner of the suitcase. He looked up at her with a smile. “I did.”

“Alright.” Lin Tao turned back to the television. The forecast had ended, and the familiar jingle of the next program was starting up.

She thought about it for a moment, and decided she didn’t quite trust his answer. She got up and walked over to him. “Actually, let me check.”

“Check what?” Jiang Yan was crouching on the floor, pulling the zipper closed on the suitcase.

“Whether you packed properly, obviously.” Lin Tao sat cross-legged on the floor and unzipped the bag, muttering as she went. “Knowing how you think about ‘warm clothes,’ your version of packing warmly probably means you threw in an extra sweater or two.”

“……”

They’d been together long enough for Lin Tao to know that he hated wearing heavy layers in winter. Even in the coldest weather, he’d add at most one sweater beneath his coat.

Last winter, he’d only put on a proper down jacket after sustained pressure from her.

She had every reason to believe their definitions of “warm clothes” might not quite align.

The suitcase was a medium-sized one — half clothing and daily essentials, the other half entirely books, practice papers, and notes.

Lin Tao unzipped the clothing side.

Sure enough. By Jiang Yan’s definition of packing warmly, he had brought exactly two extra sweaters. That was it.

“……” Lin Tao looked up at him with an expression that conveyed much and said nothing flattering. “Shall I remind you, Jiang Yan, what warm clothes actually means?”

Jiang Yan, clearly knowing he was in the wrong, stayed quiet.

“You literally just heard the weather forecast — they said it’s going to get colder, and you still didn’t pack for it. What if you catch a cold from not dressing warmly enough? That’s miserable.” Lin Tao kept her head down as she pulled out his neatly folded clothes one by one, laying them on the bed, talking the whole time without stopping. “No, actually — I should probably run out and grab some cold medicine for you before you go.”

She just kept talking.

The room was bright and warm.

Jiang Yan sat across from her, watching the way she moved, something quiet and soft in his eyes. His lips parted gently.

“Lin Tao.”

“Hmm?”

Lin Tao answered automatically. The moment she lifted her head, something warm and soft pressed over her lips — a familiar, clean fragrance sweeping over her all at once.

Jiang Yan didn’t deepen the kiss. It was nothing more than a brief, gentle graze against the corner of her mouth.

Like comfort. Like reassurance. Like tenderness.

“We’re going to be apart for half a month,” he said, settling against the side of the bed, looking down at her with low-lidded eyes. He gave a quiet laugh. “And I don’t want ‘warm clothes’ to be the only thing I remember when I think about you.”

“……”

Lin Tao muttered something under her breath.

Jiang Yan didn’t catch it clearly — but he could make a fairly educated guess that it wasn’t complimentary.

Spending time together had revealed to him that Lin Tao, when pushed far enough, was not above a colorful phrase or two. It didn’t happen often, but it happened. Jiang Yan didn’t much like hearing her swear. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why — maybe just an old-fashioned streak in him. Either way, when they were together, he generally didn’t let her get away with it.

Lin Tao mostly listened and tried to keep herself in check.

But there were moments she couldn’t hold back — like when they were gaming and she got stuck with a terrible teammate. Within a round or two, a few choice words would slip out.

In the early days, Jiang Yan would just give her a look. Lin Tao would catch the signal and pull back somewhat. But nobody’s guard is up every single second — there were times the words came out before she could stop them.

One weekend when both her parents were away on business, Lin Tao stayed at the internet café. After finishing her practice papers, she teamed up with Meng Xin and Hu Hanghang for a game. They ran into a teammate who didn’t get the role they wanted and simply disconnected from the match — except they didn’t actually leave. They sat there online doing nothing, and spent the entire game sending abuse into the public chat, while also feeding information about their positions to the opposing team.

Meng Xin and Hu Hanghang had both unmuted their mics and launched a counter-offensive. All three of them were talking over each other in voice chat, trading insults in a chaotic back-and-forth.

Lin Tao couldn’t stop herself. She joined in with a few rounds of her own — nothing truly foul, mostly gaming trash talk, but not exactly polite either.

And Jiang Yan, who happened to have something to drop off and had been standing in the doorway, ended up hearing the entire exchange from start to finish. When it was over, he helpfully applauded.

Lin Tao: “……”

Not only did they lose the match — Lin Tao also received what could be described as a thorough “talking-to” from Jiang Yan afterward.

After that, whenever Lin Tao had the urge to say something she shouldn’t in front of her boyfriend, she’d press it down into a low, barely audible mumble.

Just unclear enough that nobody could quite make out the words.

And if asked, she’d deny everything.

“Cursing me out again?” Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow, his tone amused.

“No I’m not, I never did, you’re making things up,” Lin Tao said with a perfectly straight face.

“……”

Jiang Yan clearly didn’t believe a word of it. He flicked her lightly on the forehead with a finger, and let out a low, teasing sound. “Don’t think I can’t tell what you’re up to.”

“What would I even be up to?” Lin Tao sat with her legs crossed, palm pressed against the inside of her knee, and leaned forward toward him. A smile spread across her face, her voice light and warm. “Wanting to kiss you — does that count as being up to something?”

Jiang Yan looked down at her, the corners of his eyes curving gently upward.

“Does it?” Lin Tao let the last syllable trail off, something in the tone like a tiny hook — not heavy enough to hurt, but just enough to catch.

Jiang Yan kept his eyes on her, silent. No movement. No response.

Lin Tao didn’t care either way. Whether it counted or not, she was going in.

She leaned forward — found she couldn’t quite reach — lifted the hand resting on her knee and grabbed his collar, pulling him toward her with easy confidence.

Soft lips made contact.

Just before they fully met, Jiang Yan finally broke. He raised his hand, curved it around the back of her neck, and tilted his head to meet her.

Warm, unhurried, intertwined — and in the middle of it all, Lin Tao heard his voice, low and a little muffled:

“Wanting to doesn’t count. Only actually doing it counts.”

The medical university had two campuses — an old one and a new one.

The old campus was in the heart of the city, well-connected in every direction, surrounded by all the conveniences of urban life. The new campus was in the suburbs, ringed by high-rise buildings still going up, with the nearest subway station still under construction, sparse transport links, and very few people around.

The training program was located on the more remote new campus. All students made their own way there, and arrangements were made upon arrival.

There was no direct bus or subway route from the high school to the new campus — you had to transfer three times, and the whole journey took close to three hours.

Jiang Yan had initially planned to take a taxi. But Guan Che’s parents offered to drive him there themselves.

It wasn’t exactly a big occasion — and Jiang Yan’s first instinct was to decline. Guan Che stopped him.

“When my dad dropped me off for my training, he noticed that all the other kids had come with their whole families — parents, relatives, the lot. So now he wants to make sure you don’t have to go alone.” Guan Che slung an arm around his shoulders. “He means well. Don’t turn him down. I’ll come along too — if it comes to it, I’ll drive and they can sit.”

Jiang Yan looked at him sideways and gave a quiet, humorless laugh. “If you’re driving, then no thanks. Life is short; I’d rather hold onto mine.”

“……”

They left at six in the morning. The sky was still a flat, muted gray, with just the faintest trace of moonlight still lingering.

By the time Lin Tao heard the sounds outside her door and stepped out of her room, Jiang Yan was already packed and ready, suitcase in hand, on his way downstairs.

“Jiang Yan.” Lin Tao stood at the door, her voice carrying the softness that came with being only half-awake. “Safe travels.”

Jiang Yan smiled, set down his suitcase, and walked back to her. “While I’m gone, if you need anything, go to Guan Che.”

He paused, then reconsidered. “Actually — don’t go to him. Whatever it is, wait until I’m back.”

Lin Tao let out a small laugh and stepped forward to hug him. “I’ll be fine. Just go and focus on your training.”

“Alright.” Jiang Yan reached up and ruffled her untidy hair. “I left you a few sets of comprehensive exam papers. Don’t forget to do them.”

“……” Lin Tao pressed her lips together. “Can’t I have even a little bit of time off?”

“Not many sets. You’ll be done before you know it.” Jiang Yan spoke in a coaxing tone. “By the time you finish them, I’ll be back.”

Author’s note: Guan Che: I heard someone called me sweet — come to accounting and collect your payment 🙂

Love you all!!!!