Chen Yi had just finished his phone call when he noticed the room was eerily quiet. He turned his head to look toward the sofa. Ruan Mian sat there with her back to the window, head lowered, completely motionless. Beside her lay several neatly folded clothes and a black backpack with its zipper left open.

He didn’t know what was wrong. Putting away his phone, he walked over, but stopped just before getting close. His gaze fell on the piece of paper Ruan Mian held in her hands.

To be precise, it was his will.

In their line of work, before each mission they would write a will in advance, in case something unexpected happened during the mission and they didn’t have time to handle their affairs afterward.

Chen Yi had originally kept the will and the ring under his pillow in the dormitory. Some time ago, he had asked Shen Yu to go back and pack some things for him, and Shen Yu had casually included these items as well.

Chen Yi hadn’t expected her to see these things, just as he hadn’t wanted her to know about his injury at all. Some things were inevitable, but knowing earlier versus knowing later made a difference.

Until that moment came, Chen Yi didn’t want Ruan Mian to learn about or encounter these things too early. For her, it might be something very cruel.

Death was an ordinary matter—something everyone would experience—but when it befell someone close, perhaps it wasn’t an easy hurdle to overcome.

Chen Yi walked over silently and crouched down in front of Ruan Mian, trying to pull the paper from her hands. “Alright, stop looking.”

Ruan Mian didn’t let go. Her fingers gripped it tightly. When she looked at him, her eyes were very red, as if it took great courage to speak. “If you hadn’t come back this time—”

“There are no ‘ifs.'” Chen Yi interrupted her, using a bit more force to pull the paper away. He refolded it along its original creases. “I came back. That hypothesis doesn’t hold.”

Ruan Mian still clutched the two rings in her palm, and a delayed sense of panic and fear suddenly surged in her heart.

When she was still in school, she had participated in several medical aid projects in Africa with her mentor during summer breaks. She’d heard people on the team talk about how those doctors without borders would leave a will in advance when going to dangerous places, just like those Chinese soldiers who came to Africa on missions—they too would leave a few words before coming here.

Ruan Mian thought back to not long ago, after learning Chen Yi was injured, and the things she had said to him. She had thought she could calmly accept all his unexpected situations, but when she truly saw this will, Ruan Mian realized that all those “I can,” “I’m willing,” “I accept” were nothing but bravado.

Just like that time when they reunited in Lorraine—all her composure and indifference in the face of Chen Yi had completely collapsed when he faced life and death.

She couldn’t accept even the slightest mishap befalling him.

“Chen Yi…” Ruan Mian lost control and began to cry. Her throat felt blocked, and for a while she couldn’t speak.

Her sobbing cries were like countless densely packed needles, all piercing Chen Yi’s heart at the same time, causing an indescribable stinging pain.

Lingering, sharp, unable to be released for a long time.

Chen Yi stood up slightly and pulled her into his arms. Scalding tears spread across the thin fabric, making that small patch of skin seem to absorb the temperature.

His throat felt dry. His Adam’s apple moved up and down several times, his lips moved, but he couldn’t say a single word.

After a long while, the crying gradually stopped, followed by a prolonged silence.

Ruan Mian sat there, held in his embrace, her head resting lightly against his waist and abdomen, her cheek against that patch of fabric, warm and damp.

Chen Yi raised his hand and squeezed the back of her neck, as if to comfort her. “It’s alright now.”

She didn’t make a sound, just raised her hands to hold him. After a while, she finally spoke, her voice still carrying traces of tears. “I never used to seriously make any wishes on my birthdays, because I thought I already had what I wanted, and those things I couldn’t get wouldn’t come true just by wishing.”

“I’m not a very greedy person,” she said. “I only made one wish this year.”

Chen Yi looked down at her. “What was it?”

“I hope—” Ruan Mian raised her head, her eyes moist and bright, speaking with utmost seriousness word by word, “Chen Yi will have a peaceful life and live to be a hundred years old.”

The hospital room was quiet for only a moment. Chen Yi raised his hand to wipe away the tears on her face, then took the two rings from her clenched right hand and knelt down on one knee.

Ruan Mian’s expression froze, as if somewhat taken aback.

“This isn’t a proposal.” Chen Yi’s eyes held gentle amusement. “This was originally prepared as a birthday gift for you, but now I think, let it become a witness to our promise.”

He rubbed the slightly smaller ring between his fingertips. “I know it’s unrealistic for me to say now that nothing will happen when I go on missions in the future, but I promise you—”

Chen Yi held her right hand and slowly pushed the ring from the tip of her ring finger inward, until it stopped perfectly at the base. He lowered his head to kiss the ring, then raised his head again, looking at her with focused eyes, his tone slow and solemn. “In the days when I have you, I will definitely come back to see you safe and sound.”

You are what my heart yearns for, and even more, where my life belongs. You are my heroic dream that endures day after day and never fades. From now on, as long as you are here, I will definitely come back.

Ruan Mian looked at him. Her eyelashes trembled, and her nose began to sting. A teardrop fell precisely on the spot he had just kissed, sliding down along her finger.

She cried uncontrollably. Through her tear-blurred vision, she said, “Alright.”

…

…

In 2009, Ruan Mian made a wish in a temple filled with incense smoke, asking Buddha that she might see him year after year.

In 2013, amid throngs of people, Ruan Mian made a wish blessing him with smooth sailing and everything going well year after year.

Ruan Mian was indeed not a very greedy person.

In the ten-plus years she had known Chen Yi, she had only ever had two wishes related to him, and now this was the third.

She hoped Chen Yi would have a peaceful life and live to be a hundred years old.

More than any other time, she hoped this was a wish that could be fulfilled forever.

Winter in City B was long and cold. Northern cities had much snow. After New Year’s Day, heavy snow fell daily, covering the entire city in white. The below-zero temperatures made people cold from the inside out.

Chen Yi had been seriously injured before, and with the year-end approaching, Song Huai inevitably felt partial and specially gave him two months of medical leave.

Grandmother Liu Wenqing’s intention was for him to stay at the compound, where she and the housekeeper could conveniently take care of him, but Chen Yi insisted on staying at Ruan Mian’s place.

“My wound still needs regular dressing changes. Ruan Mian is a doctor. With her at home, I don’t need to make special trips to the hospital for dressing changes. Besides, she knows what foods to avoid, so she can pay more attention to the diet.” Chen Yi said, “No, we’re not sleeping in the same room. I’m sleeping in the guest bedroom.”

Liu Wenqing instructed over the phone, “Then I’ll have Uncle Liu send you some vegetables, fruits, and meat. In such cold weather, don’t go running around outside.”

“Alright, thank you, Grandma.”

“You’re living at Ruan Mian’s place now. She has to work during the day, and when she comes back at night she still has to take care of you. When you have nothing to do, help out with things you can manage. Don’t just lie there acting like a lord.”

“I know.” As he said this, Chen Yi held his phone in one hand and a soup ladle in the other, stirring the soup simmering in the pot.

Meanwhile, Ruan Mian was actually lying on the living room sofa like a lord, watching TV.

After hanging up, Chen Yi turned off the stove and came out of the kitchen. He walked to the sofa and stood there with his arms crossed, looking down at Ruan Mian from above.

She felt her scalp tingle under his gaze and asked softly, “What’s wrong?”

Chen Yi frowned and slowly sat down beside her, his voice sounding somewhat weak. “My wound seems to hurt a bit.”

“Ah?” Ruan Mian’s expression became tense. She reached up to lift his clothes, but after checking found no major problem. She couldn’t help saying, “I already told you not to stand for too long.”

“But wasn’t I doing it to serve someone?” Chen Yi pinched her cheek and pulled her onto his lap. “So heartless.”

Ruan Mian, afraid of pressing on his wound, scooted back a bit. “But I don’t know how to cook.”

In the first few days after Chen Yi moved in, Ruan Mian had tried looking up tutorials online to make some nourishing soup for him. After experiencing repeated failures, Chen Yi, to avoid eating any more bizarre concoctions, took the initiative to take charge of his three meals a day and her dinner.

Chen Yi laughed and played with the hand wearing her ring.

Ruan Mian inexplicably heard a mocking tone in his laugh. She pinched his ears with both hands, finding an excuse for herself. “Also, you were the one who said only one person in the house needs to know how to cook.”

“Yes.” He smiled and sighed, joking, “So now haven’t I just lifted a rock to drop it on my own foot?”

“…” Ruan Mian tugged his ear with a bit more force, raising her voice in annoyance. “Then don’t live here anymore.”

Chen Yi hissed lightly, grasped her wrist, and pulled her into his arms. He tilted his head to bite her ear, his voice ambiguous and unclear. “I already paid the rent. How can I not live here?”

The ear wasn’t Ruan Mian’s sensitive spot, but being held and licked like this still created an indescribable tingling sensation. She couldn’t help moving. “…Nonsense. When did you pay rent?”

He laughed, his chest vibrating along with it. His fingertip traced from her spine upward bit by bit, speaking meaningfully. “Didn’t I just pay it the day before yesterday?”

The day before yesterday…

Amidst being kissed until dazed and confused, Ruan Mian recalled certain things that happened in the bathroom the day before yesterday. Her ears suddenly heated up. Somewhat exasperated, she pushed him away. “Chen Yi!”

“Mm?” His hand still lingered on her back, stroking intermittently.

“Have you no shame!” Ruan Mian used both hands and feet to get out of his embrace, stepping into her slippers as she returned to her room and slammed the door shut.

Chen Yi rubbed his ears, thought for a moment, then got up and walked into the room as well.

Before long, ambiguous sounds came from the room—faint, cat-like mewling that was particularly arousing.

After quite a long time, the room door was pulled open. Ruan Mian, face flushed, hurried out and plunged into the bathroom outside.

The hand soap placed beside the sink had just been bought not long ago but was already half used.

…

After dinner that evening, Chen Yi discussed with Ruan Mian about when to return to Pingcheng, and also brought up meeting the parents.

Ruan Mian bit into her jelly. “This year I’m taking all my annual leave together, plus some time off I’m owed from before, so it’s about ten days or so. But I don’t start my leave until New Year’s Eve.”

“Then let’s wait until after New Year’s Eve.” Chen Yi turned his head to look at her. “I’ll also go back and discuss with my parents to see which day works.”

“Otherwise I could come over on New Year’s Eve itself.”

Chen Yi flatly refused. “No.”

“Why not?”

“This is the first year.” Chen Yi leaned over to bite her moist, crimson lips. “I should be the one coming to pay New Year’s respects to your parents first.”

She laughed. “Alright.”

Chen Yi kissed her for a while, then leaned back to sit down, pinching her wrist. “This year, are you staying with Uncle Ruan, or going to Pingjiang West Lane for New Year?”

“At my dad’s place.” Ruan Mian was already messaging Ruan Mingke about this on her phone. After a few seconds, she looked up at him. “My dad is asking if there’s anything special you’d like to eat.”

Chen Yi wasn’t picky. “I’m fine with anything.”

Ruan Mian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, also muttering aloud, “So when are you going back? Together with me?”

“I’ll go a day earlier than you.” Chen Yi had other arrangements on New Year’s Eve itself and wouldn’t make it back in time that day. “Have you booked your plane ticket?”

“Not yet.”

“Should I book them together?”

“Alright.”

…

In the remaining days, Ruan Mian became even busier, leaving early and returning late. Sometimes she didn’t return home at all. Soon it was time for Chen Yi to return to Pingcheng.

He had bought a 3 PM flight. At noon he came to the hospital to have lunch with Ruan Mian, then went straight from the hospital to the airport.

Ruan Mian didn’t see his message about landing until she finished work in the early morning hours.

She drove out from the hospital, stopped by the roadside to reply to his message, then tossed her phone aside. When she got home, Chen Yi still hadn’t replied.

Ruan Mian figured at this hour he was already asleep, so she sent a good night message and turned off her phone.

The next morning, Chen Yi woke to see Ruan Mian’s message sent at 3 AM. Thinking of her 10 AM flight and worried she’d oversleep, he called her.

The call took a long time to connect. “Chen Yi, I’m so sleepy. How about I buy an afternoon ticket instead? The New Year’s Eve dinner isn’t until evening anyway.”

“…” Chen Yi laughed. “Why don’t you just come back after celebrating the New Year?”

She whined and groaned, acting like a child when being coaxed out of bed. Chen Yi found it funny yet felt his heart soften. He compromised. “Then I’ll help you change it to an afternoon flight.”

“Forget it.” Ruan Mian said, “I already climbed out of bed.”

“I’ll pick you up at the airport when you arrive.”

“No need. Did it snow in Pingcheng?” Ruan Mian pulled open the curtains. “City B seems to have cleared up.”

Chen Yi also turned his head to look out the window. “It hasn’t snowed this year.”

“Pingcheng hasn’t had snow for many years.”

Southern cities didn’t get much snow, especially in recent years with global warming—even less snow, and even winter wasn’t as cold as it had been in the early 2000s.

Chen Yi stayed on the call with Ruan Mian until she left the house before hanging up. After washing up, he took his phone downstairs for breakfast.

At the dining table, Song Jing asked about his plans for the day. “Later, go to Mianmian’s mother’s place first. We’re not celebrating New Year there this year, but you should still visit.”

Chen Yi was already prepared for this. “I know.”

“I’ve prepared the gifts for you.” Song Jing noticed the ring on his ring finger and asked, “Did you propose?”

Chen Yi shook his head. “Not yet.”

Song Jing didn’t ask anything more, only instructed, “You need to have a sense of propriety about everything.”

“Mm.”

Song Jing said, “Your father and I have to go to the airport later to pick up your grandparents. I’ve left the things for you on the coffee table in the living room. If you’re not sure about anything, ask the housekeeper.”

Chen Yi nodded. “Alright.”

After eating, Chen Yi sat at home for a while. When the time was about right, he took the gifts and went to Fang Ruqing’s place. He didn’t stay long—just had a cup of tea before leaving.

Fang Ruqing walked him to the door and stuffed a red envelope into his pocket. “Take it. It’s not much, just for good luck during the New Year.”

“Thank you, Auntie.” Chen Yi didn’t refuse anymore. “I’ll be going now. Don’t see me out—it’s cold outside.”

“Alright, hurry back.”

After leaving the Zhao family home, Chen Yi took another alley to visit Li Zhi. Li Zhi had gone to City B before and stayed there the whole time. After Chen Yi was hospitalized, he had even come to visit once.

Now, he wore a thin black V-neck sweater, standing behind the counter sorting through accounts as he used to. Chen Yi walked in. “When did you get back?”

“The day before yesterday.” Li Zhi put down his calculator. His features hadn’t changed much compared to many years ago—handsome and bright in his youth, now mature and refined.

Chen Yi stood opposite him, reaching to grab a lollipop from the side. His gaze inadvertently swept across the V-neck opening, pausing for a moment. He looked up at him, speaking in a leisurely manner. “So you have a girlfriend now?”

“Hm?” Li Zhi shook his head. “No.”

“Then this—” Chen Yi pointed to the area below his own collarbone, smiling meaningfully. “What kind of mosquito bites like that?”

“…” Li Zhi looked down, then raised his head and quirked an eyebrow at him, smiling lightly. “Who says it has to be a girlfriend?”

Chen Yi’s expression froze, as if in disbelief, but he quickly recovered, maintaining his usual casual air. “Fair enough. That really is a mosquito I didn’t expect.”

Li Zhi laughed. “Get lost.”

Chen Yi made a sound of acknowledgment, his tone carrying its usual nonchalance. “I’m leaving then. Let’s have a meal together sometime. You can bring family.”

“Alright.”

Chen Yi walked out of Pingjiang West Lane, stood at the intersection in the cold wind for a while, then stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked toward home.

Everyone in this world had their own path to walk. Whether the journey was rocky or smooth sailing, the road was one’s own—no one else could decide how to walk it.

Since Li Zhi had chosen this path, it was his life and had nothing to do with others.

…

After returning home from Pingjiang West Lane, Chen Yi drove to Ruan Mingke’s place only after receiving Ruan Mian’s message that she had boarded.

The Ruan family was small. For New Year, there were only Ruan Mingke and Zhou Xiujun, plus a live-in housekeeper. Lunch was cooked by Ruan Mingke himself.

After eating, Chen Yi checked the time—it had just passed noon. The flight from City B to Pingcheng took several hours. Ruan Mian’s flight would arrive at Pingcheng airport at 1 PM at the earliest.

The Ruan home didn’t have extra rooms. Ruan Mingke came out of the study. “Chen Yi, go sleep in Mianmian’s room for a while. Grandma and the others won’t start making dumplings until 3 o’clock.”

Chen Yi put down his teacup. “Alright.”

“It’s that room inside. The sheets and blankets were just changed.” After Ruan Mingke finished speaking, he went back into the study. He’d had a lot going on with his projects recently and had meetings even during New Year.

This was Chen Yi’s first time entering Ruan Mian’s room. Last time he came for dinner, afraid of leaving a bad impression, he and Ruan Mian had talked while sitting in the living room.

The room wasn’t particularly large, but there were quite a few things—desk, bookshelf, clothes rack, wardrobe. A queen-size bed took up half the space.

Books and Lego models were piled in every corner. Two cardboard boxes sat on the desk.

Chen Yi saw several photos of Ruan Mian from her student days on the bookshelf. He looked through them one by one, then walked to the desk.

The tape on both boxes had been cut open. The flaps weren’t closed tightly—one even had torn edges. The bottom bore marks from being squeezed, as if it had fallen from a height.

Chen Yi lifted the lid of the more damaged box. Inside were all Ruan Mian’s old test papers and notebooks from No. 8 High School.

And an old-style mobile phone.

He had no intention of prying into Ruan Mian’s past, but just as he was about to close it, he saw an exposed corner of scratch paper with his name written on it.

That piece of paper was like a key to open a treasure chest, full of temptation.

Chen Yi hesitated for a moment, but ultimately curiosity overcame reason. He reached out and pulled out that piece of scratch paper. The exposed corner turned out to be just the tip of the iceberg.

That yellowed scratch paper was covered entirely with his name.

Some were scrawled, others written carefully stroke by stroke, but most had been crossed out with pen after being written.

The traces where ink had faded over the years were crystal clear, yet the affection hidden behind this paper had never faded.

Chen Yi felt as if he had returned to that summer night when he first learned Ruan Mian had once liked him. A dense sourness spread through his heart.

He put down the scratch paper and picked up a black notebook that lay on top of everything.

Many years later, when Chen Yi looked back on this afternoon that seemed so ordinary at first, he still felt he must have used up too much good fortune in his teenage years, so that only after all these years had he found the key to unlock this treasure.