Complex, surging emotions stirred their hearts like waves.

Xia Li felt the embrace was so tight, as if he wanted to press her into his very flesh and blood.

The words had barely left her lips before they were swallowed up. Yan Sishi turned, gave her a gentle push, and her back met the glass window, trapping her completely within his arms.

This kiss held a fervor far greater than any before — she was so starved of oxygen that even her heart ached.

Yan Sishi pulled back, his palm still cradling the side of her neck, the gaze he trained into her eyes holding a dark, quiet fire.

His voice was so coolly clear, yet he could make that pet name sound so tender and lingering.

Yan Sishi stepped back and sat down in the single armchair, letting her settle between his knees. He tilted his head up and kissed her, slowly, densely, one after another.

Xia Li pressed her hand against Yan Sishi’s arm and felt the pulse at his wrist. Her breathing was scattered, alternating between deep and shallow. “…I’d like to shower first.”

Yan Sishi nodded, held her for a moment, and then finally let go.

The study had a second door that led directly to the master bedroom.

Toiletries were all fully stocked — except for pajamas. Yan Sishi found a cotton T-shirt in the wardrobe for her: the gray one he usually wore as sleepwear himself.

Xia Li took the clothes and walked toward the bathroom door. Yan Sishi told her to go ahead and wash up first while he stepped out briefly and would be back soon.

She understood, and nodded in silence.

After Yan Sishi left, Xia Li stepped into the bathroom. She had just begun getting ready when she remembered something.

She walked back to the study, fished her phone from her coat that had been tossed on the sofa, and called Jiang Hong.

As the call connected, she glanced outside — the snow was beginning to fall more heavily.

She said to Jiang Hong: “It’s snowing. Yan Sishi’s maternal grandparents are worried the roads might be slippery tonight — they said it wouldn’t be safe to drive home, so they’ve asked me to stay and rest here.”

Jiang Hong seemed to pause for a moment, then said “alright,” and asked: “You won’t be causing them any trouble, will you?”

“It’s fine.”

She had never lied about staying out overnight before. This was the first time — she had even invoked elders, people senior enough that Jiang Hong would have nothing to say about it.

Whether Jiang Hong actually believed her, or whether she quietly saw through it all — that was impossible to know.

After hanging up, she put her phone on silent.

She finished washing up, then plugged in the hair dryer to dry her hair.

The humming drone of the dryer drowned out the sounds from outside, so she didn’t hear the footsteps. It wasn’t until she pushed open the bathroom door that she realized Yan Sishi had already returned. His coat was probably hung up downstairs somewhere; he had on a gray knit sweater now, which still seemed to carry the cold chill of the wind and snow from outside.

“Is it cold out?”

“Not too bad.”

“Go shower first — you don’t want to catch a cold.”

“Mm.”

Their exchange sounded perfectly casual.

Xia Li watched the bathroom door close. She sat on the edge of the bed, but felt a little restless — something about just sitting there waiting felt too deliberate. So she got up and went to the study, picked up the old magazine she had been absent-mindedly flipping through earlier, and brought it with her.

She pulled out the chair at the cherry-wood desk by the window, sat down at a slight angle with her arm resting on the desktop, and opened the magazine.

Still absent-minded.

The sound of rushing water from inside filled her ears, and her thoughts had already begun to drift.

At some point the sound of water stopped, and a moment later the bathroom door swung open.

She deliberately did not turn to look, pretending to be absorbed in the magazine.

The footsteps drew closer, carrying with them a faint, fresh, damp fragrance — and then stopped, just behind her.

Without thinking, she curled the corner of the magazine between her fingers. Her palms grew lightly damp with perspiration.

The next instant, Yan Sishi stretched out an arm and braced it against the edge of the desk.

Her breath caught.

She turned her head, and her gaze collided directly with his eyes.

His refined, handsome features filled her entire field of vision. He said nothing — he simply leaned down and kissed her.

It was as though all the emotions put on hold before this moment, the composed and untroubled conversation, the hidden, restless longing — all of it had been leading to this. One kiss, and it ignited at the slightest touch.

Yan Sishi lifted her onto the desk to sit. The gray T-shirt was pushed upward; she braced both hands behind her to keep from falling back.

The curtains were half-drawn. The glass window had become a hazy mirror, reflecting the lamplight and the silhouettes of the two of them.

At this very desk, a high-school-aged Yan Sishi had once read, done homework, listened to music…

On rainy days, had he sometimes stared out at the rain pattering against the branches and leaves, lost in thought?

The imagined past layered over the vivid present became a doubled kind of intoxication. She felt like a gray cloud swollen with water, on the verge of spilling over at any moment.

All sorts of complex feelings — sensory, emotional — left her at a loss for how to process them.

She could only hold him close, call his name, like a plea, or a cry for help.

Yan Sishi raised his head, touched her forehead gently, and then lifted her into his arms.

When he leaned in to kiss her again, he pressed the switch by the bedside and turned off the overhead light.

But the desk lamp on the study table was still on.

A glass lampshade. The light it filtered through was soft and dim. That half-light, half-shadow — rather than absolute darkness — had its own particular atmosphere, perfectly suited to wandering the border between reality and reverie.

Xia Li felt as if everything around her was like the snow falling outside.

It came down slowly and quietly — but only those caught within it knew how violent the howling cold was.

It seemed that as the cold wind swept through her, it also carried away a part of something.

She didn’t know if it was from her heart, or somewhere else — but there was a hollow feeling that needed to be filled, something that needed to serve as her anchor.

Otherwise.

She, too, would become a wisp of wind.

Someone pulled her back from the void, abruptly, to solid ground.

In that instant, almost by instinct, a mist of tears rose in her eyes.

Yan Sishi immediately stilled, and kissed the corner of her eye. His voice carried a faint note of panic as he asked her: “Is it…?”

She shook her head. That long, long tenderness had long since been enough to dissolve all pain.

“It’s not…” Her thoughts were hazy and adrift. “Do you understand?”

“Mm.” Yan Sishi pressed a kiss to her temple, which was lightly damp with perspiration. “I understand.”

That feeling of having finally obtained what one longed for.

She seemed to exhale softly: “…I like you so much.”

Yan Sishi lowered his head, close to her ear, and said: “…I had a dream.”

“What?”

In that low, slightly hoarse voice, he recounted for her: in that absurd dream, how the shattered lamplight had scattered and fallen into her eyes.

Xia Li was left speechless. She had finally witnessed him at his most unrestrained. He had shed all his gentleness and laid bare a side of himself that was utterly devastating.

Her thoughts, already in complete disarray, turned entirely into a pot of boiling water.

She thought of reuniting with Yan Sishi at the convenience store the year before.

She had thought him a snow-covered mountain in the depths of a long winter — cold, like a dream too distant to reach.

But if she hadn’t mustered the courage to draw closer, how would she ever have known that he was in truth a dormant volcano.

When it erupted, the lava ran scorching hot, holding the most ardent and devoted love he possessed.

She was willing to be covered head to toe in ten thousand layers of ash.

He was not a dream.

He was existence itself.

(*)

The perspiration gradually evaporated, leaving the skin exposed to the warm air with a taut, slightly drawn feeling.

Xia Li lay nestled in Yan Sishi’s arms, and he would occasionally press a light kiss to her hair.

The air carried a clean, faintly briny scent.

Their two heartbeats slowly settled into a similar rhythm. They were like two fish resting in the shallows.

No deeper thoughts — only a drowsy, mutual contentment.

“I have a question.” When Xia Li spoke, she noticed that her own voice had gone a little hoarse.

“Mm?”

“Suppose that thing had never happened — back in our final year of high school, when you received my letter, how would you have responded?”

For a moment she heard no reply. Xia Li looked up.

He was thinking. His clear, composed features held an earnestness that was unmistakably sincere.

“I probably wouldn’t have agreed — but I wouldn’t have refused, either. I would have told you that some things at home meant I couldn’t afford to be distracted for the time being, and that if you were willing, I hoped you would wait a little while for me, and that once I had sorted through my thoughts, I would give you a definite answer.”

That was exactly like him.

Xia Li smiled. “But you were already about to go abroad back then. Thinking about it now, the odds probably weren’t great… This letter reaching you now — perhaps this really is the best possible timing.”

Yan Sishi could not honestly say otherwise.

Back then, they were both still so young. They had no control over their own fates, and could make no promises to one another.

Xia Li seemed to know what he was thinking. “You’re not allowed to feel guilty about it. I think us getting to know each other again, when we’ve both grown our wings, is the best possible outcome.”

She had not stood still waiting. She had not wallowed in self-pity.

She had chased the landscapes she had seen reflected in his eyes, and through that, had come to know a far wider world.

Yan Sishi lowered his head and kissed her.

By now, Xia Li already knew: whenever something moved him deeply, this was how he expressed it — not with words.

The embers had not yet cooled. A single kiss was enough to rekindle the flame.

Yan Sishi kissed her still-flushed earlobe and asked in a low voice: one more time.

The faint, ticklish warmth of his breath brushing past her ear made Xia Li instinctively draw her neck in. “…Isn’t it enough?”

“It’s not enough.”

His low, deep voice was like an irresistible temptation. Xia Li said quietly: then be gentle.

Yan Sishi said all right.

And yet, it was Xia Li herself who, not long after, pleaded and went back on her own request.

This time, Yan Sishi led with complete ease and mastery. Those eyes of his — sunken yet clear — watched her come completely undone, and then he kissed away her involuntary tears, asking with great innocence: why so quickly.

Once her breathing had settled, Xia Li casually pulled on Yan Sishi’s T-shirt, sat up, and reached for the water bottle on the nightstand to drink.

She glanced out the window, then walked over and drew the curtains further open.

Through the glass, she could see that the branches and leaves outside were already draped in a thin layer of snow.

Yan Sishi watched as she pressed her forehead against the windowpane, her breath leaving a small, hazy patch of fog on the glass.

He found the sight of her rather endearing.

But he couldn’t help reminding her: “Don’t catch a cold.”

Xia Li said she wouldn’t.

The central heating inside was running, but wearing just a short-sleeved top, she still felt a little cold.

Before going back to bed, Xia Li decided to shower first.

After washing up, they switched — Yan Sishi’s turn.

It was only now that Xia Li had a moment to pick up her phone, which had been on silent, and check it. There were a few WeChat messages, but none of them were of any importance.

Before long, Yan Sishi came out of the bathroom.

When he lay down beside her, his skin still carried a faint trace of dampness.

Xia Li turned over and nestled into his arms, breathing in the pleasant scent of him, and said out of nowhere: “You’re a Pisces.”

“Mm.”

“I’m a Gemini. Lin Qingxiao said once — two people, four personalities in a relationship. Sounds awfully crowded.”

Yan Sishi gave a soft laugh.

“When will the snow stop.” She was playing with his fingers — the ones that wore his ring — letting her mind wander freely.

“I don’t know.” Yan Sishi said softly. “But until the snow stops, I won’t let you leave.”

The time had long since passed midnight.

The world seemed to have forgotten them. In this corner that no one else knew of, they rushed headlong once more into a delirious dream.

The snow fell on and off through the entire night.