This winter break was extraordinary for Shan Shan. On the morning of the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month, she woke up needing to use the bathroom. Bleary-eyed and disheveled, she prepared to leave her room. Upon opening the door, she found her crush sitting in the living room. Such an experience would startle anyone.
Shan Shan froze in her wheelchair for at least three seconds. After regaining her composure, she calmly nodded to everyone in the living room, then turned and wheeled herself into the bathroom. As her mother called out, “Put on a jacket!”, the bathroom door slammed shut. No one saw how the seemingly composed girl immediately hunched over the sink, desperately craning her neck to examine her face in the mirror.
Her hair, casually tied in a small bun, now looked pleasantly tousled and relaxed. Good. No sleep in her eyes. Excellent. No drool marks at the corners of her mouth. Perfect. But there, on the tip of her nose—a pimple. A huge one.
Shan Shan stared at her bright red nose tip in despair. She believed that after those ten seconds of anxiety, the pimple would only grow larger, transforming into a monstrous volcano by New Year’s Eve. She felt like fainting.
Afraid to stay in the bathroom too long lest others think she was doing more than answering nature’s call—how could a fairy possibly do such things?—she quickly left the sink. She swiftly took care of her needs, put on her nightgown, washed her hands, and even applied hand cream.
When she emerged from the bathroom, the sleepy-eyed girl was now fully awake. Her bun-topped head, shoulders round and pale from lack of sun, peeked out from her nightgown. Her eyes, unlike Shan Chong’s, were round like a cat’s and sparkled brightly. She raised her hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
Her gaze swept casually over her crush on the sofa. Her face remained calm as if nothing had happened.
“Morning,” she said. “What brings you here?”
Dai Duo raised an eyebrow.
Shan Chong answered, explaining that Dai Duo’s family was in Vancouver and couldn’t return for the New Year. So this year, he would be spending it with them.
Shan Shan: “Oh.”
Shan Chong: “Go put on a jacket.”
Shan Shan looked at her arms, belatedly realizing. She said “Oh” again, turned back to her room to put on a jacket, comb her hair, and change into more presentable clothes. She emerged slowly and glanced out the window. It was snowing heavily.
She hadn’t noticed when it started.
Shan Shan’s parents had gone out to visit. Her brother and her crush sat on the sofa. She rolled her eyes around in their sockets, her little brain starting to work: “Brother, I want to eat ice cream.”
Usually, Shan Shan’s terms of address for her brother were limited to “Hey,” “You,” and “Shan Chong.” When fully respectful (like when receiving red envelopes), she’d call him “Bro.” When she used “Brother,” it usually meant trouble.
Shan Chong and Dai Duo were playing a mobile game. The brother looked up at the heavy snow outside, paused, but didn’t refuse.
Instead, Dai Duo, without looking up, said: “What ice cream? It’s snowing so heavily outside.”
Shan Shan was about to say “Snow and ice cream go perfectly together” when she saw him tilt his head and add to the person beside him: “Your sister’s quite the troublemaker.”
To be honest, Shan Shan was stunned.
She stood there, frozen, thinking a hundred times: “Is his Chinese just not that good?” “How can he speak so rudely?” “If he was born this impolite, how did he survive to this age?” “What happened to foreigners pulling out guns at the slightest provocation? By that logic, he should have been reincarnated three or four times by now and just learned to walk and say ‘mama’ in his new life.”
Shan Shan fell silent.
Shan Chong glanced at her and said, “We’ll go in a bit.”
Dai Duo raised an eyebrow and said, “You’re going?”
“Are you going then?”
“I’m not going.”
“Then why are you talking? It’s just at the gate, not far.” Shan Chong didn’t look up. “It’s snowing, not raining knives. Haven’t you been in the snow before?”
“Then why did you act like I was asking you to die when I asked you to get my thermos from the rest area the day before yesterday?”
“…” Shan Chong hadn’t expected this to be his point. “This is my sister.”
“Strictly speaking,” Dai Duo said, “I’m the same age as her.”
Shan Chong fell silent, obviously too lazy to argue.
Instead, it was Shan Shan, sitting in her wheelchair, listening to this surreal scene of her crush whining to her brother, who couldn’t take it anymore. Her eyelids twitched, and she couldn’t help but interject: “So what if you’re the same age? This is my brother.”
Dai Duo looked over.
Shan Shan raised her chin: “Blood is thicker than water.”
Dai Duo’s face remained expressionless.
Shan Shan continued without changing her expression: “If you’re capable, draw a vial of his blood and inject it into your arteries.”
Dai Duo fell silent.
Shan Chong put down his phone: “You two don’t sound like mentally stable people having this conversation. Is there something wrong with your school’s feng shui? Has it driven everyone mad?”
Dai Duo: “Did I say a word?”
Shan Shan: “No, but you looked like you were seriously considering my blood-drawing suggestion.”
Dai Duo: “I wasn’t.”
Shan Chong looked like he didn’t want to stay a second longer. He shoved his phone into Shan Shan’s hands and stood up: “I’ve never seen you two so fond of me before. Usually, the first thing you do when you see me is frown… Did you take the wrong medicine today? Now you’re fighting over me?”
Shan Shan took her brother’s phone, looked at the game score, and gasped, muttering, “You two are so bad at this,” as she took over.
Dai Duo seriously considered Shan Chong’s words, probably feeling it was inappropriate too. So he lowered his head and continued playing, saying, “I want the one with a chocolate coating.”
Shan Shan: “Your mouth says no, but your body is very honest.”
Dai Duo glanced at her from the edge of his phone: “What’s going on? Weren’t you quite respectful to me at school?”
The girl’s cheeks puffed up: “That was before you said I was causing trouble.”
Dai Duo looked confused: “It’s snowing so heavily outside, and you’re sending someone out. Isn’t that causing trouble?”
Shan Shan: “If I’m causing trouble, you shouldn’t eat it—don’t attack, the boss isn’t ready yet… Ah! We died!”
Dai Duo threw his phone: “The healing was inadequate.”
Shan Shan put down the phone: “Even Florence Nightingale reborn couldn’t heal a fragile mage trying to tank the final boss. Stop being unreasonable.”
Dai Duo stared at her for a while, then suddenly said: “With such a bad temper, no wonder you get pimples.”
Shan Shan: “?”
As the fairy was gasping in shock, his gaze remained calm as he looked away.
Dai Duo: “Let’s start again.”
Shan Chong surveyed the two, making sure they wouldn’t start fighting, then turned and left.
When there’s something to do, even if there’s nothing to talk about, it doesn’t feel particularly awkward. This is probably why so many couples who argue all the time still team up to play games together.
Of course.
Fortune tellers say that a true connection is when you’re with someone, and even if you’ve just met, it feels like you’ve known each other for several lifetimes—
Before meeting, you’re restless with longing, constantly refreshing their social media feeds, profile pictures, and every platform, eagerly anticipating meeting them, imagining the encounter:
But when you meet, your face doesn’t flush, your heart doesn’t race.
So.
Maybe it’s a true connection after all.
After sending her brother to buy ice cream, Shan Shan played two games with Dai Duo. The atmosphere was harmonious. He cursed and muttered while playing, but didn’t complain about inadequate healing again.
About fifteen minutes later, Shan Chong returned. His black down jacket was covered in snow, and he was carrying a bag of ice cream. Shan Shan cheered and threw down her phone to get it.
Dai Duo mumbled “After this game” without looking up.
Shan Shan wheeled over, reaching for the ice cream. Using the rustling sound as cover, she asked, “Brother.”
Shan Chong: “I bought you the ice cream. Call me brother again and I’ll sew your mouth shut.”
Shan Shan: “…”
Shan Shan: “No, I just wanted to ask if you’re straight?”
Shan Chong: “?”
When Shan Chong’s puzzled and slightly cold gaze swept over, Shan Shan had already relaxed halfway—he clearly hadn’t understood what she meant. She took out the ice cream, tearing open the plastic bag: “I thought you brought the senior back today to show off to me.”
“Show off what?” Shan Chong asked, “Which senior?”
Shan Shan, ice cream in her mouth, nodded towards the room—following her gesture, Shan Chong saw the young man crouching on the sofa playing games. He paused, then slowly looked back at his sister.
“I can’t accept that my crush is my brother’s boyfriend.”
“If you make this kind of joke with me again,” Shan Chong said expressionlessly, “he might as well be my boyfriend.”
“…I’ll have to date someday.”
“You will,” Shan Chong tossed the bag of ice cream onto Shan Shan’s lap, “but not now, and not him.”
His voice was as cold as the falling snow outside.
Shan Shan sat in her wheelchair, allowing her brother to shake the snow from his coat onto her face, probably intentionally—like a stray dog shaking off snow. Amidst her earth-shattering yet deliberately gentle sneeze, he hung up his coat.
He walked over to Dai Duo.
Hands in pockets, he stood beside him, watching him play the game for a while. Then he raised his foot and planted it on Dai Duo’s shoulder.
Dai Duo’s shoulder shook. He looked up at the person beside him, his face sour. He pushed the foot away with his hand. “What are you doing? Did a dog bite you downstairs?”
Shan Chong, keeping his hands in his pockets, let his foot slide down to Dai Duo’s thigh. He looked back at Shan Shan—
As if to say, See? This is the kind of rude person you like. Are you blind?
Still, like him?
Nod and I’ll crush him under my foot.
Shan Shan was silent for three seconds, then said, “I was joking.”
Amidst Dai Duo’s confused gaze, Shan Chong removed his foot.
“Telling tales to your brother? Saying bad things about me?” Dai Duo sensed the subtle change in the air and asked, “Did I say anything when you failed to heal me with your brother’s account in the dungeon just now?”
Unfortunately, he missed the point entirely.
Shan Shan: “Childish.”
Dai Duo: “Fine. And now you’re insulting me to my face. You’re impressive.”
Shan Shan: “…”
For the rest of the winter break, Dai Duo became like a mushroom in a flowerpot in Shan Shan’s home.
He appeared unexpectedly, took root firmly, and thrived.
From waking up one day to see her crush, it became waking up every day to see her crush.
It seemed nothing extraordinary or earth-shattering happened. They just suddenly became familiar, and she discovered that he wasn’t the gentle winter god she had imagined…
The problem was, she already liked him.
Even if he was an uncouth rascal, as long as he didn’t do something like suddenly sticking out a leg to trip an old lady crossing the street, his rude speech could almost become an endearing trait.
Soon, it was almost time to return to school.
Dai Duo didn’t come to their house for the last two days before school started. He was reportedly busy catching up on winter break homework at home. Shan Shan took the opportunity to refocus, attending a few online classes to get back into study mode, and then suddenly it was time for school to start.
When the winter break ended, it was still very cold in the Northeast.
Shan Shan still relied on taxis to get to and from school.
On the day of the opening ceremony, it was snowing when she arrived at school. Although the “Athletes’ March” was already playing over the campus, there were hardly any people on the playground—
Everyone was huddled in their classrooms, listening to the broadcast and completing all the ceremonies there.
The student council would be coming to check appearances soon. They were quite strict on the first day of the new semester.
When Shan Shan entered the classroom, she had a bag on her lap. The bag looked ordinary from the outside, but no one knew it contained the new school heartthrob’s uniform—
After all, he didn’t have a washing machine in his rented place, nor did he buy one or know how to use one…
Throughout the winter break, his clothes were washed at the Shan family’s house, including the school uniform he had sent over two days before school started.
Then he seemed to have forgotten about it and never showed up again.
Left with no choice, but to avoid their class losing conduct points, on this first day of school, Shan Shan had to act as his clothes-delivery maid.
After putting down her backpack, she mumbled “going to the bathroom” to her deskmate, ignoring the curious glances from others, and set off with the paper bag steadily on her lap.
Turn right out the door, and go upstairs.
But Dai Duo wasn’t there.
His classmates were somewhat used to junior girls bringing what looked like gifts on the first day of school. The boy who had spoken to Shan Shan before even kindly gave her directions: “He just came and went to the open space in front without even putting his things down.”
There was an open area at the corner of the third floor, unfinished, with discarded construction materials piled up. It might have been designed as a classroom originally…
But for some reason, it wasn’t used in the end.
Now it had become a gathering place for the school’s troublemakers to skip class.
Shan Shan frowned, thinking that if he wanted to skip class on the first day of school, why did he bother with winter break homework a few days ago? As she pondered this, she wheeled herself towards that area—
Before she reached the spot, she heard voices.
“Kid, don’t be too arrogant. Coming from abroad isn’t anything special.”
The cold voice carried the characteristic hoarseness and roughness of puberty.
From a distance, Shan Shan could see three or four people wearing senior high school uniforms surrounding someone about their height but not as bulky. That person was wearing a white windbreaker, not a school uniform.
As the figures moved, she could see his cold expression and delicate features.
—Who else could it be but Dai Duo?
At this moment, he was surrounded by several older students. His backpack and some things in white plastic bags were placed nearby. His expression hadn’t changed.
Hearing the threat, his eyelashes trembled slightly. He lazily lifted his eyelids and swept a glance over the people blocking his way.
He took a step back and bent down to pick up a brick at his feet.
“Stop wasting time, are you all coming or—”
As he bent down, through the gaps between their legs, he saw a metallic reflection in the distance.
His voice cut off abruptly. He blinked, bent down to look again, and through the gaps between the senior students’ legs, he met a pair of round black eyes—
Sitting in a wheelchair, the girl had her hair tied in an obedient little braid, soft hair falling over her shoulders. She wore the first-year high school uniform, which seemed to be stuffed with quite a few layers underneath, making her look plump.
“Dai Duo?” Her voice was light and airy. “What are you doing?”
The sound carried from afar.
The fingers that had already picked up the brick twitched.
His fingertips slid over the brick, hesitating for three seconds.
He dropped the brick.
Standing up straight, he calmly glanced at the senior students—his eyes were cold and sharp, full of arrogance, making them momentarily stunned.
It was as if the air had frozen for an instant.
From the initial silence to the peak of arrogant domineering, and then before anyone could react, the pressure he exuded dissipated.
In this brief interval, the person who had dropped the brick turned around, bent down to pick up the white plastic bags he had placed next to his backpack earlier, walked around those people, and approached the girl who had poked half her head out from behind the wall.
The plastic bags swayed gently in front of her.
Inside were biscuits, buns, steamed dumplings, sticky rice, soy milk, black rice porridge, and milk.
With one hand in his pocket, he said in the coolest tone: “Breakfast.”
Shan Shan: “…”
Shan Shan: “Are you trying to stuff me to death?”
Dai Duo: “I’m letting you choose. Are you going to eat it all and let me starve?”
Shan Shan didn’t choose. Her gaze moved past the plastic bags to the people behind Dai Duo.
Before she could look for long, a warm, large hand grasped her chin, forcibly turning it back.
“Don’t look over there, it’s none of your business… Look at me.”
Shan Shan looked at him: “Are you going to fight?”
Dai Duo: “None of your business.”
Shan Shan: “Don’t fight. The team will punish you if they find out.”
Dai Duo: “Mind your own business.”
Shan Shan frowned.
Her expression said, “I’m going to tell my brother.”
Dai Duo: “…”
Dai Duo: “Alright.”
Dai Duo: “I won’t fight.”
The young man turned his head and spoke to the bewildered senior students behind him in the laziest, most insincere voice: “Sorry, although I still don’t know what I did, anyway, my apologies if I offended you. You can go now, bye-bye.”
Senior students: “?”
The young man turned his head back.
Staring at the busybody in the wheelchair in front of him, he thought about going to remove the elevator button for the third-floor high school classrooms tomorrow.
Dai Duo: “Are we done? Soy milk or milk?”