After crossing the road, Cen Jin hugged Teddy, and they exchanged “Happy New Year” greetings, and went their separate ways.

The woman turned the corner and walked into an elegant bakery, asking at the counter whether her pre-ordered four-inch cake was ready.

The baker said it was still being decorated and would call her when it was done.

With customers pressing shoulder to shoulder around her, Cen Jin could only step outside for some air.

She looked up at the sky, snowflakes falling directly onto her face as if white clouds had been crushed and scattered. The woman freed one hand, holding it suspended in the air, letting snowflakes melt in her palm. Her eyes sparkled, showing a glimpse of girlish innocence, but quickly, she returned her hand to her pocket, resuming her previous air of casual indifference.

After standing there briefly, Cen Jin took out her phone to check it.

The WeChat chat box was empty. By logic, it should be snowing at Li Wu’s campus too, so why hadn’t this kid shared anything yet?

Moreover, wasn’t he coming home for the New Year?

Suspicious, Cen Jin made a call.

He answered neither quickly nor slowly, with slightly noisy background sounds, but unlike usual, he didn’t speak immediately.

Cen Jin said “hello” with a smile and asked: “Where are you?”

The other end was silent for a few seconds, then replied: “Still at school.”

“Hm?” Cen Jin’s brows furrowed slightly: “Do you have an event today? Sounds quite noisy there, are you at the student center?”

The youth gave a faint “mm.”

Cen Jin glanced at a nearby streetlight: “So you can’t come back today?”

Li Wu just “mm’d” again, paused, then added: “Won’t be able to come back this whole break.”

Cen Jin was surprised: “Not even for your birthday?”

“Got something on New Year’s Day, no time.”

Cen Jin felt somewhat dejected: “Alright,” just then someone called out “Miss Cen—” from inside the store, and the woman quickly turned and waved her hand before saying to the phone: “I’ll hang up first then.”

Cen Jin took the cake that was meant for Li Wu back home, put it in the refrigerator, then took out a bottle of wine and sat in the living room, pouring drinks for herself.

This New Year’s Eve felt particularly off-kilter for her, probably because she had spent the past two years with Li Wu, including celebrating the youth’s birthday in between, with clear and definite plans. Now that things had suddenly gone awry, she felt somewhat at a loss, not knowing where to place herself.

She sent a message to Chun Chang, asking where she was.

Chun Chang said she had left for Xing City with her parents in the morning, then sent a picture of a milk tea topped with thick cream.

Cen Jin rolled her eyes, replied “tasteless,” closed WeChat, and turned on the TV to watch the New Year’s Eve show.

Even though she and Li Wu were separated for this New Year, before midnight, Cen Jin still sent him a blessing message.

The youth replied: Sister, Happy New Year.

Cen Jin smiled gently, telling him: I bought you a laptop and was planning to give it to you in person, but since you can’t come back, forget it, I’ll courier it to you tomorrow.

Li Wu replied: No need, I’ll buy one myself with my scholarship money.

Cen Jin laughed: You haven’t even finished your first year, and you’re already so sure you’ll get a scholarship? Besides, I’ve already bought it, are you asking me to return it?

The other side stopped responding, and after a while just said: Mm.

His sudden formality made Cen Jin slightly uncomfortable. She frowned and asked: What’s wrong, why do I feel like you’re not very happy?

Li Wu said: Nothing, just busy.

Cen Jin wondered: Busy with what? It’s already midnight.

Li Wu said: Setting off fireworks outside.

Li Wu was indeed setting off fireworks with his roommates on the sports field, but not the large kind that could light up the sky—just small, delicate sparklers.

His three roommates were all from out of town and, due to the short holiday, hadn’t gone home.

Seeing the young man return with snow covering his head and shoulders, his face ashen, everyone was quite surprised.

Li Wu made up a casual excuse to brush it off, and his roommates didn’t suspect anything, even enthusiastically inviting him to join their night walk.

Many students had gathered at the South Field to celebrate the New Year, heads crowding together. Girls linked arms in groups of two or three, while couples held hands and embraced.

The snow lay thick like a white carpet, glowing faintly in the night.

Some people cheerfully stepped on it making crunching sounds, others made snowballs to throw at each other and chase around; the entire campus was filled with the revelry of youthful freedom.

The four single science majors from Li Wu’s dorm were purely there to join in the excitement.

Xu Shuo, being from Jiangnan, found it all fresh and exciting, rolling around like a cat, almost wanting to bury himself in the snow; Zhong Wenxuan, used to such scenes, shouted while wanting to kick it: “What’s the big deal about this—”

Li Wu gazed at several floating sky lanterns, gradually fading into tiny stars in the twilight before disappearing completely.

He was just like them, carrying wishes and being deliberately set adrift, but unable to leave any trace behind.

The youth lowered his eyes in sadness.

In the night, no one noticed. Wen Hui handed out several sparklers, smiling as he distributed them to his roommates: “A girl nearby gave them to us.”

Zhong Wenxuan’s eyes darted around: “Who?”

Wen Hui pointed behind them: “This beautiful lady.”

The ponytailed girl leaned forward, tilting her head, waving with a bright smile: “No need to be polite.”

Her teeth were like pearls, her smile extremely infectious, making Zhong Wenxuan unconsciously grin foolishly too: “She is beautiful.”

Hearing this, Xu Shuo quickly got up, patted his bottom, and thanked her awkwardly.

Li Wu was replying to Cen Jin’s message and was the last to take a sparkler. Seeing this, the girl pointed at Li Wu and asked: “Can these sparklers be exchanged for his WeChat?”

Wow, Xu Shuo shrugged, wearing an expression of someone watching entertainment unfold.

The girl turned to look at Li Wu, her gaze enthusiastic and direct: “I’m Wan Chun, a freshman in New Media. Can I get to know you?”

“Go on, Li Wu.” Zhong Wenxuan nudged his arm, encouraging.

Li Wu looked at Wan Chun. The girl wore a pink down jacket, her face bright and fair, like a delicate cherry blossom petal on the snow.

His roommates’ urging continued unabated.

In that instant, Li Wu remembered Cen Jin on the opposite side of the crosswalk, the man beside her, and their final embrace.

They had looked so sincere and compatible, at least more emotional than the messages she sent in reply to him.

She was so confident, so matter-of-fact, while he, because of his young age, because he wasn’t by her side, would only be the least important one she dealt with casually.

Several dark thoughts began to sprout, attempting to break through, and Li Wu couldn’t help but clench his fist. But in the next second, before the vengeful fireworks could explode, they were prematurely extinguished.

The young man’s spirits sank to their lowest point. Without saying a word, he hurriedly stuffed all the sparklers back into his roommate’s hands and turned to leave.

Xu Shuo called out twice from behind, but the young man didn’t hear, walking with large strides toward the dormitory.

The countdown echoed from the field as students swarmed forward, rushing toward the New Year. Only Li Wu walked against the flow, carrying a pain like his heart had been split open.

—

Cen Jin noticed something unusual.

Li Wu had gradually become less talkative, no longer eager to share his daily colorful activities and experiences, becoming brief and faded.

During the winter break while spending New Year at her parents’, she sensed something was wrong. Although they still talked as usual, the youth always seemed to be standing behind a screen door, his face unclear, no longer as transparent as before.

Whether intentional or not, he had begun to hide himself. The cover of the alcohol lamp was closed, the flame extinguished—the chemical reaction he could bring her had vanished completely, leaving only a barely visible trace of gray smoke.

Cen Jin wasn’t someone who liked to give warmth to cold responses, so her protective coloring would correspondingly shift from warm to cold.

But she didn’t quite understand where the problem lay.

In the quiet of the night, after long contemplation, Cen Jin thought she had found an answer.

Perhaps she had jinxed it—the Little Prince had found a flower truly suited for him in the larger universe, or a kindred fox, and the tiny planet he had once inhabited had indeed become just as insignificant as she had said.

Her pride wouldn’t allow her to question first—losing the initiative meant she would be subordinate in this relationship, and become the loser.

She was supposed to be the one holding power over life and death, that vain and proud rose.

And this vain and proud rose soon slapped her face.

After the Grain in Ear solar term, the company was going to shoot on an island. Since Cen Jin got seasick, she didn’t travel with her colleagues but drove to the destination herself.

Passing by F University, she deliberately brought snacks and clothes she had bought two days earlier, wanting to give them to Li Wu in person.

It was a form of elder’s goodwill to remind him that she was still there, still within their agreement.

She chose noon, naturally planning to have lunch with him before leaving.

She called Li Wu in advance to tell him she was coming.

The youth said he had just left the laboratory and was about to go eat, telling her to wait at the east gate.

After arriving at F University’s east gate, Cen Jin got out of the car with the paper bag, inexplicably becoming nervous, checking her clothes and makeup several times.

The sunlight was brilliant, and looking at the young faces passing by, Cen Jin suddenly felt somewhat dazed.

She had once been one of them, but now she was completely out of place.

She stood there, elegant in bearing, like a polished and refined precision instrument, yet no longer possessing that absolute purity and authenticity.

Soon, she snapped out of her daze because a familiar figure appeared in sight.

The youth was walking from far down the boulevard, with several students beside him. But he was the most eye-catching among them, with his tall stature and deep-set features, his presence as distinctive as cypress wood.

They were both male and female students, all chatting and laughing.

Li Wu blended in with them, focused entirely on their conversation, not looking this way at all. After a moment, he finally glanced over, saw her, and stopped talking to his companions, but he still walked unhurriedly, completely lacking his previous attitude of not daring to show the slightest negligence.

Soon, the young man reached the gate with his fellow students.

But he didn’t leave the group to come to her alone, instead telling the others to wait for him a moment.

He had no intention of having lunch with her.

Cen Jin curved her lips, picked up her things, concealed all emotions, and took the initiative to walk forward.

She put on a smile as delicate and sharp as diamond-studded scissors as if deliberately drawing a line between herself and all the uncut jade present: “I happen to be going to Xianyou Island for work, so I brought you some things on the way.”

Li Wu reached out to take the paper bag, saying thanks.

They kept looking into each other’s eyes, but it wasn’t like a confrontation, just an ordinary exchange of glances.

Cen Jin secretly tried to analyze, attempting to catch some fluctuation in the youth’s eyes, but regrettably, his eyes were like a quiet lake—only quietness remained.

Cen Jin looked away, saying neutrally: “I’m leaving.”

“Okay, drive safely,” Li Wu replied in a similar tone, then turned back to find his fellow students.

They had all been curiously watching for a while, and a long-haired senior sister smiled and asked: “Li Wu, who was that?”

The youth’s voice carried on the wind to Cen Jin’s ears, just two light words: “My sister.”

—

After returning from Xianyou Island, Cen Jin entered a strange cycle, a dead end that she was ashamed to speak of.

She stopped initiating contact with Li Wu, but she began consciously looking at youthful fashion styles, age-reducing makeup tutorials, and youth movies that would only invite ridicule and disdain.

She seized every opportunity to get cosmetic treatments and go to the gym, obsessing over her condition and age like a stubborn ox.

She had never been like this before.

Li Wu’s indifference had shattered her confidence, composure, and unflappability. She had once believed that she was at her best, most beautiful, and most unique at every stage of life, but now it didn’t seem so certain.

At least her ex-husband from their long-running romance didn’t think so, and neither did her young admirer.

Chun Chang noticed these changes and worried about her condition. During a weekend dinner, she asked what was going on lately.

Cen Jin pushed away any desserts that might hinder her anti-aging efforts, stubbornly denying: “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

Chun Chang looked at her suspiciously: “Are you dating Li Wu?”

“How could that be possible,” Cen Jin denied: “Why would I date such a young boy?”

Chun Chang put a spoonful in her mouth: “Your clothing style has changed a lot lately, I thought you were afraid of looking out of place walking with him.”

Cen Jin’s face was cold: “I’m working, he’s studying, how could we walk together? I just want a change of mood.”

“But you don’t look like you’re in a good mood at all, haha.” Chun Chang showed no mercy.

Cen Jin’s emotions suddenly collapsed, no longer able to hide her resentment: “I’ve found that all men are the same, it’s all the same story, regardless of age.”

Chun Chang rested her chin on her hand: “Where did you get that conclusion?”

“Li Wu used to like me desperately, but now? How long has he been in university, and he’s already a completely different person,” Cen Jin was disgusted with herself: “I even made a one-year agreement with him, and strictly observed it. It feels so ironic like I’m the silly eighteen-year-old girl when I’m almost thirty.”

Chun Chang cupped her face in both hands: “Jingin, I’ve always thought you were like a young girl, at least in matters of the heart. You seem rational, but actually, you’re afraid of your emotions getting hurt.”

Cen Jin smiled self-mockingly: “That’s why I’m always so miserable, always the one abandoned in advance.”

Chun Chang asked curiously: “What’s going on with Li Wu?”

“How would I know? Men’s changes of heart are completely unreasonable.”

Chun Chang asked: “You’re the one who insisted on this one-year agreement, why didn’t you just grab hold of him last year?”

Cen Jin thought for a moment: “I don’t want to test love through trial and error anymore.”

Chun Chang sipped her juice: “How will you know if it’s right or wrong if you don’t try?”

“Aren’t I allowed to be afraid?” Cen Jin’s eyes grew slightly hot, her finger touching her lip as she turned to look out the restaurant’s clear window: “I don’t want to fall in love again, so what’s wrong with doing a little experiment first? Facts proved I was right—a boy who said he would contact me every day became cold and perfunctory after just one semester.”

Chun Chang asked: “Then how did you treat him in this experiment?”

“I tried my best. After leaving behind the sponsorship relationship and the small space of nursing my injury, I was always trying to explore and cultivate a new rhythm with him, but I found it too difficult. Maybe it’s because our differences are too great, plus now we barely see each other a few times a year. All efforts are futile in the face of age and distance. Li Wu probably feels the same way—he’s not as enthusiastic about me as before, and I’m not even sure if he still likes me anymore.”

Cen Jin sniffed: “Maybe it’s because I’ve never lacked anything since childhood, never needed to exchange love for anything—fame, status, material things, none of it matters—so I have extremely high requirements for the purity of love. The love I want is just love itself. Is there no such thing as that kind of solitary courage, intense and unwavering, hundred-percent love in this world? Does it need to be exchanged for restructuring oneself, does the price need to be so high? Is love that needs to be obtained through change and compromise still true love? Are they still loving the real me?”

“I’m sick of myself during this time, no longer confident, trying to change—what am I doing? I won’t be like this anymore.”

A hot tear escaped from her right eye, and Cen Jin quickly wiped it away, pulling back the dessert that should have been hers and eating it spoonful by spoonful.

…

On the first day of August, Li Wu, who had stayed at school for summer experiments, received a message from Cen Jin.

The woman’s tone was as usual, not asking about results, just like issuing a pardon, and delivering her blessing as promised:

Our one-year agreement ends here. Wishing you happiness and a bright future.