When Si Wan and Si Er returned to the Wen household, Ah Heng was already asleep. Though she expected insomnia, that night turned out to be her most peaceful sleep since arriving at the Wen family.

No dreams, no worries, no fears.

Perhaps it was the effect of Christmas Eve – peaceful and serene.

In the early morning, she was the first to rise. Downstairs, Aunt Zhang was diligently preparing breakfast as usual. The kitchen was warm, with the sweet aroma of rice porridge wafting through the air.

Ah Heng inhaled the fragrance, hearing Aunt Zhang humming the familiar tune of “Sha Family Village.” She smiled, realizing Si Er must have returned with Si Wan, or else Aunt Zhang wouldn’t be so happy.

The doorbell chimed.

Aunt Zhang, once in the kitchen, was in her “do not disturb” mode and naturally wouldn’t hear the doorbell.

Ah Heng ran to open the door – it was the postman.

Someone had sent a greeting card addressed to: Yun Heng.

It was the simplest of cards, rough paper, crude printing, small-town style, and frighteningly heartwarming.

Each stroke was clean and careful.

Yun Zai’s handwriting had never been good. Confined to his sickbed for years, he rarely had chances to practice writing, and even his schooling consisted mostly of listening.

The handwriting before her, given Yun Zai’s condition, must have taken tremendous effort. Fortunately, unlike Ah Heng, he was very intelligent.

“Yun Heng, I hate you so much.”

She blinked her reddening eyes, her nose stinging.

“But not as much as I miss you.”

Closing the card, tears fell.

By such coincidence, across mountains and seas, the card arrived in her hands on Christmas Day, yet printed with: Happy New Year.

Whose scenery did it match, and whose feelings did it reflect?

Her Zai Zai was just like her – provincial and silly. He didn’t know about Western holidays but had estimated the timing, sending it long ago, hoping that before 1999 began, his sister, whom he stubbornly addressed as “Yun Heng,” would receive his New Year’s wishes.

How many winds and rains, snows, and dreams did this single card traverse from Wu Shui to B City to become so precious?

A young boy, confined to his sickbed, contemplating with closed eyes – how long did it take to compose these two lines?

When Si Wan came downstairs holding Si Er’s hand, Ah Heng was eating breakfast, head lowered, silent. His heart ached, not knowing what to say.

“Ah Heng,” Si Er called softly, somewhat timidly. She was deliberately trying to please Ah Heng.

Si Wan felt sorry for Si Er, his lips turning bitter.

Ah Heng looked up, saw the girl’s fair, delicate face, smiled slightly, and nodded: “Si Er, have breakfast.”

Si Wan breathed a sigh of relief.

“Si Wan, eat too.” Ah Heng’s eyebrows curved, her expression calm and gentle.

Si Wan remembered what he’d said at the church. At the time, his mind was heated, trying to comfort Si Er, but had subconsciously hurt Ah Heng.

Fortunately, she couldn’t hear it.

However, returning to find peeled apples on the desk left him at a loss, feeling increasingly guilty.

“Ah Heng, I ate the apple you left yesterday,” Si Wan blurted out.

Ah Heng smiled, nodded, picked up her backpack from behind, and said softly: “I have classroom duty today, I’ll leave first.”

Si Wan wanted to say something, opened his mouth then closed it, feeling powerless.

In the second semester of tenth grade, Ah Heng made a stunning debut in her first final exam after transferring, ranking third in the grade and second in the class.

Everyone knew what ranking in the top three at Xi Lin meant – admission to B University was practically guaranteed. As for Si Wan, he maintained his usual fifth-place ranking, never moving from that position from tenth to eleventh grade.

The entire Wen family was shocked by Ah Heng’s excellent grades. But ultimately, they were delighted. Who wouldn’t be happy to have such an accomplished child in the family? Especially one who had previously been labeled as “useless.”

Grandfather Wen couldn’t stop smiling, praising her to everyone he met, looking at his granddaughter with increasing fondness. Mrs. Wen would take Ah Heng around B City during winter break, buying snacks and clothes as rewards. Though Si Wan was surprised, remembering how hard Ah Heng studied, it made sense.

Si Er had been staying at the Wen house since Christmas. Grandfather Wen remained ambiguous about it, while Mrs. Wen and Si Wan were happy to play dumb.

Only Ah Heng felt awkward – this room had originally been Si Er’s. Now that Si Er was back, should she move out or not?

Si Er had always been physically weak. Sleeping in the hastily prepared guest room, she soon fell ill due to insufficient humidity and weak heating. After several injections at the hospital, the doctor advised rest before returning home.

Afterward, Si Wan paced outside Ah Heng’s room for nearly half an hour.

Ah Heng had known someone was outside from early on, and the footsteps confirmed it was Si Wan. After waiting a long while without him knocking, Ah Heng opened the door.

Si Wan stopped pacing, cleared his throat, and approached: “Ah Heng, are you comfortable in this room?” The youth carefully chose his words, trying to appear casual despite his furrowed brows.

“The room is too big, not comfortable,” Ah Heng smiled, shaking her head.

“Then… would you mind switching to a smaller room?” Si Wan licked his dry lips, asking carefully.

“Okay.” Ah Heng smiled broadly.

Si Wan’s eyes brightened, letting out a breath, dimples pooling like aged wine.

“When is Si Er coming back?” Her voice was soft, and though her lips were thin, her smile wasn’t sharp.

“This afternoon.” Si Wan spoke, then realized he’d said the wrong thing.

“Can I move now?” Ah Heng pushed the half-closed door completely open.

Inside, there was barely a trace of her presence, still looking as it had when Si Er lived there. At the foot of the bed, two pieces of luggage were neatly packed.

She had already prepared everything, pretending not to know while quietly waiting.

Si Wan’s eyes gradually cooled, all his build-up, all his words, all his anxiety now seeming coldly amusing.

He had never dared judge Ah Heng’s simplicity or cleverness as family members did, but clearly, she was smarter than he imagined, considerate to a chilling degree.

He had paced outside her room for so long, such guilt and concern, all erased in an instant.

Anger rose in Si Wan’s heart, his expression icy as he spoke flatly: “Whatever you want, I’ll make it up to you later.”

Ah Heng was stunned, then smiled bitterly, not knowing where to put her hands and feet.

Learning that Ah Heng had moved to the guest room, Grandfather Wen became angry: “Wen Si Wan, who is Ah Heng? Tell me!”

“Grandfather, don’t be angry, it’s my fault, brother, just…” Si Er stood nearby, almost crying with anxiety.

“I’m not your grandfather. If you truly care, calling me ‘Grandfather Wen’ is enough!” The old man frowned, ignoring Si Er, his eyes glaring fiercely at Si Wan.

Si Wan’s hands clenched tight as he looked at Grandfather Wen, speaking word by word: “Grandfather, if you’re not Er Er’s grandfather, naturally you’re not my grandfather either!”

Grandfather Wen was furious, raising his hand to slap the youth’s face.

Si Wan didn’t dodge, facing it head-on. Instantly, five fingerprints appeared on the youth’s face.

Though Grandfather Wen was strict with his grandson, he had never laid a finger on him. Having struck him now, he felt both angry and heartbroken.

“Ah Heng is your biological sister, don’t you know that!” The old man’s heart ached terribly as he took Ah Heng’s hand, pulling her before him.

“Grandfather, what about Er Er?” Si Wan asked word by word, voice choking.

Grandfather Wen’s voice grew old and sad as he took Si Er’s hand, speaking softly: “Good child, consider it our Wen family’s debt to you. You have your good fortune, don’t linger here anymore.”

Ah Heng looked at Si Er.

Si Er’s face instantly turned pale as she looked at Grandfather Wen, eyes brimming with tears. She smiled and opened her mouth but before words came out, tears fell. She suddenly grabbed Ah Heng’s hand, asking through sobs: “If you’re me, then who am I?”

Ah Heng’s eyes were pierced by the girl’s gaze, but when she looked back, she saw her eyes close as her body fell like withered leaves until she lay unconscious on the floor.

Si Wan shouted, scooped up Si Er, and ran out.

The doctor diagnosed that Er Er had fainted due to emotional distress combined with her previous illness not being fully recovered. Recovery wouldn’t be difficult – she just needed to avoid getting upset and rest quietly.

When Ah Heng arrived at the hospital, Si Wan was sitting in the ward, staring blankly at the sleeping Si Er.

She stood outside the door, leaning against the window for a long time, watching for a long time until her feet ached, and her nose ached, but Si Wan never lifted his head.

Later, Mother Wen heard the news and rushed from her piano recital to the ward.

“Ah Heng, go home first. Si Er can’t see you right now.” Mom glanced at her, pushing her outside again.

Ah Heng stood quietly in the corridor, watching people passing by, tortured by illness, their eyes empty.

Go… home?

Where was her home…

Who had built her a maze of loneliness, making her unable to find the way home for so long?

She walked for a long time. The stopped snow began falling again, lingering in her hair until she stood once more before the Wen family door.

But this wasn’t her home.

Ah Heng stayed for a long time but couldn’t summon the courage to open that door.

She smiled slightly and sat on the steps before the white building.

Right now, it would be nice if someone could take her away, Ah Heng thought quietly, sniffling.

On such a snowy day, so cold… The Little Match Girl lit matches and saw everything she wanted, including her beloved grandmother. So what would she see if she lit a match?

Ah Heng held onto this stubborn thought, unable to suppress the spreading hope crying out in her heart. She felt her empty pockets only to find she had no tools for happiness.

Matches? Well, socialist society didn’t have the evils of capitalism, matches were rare now, hard to buy even with money – playing the Little Match Girl wasn’t realistic.

Then, the Little Mermaid? Oh, no tail.

Then, Rapunzel? Well, what was lettuce anyway?

Then, Snow White? Okay, she could be the stepmother, feeding Wen Si Wan poisoned apples…

As Ah Heng thought about these things, she began to chuckle, her mood mysteriously brightening.

She didn’t like to talk, seemed very honest, but always secretly made herself very bad in her heart. Perhaps such a person could become the eternal ruler of the martial arts world like Dongfang Bubai, right?

“What are you laughing at?” A curious voice, pink mask.

Ah Heng looked up and saw Yan Xi again.

He was all in pink – a pink hat, pink coat, pink pants, pink shoes, pink mask, and additionally, a pink backpack.

Pink clothes pure, countenance good, three parts warm color, three parts brilliant color.

“Yan Xi.” She looked at him, eyes warm.

“Mm.” He responded.

“Have you come to save me again?” She smiled, teeth neat, very shy.

He looked at her smile, something flashing in his eyes, but shook his head, just squinting his big bright black eyes, asking her: “That day, do your words still count?”

“What?” Ah Heng was confused.

“Let me take you to play.” The youth’s slender crystalline fingers slipped into his pocket as he spoke.

“You want to take me away?” Ah Heng carefully asked him, hardly daring to breathe.

The youth nodded, a strand of black hair falling from his pink wool hat.

Ah Heng was very moved, looking at the youth with sparkling eyes.

“Help me carry the luggage.” The youth took off his pink backpack from his shoulders, hung it on Ah Heng, rubbed his arms, shook his head, and said softly, “This is killing me.”

Ah Heng said “Oh,” all her emotion turning into exasperation.