The two of them held each other and kissed, and as the moment grew warmer, Fang Long started teasing Zhou Ya again.

She said she wanted to look at him.

“Nothing much to see, I’m built like anyone else…”

Zhou Ya was warm, having already taken off his shirt. A light sheen of sweat covered his chest and back, catching the faint light from the window.

He gently tucked a strand of hair behind Fang Long’s ear, in a rare joking mood. “I’m not much to look at, kind of embarrassing to show off.”

Fang Long’s voice was soft and content. “You’ll see eventually anyway.” Her hand crept toward the waistband of his pants.

Zhou Ya didn’t even need to look — he swatted her hand away without missing a beat. “Have you no shame? Turning into such a troublemaker at your age.”

Fang Long giggled, flashing her cute little canine tooth.

Zhou Ya gave up, letting go of her and sitting up. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

He could handle it when Fang Long was being difficult with him. But when she smiled at him like that, he had no defenses left.

He felt a little self-conscious. Taking care of her earlier hadn’t embarrassed him, but now, somehow, it felt different.

He pulled off his sweatpants and kicked them aside, leaning against the headboard with his legs stretched out. His boxers were light gray, faded slightly from washing, but still held their shape well, doing their best to contain what was underneath.

He wasn’t in much better shape than she was.

Fang Long lifted her chin, looking pleased with herself. “About even, then.”

Zhou Ya narrowed his eyes at her. “Still want to look?”

Fang Long nodded, then suddenly added another request. “I want to watch you take care of yourself.”

“…Watch me do what?”

She didn’t spell it out, but he understood anyway.

Zhou Ya shot her a look and muttered, “Such a troublemaker…”

What she hadn’t been able to see clearly that other night, she could see plainly now. His low, ragged breathing reached her ears, and warmth spread through her.

She looked up and met his gaze, dark and unreadable. He hadn’t looked away from her the whole time, his eyes moving over her like a caress.

Having had a taste, he wanted more. He crooked a finger at her. “Come here.” His voice was barely audible, rough with effort.

Fang Long, unusually obedient in that moment, crawled over and was immediately pulled against him, his arm circling her waist.

He kissed her fiercely, and she let out a small, surprised sound before catching herself. He nipped gently at her lip in response, a quiet warning. She murmured something incoherent back, too caught up in the moment to know what she’d said, then kissed him back just as eagerly.

She used to complain that Zhou Ya was too controlling, always managing every little thing about her life. But sometimes she wondered — if he ever stopped, would she even know what to do with herself?

Zhou Ya lost himself for a while but never forgot about her, and afterward, they lay together, both worn out and content.

They stayed close for a bit longer before Zhou Ya called a stop.

“I’m going to clean up. You want to as well?” He got up, picking up the shirt he’d used earlier, now beyond saving.

Fang Long was too tired to even roll over. “…I’ll skip it.”

Pulling his sweatpants back on, Zhou Ya glanced down and noticed the marks on her skin. Against her pale complexion, they stood out, red and vivid.

He’d never seen freshly fallen snow in person. He thought that even the most beautiful snowscape couldn’t compare to her.

He went to tidy up in the bathroom, washing and changing what needed changing. The washing machine on the balcony had finished its cycle, so he hung the clothes up piece by piece. Then he wet a warm towel and brought it to her room to gently wipe her down.

The warmth made Fang Long even drowsier, and by the time he finished, she’d already drifted off to sleep.

He allowed himself a small smile and tucked the blanket around her, just as he’d done countless times before.

As he turned to leave, something tugged at his pant leg. Still asleep, she mumbled, half in a dream, “Brother, don’t go…”

The moment struck a chord with an old memory.

The winter of Fang Long’s first year of high school, she’d come down with a bad fever, well over 39 degrees, that wouldn’t break. By two or three in the morning, Zhou Ya couldn’t wait any longer and decided to take her to the hospital. It wasn’t far, just the next street over, so instead of taking the delivery van, he carried her there on his back the whole way.

She needed to stay for an IV drip, so Zhou Ya sat beside her. She kept nodding off, her head drooping, and it bothered him to watch, so he let her lean against his shoulder instead.

He hadn’t known she talked in her sleep — maybe it was the fever — murmuring quietly, though he couldn’t make out a word of it. Listening to her, he eventually grew drowsy himself.

He must have dozed off, because when he woke, his head was resting against hers. Noticing the IV bag was nearly empty, he started to get up to call a nurse.

That’s when Fang Long’s hand caught his, weak and trembling. Her fingertips were ice cold, pale against his skin.

“Brother, don’t go,” she’d said.

Fang Long rarely let her guard down in front of him like that. Sometimes she’d act vulnerable to get what she wanted, but that was always a performance. Moments like this, when she truly let go of her defenses, were the only times he saw her at her softest.

“What a handful you are. Ren Jianbai always says I’ve spoiled you rotten.” Zhou Ya sighed and climbed into the bed beside her.

Fang Long cracked her eyes open just enough to confirm it was him, then shifted over to make room. Zhou Ya pulled her close. “Get some sleep.”

She murmured something and settled down, her breathing evening out as she fell asleep again.

Zhou Ya didn’t sleep. He wasn’t tired at all, lying there staring at the dim ceiling.

This room used to be his. When Fang Long moved in, he’d given it to her and moved himself into the small storage room next door. She’d never really changed the layout — she still used all his old furniture, the same sheets, the same blanket, the same pillows. Whatever they gave her, she used without complaint, rarely asking for anything more.

Ma Huimin often asked if she wanted to redecorate, told her to think of this as her own home and not feel like she had to be polite with them. Fang Long always just smiled and said it was already more than enough.

Listening to her murmur in her sleep, Zhou Ya rested his hand over hers and gave her little finger a gentle tug before closing his eyes and drifting off beside her.

He slept lightly and woke before dawn. Carefully, he slid his numb arm out from under her, smoothed her hair, and slipped out of the room.

The food stall would be open tonight, so he needed to make a market run in the morning. Might as well stay up — he went to putter around the kitchen making breakfast.

By the time Ma Huimin got up, the pressure cooker was letting off steam with a soft hiss.

She walked into the kitchen, a little surprised. “Oh? You’re up early today.”

Zhou Ya turned down the heat. “Yeah, figured I’d get to the market early too. Need anything? I’ll pick it up while I’m out.”

“Just get some greens and leafy vegetables.”

“Sure.”

Having raised him for over twenty years, Ma Huimin could tell right away that Zhou Ya was in an unusually good mood. She leaned against the doorframe, smiling. “See, I told you — meeting new people does you good. Look at you. So, how’d it go with her last night? Did you two hit it off?”

Zhou Ya paused, momentarily thinking she meant him and Fang Long, wondering how on earth his mother could have found out. A few seconds later, it clicked — she meant the girl who’d come over last night.

He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet to serve Ma Huimin some rice porridge and said plainly, “Mom, don’t set me up on any more dates or introduce me to anyone else. I already have someone I like.”

Ma Huimin’s eyes went wide, immediately assuming he meant Xiao Ying. Her voice rose with excitement. “Well look at you! What brought this on all of a sudden? That’s great, that’s great! I’ll call her mom later and see about getting you two more time together!”

Zhou Ya quickly corrected her. “No, Mom. It’s someone else I like.”

The excitement drained right out of Ma Huimin’s face. She blinked, stunned. “Huh? It’s not Xiao Ying?”

Zhou Ya didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh. “How could it be? We only met once, last night. You think I’d fall for someone that fast?”

“Why not? Your dad and I, back at the factory, we were—” Ma Huimin caught herself, a little disappointed, then asked, “So who is this girl, then? The way you’re talking, you two must have known each other a while.”

What had happened last night felt as sudden and unexpected as a volcano erupting out of nowhere. Zhou Ya thought he should talk it over with Fang Long first, pick the right moment to tell his mother properly.

He just smiled and looked down. “Yeah… it’s been a while.”