A sea of people.

The shopping mall in the days before the New Year was packed as though admission were free — men and women, young and old, crammed in shoulder to shoulder. Her mother complained the whole way through: “I told you to come home sooner, but you wouldn’t listen. Look at this — the shelves are practically picked clean.”

“How could they be picked clean.” Zhu Yun stepped out of the elevator weighed down by bags of every size, arriving at the third floor — women’s fashion. “There’s still plenty left.”

“Whatever’s left has been picked over by everyone else.” Her mother had her own armful of bags. “And you didn’t even bring any of your clothes back from school, so now we have to buy absolutely everything from scratch.”

Zhu Yun quietly pulled a face.

That day she had been in such a rush — by the time she got back to the dormitory, she had only managed to pack her laptop and books. Her clothes hadn’t even crossed her mind.

They stepped into a boutique. Her mother began working through the racks. Zhu Yun followed along behind her, and gradually her attention drifted.

Today…

She glanced down at her watch. Midday already.

Had he gotten everything ready? Had he already left for the company?

Zhu Yun had sent Li Xun a text that morning, but there had been no reply. She didn’t dare call out of nowhere — she was afraid of disrupting him at the wrong moment.

This is unbearable.

“What do you think of this one?”

“Ugly.”

“……..”

Zhu Yun coughed twice and offered an apologetic explanation to the wide-eyed sales assistant standing nearby. “Sorry — what I meant was… it’s actually quite nice.”

Her mother said, “Didn’t you sleep well last night? You don’t seem quite yourself.”

Zhu Yun rubbed the side of her nose. “Maybe I’m a little tired from the journey.”

Her mother was most understanding. She turned to the sales assistant and said, “All she knows is studying — if I hadn’t said something she’d have stayed at school right up to the New Year. The girl pays absolutely no attention to how she presents herself.”

The sales assistant, reading the room with practiced ease, said admiringly, “Well, that speaks very well of her! Any customer who comes in with that kind of bearing — you can tell straightaway she’s a dedicated student.”

Her mother held out a dress toward Zhu Yun. “Go and try this on — it’s beautiful.”

Zhu Yun took the dress and went into the fitting room. Changing clothes in winter was always a production. She took off her glasses and prepared to pull off her knit sweater. She’d gotten it halfway over her head when her phone buzzed.

Zhu Yun jolted as if an electric current had passed through her. Forgetting the sweater entirely — it was now jammed around her neck — she freed one hand and groped for the phone.

It was Li Xun’s reply, as she had hoped.

“On my way. Talk later.”

Talk later — how much later?

There were so many things she wanted to ask him, but the timing felt all wrong. In the end she sent back just two words:

“Good luck.”

Li Xun didn’t reply.

Zhu Yun changed into the dress, head lowered, and pushed open the fitting room door. The sales assistant looked at her with a ready smile, clearly about to launch into a compliment — when she noticed a rather critical problem.

“Miss, your dress is on inside out.”

Zhu Yun looked down.

“…”

Her mother had been browsing the other racks and looked over at the scene. “I don’t know where your head is at, day in and day out.”

Zhu Yun went back in without a word and changed again. When she emerged a second time, the sales assistant finally got to deliver her verdict: “Lovely! Miss, white really suits you — your complexion is absolutely beautiful!”

Zhu Yun looked down to put her glasses back on. The sales assistant added, “You actually look even better without your glasses, miss.”

Without my glasses I can barely see a thing.

Fully put together, Zhu Yun looked toward the mirror.

Her mother’s taste was, she had to admit, genuinely excellent. A white dress in a crisp, structured fabric, the hem scattered with tiny delicate flowers, paired with a single-finger-width doeskin belt at the waist. Since it was a winter piece, a pale-toned short fur jacket had been styled over the top. Zhu Yun’s face peeked out from the soft fur trim, looking especially small and fine-featured.

“It’s gorgeous! Just gorgeous! It’s absolutely made for you!” The sales assistant was effusive in her recommendation.

Her mother, bathed in all this praise, was all smiles. She looked at Zhu Yun and said, “I have good taste, don’t I?”

Zhu Yun nodded.

Her mother turned to the sales assistant. “We’ll take it.”

After buying several more outfits — by which point Zhu Yun felt her arms might give out under the weight of all the bags — her mother was finally satisfied.

“That should be enough.” Her mother said. “We’re going visiting relatives and family friends in a few days — I won’t have you showing up looking like you pulled things out of a rubbish bin.”

On the way home, her mother ran through the holiday schedule in detail. Zhu Yun listened with half her attention. Back at the house, her mother started on dinner. Zhu Yun had no appetite to speak of, muttered something about reviewing her coursework, and headed upstairs.

“Reviewing what coursework? You’ve just gone on holiday — you don’t even have next semester’s textbooks!”

Zhu Yun: “Previewing! I said previewing!”

Her mother called up from below, apron strings in hand. “You don’t need to do that over the New Year!”

“Oh honestly, if she wants to read, let her read.” From the living room, Zhu Guangyi sat with his tea and newspaper. “When she’s not studying you’re more upset than anyone, and when she is you’re still not happy. What exactly do you want from her?”

Her mother retied her apron, looked up at the ceiling toward where Zhu Yun had disappeared, and said nothing.

Zhu Yun fell onto her bed and began yet another round of restless turning.

She checked her watch, then her phone, then everything else within her line of sight.

Why does time move so slowly?

She tried picking up a book. She tried writing code. Nothing held. There was a weight sitting on her chest that wouldn’t settle up or down — all she could feel was a restless, grinding unease.

When her mother called her downstairs for dinner in the evening, Zhu Yun had no appetite at all. She gave distracted, half-formed answers to her parents’ discussion about studying abroad.

“What did you think of your older brother Xiaoyu?”

“He seems nice.”

“Opportunities to study abroad like that are rare these days — fewer students means more resources. Though your Auntie Jiang said Xiaoyu really had a hard time of it in the early years. There’s still prejudice against us over there.”

Zhu Yun shrugged.

Her mother: “But if you have real ability, you can still make people sit up and take notice. You can’t stay locked inside your own small circle — you have to find your way into the wider world.”

Zhu Yun’s mind was completely elsewhere. She glanced toward the window.

“It’s snowing again,” she said.

“Again?” Her mother smiled. “This is the first snow of the year here.”

Zhu Yun stilled for a moment.

So that day, this city had not seen any snow.

That snowfall had only been seen by the two of them. In that realization, something quietly settled inside her.

At two in the morning, Zhu Yun received Li Xun’s reply —

“All done.”

She let out a long, slow breath. She got out of bed, turned the lock on her door, then climbed back in and pulled the blanket up over her head. She called Li Xun.

“Hello?”

“Li Xun…”

“Hm. You’re still awake?”

Li Xun sounded like he was outside — she could hear the wind through the phone.

Zhu Yun: “I was just watching TV with my family.”

He gave a short scoff. Clearly unconvinced.

Zhu Yun pressed her lips together. “So… that thing…”

“Which thing?”

She heard the click of a lighter. Zhu Yun dropped all attempts at indirectness and asked outright: “Did you meet with the people from Lan Guan? What did they say? Why did it go so late?”

“A bunch of idiots — spent half the time just demonstrating the software.”

“Were they happy with it?”

“Very happy, aside from the home page image being hideous.”

“…………”

“We’ll go over the contract in more detail tomorrow. Should be settled before the New Year.”

“Oh.”

Li Xun stood smoking at a windswept street corner. The snow was heavier than before, the temperature lower in the night air, a thin white layer already accumulated on the ground.

He said, with a trace of a smile in his voice: “Alright. Are you satisfied now? Go to sleep.”

Zhu Yun: “Wait — is your cold better?”

Li Xun: “Better.”

“Then get some rest too. Go home and enjoy the New Year.”

Li Xun’s breathing paused for a brief moment, then he gave a low sound of acknowledgement.

She hung up, and the heavy weight that had been sitting inside her finally came to rest.

Zhu Yun stretched her arms out wide, then pressed her face deep into the pillow — pushed it down as hard as she could — drew a breath, and tensed every muscle in her body, releasing a full-throated roar.

“Ahhhh——!”

She had buried the pillow deep enough that by the time she lifted her face, the brief lack of air had left her vision sparkling with spots.

Zhu Yun flopped back against the bed, dizzy and elated.

That felt magnificent.

She was truly at ease now — though that did not mean sleep was coming any time soon. Zhu Yun spent the night in a state of pure exhilaration and was still entirely full of energy the next morning.

In the days that followed, she began helping her mother with the New Year preparations. Due to her father Zhu Guangyi’s position, their household received a great number of guests each year over the holiday period — scholars and people from the academic world, mostly, with many customs and protocols to observe.

Fortunately, all of those gatherings came after New Year’s Eve itself.

The reunion dinner was just family. The restaurant had been booked over two months in advance and was completely full. Zhu Yun’s grandfather had already passed. Her grandmother, now in her eighties, had difficulty with her legs and her mind had grown somewhat clouded. Because both of Zhu Yun’s parents were busy with work and there was no one to care for her properly, her father had arranged for her to live in a high-end care facility, visited once a week.

They had reserved an early sitting — dinner at seven, finished by just past eight. Her grandmother’s energy only stretched so far. After the younger members of the family had paid their respects, she was already drowsy, and the whole family drove her back to the care facility together.

The city rang with firecrackers — a wall of sound, impossible to hear over.

On the drive home after dropping off her grandmother, Zhu Guangyi was at the wheel. Zhu Yun was too full to make conversation. She leaned her head against the cold window and tilted her eyes up toward the sky.

Tonight, the sky was far livelier than the streets.

Fireworks blazed across it from every direction.

The car turned into the residential complex. Buildings rose up and blocked her view. Zhu Yun unclipped her seatbelt, ready to get out — and in that moment, she caught sight of someone standing by the ornamental fountain in the courtyard outside.

The car turned quickly down a side lane, and she only glimpsed the figure for an instant — tall, rough outline, not enough to make out even the most basic identifying detail, like the color of his hair. Her heart was already hammering.

Don’t get worked up yet, she told herself. Tall men are everywhere.

It was no use. She was completely worked up.

Back inside, her mother went to turn on the television. Zhu Yun made straight for the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

She took out her phone and called Li Xun.

Two rings, and he picked up.

“Hello?”

“…”

What was she supposed to say?

Zhu Yun: “…Happy New Year.”

“You too.”

“So… how did the software situation turn out?”

“Wrapped up ages ago. Contract’s done too.”

Zhu Yun made a sound. Li Xun asked from his end, “What are you up to?”

Zhu Yun sat on the closed toilet lid. “Not much — we just finished dinner. What about you?”

“Got the advance payment. About to go hand out the bonus money to the team.”

“Wait, what?” Zhu Yun was completely lost.

“What do you mean, what?” He sounded like he was smiling.

“Li Xun…”

“I’m at your front door.”

Zhu Yun nearly crushed her phone.

As I thought! That was you just now! You! You! I knew I wasn’t imagining things!

She stood up and paced in a small circle, then lowered her voice and asked in rapid succession:

“How did you know where I live?”

The man had the audacity to sound entirely at ease. “Was it really so difficult to look up your student records?”

“…”

That is not what computer skills are for.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Zhu Yun’s heart leapt — then she remembered she had locked it.

“Zhu Yun, come out and have some fruit! We’ve got mango and pomelo — which do you want?” Her mother’s voice.

Zhu Yun called through the door: “Either’s fine — pomelo!”

Her mother’s footsteps receded.

She hadn’t heard. Zhu Yun silently thanked the firecrackers.

She brought the phone back to her ear.

“The thing is, Li Xun, later I might not be able to…”

“I know.” Li Xun’s voice was calm. “You know the Lihua Inn, don’t you?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t far — two streets over, a small guesthouse.

“I’m staying there. Come by when you can.”

“Okay.”

She was just about to say something more when her mother knocked again.

“What’s taking so long? The apple slices are going soft.”

“Coming, just a moment!”

By the time Zhu Yun raised the phone to her ear again, Li Xun had already ended the call.

She went out to sit with her parents in the living room — television on, fruit in her mouth, eyes on the screen but not seeing any of it.

She watched the cheerful New Year skit playing out before her, and it suddenly occurred to her that she had forgotten to ask him something just now.

Tonight is New Year’s Eve. Why didn’t you go home?