The name following “Meng” was exceptionally unclear, difficult to distinguish.

Meng Qiran hesitated for a moment, ultimately abandoning further thought. He extended his arm to embrace Chen Qingwu and patted her back soothingly. “Don’t be afraid… Once we get to the hospital, you won’t be cold anymore.”

He tucked the coat around her more securely, then removed his own padded jacket and covered her with it.

It seemed like returning to childhood, when he would go to the Chen household to visit Qingwu after school.

She had to take so many different pills every day, but she never complained once.

He had asked if they were bitter.

She said she swallowed them in one gulp—how would she carefully taste whether they were bitter or not?

But when he secretly tucked chocolate into her pocket, she smiled very happily.

Meng Qiran pinched her hand and said softly, “Bear with it a bit longer. We’ll be at the hospital soon.”

Arriving at the clinic, after the doctor’s examination, fever-reducing injection fluid was prescribed.

Many people fell sick with fever in winter. All the beds in the clinic’s infusion room were occupied, so they could only sit in chairs.

Meng Qiran had Chen Qingwu lean against his shoulder, his arm around her, occasionally glancing at the remaining amount in the IV bag.

With his other hand holding his phone, he replied to Liao Shuman’s messages, telling her not to worry—he would stay with Qingwu the whole time.

When the injection fluid was half-finished, Chen Qingwu’s fever had subsided.

She opened her eyes somewhat groggily and was about to raise her hand when another hand reached over to press down on the back of her hand, saying in a low voice, “Don’t move.”

She was about to turn her head to look when, hearing this voice, she stopped moving.

It wasn’t him.

Chen Qingwu stared at the needle in the back of her hand, taking a moment to process the current situation before asking, “…What time is it?”

“A little past seven,” Meng Qiran said.

“…I slept for so long.”

“You’re sick and didn’t even think to say something. What if the fever kept not going down?”

“I took fever-reducing medicine.”

Chen Qingwu turned her head to glance at the IV bag. “Is this the only bag? Can I leave after it’s done?”

Meng Qiran nodded.

Meng Qiran hadn’t brought her phone out for her. She figured that after half a day, there must have accumulated some order messages, and perhaps there should also be new messages in the exhibition coordination group…

She felt inexplicably anxious and reached out to adjust the flow rate.

“Too fast and you won’t be able to handle it.” Meng Qiran grasped her wrist. “Don’t rush.”

“…I need to hurry back. There’s a pile of things to do.”

“You’re already sick—rushing won’t help.” Meng Qiran was somewhat irritated. “Your health is what’s important.”

Chen Qingwu sighed.

Meng Qiran pulled her head over. “Sleep a bit more. I’ll wake you the moment it’s finished.”

Chen Qingwu felt weak all over. She closed her eyes and leaned against his shoulder. Her eyelids were heavy, yet she had no sleepiness.

Finally enduring until the medicine was finished, Meng Qiran called the nurse to remove the needle.

The car didn’t drive back to the studio but went to Meng Qiran’s place instead.

Chen Qingwu only realized this when the car stopped.

Meng Qiran said, “Your place is too cold. I’m afraid if you stay there until midnight, you’ll get a fever again. Rest at my place for a bit…”

“Take me back, Qiran.” Chen Qingwu looked at him, her tone and expression both very resolute.

After a moment of stalemate, Meng Qiran said, “Then let’s go to a hotel.”

Chen Qingwu was about to speak when he interrupted, “Even if it were my employee, I couldn’t possibly let them stay alone while sick.”

Chen Qingwu closed her eyes, sighed, and ultimately compromised. “…I didn’t bring my phone out.”

“I’ll take you back to get it first.”

At the best hotel nearby, Meng Qiran booked a room.

After entering, he first turned up the air conditioning temperature, then went to boil water.

Chen Qingwu leaned against the headboard, processing accumulated WeChat messages.

After the water boiled, Meng Qiran mixed it with room temperature water and brought it over, having her take cold medicine.

Afterward, he went to sit on the sofa across from her, his posture as if he intended to watch over her.

Chen Qingwu said, “You should go back, Qiran. You don’t need to stay here the whole time.”

Meng Qiran sat with his legs crossed, back against the sofa, and upon hearing this, merely lifted his eyes slightly.

Chen Qingwu had no choice but to say, “I need to take a shower… It might not be very convenient with you here. After I wash up, I’m going to sleep.”

Only then did Meng Qiran stand up. “I’ll go buy some congee.”

Having sweated so much, taking advantage of the time while Meng Qiran was out, Chen Qingwu took a hot shower and changed into the hotel bathrobe.

Before long, Meng Qiran came to knock on the door.

Chen Qingwu only opened the door halfway, said thank you, and took the takeout bag from his hand. “Thank you, Qiran. You should go back. I should be fine now…”

Meng Qiran caught sight of Chen Qingwu wearing the bathrobe and understood that it really wouldn’t be appropriate for him to go in again, so he said, “Even if you have no appetite, eat a little. If anything comes up, message me anytime.”

“Okay.”

Meng Qiran paused for a moment, then closed the door.

Chen Qingwu slept until nine o’clock the next morning. The fatigue had lessened somewhat, leaving only cold symptoms of coughing and a runny nose.

She sent a message to Meng Qiran, then prepared to check out and leave.

But in just five minutes, Meng Qiran came to knock on the door.

Chen Qingwu was somewhat surprised. “Where did you come from? How did you get here so fast?”

“Two rooms over from yours.”

Chen Qingwu froze. “…You didn’t go back last night.”

“Mm.”

In case she needed something and he couldn’t get to her in time.

Chen Qingwu said “thank you” somewhat awkwardly. Meng Qiran, fearing she would follow up by advising him that this wasn’t necessary, spoke first. “Let’s go.”

Going downstairs to check out, Meng Qiran drove and took her back to the studio.

While in the car, her phone suddenly began vibrating continuously.

In the WeChat group shared by the Chen and Meng families, Liao Shuman had @mentioned Meng Fuyuan.

Liao Shuman: I heard from your mom that you’re not coming back to Nancheng for your birthday today?

Meng Fuyuan: I have things to do and can’t spare the time. I won’t be coming back, Auntie.

Immediately after, Liao Shuman and Chen Suiliang each wished him happy birthday and sent red packets in the group.

Liao Shuman: Then have a good gathering with friends.

Meng Fuyuan didn’t claim the red packets, only replying: Thank you.

Everyone had long grown accustomed to Meng Fuyuan’s consistently lukewarm attitude.

The WeChat group fell silent for a while before Qi Lin sent another message, @mentioning Chen Qingwu and asking: Qingwu, has your cold gotten better?

Chen Qingwu replied: I’m fine now, Auntie.

Qi Lin: Weather changes make it easy to catch cold. Take good care of your health.

Chen Qingwu sent back a smiling emoji.

As if unconsciously, she switched WeChat back to the chat list, looking at that pinned black and white avatar.

She couldn’t deny that she held some expectation after all.

He saw the messages in the group, right? Would he privately message her to ask about her cold?

After waiting several minutes, that avatar never sent any new messages.

Meng Qiran turned his head to glance at the passenger seat.

Chen Qingwu was holding her phone, thinking about something unknown, her expression sorrowful, as if somewhat disappointed.

Returning to the studio, Chen Qingwu didn’t rest much before beginning to prepare packing for the courier to be sent out that afternoon.

Meng Qiran stopped her movements. “You sit and rest. I’ll help you.”

“No need. The items are custom-made. If they break, they’re hard to replace. I’d better do it myself.” As Chen Qingwu spoke, she walked toward the display shelves.

Meng Qiran followed behind her. Seeing her take down a master’s cup from the shelf—the cup’s glaze lustrous yet appearing extremely fragile—he extended his hand then withdrew it. Ultimately, he was still worried that his hands, which usually only dealt with engines and guitars, wouldn’t handle such an artwork well.

Chen Qingwu took out a leather case and embedded the cup into the soft, fitted foam padding, then suddenly turned away and coughed for a while.

Wanting to drink some hot water, she first stopped her movements and walked toward the coffee table.

After picking up the kettle, Meng Qiran reacted, walked over, reached out to take the kettle, and said, “I’ll do it.”

Chen Qingwu said, “Thank you.”

While boiling water, Meng Qiran also helped wash cups.

That black-glazed cup—when he washed it and looked closely, he felt it didn’t seem like Chen Qingwu’s work because it looked too crude.

The cup filled with boiling water was placed by Chen Qingwu’s side. Meng Qiran took out his phone and opened a food delivery app.

At this moment, Chen Qingwu had another coughing fit.

She put down what was in her hands, picked up the cup, and blew lightly on the surface.

White steam drifted toward her cheeks. Her expression with lowered eyes and brows once again reminded Meng Qiran of her childhood. For a period, she had been drinking Chinese medicine, and before drinking, she would always blow on it like this, as if psychologically preparing herself to hold her breath and drink it all in one gulp.

In this moment, Meng Qiran thought secretly that no matter how many times she drew clear boundaries with him, he wouldn’t let go.

The person to take care of her could only be him.

After eating lunch together, Meng Qiran’s studio had matters to attend to in the afternoon, so he left for the time being. Before leaving, he instructed Chen Qingwu to rest well—he would come again in the evening.

Chen Qingwu sent Pei Shao a WeChat message: Is Meng Fuyuan at the company?

Pei Shao: Bad timing—he just left on a business trip this morning. Wait until he comes back to find him.

Chen Qingwu: …I’m not trying to find him.

Chen Qingwu: Can I come over to drop something off?

Chen Qingwu drove to the tech park. Pei Shao came to meet her at the company’s first-floor reception.

Seeing Chen Qingwu holding a leather case, Pei Shao reached out. “Is it heavy? Should I carry it for you?”

“No need, no need. I can hold it myself.”

While walking inside, Chen Qingwu asked, “Where did he go on his business trip?”

“Bavaria.”

“He has to go on a business trip even on his birthday.”

Pei Shao said with a smile, “I’d like to go too, but I really don’t have that capability. He went with General Manager Lu from SE, bringing a team to do inspections at Medical Valley Nuremberg.”

“How many days?”

“At least five days.”

As they spoke, they arrived at Meng Fuyuan’s office.

Pei Shao swiped his card and accompanied her inside.

The office was in black and white tones, extremely minimalist.

Chen Qingwu walked to the desk and carefully set down the leather case.

Just as she was preparing to leave, she suddenly caught sight of a water cup placed next to the mouse on the orderly desktop.

Her heart shook.

She immediately reached out and picked it up.

Pei Shao was startled. “Be careful handling it! Meng Fuyuan treasures this cup. Last time I almost accidentally dropped it, and he didn’t give me a pleasant look for three days.”

A very crude cup, white coarse pottery, with irregular rock patterns on the surface.

Such a cup, so ordinary it might only be worth ten yuan.

The reason she could recognize it at a glance was because she had made it.

She made it in high school.

“…Has Meng Fuyuan ever mentioned what the origin of this cup is?”

Pei Shao thought for a moment. “I think he mentioned once that he rescued it from somewhere.” He suddenly slapped his forehead. “Could it be that I failed to recognize Mount Tai—is this some priceless antique artifact?”

Generally, only antique artifacts warranted the use of the particularly weighty word “rescued.”

But the circumstances at that time, for her, were no less than a collapsing edifice.

It was the summer between sophomore and junior year of high school. Chen Suiliang learned she wanted to give up such good grades to apply for the Academy of Fine Arts ceramics program. When persuasion failed, he flew into a rage.

The things she had made in her spare time at the pottery classroom were all stored in the sideboard.

Chen Suiliang showed no mercy, grabbing them and throwing them to the ground.

All her heart’s blood, piece by piece, smashed to fragments before her eyes.

At the most brutal moment, someone came to knock on the door—it was Meng Fuyuan, who had come at Qi Lin’s request to deliver cosmetics brought back from abroad.

With an outsider visiting, Chen Suiliang temporarily ceased hostilities.

Meng Fuyuan put down the items, exchanged brief pleasantries, and left.

Afterward, Chen Qingwu endured a long lecture.

Even so, she still wasn’t free. Chen Suiliang also made her personally clean up those ceramic shards and throw them outside.

Everything that happened that day, she never thought about again afterward, as if her brain had also sealed away the memory on its own.

How did this cup survive?

The only explanation was that Meng Fuyuan had casually taken it with him at the time.

Perhaps it was just a moment of compassion when he “rescued” this unique and irreplaceable piece.

Chen Qingwu gripped the cup, unable to describe the震動 in her heart.

He said he could no longer do anything for her, but it turned out that in places she didn’t know about, he had done so much more.

His love was like a polar iceberg—what showed was only a corner.

Pei Shao was somewhat at a loss because he saw Chen Qingwu’s expression was dazed, her eyes moist.

He scratched his head and asked carefully, “What’s wrong? Do you like this cup? Then when Meng Fuyuan comes back, say something and ask for it… If others ask, he might not give it, but if you ask, he’ll definitely give it without a second thought.”

Chen Qingwu couldn’t help but laugh. “…Could you please go on the next business trip? Five more days…”

“You’re in a hurry? If you’re in a hurry, just take the cup first.”

“…Don’t you know that taking without asking is stealing?”

“Then there’s no way around it—you can only wait for him.” Pei Shao shrugged. “Don’t worry. The thing won’t grow legs and fly away. Sooner or later, it’s yours.”

Returning to the studio, Chen Qingwu wanted to rest properly for a while, but she couldn’t sit still. A flame burned secretly in her heart, impossible to suppress.

At times like this, she could only temporarily endure through work.

After working busily for a while, perhaps as the cold medicine ingredients began to take effect, she became so sleepy she couldn’t sit anymore, and only then did she go to sleep.

She got up at dusk. Zhao Yingfei sent a message saying she’d heard about her cold and was coming over to check on her.

Less than fifteen minutes after receiving the message, she heard footsteps outside the door.

Thinking it was Zhao Yingfei, she looked toward the entrance, only to find it was a strange man wearing a helmet and carrying a paper bag.

“Are you Miss Chen Qingwu?”

“Yes.”

“Delivering a meal for you. Please sign for it.”

Chen Qingwu was stunned.

She took the paper bag, thanked the delivery person, carried it to the coffee table, and opened it to find exquisite food containers holding pumpkin congee and several light side dishes.

She took out her phone, opened that black and white avatar, typed a line of text, then deleted it.

After hesitating for a long time, she still couldn’t send it.

Before long, footsteps came from the door again. This time it was Zhao Yingfei.

Zhao Yingfei walked in, handed Chen Qingwu the hot milk tea she’d brought, and removed her scarf. “It’s colder in here than outside.”

Chen Qingwu smiled and pushed the heater toward her direction, but she pushed it back, saying she wouldn’t take advantage of a sick person.

Chen Qingwu took chopsticks from the bag and handed them to Zhao Yingfei. “Have you eaten? We can eat together.”

Zhao Yingfei unceremoniously accepted them. “What a sumptuous sick person’s meal.”

She tasted a bite of vegetables and asked, “Which takeout place is this from? It has such a homestyle taste.”

Chen Qingwu looked at the bag and shook her head. “I don’t know. Someone else ordered it.”

“Oh, Meng Fuyuan or Meng Qiran?”

“Probably Meng Fuyuan.”

“Probably?”

“He went abroad.”

“Went abroad but still remembers to worry about you eating while sick—so thoughtful.”

Chen Qingwu didn’t speak.

Not only that—right now they were still in her “consideration period,” and he said he wouldn’t come find her proactively. Having someone else deliver food, strictly speaking, wasn’t that a kind of exception?

Chen Qingwu took out her own set of utensils, served herself some millet pumpkin congee—sweet and warm, very comforting.

She held the bowl in both hands and said softly, “Do you remember—I told you before that in high school when I insisted on applying for the ceramics major, my dad smashed everything I’d made?”

“I remember. What about it?”

“One item survived.” Chen Qingwu lowered her eyes. “…It was rescued by Meng Fuyuan at the time.”

“Isn’t that equivalent to having your computer formatted, but a kind person kept a backup of an important thesis for you?”

Chen Qingwu smiled. “You’re good at analogies.”

“How old were you then?”

Chen Qingwu knew what Zhao Yingfei wanted to ask. “At that time, he didn’t have other intentions—it was probably just mutual sympathy. I never imagined that someone would care about my dream like that… not even out of romantic interest, but purely kindred spirit empathy.”

She thought of when they went to see the ancient porcelain exhibition together, and Meng Fuyuan said “love me, love my dog.”

This was even more precious than “love me, love my dog.”

Zhao Yingfei looked at her. “You’re in trouble.”

“Hm?”

“You only have one path left to walk.”

“…Yes.”

Just at this moment, footsteps came from outside the door again.

It was Meng Qiran, carrying a takeout bag.

Zhao Yingfei looked at the sick person’s meal the two of them were eating on the coffee table and cast Chen Qingwu a meaningful glance.

Meng Qiran’s steps paused slightly. “You’re already eating?”

“Right, sent by Qingwu’s pursuer.” Zhao Yingfei loved watching the excitement.

Meng Qiran laughed once. “Which pursuer?”

“You’d have to ask Qingwu—she has plenty of pursuers.”

Meng Qiran walked over, bent down to clear the coffee table, pushed the food containers on it to the side to make space, and took out the takeout boxes he’d brought. “Better to arrive at the right time than early. Try the chicken soup from this place.”

Zhao Yingfei went to lift the lid of the chicken soup and asked with a smile, “So Lead Singer Meng, do you count as arriving early or arriving at the right time?”

Meng Qiran’s movements paused.

Zhao Yingfei stirred up chaos but never took responsibility for the aftermath. After drinking two mouthfuls of chicken soup, she took her things and left.

The room suddenly became quiet.

Meng Qiran took Chen Qingwu’s bowl, served her soup, and placed it by her side.

Chen Qingwu said, “Thank you.”

Meng Qiran glanced at the food containers on the coffee table. “…That person you mentioned before sent this?”

“Mm.”

“Isn’t he…”

Chen Qingwu looked at him. “Isn’t he what?”

Meng Qiran shook his head. “Nothing. Drink it while it’s hot.”

After eating, the coffee table was cleaned up. Meng Qiran threw the trash outside the door.

The cold wind outside was biting. He stood on the steps and, where no one could see, took a deep breath.

Returning inside, Chen Qingwu was washing her own utensils.

Meng Qiran walked over to help. Chen Qingwu said it wasn’t necessary.

Amid the rushing water, Chen Qingwu’s voice sounded. “Qiran.”

Meng Qiran looked at her.

“If I end up having to hurt you, I’m very sorry.”

“…What do you mean?”

Chen Qingwu shook her head.

Meng Qiran stared at her, his gaze lingering for a long time, an unprecedented anxiety and sense of crisis arising in his heart.

Over the next few days, Chen Qingwu shipped the remaining orders, hung up a notice that the shop would be closed for Spring Festival, and after organizing and cleaning the studio, drove back to Nancheng.

Arriving home, Liao Shuman asked about Chen Qingwu’s physical condition and told her to keep warm and not overwork herself.

Chen Suiliang said, “You still need to have someone by your side. At least when you have a headache or fever, there’s someone to look after you.”

These words were just short of explicitly praising Meng Qiran.

Chen Qingwu said, “You’re right.”

Liao Shuman couldn’t help but scrutinize Chen Qingwu, feeling that today she was unusually docile, not like her usual self who would talk back with hidden barbs. It was almost as if after this illness, she had suddenly had a complete change in temperament.

After dinner, Liao Shuman went to the bathroom. Coming out, she saw Chen Qingwu leaning back against the dining chair, staring at the sideboard in a daze.

Liao Shuman stopped in her tracks. “What are you looking at?”

“Do you remember—in high school I made some ceramics that were displayed here?”

Liao Shuman stared at Chen Qingwu without speaking.

“You remember, right? Because at the time, Dad smashed them all.” Chen Qingwu suddenly turned her head to look at her. “Just like how he smashed the anniversary gift set you bought back then.”

Liao Shuman’s brow furrowed. “…What are you trying to say?”

Chen Qingwu smiled and shook her head. “…Nothing.”

Nothing. None of it mattered anymore.

The next day, the two families had dinner together.

Liao Shuman brought a plate of pre-baked fish and handed it to Qi Lin.

The two fathers exchanged pleasantries with each other.

Fresh seasonal flowers had been placed in the vase, their subtle fragrance filling the room.

On the mantel above the fireplace was a row of photos—full moon photos, one-year photos, family portraits, graduation photos…

Everything was so harmonious.

After sitting down, Chen Suiliang asked, “Fuyuan hasn’t come back yet?”

Qi Lin said with a smile, “He said he can only come back tomorrow.”

“That’s truly a pity.”

“It’s the same if we gather again after the New Year.”

This dinner, the atmosphere seemed no different from previous years. The two families summarized the current year and looked forward to tomorrow.

As if all conflicts could dissolve in the atmosphere of the approaching New Year.

Chen Qingwu smiled throughout.

With an exceptionally tolerant mood.

After dinner ended, the four parents organized a card game, while Meng Qiran disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Chen Qingwu couldn’t stand the stuffiness indoors. She walked to the back courtyard and sat in the shadow of the olive tree, lighting a cigarette.

She raised her head, looking upward.

Directly facing her was the third-floor study window.

This time last year, had Meng Fuyuan been watching her from here?

Chen Qingwu extinguished the cigarette and stood up.

Passing through the living room, she heard Qi Lin’s voice from the tea room asking, “Where did Qingwu go?”

Meng Chengyong said, “Probably went out with Qiran.”

Chen Qingwu quietly went upstairs without alerting anyone.

Reaching the third floor, she stopped at the study door.

Just unconsciously, she reached out to press down on the door handle, but unexpectedly, it wasn’t locked.

The room was completely dark.

She adjusted for a moment, then walked straight in.

She stopped by the window, pulled open the curtain, and looked outside.

Something drifted down onto the glass window.

In the darkness, fine flakes flew about.

It was snowing.

Not knowing how much time had passed, she suddenly heard footsteps outside the door.

Chen Qingwu whirled around.

The door was pushed open, and light from the hallway cut inside.

The person stood backlit, like a shadow, standing coldly in place.

Looking toward the light, several traces of snow had fallen on his shoulders.

Like someone who had traveled through wind and snow, his voice came out cold:

“…Who gave you permission to come in here?”