The fine snow seemed like a velvet cloth, absorbing all sounds. Inside the car cabin there was only the faint humming of the engine and tire noise.

When Chen Qingwu checked the right rearview mirror to confirm road conditions, her gaze swept across Meng Fuyuan’s face, only then discovering that he was sitting with his arms crossed, his body somewhat lazily leaning against the seat, watching her.

It was the same gaze she had when she obtained some porcelain cup she’d been longing for after great effort, holding it in her hands for careful appreciation—that look of wishes fulfilled, satisfied yet treasuring.

Chen Qingwu hadn’t expected that just being watched by him would make her ears burn hot, “…If you have nothing to do, you could help me watch the right rearview mirror.”

Meng Fuyuan laughed softly and actually turned his gaze away.

As the car was about to reach the highway toll station, Chen Qingwu’s phone on the gear shift kept jumping with WeChat notifications.

Meng Fuyuan glanced at it and reminded her: “Qingwu, someone’s messaging you.”

Chen Qingwu was driving and couldn’t be distracted, “Help me see who it’s from.”

She knew it probably wasn’t one of the parents, because earlier in her bedroom, she’d had the foresight to set all four parents’ WeChat accounts to Do Not Disturb.

Meng Fuyuan picked up her phone, “Unlock password?”

“My boyfriend’s birthday.”

Sensing Meng Fuyuan’s fingers pause, she glanced at him and said with a smile: “Is that not okay?”

Meng Fuyuan chuckled softly, “It’s very much okay.”

Meng Fuyuan raised his finger and entered the numbers, “Wrong password?”

“Huh?”

“You have another boyfriend?” Meng Fuyuan looked at her.

Chen Qingwu was a bit confused, just about to tell him to try again, when she heard him laugh aloud and realized she’d been played, “…Meng Fuyuan, you’re really quite annoying.”

“Oh, not calling me Yuan-gege anymore?”

“You don’t have even a bit of an older brother’s demeanor right now.”

Meng Fuyuan raised his eyebrows slightly.

Chen Qingwu’s phone apps were organized by color—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, white, black—one color per folder. At a glance it was neat and orderly, a complete blessing for someone with OCD.

From the green folder, Meng Fuyuan found WeChat ranked first and opened it.

A black-and-white film screenshot avatar, noted as “Meng Fuyuan,” was pinned at the top position.

He couldn’t help but curve his lips.

At his age, to still feel his heart flutter over small things like phone passwords and being pinned at the top of WeChat—wasn’t that excessively unstable of him?

His gaze swept downward. Those several unread messages were from Zhan Yining.

Chen Qingwu told him to just open and read them.

After Meng Fuyuan read them, he frowned slightly.

When Chen Qingwu didn’t hear him speak, she turned her head to glance and asked: “What did she say?”

“Qiran is drinking heavily at a bar and won’t listen to anyone’s advice. She says Qiran keeps calling your name.”

Chen Qingwu eased off the gas slightly and looked at Meng Fuyuan, “…What should we do, should we go check on him?”

Meng Fuyuan said: “You decide.”

Chen Qingwu didn’t speak for a moment, still maintaining a speed of about thirty, slowly moving forward.

The highway toll station entrance was right ahead in the distance.

She sighed, turned on the left turn signal preparing to move into the leftmost lane to turn around, “…Let’s go check on him. Who told us we’re destined to worry about others.”

Meng Qiran was at a bar owned by a friend.

When Chen Qingwu and Meng Fuyuan got out of the car and went in, there was already a pile of bottles lying askew on the glass coffee table.

Zhan Yining was anxiously running in circles. Seeing Chen Qingwu appear was like seeing a savior, “Wuwu, please help persuade him, if Qiran keeps drinking like this something will definitely happen…”

Chen Qingwu patted her arm reassuringly.

Meng Fuyuan stepped over the glass bottles rolling on the floor, walked over and snatched the wine glass from Meng Qiran’s hand, set it down on the coffee table with a thud, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up from the sofa.

Meng Qiran struggled to open his eyes, “…It’s you.”

“It’s me. What? Still planning to throw a punch?”

Meng Qiran grabbed Meng Fuyuan’s wrist and pulled outward, “You… let go of me…” However, his steps were unsteady and his hands had no strength whatsoever.

Chen Qingwu had already checked nearby hotel room availability on her phone and said to Meng Fuyuan: “I’ll book a room, let’s get him over there to rest.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded.

Meng Qiran heard Chen Qingwu’s voice and immediately looked up: “Wuwu…”

He struggled hard, intending to walk toward Chen Qingwu, but nearly stumbled.

Meng Fuyuan immediately lifted him up, turned his arm around his own shoulder to support him, and said coldly: “If you struggle once more, I won’t care about you even if you drink yourself to death.”

Meng Fuyuan brought Meng Qiran out of the private room. Zhan Yining quickly grabbed Meng Qiran’s coat and followed. She followed closely step by step, as if preparing to lend a hand immediately if Meng Qiran fell.

Chen Qingwu watched with some melancholy.

Downstairs, Meng Fuyuan stuffed Meng Qiran into the back seat, “If you dare vomit in my car, you’ll sleep on the street tonight.”

Chen Qingwu remembered that Meng Fuyuan’s car had garbage bags in the glove compartment. She opened it, pulled one out, and handed it to Zhan Yining who had also gotten into the back seat, “Yining, please help watch him. If he needs to vomit, have him vomit into the bag.”

Zhan Yining took it and nodded somewhat dazedly.

The hotel was very close, just five minutes away.

After checking in, they took the elevator upstairs. Chen Qingwu swiped the card to open the door. Meng Fuyuan helped Meng Qiran inside and tossed him onto the bed.

It seemed that even at this point, Meng Fuyuan still couldn’t abandon his brotherly instincts. He pulled off Meng Qiran’s shoes, then pulled open the blanket and covered him. There was bottled water on the bedside table. He unscrewed the cap and placed it within arm’s reach.

Zhan Yining on the side was dumbfounded.

Their group was all quite afraid of Meng Fuyuan. One year on Halloween, everyone went to the Meng house for a party. Past midnight it still hadn’t ended, and they disturbed Meng Fuyuan who was resting upstairs. Meng Fuyuan didn’t embarrass everyone directly, but called Meng Qiran aside and warned him that if he didn’t send these friends home, he would call the police for noise disturbance.

Zhan Yining was right there at the time and saw that Meng Qiran didn’t dare make a sound. And this brother of Meng Qiran’s, with that serious expression, there was no doubt he could actually call the police.

But unexpectedly, Meng Fuyuan would be so attentive when taking care of someone—she herself might not even think of details like unscrewing the bottle cap first.

Meng Fuyuan straightened his clothes and looked at Zhan Yining, nodding slightly, “Qiran has caused you trouble.”

Zhan Yining quickly said: “It’s nothing… we’re all friends, it’s what I should do.”

“He’ll be fine once he sleeps it off. Miss Zhan, you should go home and rest too.”

Zhan Yining nodded.

The three of them checked on Meng Qiran’s condition and were just about to leave when the person on the bed suddenly propped up his upper body, making retching sounds.

Chen Qingwu was closest at this moment and quickly supported Meng Qiran, “Hold on, go vomit in the bathroom!”

Meng Fuyuan came over and took over, helping Meng Qiran up. Zhan Yining immediately pushed open the bathroom door and lifted the toilet lid.

Meng Qiran collapsed to the floor, leaned over the toilet, and immediately vomited.

Chen Qingwu then took the water bottle from the bedside table and walked to the bathroom doorway.

After Meng Qiran finished vomiting, he raised his arm himself and pressed the flush button.

When the water bottle was handed over, he paused slightly and turned his head.

Seeing Chen Qingwu’s face clearly, he felt all the emotions temporarily numbed by alcohol suddenly surge up again, “…Why do you still care whether I live or die, Wuwu.”

Chen Qingwu paused, then suddenly handed the water bottle to Meng Fuyuan, stepped past him, and entered the bathroom.

The toilet and shower area were separated by a pane of glass. Chen Qingwu grabbed the showerhead from the shower stall, turned the water to maximum, and without hesitation poured it over Meng Qiran’s head.

Everyone was shocked.

Meng Fuyuan hadn’t expected that Chen Qingwu could be fierce to this degree. She really gave surprises at every turn.

The water was cold. Pouring in from his collar, Meng Qiran immediately shivered, looked up, and gazed at Chen Qingwu in confusion.

“Are you sober now, Meng Qiran?” Chen Qingwu asked coldly, “Can you please stop being so childish? It’s just a breakup, what’s the big deal? Every day I liked you in the past, I was experiencing heartbreak! If you think the feeling right now is particularly unbearable, then remember it firmly and don’t let down the next person!”

Meng Qiran was stunned.

“You’re already twenty-six years old, not six, not sixteen. I have my own life, Meng Fuyuan will have his own life too. We won’t revolve around you anymore, continuing to clean up after your every whim. I’ve said more than once that from the moment I made my choice, I would never look back. If you’re willing to stay in place feeling sorry for yourself, please go ahead. But if you truly liked me, please from now on learn to respect my decisions and let me pursue my own happiness.”

Chen Qingwu finished in one breath and turned off the showerhead.

Water flowed down from Meng Qiran’s wet hair, making his vision blurry.

Chen Qingwu released her hand. The showerhead fell lightly to the floor. She said in a low voice one final sentence: “…Please take care of yourself and let Meng Fuyuan and me rest easy.”

Meng Qiran looked up at Chen Qingwu standing backlit, that silhouette making him feel that everything had truly ended here.

He raised his hand, instinctively wanting to grab her arm, but it fell listlessly back down halfway.

Chen Qingwu turned and walked out of the bathroom.

Meng Fuyuan spoke: “Now that you’re awake, take a hot shower before sleeping. When you wake up, hurry home and don’t let Mom and Dad worry.”

Meng Qiran said nothing.

After a moment of silence outside, Zhan Yining spoke: “Wuwu, you two go ahead… I’ll wait until he finishes his shower before leaving.”

“Will it trouble you?”

“No… it’s fine.”

Meng Qiran heard the footsteps walking away.

Zhan Yining walked over, wanting to help him up.

A drunk person’s body is heavy. Zhan Yining stepped on water and her feet slipped, nearly falling forward herself.

Meng Qiran immediately braced her shoulder.

Zhan Yining seemed to have reached the edge of emotional collapse as well. She went with the momentum and squatted down, raising her hands to cover her face.

Meng Qiran heard faint sobbing sounds, was stunned for a moment, then raised his hand to lift Zhan Yining’s face, “…Why are you crying?”

Zhan Yining didn’t speak.

“It’s okay now.” Meng Qiran smiled, “Hurry and get up, don’t get your clothes wet too…”

“You need to take a hot shower.”

“Okay.”

“Then I’ll wait outside for you.”

“Okay.”

Zhan Yining seemed uneasy, still looking back repeatedly before closing the bathroom door.

Meng Qiran’s clothes were already soaked through, his whole person as if thrown into a frozen lake, still continuously sinking.

He didn’t move, and in this boundless cold silence, felt as if some part of his life had suddenly grown old.

Walking out the room door into the corridor, Meng Fuyuan extended his arm and caught Chen Qingwu who was walking rapidly.

Only then did Chen Qingwu stop.

Meng Fuyuan gently patted her back, as if reassuring her “it’s okay.” He looked down at her and asked: “It’s very late. Do you want to rest for the night and leave tomorrow morning?”

Chen Qingwu shook her head, smiling with some exhaustion, “Let’s quickly leave this place of trouble.”

So the two returned to the car, silenced all means of contact, and headed straight toward East City.

Halfway through, they stopped at a service area to rest.

The snow had stopped. Along the road, only a thin layer of white was piled on the grass and leaves.

The service area in the early morning had all its shops closed, only the hot water dispenser equipment still dutifully operating.

Chen Qingwu came out of the restroom and didn’t see Meng Fuyuan in the lobby, so she walked directly outside.

Meng Fuyuan was standing in the open space by the entrance, dressed in a black coat, his back silhouette clean and austere.

Seeming to hear footsteps, he turned his head to glance.

Chen Qingwu walked over and he handed over the paper cup in his hand.

The paper cup was half full of hot water. Chen Qingwu cupped it with both hands, lightly breathing on the rising steam.

The cold wind was biting, their breath turning white. The scene before them couldn’t be called particularly beautiful, but it was this harsh cold and silence of the night that suddenly calmed their hearts that had been racing all along.

Chen Qingwu looked up and breathed deeply.

This was the freest day in her life so far.

When they got back in the car, it was Meng Fuyuan’s turn to drive. When they arrived at the apartment, it was already past three in the morning.

Chen Qingwu had never experienced such a long day. It was as if all the calm of the first half of her life had been saved up to create this one day’s ups and downs.

After her spirits relaxed, drowsiness hit hard. When Meng Fuyuan pushed the two suitcases through the door, she was already covering her mouth and yawning repeatedly.

Meng Fuyuan said: “Go wash up and sleep first.”

Chen Qingwu nodded, “Then can you help me take out the things I need from my suitcase?”

Meng Fuyuan laid the suitcase flat and unzipped it.

“The toiletry bag on the left.”

Meng Fuyuan took out the toiletry bag.

“Right side. Pajamas.”

The right side was all clothing, stacked neatly. Meng Fuyuan took out the sweaters, coats and other garments, and at the very bottom layer found Chen Qingwu’s pajamas. It was a white nightgown reaching mid-calf, long-sleeved with a front-buttoning style.

“And underwear.”

Meng Fuyuan’s movements paused.

Looking up, Chen Qingwu was tilting her head slightly watching him, that expression clearly meant to see how he would react.

“Where?” he asked evenly.

“In the bag in the middle compartment.”

Meng Fuyuan unzipped the middle compartment. Inside was a storage bag. He opened it and casually pulled out a pair.

Throughout, his expression remained blank.

He piled all the items together and handed them to Chen Qingwu, only to hear her soft laugh, “Oh, you like black?”

Chen Qingwu took the change of clothes and toiletries, consciously walking toward the guest bathroom.

Meng Fuyuan spoke then, his tone quite calm: “The master bedroom also has a bathroom.”

“Oh.”

Chen Qingwu’s steps halted, she turned and headed toward the master bedroom direction. Equally expressionless.

Leaving the master bedroom door ajar, as Chen Qingwu walked toward the bathroom, she took the opportunity to look around.

The master bedroom space was very large, with a semi-open walk-in closet. The gray glass wardrobe vaguely revealed neatly hung shirts and suit jackets.

Although it was a show unit, the soft furnishings clearly bore personal touches—black, white, gray, and blue as the main colors, very much carrying the temperament of a single man.

And on one bedside table, Chen Qingwu discovered the porcelain plate painting she had given Meng Fuyuan long ago.

What kind of affection would make someone place it by their pillow, where they could see it with every rise and rest?

Chen Qingwu finished bathing and came out of the bathroom carrying the laundry basket.

Unexpectedly, Meng Fuyuan had already entered the bedroom and was tidying up items from the suitcase.

Her steps paused, “Um… the dirty clothes.”

“Just leave them. I’ll take them to the laundry room in a bit.”

“Do you do all the housework yourself?”

“The housekeeper is on holiday for New Year.” Meng Fuyuan glanced at her, “You sleep first. I’ll finish tidying up.”

Chen Qingwu yawned and walked to the bedside, “Which side should I sleep on?”

“Either is fine.”

Chen Qingwu randomly chose the side by the window, pulled back the covers and lay down.

She rested her head on her arm and watched as Meng Fuyuan cleared out one section of the wardrobe and methodically hung up the clothes from her suitcase according to length. Then he hung up his own.

Originally she wanted to wait for Meng Fuyuan to finish showering, but this long day had completely exhausted her energy. Without realizing it, she closed her eyes.

When she woke up, she saw the curtains faintly showing daylight from outside—it seemed the time was already late.

As she reached for her phone, she heard rustling sounds behind her and suddenly realized she was in Meng Fuyuan’s bed.

An arm reached over directly, wrapped around her waist, and pulled her backward.

Meng Fuyuan moved his head close, his chin resting on her shoulder, seemingly lightly inhaling the scent of her hair.

He had a faintly warm fragrance on him, from the body wash—the same as hers.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

“…What time is it?” she asked.

“Don’t know.” Perhaps having just woken, Meng Fuyuan’s voice was somewhat hoarse.

“Tomorrow is New Year’s Day, shouldn’t we today… go out and buy some things.” Chen Qingwu’s voice gradually lowered to inaudibility, because she sensed, pressing against her from behind, a certain presence impossible to ignore, more distinct than when she had held it last night.

Meng Fuyuan must have also noticed that she noticed, because he deliberately pressed against her.

Chen Qingwu’s breathing lightened.

Meng Fuyuan’s arm around her loosened, his palm resting against her waist.

Chen Qingwu’s eyes widened, staring at the dark gray curtains. The buttons of her nightgown were undone by two, and after some tentative hesitation, he cupped her directly.

She thought of childhood, also during New Year’s.

Sometimes making dumplings with Liao Shuman, from kneading the dough to mixing the filling, doing all the steps themselves.

Back then she was fond of playing a little game—taking the kneaded dough and squeezing it entirely into her palm, and when she applied force, some would overflow between her fingers.

It seemed like a natural association.

Meng Fuyuan’s breath brushed against the back of her neck, like boiling steam. Chen Qingwu, still carrying the drowsiness from just waking that hadn’t completely dissipated, plunged headlong into an even more thrilling dizziness and intoxication.

Meng Fuyuan placed a kiss on her earlobe and suddenly stopped all movements.

Chen Qingwu turned her head, looking at him questioningly.

His forehead lowered, as if sighing in frustration, he said in a low voice: “Can’t continue, Qingwu.”

“Why…”

The answer came against her ear: No condoms.

“…” Chen Qingwu laughed helplessly, “Weren’t you always prepared for everything?”

“No matter how prepared I am, I couldn’t prepare for this step.”

“I don’t care…” Chen Qingwu laughed, deliberately saying, “I don’t care, I don’t care…”

She didn’t finish speaking, because Meng Fuyuan suddenly reached downward.

It was a restraining motion.

Chen Qingwu’s breathing immediately caught in her throat, turning into an indistinct low moan.

Last time when Meng Fuyuan first tried pottery at his place, she had examined his hands—they had the quality of jade bone, making one suspect that even holding his hand, it would feel cold.

Now she was certain—the skin of his fingertips was indeed slightly cool.

She became a fully drawn bow, or a filled sail, leaning backward, but didn’t sink to the bottom, instead falling into the crook of his arm.

Unable to escape, how could she have known in advance that this kind of sensation was more than she could bear.

The space was all hazy.

They say when vision is lost, hearing or smell becomes particularly acute through compensation. She believed this, because the sound of water was abnormally distinct, making even her voice become moist.

Her whole person was like drowning in the plum rain season.

Back then sitting by the window, watching the wind shake the leaves, anxiously waiting for a rainstorm to take away all the summer heat.

Chen Qingwu, driven by some unknown motivation, suddenly called out with a somewhat trembling voice: “Yuan-gege…”

Meng Fuyuan’s movements abruptly stopped.

Chen Qingwu laughed softly, bringing her lips close to his ear. She felt she was probably dissatisfied that she was the one falling while Meng Fuyuan had a kind of calm as if conducting a precise experiment. Her voice was very soft, yet enough for him to hear clearly: Worthy of someone who plays with code, your fingers are so nimble, Yuan-gege.

Provoking someone like Meng Fuyuan required some courage, she knew this in advance.

But even knowing this, she hadn’t anticipated that after the movements quickened, she couldn’t last even a short thirty seconds.

That rain suddenly fell.

She was like an unripe fruit on a branch, dropping to the ground with a “plop,” falling into muddy water, defeated beyond recognition.

Her arms wrapped around Meng Fuyuan’s neck, her whole body trembling, not calming for a long while. Meng Fuyuan only embraced her with his arm, but his palm didn’t touch her, afraid of dirtying her clothes.

Meng Fuyuan lowered his head to kiss her sweaty forehead and suddenly said: “I do indeed like black.”

Chen Qingwu’s eyes widened.

Thus, everything that followed proceeded through that layer of black. Her palm was pulled up and pressed beside her ear, Meng Fuyuan bowing his head below her collarbone. He occasionally looked up at her, his eyes containing only deep dark color, and a certain danger that seemed to have been dormant for a long time.

Chen Qingwu sensed his body temperature rising, deep suppressed sounds in his throat.

The one who provokes will only provoke again and again.

“Yuan…”

However, this time only one word came out before the rest was covered by his palm.

But it was enough.

Just in that instant, as Chen Qingwu’s breath sprayed against his palm, his breathing suddenly became rapid, and he bent down to hold her tightly in his arms.

It was white staining black.

The scent in the air carried a slight saltiness. Chen Qingwu’s palm pressed against Meng Fuyuan’s back, feeling his violently heaving, distinct shoulder blades.

“Meng Fuyuan,” Chen Qingwu said with a soft laugh, “I like the way you like me.”

Meng Fuyuan’s response was to hold her even tighter.

Afterward, it took quite a long time to clean up the aftermath before they finally went out.

The moment she walked out the door, Chen Qingwu involuntarily pulled up her scarf, covering half her face.

Meng Fuyuan lowered his head, leaned close to her, raised his eyebrows and said with a smile: “What guilty deed did you do, that you don’t dare face people.”

Chen Qingwu reached out to push his cheek away, “…Don’t look at me for five minutes.”