Because the person I love most enjoys spring

“Zhou Shiyu, have we met before?”

The bedroom was utterly silent, making the woman’s gentle and soft inquiry particularly jarring.

This time Zhou Shiyu finally heard clearly what Sheng Sui was saying. He looked at the worry written all over the face of the person before him, his stuttering thoughts slowly grinding to life.

The tinnitus sounded like someone blowing air in his ear, the frequency synchronized with his violent heartbeat that was about to burst through his chest cavity, following him like a shadow.

His brain, which had been like a perpetual motion machine of excitement at dawn, seemed to have died in the night, like a machine that had been broken for years, leaving only a pool of scrap metal waiting for decay and decomposition after who knows how long.

His memory was deteriorating, only vaguely remembering that she had said on the phone not long ago that she would have to work overtime tonight.

Unable to process information, Zhou Shiyu confirmed that his beloved before him wasn’t a hallucination, released his grip on her cold hand, and answered hoarsely: “…We have met, you probably don’t remember.”

The symptoms were only temporary; in the past, they would pass in a day or two.

Don’t frighten her.

Cold sweat soaked through his shirt on his back. Zhou Shiyu’s body retreated backward, his gaze falling on Sheng Sui kneeling beside his bed, lifting his hand to pull back the covers:

“The floor is cold, come here to me.”

Rustling sounds arose. In the darkness, he was too exhausted to open his eyes. After a few seconds, he felt the bed sink slightly, then the faint scent of camellia flowers drifted to his nose, silently enveloping him.

“…Zhou Shiyu, your body is so cold,” Sheng Sui beside him moved restlessly, raising her palm to press against his forehead, her voice full of worry,

“Are you uncomfortable somewhere? Or is something at work not going well?”

There was nowhere he felt uncomfortable.

There was nothing going wrong at work either.

It was just that the roller-coaster-like emotional fluctuations came without warning—one second he could be talking confidently, the next second he would fall into endless emptiness. Stability could only depend on medication, waiting for the next relapse at an unknown time.

The mental illness called “bipolar disorder” was what Zhou Shiyu first heard about in the summer of his nineteenth year.

Before that, he thought it was just simple depression, or a milder phase of periodic emotional lows.

Until the doctor told him that his bipolar disorder most likely came from that man’s genetics, that the previous depression diagnosis was wrong, and that he needed long-term hospitalization.

In the blink of an eye, ten years had passed.

“…It’s nothing, just a bit tired.”

In the darkness, Zhou Shiyu rested his head against Sheng Sui’s neck, using what little energy he had left to reply:

“Stay a bit away, my body is cold.”

He wanted to ask how she had come here, whether she was tired on the journey, whether she had eaten well today.

He wanted to hear her speak.

He wanted to hold her.

Compared to sadness, his mood was more aptly described as numb and blank. Zhou Shiyu had several times thought about pulling her into his embrace, but because his hands were really too cold, he ultimately gave up.

Don’t frighten her, act normal.

If he really couldn’t become a normal person, then at least try his best to disguise himself as one.

Then a soft, warm body pressed against him.

It was Sheng Sui reaching out to hold him, her embracing posture awkward and clumsy, their height difference making her arms land right across his breathing chest and lungs, as she said softly: “If you’re tired, then sleep for a while.”

Because of the wrong angle and position, both equally slender people’s bones pressed against each other, inevitably causing some discomfort.

Zhou Shiyu didn’t move, and Sheng Sui didn’t move either.

The two maintained this awkward yet intimate posture, their bodies pressed tightly together without any sexual desire.

In the vast bedroom, there was momentary silence.

Zhou Shiyu clearly understood that Sheng Sui had a highly sensitive personality and would have undoubtedly noticed the anomaly by now. Fighting off sleepiness, he quietly waited for her follow-up questions.

But Sheng Sui only raised her hand to gently pat his back, her voice carrying a faint laugh: “The first night I stayed over at your place, this is how you comforted me.”

Zhou Shiyu couldn’t remember the details of that night. Under the covers, he felt the woman’s hem had rolled up. His cold hand hesitated for a few seconds, but worried she might catch cold, he still helped pull it down.

A warm person—even her clothes were warm. His body seemed to instinctively crave this warmth. His hand touched the woman’s slender back and naturally pulled her into his embrace.

Their breathing became indistinguishable from each other. After a long time, Zhou Shiyu heard himself ask hoarsely: “Did you sleep well that night?”

“At first I couldn’t fall asleep, because I had never stayed overnight at a man’s place before.”

Feeling the return embrace, Sheng Sui buried her head in Zhou Shiyu’s chest, her face unconsciously nuzzling against his chest, her eyebrows curved as she said softly:

“But you were so warm, later I unknowingly slept until dawn.”

Zhou Shiyu’s mood wasn’t good.

Just like how she would feel down because of airplane food, everyone had times when they felt sad over small things. Although Sheng Sui felt sorry that Zhou Shiyu wasn’t resting well, she didn’t think his sudden low mood was a big deal.

Since he didn’t want to talk about it, she would just quietly accompany him.

What she thought of as mutual support between spouses was never one person unilaterally giving or accommodating, but rather two imperfect people willing to smooth their rough edges for each other and be considerate of each other’s feelings.

In the past, it was always Zhou Shiyu taking care of her.

The man’s embrace was cooler than usual, but that was okay—as long as one of their hugs was gentle, that was enough.

“Zhou Shiyu, even if you’re cold, don’t push me away,” Sheng Sui held the man tighter, her voice gentle yet firm in refutation:

“My body is very warm, I can give you hugs.”

“…”

The hand on her waist tightened bit by bit. Silently, Sheng Sui had already changed from actively hugging someone to being completely encircled in the man’s arms, their skin pressed tightly together.

For a moment, she even felt that Zhou Shiyu, usually unshakeable, seemed like a drowning person who couldn’t swim in stormy seas—grabbing onto even a piece of driftwood like her, he would hold on desperately, wishing he could embed her into his body.

“…Sheng Sui.”

After a long time passed, a hoarse voice sounded. Sheng Sui thought this was the first time Zhou Shiyu had actively spoken since she entered the room, then felt cool lips touch the corner of her mouth, carrying some caution.

As if worried about startling her, Zhou Shiyu’s thin lips only touched briefly like a dragonfly on water before separating. His sweating forehead pressed against hers, his voice low and hoarse, suppressing too many obscure and incomprehensible emotions:

“…I miss you so much.”

When she woke up again, it was exactly ten o’clock at night.

Feeling someone gently patting her back, Sheng Sui drowsily opened her eyes and instinctively looked up to meet the man’s gaze.

Under the warm yellow light of the bedroom’s overhead lamp, Zhou Shiyu’s face showed obvious fatigue. Even through his glasses, she could feel his dark eyes were dimmer than usual, though fortunately his complexion wasn’t as pale as it had been after staying up late last time.

Seeing her wake up, the man’s fingers brushed away the hair by her face, saying gently: “Did you give yourself your evening injection?”

“…Not yet.”

Sheng Sui had stayed up excitedly until dawn last night, been busy all day, then rushed to the airport after work. After the exhausting journey to the hotel, sleepiness had overwhelmed her the moment she touched the bed.

If Zhou Shiyu hadn’t reminded her, she probably would have slept until morning and hurriedly made up the long-acting insulin injection tomorrow morning.

She touched her nose embarrassedly, feeling the damp heat radiating from the man beside her. Even his usually pale skin showed a rare hint of red, so she casually asked:

“Did you just take a shower?”

“…Mm,” the person whose limbs were no longer cold hugged her again, was silent for a few seconds, then asked again,

“Did you give yourself your evening injection? I’ll get your handbag for you.”

Hadn’t she just answered that? Why was he asking again?

Sheng Sui thought Zhou Shiyu hadn’t heard her clearly just now, so she repeated: “Not yet, I’ll go do it now.”

“Okay.”

Sheng Sui got up and off the bed to find her handbag, took her insulin pen and blood glucose meter into the bathroom, and was startled by the hot, steamy temperature as soon as she pushed the door open.

It had been some time since Zhou Shiyu finished his shower. Just how hot was the water he had used that even after more than ten minutes, the room temperature was still this high?

With this puzzlement, after finishing her injection, Sheng Sui came out of the bathroom to find no one in the bedroom. Walking outside, she discovered Zhou Shiyu sitting at the long dining table, with exquisite porcelain plates filled with various nuts in front of him, as well as a cup of warm milk.

Even for a workaholic, continuous work clearly made his reactions noticeably sluggish. It wasn’t until Sheng Sui walked over and called to him that the person who had been staring at the plate of nuts and milk for a long time turned around.

“Have something to eat to fill your stomach,” Zhou Shiyu pushed the porcelain plate and glass cup in front of Sheng Sui, placing his hands under the table, “an empty stomach can easily cause stomach discomfort.”

It was too late, and Sheng Sui had no appetite for dinner either. She obediently took some nuts and put them in her mouth, suddenly remembering something: “Aren’t you eating?”

Zhou Shiyu was unusually economical with words tonight: “Just ate.”

“…Oh, okay.”

The two rarely fell into face-to-face silence. Sheng Sui was considerate of his bad mood but really couldn’t think of new topics.

As she picked up her cup to drink milk, her phone on the table vibrated—it was a message from Liang Xubai.

The two had exchanged phone numbers before going upstairs that afternoon. Sheng Sui unlocked her screen.

【Liang Xubai: I heard the scenery at Tuotuo Peak in Beijing North is spectacular, and tomorrow there’s a Qingming Festival spring outing activity. Teacher Sheng, bring Zhou Shiyu along!】

After clicking on the scenic photos Liang Xubai sent, Sheng Sui was somewhat tempted, thinking that when mood was low, going out to get some sun would also be beneficial.

“Mr. Liang invited us to go mountain climbing,” she put down her phone and sought Zhou Shiyu’s opinion, “it’s rare to come out like this, do you want to go out and have a look?”

Taking in the woman’s expectant expression completely, Zhou Shiyu listened to the fine buzzing in his ears, looked down at his left hand under the table that was no longer trembling, curved his lips in a smile, and agreed warmly:

“If you want to go, then let’s go.”

After deciding to go out, Sheng Sui sent Liang Xubai a positive reply, simply filled her stomach, then got up to pack, washed up early and went to bed, preparing to rest well for tomorrow’s outing.

During this time, Zhou Shiyu sat silently by the bedside, a work tablet on his lap, maintaining the same posture from beginning to end.

The screen’s cold light reflected on his plain glasses, making it impossible to see the man’s expression behind them.

“Still busy?” Half an hour later, Sheng Sui came out of the bathroom after blow-drying her hair, lifted the covers and lay down to look at him, “Why don’t you rest early?”

As she spoke, she reached up and gently tugged at the man’s sleeve. Her knuckles accidentally touched his prominent wrist bone—the sensation was still ice cold.

Her fingertips instinctively recoiled.

“…”

Zhou Shiyu’s gaze, which had been lingering on the cold white screen, moved down and paused for two seconds on her withdrawn hand, then he put down the tablet, turned off the lights, and lay down on his side.

When he turned on his side to cover her with the blanket, Sheng Sui noticed that Zhou Shiyu was no longer holding her under the covers like he had in the afternoon, but instead was gently patting her back with his hand separated by a layer of the hotel’s thick comforter.

The room was once again dark. She wanted to speak several times but couldn’t think of what to explain.

Probably guessing she was overthinking, after a while in the darkness, Zhou Shiyu’s slightly hoarse, low voice sounded:

“Sleep now, have fun going out tomorrow.”

Hearing this, Sheng Sui obediently closed her eyes: “Good night.”

“Mm, good night.”

“…”

This time Sheng Sui didn’t sleep soundly. In her dreams, she drowsily felt the bed beside her sink several times, as if someone was repeatedly lying down and getting up.

Later she was finally awakened, struggling to open her eyelids to discover there was indeed no one beside her. Instead, rustling sounds came from the adjacent walk-in closet.

The bedside electronic clock showed 1:30 AM. Not quite awake, Sheng Sui looked toward the source of the sound and saw Zhou Shiyu standing at the doorway of the walk-in closet, his back to the bedroom.

The overhead mini spotlight was the only light source. She could only see the man slightly tilting his head back, left palm pressed to his lips, then drinking the water from the glass in his right hand in one gulp.

It was an unmistakably clear motion of taking medication.

She had never seen Zhou Shiyu take medicine after marriage. There wasn’t even a bottle of health supplements to be found at home. Sheng Sui’s mind went blank for a moment.

Was what Zhou Shiyu took medicine or supplements?

Had he just started taking them on this business trip, or had he been taking them all along?

Was taking them while she slept an accidental coincidence, or was he deliberately hiding it because he didn’t want her to know?

As chaotic thoughts occupied her mind, deliberately muffled footsteps approached. Sheng Sui thought Zhou Shiyu was coming back and remained motionless with her eyes tightly closed.

However, the man only walked toward the bathroom, gently closed the door, and soon the sound of running shower water could be heard.

Zhou Shiyu was taking another shower.

Sheng Sui had several impulses to get up and investigate the walk-in closet, but in the end she took a deep breath and restrained herself, thinking that tonight she should still let the man rest well, and tomorrow she would find a time to ask clearly.

Fifteen minutes later, the bathroom door opened again.

She closed her eyes and listened to the quiet footsteps gradually approaching the bedside, the bed surface sinking slightly once more as she had felt in her dreams.

With nervousness about being discovered, Sheng Sui even made her breathing cautiously light. In the darkness before her eyes, she felt Zhou Shiyu lie down beside her once again.

Before the man could embrace her, Sheng Sui clearly felt the damp heat from his body.

Different from the usual reassuring warmth, the heat remaining on Zhou Shiyu’s skin at this moment was caused by scalding hot water during his shower.

Just like when she had been awakened that evening, it wouldn’t last long—even his fingertips would become cold again.

No longer separated by the comforter, Zhou Shiyu this time directly embraced her under the covers, his movements extremely gentle, as if handling priceless collectible treasures.

The man’s chin gently rested against the top of Sheng Sui’s head. Her nose was filled with the clean, bitter woody cold fragrance. Immediately after, she heard Zhou Shiyu say something softly above her head.

Even if decades passed, no matter how many times, whenever Sheng Sui recalled what Zhou Shiyu said in those few words tonight, her heart would still ache for a long time.

But at this moment, she suddenly understood why Zhou Shiyu hadn’t directly embraced her at first, why he had repeatedly gotten out of bed to shower in the middle of the night, and why he insisted on using hot water to scald his body.

Tears suddenly rushed to her eyes.

At a time when no one should have known, Zhou Shiyu had murmured to himself, giving the answer:

“If my body isn’t cold, would it be okay to hold you all the time?”

Scalding water stimulated his dulled senses, warming Zhou Shiyu’s pale skin to a slight flush.

The night passed peacefully without incident, the buzzing in his ears minimal, the bathroom filled with steam.

Zhou Shiyu looked down at his left hand—no longer showing the fingertip trembling caused by medication side effects or the condition itself from yesterday.

The symptoms were subsiding; there shouldn’t be a relapse.

Moving his gaze away from the dozens of scars on his wrist, Zhou Shiyu turned off the shower and picked up a towel from the shelf to dry his body.

His gradually recovering hearing caught faint sounds from outside the door.

Putting on his plain glasses, he wrapped only a bath towel around his waist and went out. As he pushed the door open, he saw Sheng Sui getting out of bed, looking up at the sound.

Their eyes met. As expected, the woman’s gaze first fell on his bare upper body, quickly scanning up and down before hurriedly looking away, her earlobes rapidly flushing a light red.

Sheng Sui cleared her throat: “…Morning.”

“Morning.”

His emotions were still hollow and lacking, but no longer the numb insensitivity of last night. As his senses recovered, his brain began to slowly function.

After their morning greetings, both fell silent for a moment. Zhou Shiyu could see Sheng Sui’s hesitation to speak. Recalling the rustling sounds from the bedroom when he took medicine last night, he casually picked up a bottle of water from the glass table and walked to the walk-in closet.

The walk-in closet wasn’t large. On the first row of horizontal cabinets against the wall by the door sat a handbag.

Feeling the gaze behind him, Zhou Shiyu reached into the innermost layer of the leather bag’s inner compartment, took out a transparent pill organizer with small compartments, and poured five pills of various shapes into his palm.

A few seconds later, Sheng Sui’s hesitant inquiry sounded: “…Are you taking medicine?”

“Supplements,” Zhou Shiyu turned around, calmly looking at the woman approaching, opening his palm to explain each one,

“Vitamin B, Vitamin C, fish oil, calcium-magnesium tablets, and folic acid.”

“You have to take so many supplements,” Sheng Sui sighed and then breathed a long sigh of relief, her tone rising with visible joy,

“How come I’ve never seen you take them before?”

Patiently waiting for her to observe clearly, Zhou Shiyu swallowed the pills with water, thought for a few seconds, and smiled gently: “I take them in the morning, probably when you’re still sleeping.”

“I was worried you were sick. Good thing I was overthinking,” Sheng Sui touched her nose embarrassedly, “Are you feeling better today?”

When the woman looked up at him, her curved eyes sparkled with laughter, and there were still pillow marks on her right cheek. Her just-awakened adorable appearance melted his heart.

Zhou Shiyu could see she genuinely cared about him, raising his hand to gently ruffle her hair: “I’m fine now.”

Hearing the man’s voice was finally no longer hoarse, Sheng Sui let Zhou Shiyu’s large hand mess up her hair.

Having just woken up, she didn’t think much, and after putting down her burden of worry, she naturally hugged him, her voice carrying a nasal tone like she was being coquettish: “Don’t always stay up late anymore, your body can’t handle it.”

“Okay, I’ll listen to you,” seeing she had unconsciously started acting coquettish, Zhou Shiyu’s eyes showed an unconscious trace of tenderness, saying softly,

“It’s just that I probably need to put on clothes first.”

“…”

An hour later, the two went downstairs and saw Liang Xubai sitting on the lounge sofa in the hotel lobby from afar.

The man wore a black beret, his slightly long hair tied in a small ponytail behind his head, dressed in loose pure black clothes and pants, with a camera strap across his shoulder.

Seeing Zhou Shiyu following behind Sheng Sui, Liang Xubai’s peach blossom eyes raised in surprise, slouching in the sofa like he had no bones:

“Oh, Mr. Zhou actually came out.”

Sheng Sui smiled and greeted Liang Xubai, then turned to walk to the front desk to discuss room-related matters.

“The power of love is indeed strong,” Liang Xubai got up and stretched, sauntering over leisurely, “or should I say, my miraculous healing skills and the new medicine I gave you worked well?”

Zhou Shiyu glanced at him coldly, his voice carrying a chill: “Liang Xubai, this is the last time.”

“Don’t use her again.”

“How can treating illness be called using?” Liang Xubai clicked his tongue and took out car keys from his pocket, casually playing with them in his hand, his peach blossom eyes meeting Zhou Shiyu’s dark gaze directly,

“And if I don’t do this, would you come out?”

Seeing Sheng Sui finish her conversation, Liang Xubai dropped the line “You’re really boring” and left Zhou Shiyu, walking toward her with a smile: “I got a sightseeing car, Teacher Sheng, want to call someone to try it together?”

“Then we’ll trouble Mr. Liang.”

Sheng Sui had originally thought that Zhou Shiyu’s friends would all be either wealthy or prestigious, traveling in flashy sports cars if not chauffeur-driven luxury vehicles.

Not like Liang Xubai, who had somehow gotten hold of a three-wheeled convertible cart that let sunlight beat down from all sides and came with all-around wind leakage.

“…”

Five minutes later, watching two men who were both 1.85 meters tall sitting in the narrow front and back rows respectively, Sheng Sui couldn’t help but laugh.

It was fine for Liang Xubai to dominate the front driver’s seat alone, but poor Zhou Shiyu had to squeeze in the back with her, his long legs having nowhere to go, looking exactly like someone who had been kidnapped into the car—the scene was incredibly comical.

Clearing her throat, she reached up and tugged at Zhou Shiyu’s sleeve, saying magnanimously: “You can come closer to my side.”

Sheng Sui looked down, seeing the man’s kneecap pressed against the front seat—it looked painful just watching.

She reached out to help Zhou Shiyu massage it, unable to hide the mischievous glint in her eyes: “Do you need me to help—”

Before she could finish, her waist was suddenly encircled by a strong, powerful arm, the palm warm.

Sheng Sui fell into the embrace unexpectedly, her hands naturally wrapping around the man’s neck, looking down directly into Zhou Shiyu’s dark eyes behind his glasses.

She couldn’t help but freeze, not understanding the current situation.

“No need for help.”

His thin lips parted slightly. Zhou Shiyu didn’t deliberately slow his voice, his tone unlike his usual gentleness, bringing an overwhelming sense of pressure, the mature man’s aura making people unconsciously submit: “Now there’s room like this.”

The low voice accompanied by hot breath rolled past her ear. Sheng Sui felt her ears heat up for a moment, looking away and saying softly: “Put me down, how can we drive like this?”

Liang Xubai in the front seat spoke up timely: “No rush, no rush.”

The man looked down to adjust his camera, then raised the lens to snap a photo of the two with a click: “Call me when you’ve hugged enough, or I can go for a stroll and come back.”

Sheng Sui couldn’t possibly let Zhou Shiyu continue holding her, scrambling down from the man’s lap in a fluster.

Only after the three-wheeled convertible cart started swaying along the road did she dare to tug at Zhou Shiyu’s sleeve, lowering her voice: “Why did you do that again in public?”

Zhou Shiyu looked down, taking in her slightly red cheeks, and humbly asked for guidance: “Mm, what did I do?”

“…”

His righteous feigned ignorance successfully caught Sheng Sui’s attention. The woman’s watery eyes glared at him without any intimidation whatsoever. Finally, unable to think of a retort, she pursed her lips, hummed softly, and turned to look at the scenery outside the car.

Only the unconscious smile at the corners of her lips betrayed Sheng Sui’s good mood at the moment.

Looking down at her radiant smile, Zhou Shiyu suddenly felt that continuing like this might not be bad at all.

…

The holiday with free limited-time tickets was packed with people. The green forests stretched in layers, the roads to the scenic spots flowed continuously with vehicles, and from far below the mountain peak, crowds could be seen surging. Even the shops on both sides of the stone path before climbing the mountain were full of people.

It would take too long to climb all the way up, so the three decided to just enjoy the scenery along the way to the halfway point, then take the cable car directly to the summit.

Before climbing, Liang Xubai agreed to meet at the summit and quickly disappeared. When Sheng Sui was looking for him on the less crowded roadside, Zhou Shiyu beside her suddenly crouched down in front of her.

“Liang Xubai likes to go alone, no need to look for him.”

Sheng Sui looked down to see Zhou Shiyu bending over to tie her loose shoelaces, his voice clear and steady amid the surrounding noise: “There are many people on the mountain, stay close to me.”

“Okay.”

Sheng Sui patiently waited for Zhou Shiyu to finish tying and stand up, then he took out a colorful transparent-wrapped candy from his pocket.

The man’s well-defined hand passed the candy over: “Supplement sugar before exercise to prevent blood sugar from dropping too fast and causing dizziness.”

Sheng Sui recognized it—the same candy she’d seen at the hospital that day: “Ah, this candy you told me about, given by your roommate at the time.”

Unwrapping the packaging, she put the candy in her mouth, feeling the subtle sweetness spread on her tongue, asking vaguely: “Did he get better later?”

“…No,” Zhou Shiyu was silent for a few seconds after hearing this, then raised his hand to ruffle the top of her head,

“But I believe that someday he will get better.”

Sheng Sui nodded in agreement.

Medical technology was developing rapidly. Her Type 1 diabetes, which ten years ago was still called an incurable lifelong disease, now had Vertex’s stem cell therapy almost entering clinical trials. Not to mention the good news about conquering various cancers year by year.

The air at Tuotuo Peak was fresh. When the breeze blew, you could even smell the unique scent of spring in the air.

Slowly walking up the mountain path, looking at the verdant green all around and the sunlight drilling through the gaps in the layered leaves, her mood unconsciously improved.

Taking the cable car at the halfway point, the two naturally held hands and sat in the same row of the compartment, looking at the lush greenery outside through the glass.

Sheng Sui’s right hand was held by Zhou Shiyu and placed in his pocket. Looking out at the new leaves on century-old tree branches, she couldn’t help saying: “Before I was born, my family asked a master to give me a name. They finally used the character ‘Sui’ because it represents the autumn harvest season of grain ears, said to be an auspicious omen.”

“But among all seasons, I like spring the most.”

“I got sick in winter, and that period felt especially difficult,” Sheng Sui turned to look at Zhou Shiyu and the vast blue sky, white clouds, and vibrant green spread behind him, saying softly, “But spring is different—whether it’s newly planted tender shoots or century-old trees after surviving winter, all have a chance for rebirth.”

Spring light would equally cherish all people, thus sowing hope in the world.

“So even knowing you might not want to go out, I still wanted to come with you,” raising her hand to watch light flow through her fingers, Sheng Sui smiled with curved eyebrows:

“Zhou Shiyu, I also hope you can see this spring light.”

Zhou Shiyu quietly watched Sheng Sui as she spoke eloquently.

For today’s spring outing, she had specially applied light makeup and lipstick, her delicate features appearing more three-dimensional, her skin that could be broken by a blow looking even more fair and radiant in the bright spring light.

At this moment, Sheng Sui was bathed in spring light, with golden light spots dancing on her head and shoulders, her smile fresh and bright, making Zhou Shiyu momentarily dazed.

In the narrow enclosed space, he seemed to return to that winter thirteen years ago.

Originally having no connection whatsoever, they had unexpectedly been hospitalized in the same hospital.

At that time, sixteen-year-old Zhou Shiyu was told he had a bronchial cyst in a difficult location requiring open-chest surgery, while Sheng Sui, simultaneously diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, was the subject of hospital gossip because her father had injured someone in a medical dispute.

Being abused by his father was the most familiar thing to Zhou Shiyu since childhood.

Thus, he couldn’t help but pay some attention to the girl who had made the local news, remembering her face, and naturally recognizing Sheng Sui at a glance when he encountered the father and daughter a few days after the medical dispute.

She was only fourteen then, much more frail than now, the blue and white hospital gown loose like a sack on her body. She struggled to push an IV stand in the corridor, yet still smiled obsequiously at the rough middle-aged man beside her, speaking in a soft, sweet voice.

Perhaps seeing his past self in Sheng Sui’s desperate attempts to please, when the man impatiently shouted his refusal and habitually raised his arm to hit her, Zhou Shiyu, who never meddled in others’ affairs, took out his phone to take photos, the shutter sound clearly ringing in the corridor.

At that time, he was also sickly and sat in a wheelchair, but the lawyer sent by Old Master Zhou behind him was quite intimidating. A few words shocked the man, and the commotion quickly alerted other medical staff.

For a while, the adults argued endlessly. Zhou Shiyu found it noisy and wanted to push his wheelchair away, but was stopped by the little girl who had dragged her IV stand and run over in embarrassment, tugging at the corner of his clothes.

To this day, Zhou Shiyu still remembered that day when Sheng Sui handed him the colorful transparent-wrapped candy, her tone and expression.

The girl’s smile during illness was equally innocent and bright. Fourteen-year-old Sheng Sui thanked him with curved eyebrows and solemnly placed the candy in his palm.

She said she couldn’t eat sugar; she said she wanted to give this candy to him.

She said: “Big brother, I hope you get better soon.”

Zhou Shiyu had heard that she had Type 1 diabetes, incurable for life. Those few days when nurses talked about Sheng Sui behind her back, they all sighed that she was still so young but would have to live the rest of her life dependent on injections and medication.

Yet the girl generously blessed him, hoping for his good health.

Zhou Shiyu kept that candy by his bedside without eating it. Occasionally when his peripheral vision caught it, he would momentarily think of that girl who wished him health. He also asked about her condition a few times and learned she had been discharged.

He had a naturally good memory and always remembered her name, remembered her youthful but already graceful bearing, and remembered the pair of shallow but eye-catching dimples at the corners of her lips when she gave him the candy that day.

In contrast, Sheng Sui never remembered his name.

Even later when she hurriedly came to the hospital to give peace amulets from the temple to the medical staff who had helped her, she only came to his room last, about to leave.

At that time he didn’t know that everyone else’s peace amulets had names written on the protective charms, while his alone was blank.

He was just unusually surprised to see Sheng Sui knock and enter. Because she had to go back to school, she hurriedly put down the peace amulet and was about to leave.

They had only met once. Zhou Shiyu could see how uncomfortable Sheng Sui was when alone with him, just stopping by to give thanks.

Not wanting to disturb her, after receiving the peace amulet, he only politely and restrainedly said thank you in a gentle voice.

“Big brother, I hope you get better soon.”

The same words over and over. Zhou Shiyu silently watched Sheng Sui leave the hospital room, then saw her pause at the door as if remembering something.

Finally, Sheng Sui turned around and, before they would begin thirteen years of no dialogue, smiled radiantly and said her last words to him:

“Winter will soon pass. After you’re discharged, be sure to look at the spring light more.”

“…”

For a long time afterward, Zhou Shiyu often thought of that conversation, realizing that Sheng Sui had only said three sentences to him in total, two of which hoped for his good health.

Probably, this was the best blessing she could think of.

“…Zhou Shiyu?”

The familiar gentle female voice beside his ear pulled back his drifting thoughts. Zhou Shiyu came back to himself and met Sheng Sui’s inquiring gaze, hearing her curiously ask again: “What about you? What season do you like most?”

Perhaps because he had never truly left her side, Zhou Shiyu looked deeply at the woman, always feeling she was little different from thirteen years ago, saying warmly:

“I like spring the most.”

She even smiled the same way as back then, light dancing in her eyes, the dimples at the corners of her lips impossible to look away from, her tone slightly rising when she spoke: “You also like spring? Why?”

Knowing she disliked having love constantly on one’s lips, Zhou Shiyu usually deliberately avoided related words, comforting himself that continuing in this respectful manner like now was already very good.

Perhaps because he was showing signs of an episode now, his malfunctioning brain losing rationality, or perhaps because some words had been hidden in his heart for too long—there was always a day when paper couldn’t contain fire.

“No particular reason,” Zhou Shiyu looked at her with just a slight smile, then raised his eyes to look at the endless bright spring light outside the cable car compartment, his thin lips parting lightly,

“Because the person I love most enjoys spring.”