In the end, with unanimous agreement from all six parties, the rooms were assigned with impressive speed.
Ning Sui’s luggage was picked up by Xie Yichen alongside his own. He left one hand free and took hers with it. When they walked into the king room suite, her eyes wandered reflexively around the space.
— At least the three suites were on different floors. She couldn’t have handled running into Hu Ke’er or Zhang Yuge’s knowing faces the moment she stepped out the door the next morning.
Ning Sui would admit it — her courage in certain respects was a bit lacking.
There had been precedent for the two of them occupying a small space together — but that time there’d been no bed involved. This was an entirely different matter: a place that was, unambiguously, for sleeping.
It was midday. The curtains were open, and sunlight poured in brilliantly. From where they were staying, you could see the ski slopes in the distance, busy and alive with people.
Ning Sui licked her lips and reached toward the luggage Xie Yichen was holding: “I need to get something.”
Xie Yichen glanced down at her, his dark eyes unreadable, but said nothing. He lifted her suitcase onto the luggage rack by the wall.
What she actually needed was a thinner base-layer top — but it seemed to be packed together with her underwear inside a sealed opaque bag.
Ning Sui quietly looked at him sideways. Before she could say anything, Xie Yichen had already turned and walked toward the window, tilting his chin toward the table: “Want me to wash you a couple of strawberries?”
“…Sure.” Her lashes fluttered softly.
The sound of running water rose from the bathroom. Ning Sui, relieved, moved quickly and retrieved her clothes.
She sealed the bag back up, tidied the small bag she’d packed for the slopes, and then heard the water in the bathroom pause, followed by a long, drawn-out voice from inside: “Can I come out now?”
Ning Sui came back to herself and replied: “Yeah.”
A moment later, Xie Yichen came out carrying a small plate. Ning Sui looked it over — with the room being spacious enough, he’d put together an arrangement that was rather ceremoniously decorative.
Green grapes and kiwi fruit were grouped together on one side; sugarcane on another; and in the center, with apparent leisure, he had arranged strawberries and blueberries into the shape of a face. The strawberries were the blush marks on the cheeks; the blueberries formed the eyes and mouth.
He said, his tone lightly playful: “I sorted them for you. Everything green is at the bottom — the soft green things on the left, the hard green things on the right.”
Ning Sui: “…”
The view from the window was beautiful. The ski slopes looked lively with many people out. Xie Yichen settled onto a nearby padded stool, legs loosely apart, looking as unhurried as always.
Ning Sui washed her hands, walked over with perfectly composed composure, and plucked two grapes to put in her mouth.
A clean sweetness bloomed on her tongue. She couldn’t help herself: “…Xie Yichen.”
Xie Yichen caught her wrist and pulled her easily into the space between his legs, tilting his head up: “Mm?”
That impossibly clean-featured face was suddenly very close, and Ning Sui’s heart skipped: “Did driving for so long wear you out?”
Xie Yichen’s smile spread slowly: “Not really. Just a bit hungry.”
Ning Sui had just reached over and taken a strawberry from the plate. She paused for a moment, then tentatively held it out to feed it to him.
Xie Yichen took it from her hand, chewed once or twice, then said with lazy ease: “Hmm, this strawberry doesn’t really taste like strawberry.”
Ning Sui tilted her head in genuine surprise: “I thought it tasted all right just now?”
He smiled, unabashed: “Come here and kiss me then. I’ll compare.”
“…”
Ning Sui quietly swallowed the reply that had been forming.
Her phone rang at that moment — Hu Ke’er, calling to ask whether they could meet in the lobby in five minutes for everyone to head out to lunch together.
When Xie Yichen walked out the door, he took her hand the same as always. He held onto the room key cards and carried her bag, and she became a cheerfully unrepentant passenger who contributed nothing. Essentially functioning as a hands-free accessory.
By the time they reached the lobby, the others were coming down one by one. Hu Ke’er had been sitting on the sofa talking with Cui Xian and, catching sight of their interlaced fingers, let her eyes carry a distinct weight of significance.
But she gave Ning Sui face and didn’t say a word.
All six found a restaurant near the ski resort for lunch, then went to rent equipment and gear, with the rental shop also handling snow suits. Xie Yichen had his own snowboarding jacket; Ning Sui had also bought a set before the trip. They each headed off to the changing rooms to get changed, then came out to regroup.
This was Ning Sui’s first time skiing. She hadn’t known snow boots would be this solid and heavy, and she clunked her way through each step as though her feet were encased in brick. Worried about the cold, she’d layered one too many thin sweaters underneath, so she left one behind in the storage locker.
The jacket she’d bought was a mint green ski coat — fresh and lively looking. When she came out, she found Xie Yichen had already collected her goggles and knee pads and the other small items for her.
He stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, holding a black helmet — the one he’d gotten for her was pink.
Ning Sui tried to put it on herself, and predictably struggled for a while before it ended up tilted awkwardly to one side. Xie Yichen watched with quiet amusement, then naturally stepped forward, reached out, straightened it in a few swift moves, and adjusted the strap length with methodical care before buckling it securely.
A few strands of her hair had come loose on either side of her face. As he tucked them back, his fingers brushed lightly across her earlobe without meaning to.
A soft tingle ran through her. Ning Sui instinctively looked up at him.
His snow jacket was a muted dusty blue — worn loosely, yet it sat with a clean, upright ease on his frame. Dark hair fell naturally onto his forehead, making his features look even more sharply defined.
Xie Yichen was looking down at her with a raised eyebrow. Ning Sui’s gaze dropped slightly — and landed directly at the level of his mildly prominent throat.
The air around them was full of noise; it was holiday season, and the crowd was enormous. Some wayward impulse stirred in Ning Sui without explanation.
Hu Ke’er and the others were just to the side, heads bent over lacing up their boots.
— Just one quick kiss right now would be fine, wouldn’t it?
That thought had barely formed when she saw the face in front of her go sharp with mischief, and then he tipped his head and pressed a deliberate, solid kiss to her cheek.
“…”
Lin Shuyu was the slowest, still fussing with his gear. When he finally made his way over, he found Xie Yichen crouching on one knee, patiently fastening the small green turtle-shaped knee pad to Ning Sui’s leg with focused care. The girl’s head was bowed slightly, her flushed face half-hidden in the soft collar of her jacket, expression unreadable.
And on the bench closer to him, Zhang Yuge, Hu Ke’er, and Cui Xian sat with hands raised to their lips, exchanging silent looks with their eyebrows and eyes, occasionally producing something that sounded suspiciously like quiet “tsk” noises — yet saying nothing at all.
Lin Shuyu, entirely confused: “You three — what are you doing? Some kind of secret signal?”
Hu Ke’er smiled serenely: “We’re practicing beat-boxing.”
“…”
—
Xie Yichen had a foundation in snowboarding; he’d gone out with Xie Zhenlin before and was at the level where he could handle advanced runs.
He spent the first two runs with Ning Sui on the beginner slope. She was a fast learner and had the braking technique down quickly.
The others had scattered off on their own by then, so the two of them moved together to the intermediate slope.
The intermediate run was visibly steeper than the beginner’s. Xie Yichen boarded the lift first and went up to show her what it looked like.
Ning Sui waited at the base of the slope, watching him as far as her sight would carry.
Xie Yichen put on his silver goggles and settled steadily onto the board. His center of gravity tipped naturally forward — and in what felt like a single breath, he was gone, shooting down the slope, a cold and unrestrained gust of wind sweeping past in his wake.
She hadn’t been able to put it into words, but there was something about everything on her list of things to try that made her respond to it with a bone-deep sense of curiosity.
Ning Sui’s breathing went still without her noticing. Her gaze tracked his form without breaking.
There were several moments where it looked like he was heading straight for the edge — and then he’d suddenly cut into a sharp Z-shaped turn, veering back into the center of the run, gaining speed again, clearly at ease.
It was mid-afternoon. The sun hung high and bright, and the snow below caught its light and threw it back in a wide, blazing brilliance.
Xie Yichen controlled his pace with complete fluency — turning, spinning, jumping, launching himself down the slope at full speed, letting the edge of the board cut a clean arc of flying white powder beneath him as the finish line came steadily closer.
He was coming directly toward her.
The velocity was enough to whip up a howling gust, and Ning Sui’s eyes went wide. She had no time to react at all. Xie Yichen pressed the board edge in a sharp, precise movement and stopped clean, right in front of her.
A shower of glittering snow burst into the air all around them.
The kind of energy that belonged entirely to youth — and it was genuinely the most stunning thing she’d ever seen.
Xie Yichen pulled off his goggles, unstrapped the board and tucked it under one arm, then walked toward her with easy, unhurried strides. He looked so fully alive — radiating a kind of heat and momentum that outshone everyone around him.
The air was clean and cold against her face. His chest was still rising and falling lightly, but his sharp dark eyes were brighter than the snow.
He stopped in front of her. Eyebrow arched, he looked down at her with a grin: “So? Feel like trying it?”
Ning Sui stared at him, unblinking. That invitation made her feel a warmth spreading all the way through.
She nodded, with complete conviction: “Yes.”
……
Even that evening, sitting in the bar with the others, Ning Sui’s mind kept drifting back to replay that scene on an endless loop.
She couldn’t quite find the words to describe the feeling it had left her with.
But she knew it was real — the depth of it.
She loved the way the wind ripped across her cheeks. She loved the feeling of her body going light as she launched off the high slope.
She loved the brilliant afternoon sunlight dancing across both their eyes, in the moment they had looked at each other.
Xia Fanghui had always kept a close watch on her. When Ning Sui was in middle school, acquaintances who didn’t know her well enough often assumed she was the obedient, well-behaved type. But they were wrong. Ning Sui simply kept her stronger convictions quiet, held close.
She had always believed that life was meant to be lived through experience.
The outside world was already full of constraints. If you wanted a life that was vivid and real, you couldn’t be the one to limit yourself as well.
Hu Ke’er had a rough day — an impressive variety of falls, and the snow boots had been so heavy that by the time she walked back to the hotel her back and hips were aching. She absolutely had to drag Ning Sui and Cui Xian along to the massage service.
So the boys stayed behind in the bar to talk. The three girls headed first to the hotel spa.
It was a five-star hotel, and the food, drinks, and amenities were high quality. You could even order drinks in the spa room. Hu Ke’er waved her hand in generous style, ordering each of them six shots.
Soaking in a rose-infused bath, sipping light fruit drinks — Hu Ke’er lay back in the wooden soaking tub, blissfully inert.
The warm steam drifted lazily upward. Ning Sui had no desire to move or speak either. The alcohol was fragrant and heady, and the peach-flavored drink she’d picked was sweet and pleasant — before she knew it, she’d had a few more glasses than intended.
The masseuses had skilled hands. Every sore spot was attended to, and the exhaustion dissolved out of her muscles one layer at a time.
When it was finally over, the masseuses tactfully stepped outside and gave them ten minutes to rest. Ning Sui wrapped herself in a towel and sat up, turning away from the other two still lying down, and started to change into a clean bathrobe.
The spa room was dimly lit, the shapes only softly visible — her silhouette was long-limbed and fine, legs slender and pale, waist narrow enough to be circled in two hands, but the rest of her filling out exactly as it should be.
Cui Xian let out a low exhale from nearby: “Sui, your body is incredible. And your skin is so fair!”
The steam had left Ning Sui’s face with a faint flush. Her dark hair fell in smooth lines over her shoulders, and in the mirror her hazy, beautiful eyes were faintly veiled in warmth.
She had also gotten a full-body oil massage just now, so she smelled faintly sweet.
Hu Ke’er sat up too, eyeing her with approval: “And now you know why we call her Coconut.”
Back in high school, the girls had been very free with each other — grabbing and teasing each other, chest jokes and all. Hu Ke’er had taken her share of liberties with Ning Sui, taken two generous handfuls.
— And it had to be said. It really was extraordinarily soft.
Hu Ke’er licked her lips and called over to her in a sly, drawling tone: “Coconut Princess.”
“…”
Ning Sui: “What?”
Hu Ke’er lowered her voice: “Don’t worry — if Auntie Xia calls tonight to do a bed check, I’ll tell her you’re sleeping right here with me.”
Ning Sui’s fingertips curled. She held still for a moment, then answered in a tone that she worked to keep perfectly ordinary.
Before she could respond further, she heard Hu Ke’er pause — and then add, in a voice laden with implication:
“Also — if you can’t get up tomorrow morning, that’s perfectly fine too. The four of us can go find something to do on our own.”
“…”
—
It was just past eleven when she got back to the room.
And there it was again — that white, pristine, very large bed. The impact hit her fresh.
Ning Sui was carrying one of the hotel’s cloth tote bags containing the clothes she’d worn during the day. She herself was in the hotel bathrobe with her down coat thrown over it.
The sound of water running came from the bathroom. Ning Sui’s steps slowed, and she noticed bags neatly arranged on the side of the luggage rack — Xie Yichen was already back.
To be honest, the fruit wine had had some alcohol content, and she was slightly tipsy right now — the fuzzy, light-headed kind where the mind was still clear, but the colors around her seemed slightly richer, slightly more saturated than usual.
Ning Sui set down her things and sat at the edge of the bed, a little at a loss, for a few minutes. Then she remembered to change into her pajamas.
It was a cotton floral short-sleeve sleep dress with a vertical row of small buttons down the front, hemline reaching just below the knee.
She’d already brushed her teeth in the spa. Listening to the rush of water from behind the bathroom door, Ning Sui suddenly felt a distinct dryness in her throat. She boiled a kettle, mixed in half a glass of mineral water, and drank it.
With all of that done, she had nothing else to do.
Ning Sui sat back down at the edge of the bed, and half-pulled back the covers, sliding partway in and propping herself up against the pillows.
Her gaze drifted without meaning to toward the bedside table. Something stirred in her chest. Like a thief, she sat up cautiously and pulled open the nightstand drawer —
Nothing there.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Hu Ke’er.
Paopao Ke: 【Coconut Princess~】
SuiSuiSui: 【…?】
Paopao Ke: 【I tucked something good in your small crossbody bag~~ 】
Paopao Ke: 【Check it out 【grin】】
“?”
The bag was at the foot of the bed. Ning Sui grabbed it and reached inside — and her hand closed around something large and flat and hard.
“…”
She pulled it out. The familiar brand name and the oversized logo on the packaging nearly blinded her on the spot.
“………….”
Ning Sui bit her lip. Her heart hammered, embarrassingly loud, in her chest.
Paopao Ke was still sending messages: 【See it?~】
Paopao Ke: 【Five-star hotels don’t stock these, you know~ But~ a best friend who doesn’t equip her best friend is no best friend at all!】
Paopao Ke: 【Large size, ultra-thin, with all kinds of options inside~~~ 】
As much as Ning Sui hated to admit it.
…She had genuinely never had any opportunity to come into contact with such things before.
She stared at the box, the tips of her ears going pink. She held still for quite a while, steeling herself — then picked it up and brought it close to inspect.
Lasting performance.
“…”
Ning Sui caught the line of smaller print below, and the box slipped from her fingers and landed on the bed with a quiet thud.
18-count. Triple-pack variety.
“???”
Why were there this many?
This wasn’t what she’d heard it was like!
She was still sitting there, too stunned to process, when the bathroom door swung open. Xie Yichen walked out in an extremely loose white t-shirt and gray knee-length shorts, fresh from his shower — the damp hair at his temples soft and scattered, his whole bearing easy and unhurried.
Their eyes met. Ning Sui’s heart lurched with a jolt. On pure reflex she shoved the box behind her and pushed it under the pillow.
All Xie Yichen saw was Ning Sui sitting on the bed — half her body curled under the blanket, one slender pale arm visible on the outside — making an abrupt backward motion.
His gaze deepened slightly. His voice came out low: “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.” Ning Sui said, her voice smaller than she intended. Then, after a few seconds, with earnest conviction: “I’m practicing my snowboarding technique.”
“…”
As she shifted, the covers slipped softly from her shoulder — unguarded, bare — exposing her neck and collarbones with quiet, unintentional elegance.
Xie Yichen’s brow drew down. He studied her with an indecipherable expression for a brief moment, then walked in her direction. “Didn’t practice enough today?”
His tone was half a smile, unhurried. Ning Sui instinctively pressed herself back toward the headboard, looking up at him, her pulse skipping a beat: “Ah.”
But Xie Yichen said nothing more. Something unreadable moved in the depths of his dark eyes. He drew close, still watching her steadily, until he reached the edge of the bed and sat down, both hands braced lightly on either side of her, head tilting down toward her. He let out a quiet, low sound.
“Ning Coconut. Could you be just a little more self-aware.”
Ning Sui’s mind was running a bit slow from the wine: “What?”
Xie Yichen fixed her with a direct look: “Calculate how long it’s been since you kissed me.”
From early January after their anniversary to now — it really had been most of a month. But —
She swallowed: “Today I already…”
“That was me kissing you. Doesn’t count.”
“…”
Ning Sui kept her eyes locked on his face, so close now — those cool, composed eyes with their clean-cut lines, the sharp rise of his nose, the soft color of his lips.
Fine dark hair fell across his forehead, and the lingering warmth of the shower still clung to the air between them, making his eyes look deeper and darker than usual, almost dangerously so.
She felt herself drawn forward as if pulled, and pressed a light kiss to the underside of his jaw.
Xie Yichen looked down at her without moving. Ning Sui licked her lip, brought her arms up around his neck, and brushed her lips softly over his — just a touch, and then she started to pull back.
But the air between them was wound too tight. Just as she was drawing away, he was already pressing forward — knee to the mattress, leaning over her, cupping her face and kissing her back properly.
His tongue parted her lips without hesitation and swept inside. The kiss was deep and unhurried, and within moments he had her pressed entirely against the edge of the bed.
Ning Sui’s back sank softly into the mattress. Xie Yichen pressed one hand over hers, their fingers interlacing, and kept his head low, kissing her carefully and close. The bright ceiling light shone overhead.
Ning Sui closed her eyes. She said, a little breathless: “…too bright.”
Xie Yichen, still kissing her, reached out and found the switch. In one moment the overhead light went dark, leaving only the dim glow of the bedside lamp.
The curtains were drawn completely shut. It was the only light left in the room, and the atmosphere shifted at once into something overwhelmingly dim.
The air felt suddenly very quiet. Quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Ning Sui’s shoulder gave a small, involuntary shiver.
He felt that flinch. His throat moved in a swallow. His arms stayed where they were, caging her in place, as he tilted his head and continued — following the softness of her cheek, pressing kiss after kiss downward, his breathing heavier than before.
Ning Sui thought he was really quite terrible. She could feel that burning, unhurried breath lingering against the sensitive skin near her ear, and it left her almost unable to move.
Maybe the light going off had been a mistake. Brighter would be better. Ning Sui was thinking this in a vague, half-formed way, needing something to anchor herself to — and without meaning to, she pulled him closer and held tight around his waist: “Xie Yichen…”
She always liked calling him by his full name like that.
She liked his name.
“Mm?”
He always answered like that too — but now, low and rough against her ear, it fell like something real, settling somewhere deep.
Ning Sui’s fine dark hair spread out beneath her, scattered soft across the pillow. The cotton floral dress shifted at the collar; the cool air from the air conditioning drifted in, faint and intermittent, and made her instinctively want to draw inward.
“It’s… a little dark.”
“…”
One moment she wanted the light off. Now she wanted it back on.
The princess was very high-maintenance.
Xie Yichen huffed softly, then reached over with one hand to turn the bedside lamp dial — adjusting it brighter — and then, without discussion, pulled her deeper into his arms.
His hands had defined knuckles, his forearms pale and lean and firm. He pressed her close, brought his head down, and she bit her lip, fingers threading up and into the dark of his hair, holding on. The wine’s delayed effect seemed to arrive at exactly this moment, and she felt warm all through — an unsteady, feverish kind of warmth.
The white t-shirt over his frame. Those sharp, handsome features burning into her hazy field of vision.
Ning Sui’s eyes were half-open, and it felt like all she could see was him. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. She let herself sink and fall into the kiss, into the feeling, and Xie Yichen’s presence was too encompassing, too warm — burning like sunlight that refused to go out.
The soft amber glow of the bedside lamp washed down over them. The cotton fabric shifted, grew loose without intention — and all at once, both of them went still.
In that light, Xie Yichen saw a scar. It wasn’t long — half a curve, delicate — running along the edge, its color slightly deeper than the surrounding skin.
A cold quiet settled in his chest. Ning Sui came back to herself quickly. She moved her slender white arm across, trying to cover it, looking away with something close to embarrassment.
She could feel her whole body go tense in an instant. Xie Yichen’s chest was still rising and falling. He held the moment, eyes darkening, and then let his gaze follow hers.
His voice came out quiet and low: “What happened?”
The origin of this scar was something Ning Sui found difficult to explain cleanly.
It had been during her third year of high school. A physical exam revealed a small nodule in her chest. The doctor said based on experience it was almost certainly benign — probably tissue blocked from all the late nights — and recommended a minimally invasive procedure to remove it. Simple enough.
But Xia Fanghui’s reaction had been immediate panic. First she blamed Ning Sui for her lifestyle. Then she told the doctor she wanted an open procedure, not minimally invasive — she was afraid the needle used in minimally invasive surgery might rupture the nodule, and if it turned out to be malignant, there was a risk of spreading. She couldn’t bear even that fraction of a chance.
Ning Sui had keloid-prone skin and had pushed back. She didn’t want surgery — she was worried about scarring, especially somewhere so private, and what girl wouldn’t want to protect that? But Xia Fanghui’s position was absolute and non-negotiable. In the end, the wound healed poorly and took a very long time to recover. And just as she’d feared, the scar remained.
Ning Sui had always thought of it as something ugly. Every time she bathed she’d see it — a reminder of this small imperfection on her body. It was slightly raised compared to the skin around it, a different color, and it had always made her feel too self-conscious to look at herself directly in that spot.
Just now, in that deeply absorbed moment, she had almost forgotten all of it.
Ning Sui turned her face to the side, burying her cheek in the pillow, pulling herself further into the covers in something close to mortification.
“It’s… a scar from surgery. I had a nodule in high school. The doctor recommended a minimally invasive procedure, but my mom was worried about the risks and insisted on open surgery.”
The silence was complete except for the steady, quiet sound of his breathing above her.
Ning Sui blinked, eyes slightly damp. She waited for him to say something, and the longer the silence stretched, the tighter the knot in her chest became.
The bridge of her nose felt the tell-tale sting of tears about to form. Her voice came out thin and slightly unsteady: “It’s really ugly, isn’t it…”
“No.” Xie Yichen spoke at last. “It’s not ugly at all. It’s beautiful.”
Did it really take that long to answer?
Ning Sui’s eyes went wide — and somehow that made the feeling worse, not better. “You’re lying…”
The words broke off and died in her throat. She went completely still.
She felt something warm and gentle settle over her heart.
— Xie Yichen had lowered his head, and pressed a careful, quiet kiss to her scar.
“No. It’s beautiful. It really is beautiful, sweetheart.”
His voice was low and slightly rough: “I’m thinking about how much it must have hurt.”