The night was deep and silent, when all truths become easier to hear. All sincere hearts can also be seen.

Shang Zhitao wept alone under the covers. Outside, heavy snow weighed down withered branches—another winter had come. She wiped away her tears, but they flowed again. She thought she had cried less in recent years, yet she had shed tears in front of Luan Nian several times in succession.

Luan Nian’s words had poured forcefully into her ears and filled her heart. She finally admitted that during those years, they had truly loved each other. But they were both too damaged then—one hiding in a shell of humility, the other wearing hard armor.

When she first returned to Ice City, everything was out of control. She didn’t know how long it took to get everything back on track. But Luan Nian’s words had broken the balance she had painstakingly established. Luan Nian was always like this—whenever he appeared, he would force you to break something.

She became thirsty in the night and went out to boil water. The kettle made a sound, and she heard the door of the second bedroom—Luan Nian wasn’t sleeping either.

They looked at each other in the dim night light, and Shang Zhitao finally averted her gaze.

She didn’t even know how it all happened.

It seemed she had only blinked once before Luan Nian was in front of her, trapping her between the stove and himself, kissing her.

His tongue burned across her skin, his teeth bit her neck, asking hoarsely: “Does it hurt?”

“A little.” Shang Zhitao turned her head to seek his lips, trying to escape the immense waves of desire his lips and tongue were causing her.

“Bear it,” Luan Nian told her, his tongue tracing the skin behind her ear. He picked her up in one motion and carried her to her bedroom, throwing her onto the bed. The mattress sank and rebounded, and Luan Nian was already pressing down on her.

Shang Zhitao heard his heavy breathing, and her body suddenly tensed. In the darkness, she looked into the depths of his eyes, where a fire burned like that of a wild beast.

“Where are your condoms, Shang Zhitao?” Luan Nian asked her.

“I don’t have any.”

…”Fuck!”

Luan Nian cursed, and Shang Zhitao’s body, rising and falling with her breathing, pressed tightly against him.

Shang Zhitao felt empty inside.

When alone, she didn’t feel anything wrong. Sometimes she was so busy that once she fell into bed, she would immediately fall asleep. On difficult nights, she would get up and go running.

But today, Luan Nian had teased her, leaving her in an uncomfortable state. Her eyes welled up with tears, sorrowful and aggrieved.

Seeing this, Luan Nian’s heart tightened. Unusually, he let down his guard even in bed, pressing against her lips: “Is it hard to stop now?”

Shang Zhitao didn’t speak, her tongue touching his lips, unclear whether she wanted him to end it or continue.

Luan Nian suddenly smiled, biting her nose tip, then winding his way down along her lip line and neck line. His stubble brushed against Shang Zhitao’s skin, creating a rough, painful sensation.

Shang Zhitao let out a whimper, her head tilting back slightly, her hands threading through his hair.

The sound of Luan Nian swallowing cut through the silent night. Shang Zhitao couldn’t open her eyes for a long time, feeling that her body didn’t belong to herself anymore. She had become a plaything in Luan Nian’s hands, a sweet candy in his mouth. The plaything was polished until it gleamed, the candy melted in his mouth, producing saliva—it was simply too good.

When Luan Nian left her room, he was somewhat disheveled. She had asked if he wanted to stay and sleep, but his tone wasn’t pleasant: “Would we even sleep?” Without protection, holding her without being able to do anything would be like torturing a person’s life.

They each digested their remaining emotions, also giving each other space without further disturbance, enduring the night.

The next morning when they opened their eyes, both were exhausted. When they met in the living room, Luan Nian pinched her face and kissed her forehead. Shang Zhitao moved her head back, and heard him threaten her: “Try to dodge again and see what happens.”

Shang Zhitao truly stood still, letting him kiss her forehead, then her nose tip, and finally touch her lips: “Osmanthus milk? Egg roll? Grilled steak?”

“Any is fine. What are you doing today?”

“I need to catch the noon flight. Several directors arrived in Beijing last night, and there’s a dinner tonight.”

Shang Zhitao nodded: “Oh, I see. Have a safe trip.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No, I’m not.” Shang Zhitao ran into the bathroom and closed the door. When she came out, Luan Nian had already prepared breakfast. Seeing that Shang Zhitao was reluctant to come over, he said: “Come here.”

He had become his true self again, wanting everything done his way, but many things had changed. For instance, when Shang Zhitao sat at the table, Luan Nian pinched her face: “Are you married to the bathroom?”

…

“What were you doing in the bathroom? Contemplating life?”

“Can the bathroom bring you clients?”

“Haven’t you slept with me before?”

Complaining that she had taken too long.

Shang Zhitao pouted, drinking milk while watching Luan Nian.

“What are you looking at?” Luan Nian asked her. “Do you want to talk with me again?”

“Talk like we started yesterday, or like we talked at night?” Shang Zhitao asked him. Her bite yesterday wasn’t light—Luan Nian’s lip corner was broken.

“Either way.” Luan Nian’s eyes swept over her collar, and he raised his eyebrows. Shang Zhitao followed his gaze and saw her home clothes’ collar was open. She hurriedly pinched it closed: “Where are you looking!”

“So, following yesterday’s order for another discussion seems fine to me.”

…

Unable to outdo Luan Nian in being indecent, Shang Zhitao started being unreasonable: “I prefer talking with younger guys.” After saying this, she fearlessly took out her phone, found several photos, and showed them to Luan Nian: “Aren’t these younger guys nice?”

“Very nice. Go find them.” Luan Nian finished eating and went to change clothes, preparing to go to the airport. Luke followed behind him, wagging his tail. Luan Nian crouched down to say goodbye to him: “I’ll be back in a few days.”

Then he stood up and said to Shang Zhitao: “Come here.”

“No.”

“Come here.” He reached out to pull Shang Zhitao in front of him: “Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t eat you. If you don’t want to, I won’t do anything.”

Shang Zhitao knew Luan Nian was talking nonsense. If she gave him just one look, he would take the opportunity to devour her completely. He was such an old fox, and Shang Zhitao knew it perfectly well.

Luan Nian continued: “Also, don’t like younger guys. Younger guys are the most deceptive.”

Shang Zhitao couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“So what’s our relationship now?” Luan Nian asked her.

“Good friends.”

“Fine, good friends.” Luan Nian pinched her face—he had always liked pinching her face—making her mouth pucker into an O-shape. He lowered his head, his lips about to touch hers, then stopped: “Good friends can’t kiss.” Then he turned and left.

After his meeting, Luan Nian went directly to the old house in the city where Dr. Liang and Luan’s father lived.

The older generation also liked making friends and kept the same circle of friends throughout their lives, working together and buying houses together. Back then, they had even said they would find a place to live together when they got old. Who would have thought they would all return to Beijing in the end?

The elderly had good investment vision. This small community, built in the late 1980s, was adjacent to the best school district, with comprehensive surrounding facilities and very convenient transportation. Dr. Liang and Luan’s father lived comfortably. Luan Nian would visit them twice a week, and on weekends, if he was in town, he would take them to stay at his villa. But for nearly a year, except when Ice City was locked down or Beijing restricted departures, Luan Nian had spent other weekends going to Ice City, with great enthusiasm, as if planning to settle there.

When he entered, he smelled food. Luan’s father was studying calligraphy and paintings.

Luan Nian walked over to look and said: “Has Chen Kuannian been here?” Chen Kuannian dealt in collectibles and import-export trade. In the past year or so, import-export trade had become more difficult, so he focused wholeheartedly on collectibles. He had his eye on the famous paintings and calligraphy treasured by the elders.

Luan’s father snorted: “You young people with your little brains still want to outsmart us. He came, but I sent him away. His father said if he comes again, he won’t be allowed in.”

“The prices are good now.” Luan Nian owed Chen Kuannian a favor he hadn’t yet returned, and now seemed a bit like an unfilial son, wanting to hand over Luan’s father’s calligraphy and paintings to Chen Kuannian.

Luan’s father raised his hand, pretending to hit Luan Nian, but Luan Nian acted as if he didn’t see it.

During dinner, Dr. Liang noticed Luan Nian’s broken lip corner and asked him: “What happened to your lip? Craving meat?”

“Dog bite.” Luan Nian suddenly remembered Shang Zhitao’s whimper and thought that these directors had come at an inconvenient time; otherwise, he could have heard her whimper a few more times today.

Luan Nian was aggressive. He could take romance slowly, but he had to have Shang Zhitao immediately.

“What kind of dog bites like that?” Dr. Liang leaned closer to look, making a tsk-tsk sound.

Luan Nian rarely blushed, but he turned his head to avoid Dr. Liang’s gaze.

Dr. Liang chuckled: “Now can I call Shang Zhitao?”

“No.”

“When will I be able to?” Dr. Liang asked him.

“I don’t know.”

After the family of three finished eating, Luan Nian drank tea with his father and took out his phone to see if Shang Zhitao had sent him any messages—naturally, she hadn’t.

Though she hadn’t sent a message, she had posted a selfie on her social media. Her collar was slightly open, revealing her long neck and the snow-white skin of her chest. The lighting was just right, casting shadows on her chest.

Luan Nian suddenly felt a bit angry—what kind of photo was this!

Just as he was about to get angry with Shang Zhitao, he realized something was wrong. He said in the group chat: “Screenshot Shang Zhitao’s social media posts for me.”

The others didn’t understand what he meant, but sent him a screenshot. The photo wasn’t there. Luan Nian smiled. Shang Zhitao had grown up; she now knew how to use unexpected tactics.

Luan Nian opened an online shopping site, ordered a box of condoms, and sent a screenshot to Shang Zhitao: “Put it somewhere by your bed where you can reach out and grab it.”

“Refusing delivery.”

“Abandoning me after using me?”

Shang Zhitao sent him a picture saying, “Our friendship is pure.”

Luan Nian didn’t reply. He didn’t like wasting words. What was there to say? They’d talk when they met—better yet, they wouldn’t talk at all when they met. Waste of time.

Luan Nian felt he had become a lecher.

In all his years, he had never been so restless. His mind was full of Shang Zhitao, and each additional day of waiting felt like it might cost him his life.

On Thursday, he met Lu Mi in the elevator. Her eyes fell on him, swept over him once, then quickly moved away, as if she had glimpsed some secret.

Luan Nian, cutting to the heart, asked her: “I heard Will is remarrying?”

Lu Mi glared at him, but he pretended not to see.

“I don’t know if Will is remarrying, but I’m getting married. As you know, I have nothing except a few humble houses. So I’m just finding someone who also has a few houses. That’s what they call a suitable match.” Before leaving the elevator, she said to Luan Nian: “By the way, you might not know, but Taotao likes younger guys.”

“Seriously.” Lu Mi fearlessly added: “Old Shang and Da Zhai don’t have many requirements for Taotao’s partner choices, just one: he can’t be more than three years older than Taotao.”

Lu Mi was something, hitting Luan Nian’s sore spot. But she wasn’t afraid. She walked away in her tall boots.

Luan Nian followed behind her, observing her confrontational energy, and snorted inwardly.

What the hell “younger guys”!

At lunch with a client, he saw Song Ying was also there.

Song Ying had worked at Luan Nian’s company to build her resume, but eventually went to her father’s company. Luan Nian had heard rumors that the government’s anti-corruption campaign would reach them soon. But Luan Nian remained impassive; it had nothing to do with him. He only cared about when the final payment would be made.

During the meal, Song Ying sat beside Luan Nian. Everyone could understand her father’s matchmaking intentions, so inevitably, there were a few jokes about what a good match they would make.

Luan Nian put down his wine glass and stopped drinking.

Everyone knew Luan Nian’s temperament, including Song Ying’s father. He smiled: “Don’t worry about the children’s matters. Has the final payment process started?” he asked Song Ying.

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

After putting down his wine glass, Luan Nian didn’t take another sip. He wasn’t afraid Song Ying wouldn’t make the final payment; he came today only out of business courtesy. It would be best if the payment came early. If an investigation started, collecting the payment would become difficult.

They ate a meal with false politeness. At the end, he asked Song Ying: “When will the final payment arrive?”

“In about three days. Finance has already submitted the payment request.”

“Good, thank you for your trouble.” Luan Nian smiled at her.

“Luan Nian, I’d like to talk to you.” Song Ying suddenly stopped him.

“Yes?” Luan Nian looked at her.

“I’m very grateful for your care during the two years I worked for your company, and also for teaching me many, many things. But what I most want to say is that my feelings for you aren’t just an employee’s respect for a boss. It’s something more.”

“And then?”

“I know about you and Flora. I accidentally saw your chat window on Flora’s computer. But Flora has been gone for several years. I want to ask, could we have a different kind of relationship?”

Luan Nian’s impression of Song Ying’s appearance and personality was completely vague. But he remembered her talent.

At twenty-two, she was brilliantly talented, truly a rare find. So he was willing to give her many opportunities and believed she could succeed. But Luan Nian didn’t like people who sought quick success.

All works need careful polishing, as does human nature. Human nature, worth savoring and contemplating, is the most attractive. Song Ying would polish her work but hadn’t polished her human nature. This was very regrettable.

“No,” Luan Nian maintained his usual demeanor, showing no discomfort at this sudden confession. He had experienced too many such situations and rejected too many people to be fazed: “Since you’ve seen my chat with Flora, you must want to ask if I would choose you if there were no Flora? The answer is no. With Flora, I pursued her first. With you, I have no intention of pursuing you.” Luan Nian shrugged: “I’m not interested.”

How proud Song Ying was. Since childhood, she had been a princess cherished by her parents, always competing for first place in everything. She had asked her father to arrange for her to join Luan Nian’s company just to work with him. On her first day, when Luan Nian introduced her to the department, he was casual about everyone except Shang Zhitao, whom he asked her to learn from.

When they went to the Northwestern project, Luan Nian and Shang Zhitao’s car was nearly twenty minutes late, which made her uneasy.

Song Ying wanted to win.

Shang Zhitao was so ordinary; she couldn’t accept losing to her.

She felt it was only natural to use her resources and talent to beat an ordinary person, without realizing that every ordinary, hardworking person deserves respect.

“Thank you for telling me these things, Luke. I don’t know when we’ll meet again. If possible, I still hope to have the chance to work with you. I was very happy.” After saying this, she extended her hand to Luan Nian, but he kept his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t necessarily a polite person.

Luan Nian got into his car and made a tip-off call: “I want to report someone who may be involved in transferring huge assets abroad.”

Luan Nian was never truly a good person, nor truly a bad one. Song Ying’s words were oblique, but clever as he was, Luan Nian heard the hidden meaning.

Luan Nian held grudges, and many things weren’t urgent. If he couldn’t handle it then, he would eventually. After all, he still wanted to be a good citizen.

By Friday, he flew to Ice City.

When he entered, Luke ran up to greet him.

Shang Zhitao had rarely come home early, but today she had already showered and was preparing to apply a face mask. When she heard the sound of the password lock opening, her hand paused, and her breathing faltered.

She suddenly regretted wearing that spaghetti-strap nightgown. She wanted to close the door and get up to change, but Luan Nian’s arm had already reached out to block her movement. Then he entered.

“Luan Nian, let’s talk.” Shang Zhitao put on a robe and stepped back toward the bed.

“Mm, let’s talk.”

Luan Nian lowered his head to unbutton his shirt. His movements weren’t fast, but they carried a murderous aura.

“Let’s put on our clothes and talk properly.”

“Mm.”

As Luan Nian made the sound of agreement, he tossed his shirt onto the wooden chair. The muscle groups on his body were activated with his movements. Those muscles seemed to know they looked good and refused to leave Shang Zhitao’s sight.

“Put on your clothes.”

“I will.”

Luan Nian pulled off his belt with a snap and tossed it on the floor.

Shang Zhitao watched him nervously.

That year at his home, their first time together. Luan Nian had looked at her with obscure, unclear eyes, and they had been so urgent they hadn’t even removed their clothes. Shang Zhitao had been nervous then too, but not like now.

“Let’s talk.”

He pulled her to him in one motion, pushed her robe down to her elbows, and his gaze fell on the front of her nightgown. The front that tried to conceal but only drew more attention.

“Luan Nian.”

“Mm.”

Luan Nian switched off the light casually, his fingertips resting on her collarbone, then moving outward to the thin straps. His palm touched her, resting between the strap and her skin. His palm, calloused from years of weightlifting, pressed against her shoulder.

It was like slow torture.

The man who had been desperate before suddenly wasn’t in a hurry. The night was so long, connected to the weekend—why rush? He would take it slowly.