The first time Shang Zhitao saw Luan Nian’s friends was on Zang Yao’s travel blog, though Song Qiuhan and Chen Kuannian weren’t there at that time. Thinking about it now, that was ten years ago.

The young Shang Zhitao had seen them soaking in hot springs and drinking in the snowy Hokkaido, had seen Luan Nian laughing as he threw Zang Yao into the snow. At that time, she had experienced an explosion, a breakdown.

Back then, she knew Luan Nian loved freedom, and she didn’t have a legitimate status in his life, so she always deliberately yet seemingly coincidentally avoided his calls, never asking about his whereabouts. Even after they started dating, she never asked to meet his friends or family.

Back then, she was as detached as an outsider.

She had imagined gatherings like today’s before. Only when she was part of it did she realize how wonderful it felt. Not just because they were Luan Nian’s friends, but because they were all truly good people. Shang Zhitao had always thought that for someone as picky and sharp as Luan Nian to make friends, they must be very tolerant of him.

She sat properly, listening to their conversations that covered a wide range of topics from all over the world.

Lin Chuner and Xiao Mei grew tired of sitting and asked Shang Zhitao together: “Want to get some milk tea?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Shang Zhitao and Luan Nian spoke simultaneously. She turned to him: “Why not?”

Luan Nian didn’t want her to leave; he hadn’t fully enjoyed the satisfaction of having his girlfriend sitting beside him. But Shang Zhitao ignored him, raising her eyebrows like he often did, and went with the girls to buy milk tea.

Once outside the restaurant, Lin Chuner immediately imitated Luan Nian, putting on a stern face:

“Tan Mian’s choice of restaurant today is unacceptable.”

“Eat when you’re eating, talk less.”

“Lin Chuner, Song Qiuhan, you two sit further apart.”

“Xiao Mei, how do you tolerate Chen Kuannian?”

She imitated him perfectly, making Shang Zhitao laugh uncontrollably. Xiao Mei added from the side:

“It’s not that I don’t have a girlfriend, it’s just that my girlfriend is very busy today.”

Everyone burst into laughter, and Shang Zhitao nodded: “So accurate, so accurate, he’s exactly like that.”

“I used to think someone like him wouldn’t have friends,” Shang Zhitao said.

“I thought he’d never find a girlfriend in his lifetime!” Lin Chuner said, then asked her: “How’s business?”

“Just starting, so it’s okay. There’s a lot I don’t understand, but I’m learning gradually.”

“Luan Nian said you have the strongest learning ability. When has he ever praised anyone? So I think you must be fine,” said the studious Xiao Mei.

“He praised me?”

“Yes, when you weren’t around.”

The three girls were each beautiful in their way, attracting attention as soon as they entered the milk tea shop. Each ordered a cup of hot milk tea, drinking while walking and chatting around the restaurant.

Cultural relics restoration, charity projects, internet advertising—they chatted about whatever came to mind, with endless topics. Gradually, they felt as if they had known each other for years.

It was exhilarating.

When Shang Zhitao returned to Luan Nian’s home and walked the dog with him, she was still chattering: “Why is Lin Chuner so cute? She and Song Qiuhan match well.”

“Xiao Mei is so knowledgeable. I’ve watched her talk about cultural relics, but in person, she’s even more erudite.”

“I can’t believe Song Qiuhan and Chen Kuannian were high school classmates. They don’t seem alike at all.”

Luan Nian walked the dog while listening to her chatter, occasionally glancing at her, feeling that she was genuinely happy. So he asked her: “Did you like it?”

“I loved it!”

“Even if you liked it, I won’t bring you next time.” Luan Nian, never one to let a grudge go, gave her a fake smile: “Go shopping instead.”

“Petty.” Shang Zhitao called him petty, then told Luke: “Your dad is petty.”

Luke barked once: “My dad is not!” Resolutely defending his father’s image.

“Shang Zhitao.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll bring you along next time too.”

“Alright.”

Shang Zhitao thought for a moment: “Then when you come to Ice City next time, can I take you to one of our Ice City drinking gatherings? It might just be a group of people happily drinking together, and the conversation might not be particularly meaningful.”

“Will He Yun be there?” Luan Nian remembered the name He Yun; he had called her when they were together.

“Yes.”

“That’s fine.”

Things seemed good between them—they had opened up their social circles to each other. Luan Nian went to Ice City every weekend to see her. When they met, they would make passionate love, then sleep in each other’s arms.

Just like ordinary couples.

But Luan Nian always felt that Shang Zhitao’s heart hadn’t truly been ignited. Just as Shang Zhitao thought, the rope stretched between them was still there, only with more elasticity, not as easily broken as before.

On the last weekend before the New Year, Shang Zhitao had to go to the company for an urgent matter. Luan Nian sat in her living room, looking at the wall of books. He knew the distance had always been there and hadn’t disappeared just because they had started over.

He sat in her living room until evening, suddenly unable to bear this sense of distance. He got up and headed straight to the airport. When he reached the airport, he messaged Shang Zhitao: “I have something to take care of in Beijing.”

“Okay.”

Shang Zhitao replied without asking what it was or when he would come back.

She was working overtime at the company with her employees on a major account. By the time she left the meeting room, she realized it was already midnight. She texted Luan Nian: “Did you arrive?”

“Yes.”

“Will I not see you until after the New Year?”

“Mm.”

“Sleep early, good night.”

“Good night.”

Shang Zhitao returned home and saw the lamb spine hot pot that Luan Nian had prepared. He had said that since the weather was cold, they should have something hot for dinner. She reheated it, served herself a piece, and couldn’t help but message Luan Nian: “The lamb spine is delicious.”

“Weren’t you sleeping?”

“I just got home and was a bit hungry.” She sent him a selfie wearing black-framed glasses.

“So ugly.”

“Hehe.”

After eating the lamb spine, Shang Zhitao went to take a shower. When she came back, she felt that such a good lamb spine should be eaten with a hot pot. The next day, after waking up at noon and calling Old Shang to say she wouldn’t be coming home, she set up an electric hot pot. The refrigerator was well-stocked—Luan Nian had prepared all the vegetables she liked for the hot pot they were supposed to have yesterday: winter melon, white radish, green bamboo shoots, fresh tofu skin, and cabbage, all neatly arranged.

Eating alone, she suddenly felt a bit bored. So she told Luan Nian: “You prepared so much food, I can’t finish it by myself.”

“Take your time.”

“I’m starting to crave the fish from that fish restaurant. Is it still open?”

“Yes.”

“Then when I go to Beijing next time, will you take me there?”

“Sure.”

Luan Nian’s responses were very short. Although he had never been one for unnecessary words, since their reunion, his replies had been a bit warmer.

Luan Nian had nothing to do in Beijing. That day, he drove to the mountain bar. He had left his favorite car for Shang Zhitao to use after sending her and Luke back to Ice City. She had sold her car, and with many work engagements and daily errands, not having a car was inconvenient. Shang Zhitao had refused to keep it, but he had just left the keys and gone.

Luan Nian couldn’t explain what was wrong with him; he was just in a bad mood. Someone with a camera was photographing the huge picture on the left wall of the bar. When they saw Luan Nian come in, they put down the camera and smiled at him.

It was Zang Yao, whom he hadn’t seen in many years.

She had cut her hair short, looking neat and capable, though with a wrinkle at the corner of her eye. She put down the camera and extended her arms toward Luan Nian: “Won’t you give your friend a hug?”

Luan Nian stepped forward and politely shook hands. Meeting an old friend stirred emotions within him: “When did you return to China?”

Just as Zang Yao was about to speak, a child’s voice called “Mama,” and a little boy ran over. The boy was of mixed blood, with blue eyes.

“Say hello to uncle, Xiaomai.”

“Hello, uncle.”

Zang Yao crouched down to kiss Xiaomai, then stood up: “I returned in October, first quarantined in Guangzhou, then stayed at home in Beijing for half a month. I met some friends, and then it was the end of the year.”

“How did you find this place?”

“Tan Mian told me.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“Warm water. I’ve quit alcohol.”

Luan Nian glanced at Xiaomai, his expression softening: “What would Xiaomai like to drink?”

“Yogurt.”

Zang Yao sat at the bar while the server took Xiaomai away to play. She looked at Luan Nian several times before finally smiling and asking: “You’re unhappy?”

“Is it obvious?”

“Very.”

Luan Nian raised his eyebrows and pushed the warm water toward her: “Tell me about your years.”

“Me…” Zang Yao thought for a moment: “I got married, had a child, divorced, then remarried. That’s it.”

“Busy years. You brought the child back to China alone?”

“Yes, we’ll play until October next year before going back. Xiaomai often asks me what China is like. I say it’s beautiful, but he doesn’t believe me. So I found a way to come back.”

“Isn’t it a hassle?”

“I’ve always liked a bit of trouble, especially with so many friends here, and my ex-boyfriends.” Zang Yao laughed: “How are you? It’s rare to see you so expressive—that photo hanging there is quite eye-catching.”

“I’m fine,” Luan Nian said.

They both fell silent. Zang Yao turned to look at the photo again, then back at Luan Nian. She had wondered what Luan Nian would be like when he truly loved someone. Would he be passionate? Would he be careful? Would his sharpness be dulled?

He still seemed calm, direct, and sharp, but something had changed. So Luan Nian could change after all.

When Shang Zhitao’s call came in, the tepid winter sunset had already filled the bar. Zang Yao was taking photos with Xiaomai nearby, while Luan Nian was turning pages of a book by the window.

“What are you doing?” Shang Zhitao asked him.

“Chatting with a friend.”

If this friend were someone Shang Zhitao knew, Luan Nian would have directly mentioned the name, but he didn’t.

“Which friend? Have I met them?” Shang Zhitao wasn’t checking up on him; she just wanted to know about him.

“You haven’t met her. Zang Yao.”

To Luan Nian, Zang Yao was a good old friend. To Shang Zhitao, Zang Yao was someone special in Luan Nian’s heart.

Seeing that Shang Zhitao didn’t speak, Luan Nian asked: “What’s wrong?”

“I know Zang Yao. Zang Yao rented a place near Houhai—that house belongs to Lu Mi. Lu Mi saw you sending flowers to Zang Yao.”

“And then?” Luan Nian asked her: “What are you trying to say?”

Luan Nian wanted to hear Shang Zhitao say something passionate, like in the past when she would fearlessly profess her love over the phone, or bring him hot steamed buns just because he liked them, or leave only to return in the middle of the night. If at this moment, Shang Zhitao had questioned why he sent flowers to her back then, he would have been very happy and told her: “She just called and asked him to help deliver a bouquet, that’s all.”

If you like flowers, I’ll give you a garden.

No lie—I’ve rented a small piece of land on the mountain to grow flowers for you.

This was probably the most romantic thing Luan Nian had ever done.

It was that simple.

Everyone can be explosive, angry, completely unguarded, because intense love brings intense emotions.

“I don’t have anything to say. You two chat. Call me when you get home.” Shang Zhitao hung up.

Luan Nian felt disappointed.

When he got home, he didn’t call Shang Zhitao. He took a shower and leaned against the headboard to read. Not a single word from the book entered his eyes. His throat hurt a little. The mountain was windy, and he had caught a rare cold.

Dr. Liang called to ask about his New Year plans: “Do you want to spend the New Year in Ice City? If you want to go, then go. Your father and I can spend the New Year with some good friends. And if you’re going to Ice City, it’s best to set off the day after tomorrow. You should prepare some gifts; you can’t go to someone’s home empty-handed.”

“I’m not going.”

“? Didn’t you want to go a few days ago?”

“I’m feeling a bit unwell, so I won’t go.”

“Oh. Then let’s seriously discuss how to spend the New Year. Will you come to our place, or should we go to yours?” Dr. Liang asked.

“Either is fine.”

“What’s wrong with you! How old are you to be saying ‘either is fine’!” Dr. Liang laughed at him: “Choose now.”

“I’ll come to your place.”

“Good. Then come over the day after tomorrow, and we’ll go shopping for food together.”

“Okay.”

After hanging up, Luan Nian felt like he might have a fever. When he checked his temperature, he indeed had one. He got up and went to the hospital outpatient clinic for a COVID test, then returned home, took some fever-reducing and anti-inflammatory medicine, and went to sleep.

Shang Zhitao didn’t receive any message from him. In the middle of the night, she asked: “Are you not home yet?” Then she recalled this message, as it looked like she was checking up on him, which wasn’t her intention.

“I am. Just went for a COVID test.”

“Why?”

“I have a fever.”

“Oh. Have you taken medicine?”

“Yes.”

Shang Zhitao put down the phone, suddenly feeling an intense longing for Luan Nian. It seemed like it had been a long time since she’d had such passionate emotions—an urgent desire to see him, to be with him.

She looked at Luke beside her and asked: “Would you like to spend the New Year in Beijing with me?”

Luke stared for a moment, then jumped up: “Woof! Yes! Let’s go now!”

“Alright. Shall we set off early tomorrow morning?”

“Woof! Yes!”

Early the next morning, Shang Zhitao first went home. Since childhood, every New Year she had spent with Old Shang and Da Zhai. This was the first time she had decided to travel so far to see someone.

“He’s sick, and I want to go see him.”

“Go ahead!” Da Zhai was kneading dough: “Drive safely. Your father and I will go to your grandmother’s house for the New Year, so don’t worry about us being lonely. He keeps coming to see you; it wouldn’t be right not to reciprocate.”

They were understanding parents. They had seen Luan Nian traveling back and forth every week and, after meeting him several times, thought he was a good person.

“Then I’m off?”

“Go.”

Shang Zhitao drove Luan Nian’s car with Luke, heading toward Beijing.

She didn’t tell Luan Nian she had set off. It was just her and the dog on the road, heading toward the one her heart yearned for.

Shang Zhitao recalled her fearless self in her twenties. She thought she would never be like that again, but in that moment of loneliness last night, she was suddenly filled with passion once more.

She drove from eight in the morning until midnight, a full sixteen hours. She rested for fifteen minutes every hour and a half, driving continuously. After six in the evening, her waist began to ache, but that was fine—she shortened her driving time and extended her rest periods.

Luke was incredibly well-behaved. He sat in the passenger seat the whole time, watching the scenery outside, occasionally barking a couple of times to keep Shang Zhitao from getting drowsy.

Along the way, from the snow outside the passes to the wind inside them, from countless nameless towns to the great city of Beijing, she experienced for the first time how exhausting it could be to see someone. Even once was difficult, let alone traveling under the stars and moon year after year. But Luan Nian had never complained. Despite still mocking and criticizing her, he had never said: “Shang Zhitao, I’ve gone through so much trouble to see you.”

In her car, she played “Thinking of You Under the Stars and Moon” and “This Is the Bravest Moment of My Life.” When she heard the line “You, who are at the end of the world, standing before me,” tears suddenly poured down her face.

Shang Zhitao was incredibly happy, truly happy.

She felt like she was 22 again.

Back to the age when she would fearlessly love someone, back to the age when she still believed in love.

As she entered Beijing, she called Luan Nian and said: “I’ve come to see you.”

All alone, 1,400 kilometers, from Ice City to Beijing.

To see you.