Impulse and willfulness are the free gifts that come with youth. They arrived late in Fang Zhuo’s life — in the eighteenth spring of her existence.

Before this, Fang Zhuo would never have appeared in an unfamiliar corner of the city because of some fleeting passing thought. She would never have indulged herself in so many useless, extravagant preferences, nor would she have kept a person company on a purposeless, meandering walk at midnight lasting half an hour or longer.

These things all seemed to be Yan Lie’s privileges — he possessed a great deal of innocence.

Losing track of time, entertaining all manner of unrealistic fantasies, confronting vast blank stretches of expectation that couldn’t be filled…. These were all the aftereffects of Fang Zhuo’s belated adolescence.

Yet by the time the last ember in the sky burned out and thousands of stars were shrouded in the white ash left behind by the fireworks, Yan Lie still had not said what his wish was.

The crowd dispersed, and the surging, roaring waves of the crowd stilled, like a sea settling.

Yan Lie’s voice became clear again: “It’s not a wish. It’s a goal.”

The wind off the river had tousled his hair, baring his smooth forehead. He curved the corners of his eyes and smiled: “Once it’s been achieved some day, I’ll tell you!”

Fang Zhuo said, at a loss: “Then why are you giving me a preview of it right now?”

Yan Lie said irresponsibly: “To test your patience!”

Fang Zhuo laughed and asked: “Want to test how well you withstand a beating?”

Yan Lie turned and ran.

After running a little way, he looked back, using the distance as cover, and asked with a grin: “Oh, right — during the holiday, I asked you something and never finished. Do you remember?”

Fang Zhuo said: “Say it then!”

Yan Lie asked, in his most incorrigible manner: “When you have money someday, would your family mind taking in one more mouth to feed?”

Fang Zhuo was quiet for a moment, looked at him seriously, and said: “Idiot. We can feed one more mouth even without money.” Then she furrowed her brow, looking pained: “But you’re a little expensive.”

Yan Lie loudly protested: “I am not! You’re talking nonsense!”

The lamplight filtered through the dappled shadows of the trees. A girl walked through the play of light and shadow along the tree-lined path, her gaze lowered as she typed on WeChat. She typed a line, thought again and deleted it, and in the end only sent a single emoji.

The friend walking beside her leaned over and asked: “Who are you messaging?”

“No one in particular. A younger guy I met at dinner tonight — the son of a friend of my dad. Pretty good-looking, just incredibly standoffish.” The girl closed out of the chat and sent a few messages into several other group chats, and said offhandedly: “He’s going to university next year. I recommended he go to University B, but he completely brushed me off the whole time.”

The friend sounded unimpressed: “He’s only in his third year of high school? What’s the unique appeal of a standoffish guy that young? Third year is already miserable enough.”

The girl smiled and looked up: “I know you only go for good-looking ones.”

“I like them to be cheerful and interesting — but that type tends to be everyone’s darling, which makes it hard to have a serious relationship.” The friend nudged her with an elbow, tilted her chin in the direction ahead, and said quietly: “Look at that guy over there — he was watching the fireworks with us just now. I’ve been observing him for a while. Not sure what year of university he’s in.”

The girl looked in the indicated direction and saw a familiar face she had encountered only a few hours ago. The face that had been associated with “standoffish and gloomy” was now wearing an easy, warm smile, giving freely of his goodwill to the person in front of him.

Their gazes crossed for a brief moment. He had probably seen her too — perhaps he didn’t recognize her, or perhaps he simply didn’t register it — because the very next second he looked away and continued talking to the person in front of him.

The white mist of two people’s breath mingled in the air as they walked slowly through the mellow orange lamplight. The scene was harmonious and tender — almost too gentle to feel real.

The girl stood there in a slight daze, then switched back to the chat window she had been in, withdrew the emoji, and erased the entire conversation as if nothing had happened.

The friend caught a glimpse of what she was doing and teased: “What happened? Realized the standoffish type is less appealing than the sunny type?”

The girl kept her expression completely steady: “Nothing. I just thought it through and decided he’s still too young. I can’t let him get the wrong idea and distract him from his studies.”

“That’s fair enough.” The friend sighed. “If you can’t find someone to cherish, shall we go get a cup of milk tea instead?”

Yan Lie didn’t want to go home, so Fang Zhuo could only bring him back with her. The two of them found the abandoned bicycle somewhere along the way and walked it to Ye Yuncheng’s rental apartment.

Yan Lie hadn’t eaten much tonight, and now that his agitation had faded, he found himself ravenously hungry.

Fang Zhuo told him to wait at the table and carried the food over to heat it up.

She had only just poured water into the pot when Ye Yuncheng came out in his pajamas.

“Uncle, did I wake you?” Yan Lie stood up and said, “Happy New Year!”

Ye Yuncheng looked drowsy but smiled in surprise after a moment. “Happy New Year. Why are you here so late?”

Yan Lie said cheerfully: “I came to cadge a meal!”

Ye Yuncheng sat down at the table and asked: “Have you had dumplings? There are some left in the freezer. I can cook some for you now.”

Yan Lie rolled up his sleeves and said: “Sure. I’ll cook them myself.”

Ye Yuncheng opened the fridge and pointed out where they were, and took the dumplings out.

“Oh, right, there’s also the egg wine.” He remembered, and warmly recommended: “There’s still half a bottle of yellow rice wine in the fridge. I can crack an egg into it and steam it for you.” Yan Lie quickly declined: “I don’t drink!”

Ye Yuncheng asked: “Are you allergic to alcohol?”

Yan Lie said vaguely: “Not exactly.”

“Then just have a little. It’s very nourishing.” Ye Yuncheng said gently, “It’s sweet — it tastes quite different from ordinary alcohol, very pleasant to drink. If you don’t believe me, ask Zhuozhuo.”

Fang Zhuo turned on the exhaust fan and vouched for it: “It’s really quite good.”

Yan Lie was still trying to think of how to refuse when Ye Yuncheng suddenly reached out and touched his cheek. The unfamiliar sensation startled him.

He held himself back from flinching, and saw Ye Yuncheng’s face full of concern as he murmured: “You two were out in the cold wind, playing out so late — both your faces are frozen stiff. All the more reason to chase the chill away. Have a little, yes?”

Yan Lie’s lips parted and closed. He couldn’t think of a proper objection, and instinctively agreed.

Both burners on the stove were lit, and the smell of alcohol began to drift slowly through the cracks in the steamer lid — different from anything Yan Lie had smelled before, carrying a faint, sweet fragrance.

Fang Zhuo stood by the sink tending to the heat and said, for no apparent reason: “Yan Lie likes sweet things.”

Ye Yuncheng said: “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Fang Zhuo said with certainty. “He also likes cake — the sweet pastries you used to make for me were eaten by him.”

Yan Lie: “……Are you telling on me?”

“What’s wrong with that? He likes what his uncle makes.” Ye Yuncheng had kept track of every small detail. “Zhuozhuo likes spicy food, salty food, and meat — uncle will make those for you too.”

Fang Zhuo turned her head and gave a triumphant little smile. Yan Lie rarely saw such a childlike expression on her face.

He leaned idly against the refrigerator door, feeling the warmth from the stove reaching him, and thought in quiet puzzlement: how is this home so warm? He really, truly loved this place.

When the food was heated, it was carried to the table, still steaming.

Fang Zhuo ate a little too. Ye Yuncheng wasn’t hungry and didn’t touch his chopsticks, but he stayed at the table and watched them eat.

He asked: “Are you going home tonight?” Yan Lie hesitated a moment and said: “I won’t go back.”

“Then will you sleep in the living room or share the room with your uncle?” Ye Yuncheng said, “Your mattress is still here, by the way. Shall I send it back for you tomorrow?”

Yan Lie said: “I’ll sleep in the living room. Leave the mattress too — keep my spot reserved.”

Ye Yuncheng stretched his arms with a smile and said: “Then your uncle will have to rent a bigger place from now on. Between you and Xiao Mu — we’ve got quite the family here.”