“Why are you in such a hurry to go back during winter break?” The elderly woman supported her head with one hand. “Wouldn’t it be perfect to spend the winter here? I checked the weather forecast—your place is five or six degrees colder than here.”
Even if it was ten degrees colder, she spent most of her time indoors anyway, so it made no difference. But Song Fu did not want to upset the elder, so she gave up on packing her luggage and sat back down on the sofa. She said uneasily, “Let’s still check your blood pressure.”
Cheng An’s father came every week to examine Song Fu’s grandmother’s health, and Cheng An usually tagged along on most visits, always bringing small gifts like dolls or insect specimens—or even a simple bouquet of flowers.
He said, “Last time, I saw an empty vase in the study and thought it might need some.”
Song Fu thanked him politely and took the flowers.
It was undeniable that Cheng An was a very graceful young man—measured in his actions, never showing anything that made others uncomfortable. Even if he did, he apologized immediately. People like him were popular with both same-sex friends and the opposite sex.
But Song Fu was not one of them. “Would you like tea or coffee?”
“Coffee,” Cheng An chose the latter.
The two of them were of different genders and ages, with hardly any overlapping interests. Even sitting together, they had little to talk about. They started with the recent weather, then expressed concern for Song Fu’s grandmother’s health, and finally touched on school matters.
Cheng An had heard a bit about Song Fu’s excellent grades. “Early romance hasn’t affected you?”
Song Fu explained, “We haven’t started dating yet. We plan to wait until after high school graduation.”
After finishing their drinks, the two of them went to the study to read. Reading was truly a great activity—they could each read their own books without disturbing each other.
When Song Fu casually picked a book and sat down, her phone screen lit up with a message from Ci Ye.
It had snowed heavily there, bending the branches in the courtyard. Ci Ye said he had built a snowman by the gate and was about to take a photo for Song Fu when Huan Huan, that stinky dog, ruined it. The picture showed nothing but shattered snowballs and a grinning dog face.
Song Fu’s lips curved up slightly. Her fair fingers tapped on the phone screen: Don’t let Huan Huan pounce on you. Its kicks hurt.
The two circled around and eventually chatted about when she would go home.
Typing was too troublesome, so Ci Ye simply called her—
Song Fu stepped outside the study to talk, leaning against the wall. “Mm, my grandmother doesn’t want to let me go. I had almost finished packing my luggage.”
Ci Ye sighed helplessly on the other end, preparing for the worst. “You’re not going to stay at your grandmother’s for the entire winter break, are you?”
“Not that bad.” Song Fu twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “Don’t worry. I’ll definitely get back before your birthday.”
The study door clicked open. Cheng An walked out, nodded slightly to Song Fu, and pointed downstairs. He lowered his voice. “I should go.”
Song Fu nodded to show she understood. She followed him downstairs to see him off while continuing to listen to Ci Ye on the phone.
“That’s still half a month.” Ci Ye calculated. For the first time, the holiday felt so hard to endure.
Song Fu chuckled lightly. “Half a month flies by.”
Cheng An’s gaze lingered briefly on Song Fu’s upturned lips.
Song Fu could not see her guest off while on the phone—that would be too rude—so she did not chat with Ci Ye much longer. She hung up, walked him to the entryway, and reminded him to be careful on the road and watch for ice. Suddenly, Cheng An spoke.
“The person you were just talking to—is that the boy you promised to date in the future?”
Since they did not know each other anyway, there was no need to hide it. Song Fu nodded.
“I think I heard you mention a birthday. Is it yours?” Cheng An met Song Fu’s surprised expression and showed timely remorse. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“It’s not mine.” Song Fu had not said anything secretive, so she did not mind.
Then it must be the other person’s birthday. Cheng An nodded in understanding. “Have you decided on a gift?” He smiled wistfully. “I’ve always found birthday gifts tricky. Some people care a lot about the ceremony—they might even argue or sulk over it. So pure, so vibrant.”
Song Fu found the latter part of his comment odd, as if it implied those people were immature. Though she had not decided yet, “It’s fine. He’ll like whatever I give him.”
Cheng An said nothing.
What a coincidence.
Song Fu booked a flight for two days before Ci Ye’s birthday and explained everything to her grandmother. On the day she planned to leave, freezing rain fell. The rain was liquid before it hit surfaces, but it froze solid upon impact. The trees by the road turned into candied hawthorns, and the steps looked glued down.
Because of that, her grandmother slipped and fell.
She said it was nothing serious, but the elderly could not afford falls. So they called Cheng An’s father for a simple check. The fall itself was fine, but they discovered her blood pressure and heart rate were off, requiring a full hospital checkup.
Out of duty as a granddaughter, Song Fu stayed to accompany her to the hospital.
She got in the car and called Ci Ye first. “Don’t go to the airport to wait. I have to take my grandmother for a checkup.” Song Fu explained briefly. “I can’t come back for now.”
Ci Ye went quiet for a moment on the other end, his voice low and emotionless. “Got it.”
At the hospital, they did a full checkup. While her grandmother had the ECG, Song Fu waited in the corridor, not playing on her phone. Her little leather shoes tapped the floor.
So annoying.
She hated breaking her word.
She hated disappointing people even more.
If only she had told Ci Ye after getting home—it would not have left him waiting in vain.
When she sent Ci Ye the flight screenshot, he replied with several dog-with-flowers emojis, unable to hide his joy.
“Arguing?” Cheng An appeared at her side at some point. “Because of your grandmother’s health? He didn’t understand?”
Song Fu lifted her thick lashes and glanced at him. “No.”
She was too lazy to explain more. They were not that close.
The ECG finished. Song Fu went to hear the doctor, who said the heartbeat was fine—healthier than some young people with sinus arrhythmia.
“Oh my, at home it showed a fast heart rate, and my blood pressure was super high.” Song Fu’s grandmother stared at her ECG, confused. She had checked her blood pressure earlier too, and it was normal.
The doctor did not know what was going on either and told her the next checkup location. “It’s on the third floor.”
By the time the full checkup ended, it was dark. The conclusion was that she was healthy, nothing major.
Finally, Cheng An’s father came to apologize. He did not know what happened—he had used a faulty machine that always showed fast heart rate and high blood pressure. He thought he had put it away. He was truly sorry and offered to cover the full checkup costs, but the good-tempered Song Fu’s grandmother refused, saying it was no big deal to get a checkup anyway.
Only Song Fu felt speechless. “…”
No choice then—book the next fastest flight.
But her grandmother objected first. “A girl alone at night is too dangerous. What’s so urgent that it can’t wait until morning?” She had watched too many murder documentaries lately and could not bear letting her precious granddaughter travel alone late at night. Even if someone accompanied her here, what about after landing there? No way, just no!
Cheng An nodded in agreement beside her. “Wait until tomorrow. Safety aside, you need rest too.”
Song Fu could not win them over, so she let the aunt take her suitcase and booked a 5:40 a.m. flight.
She returned to her room, lay on the bed, and set an alarm for 4:30 a.m.
There was something very important she had to give Ci Ye before his birthday!
…
The night passed, and the alarm rang.
Song Fu had gotten less than three hours of actual sleep. She freshened up simply, called a ride on her phone, and dragged her suitcase downstairs.
Then she noticed the living room light was on?
“Song Fu?”
A familiar voice.
“Auntie, didn’t I say not to wake Song Fu?” Ci Ye’s phoenix eyes shone brightly, joyful at seeing the person he wanted.
The aunt was surprised to see Song Fu too. “No, I didn’t go call her.”
“How did you get here?” Song Fu set down her suitcase. After a brief daze, joy colored her eyes. “I almost left for the airport. Missing you would’ve been a disaster.”
“What if you stayed up waiting for me and couldn’t sleep?” Ci Ye did not want to disturb her rest.
Song Fu walked over and saw Ci Ye’s disheveled state. “Is it raining outside again?” His black hair was damp, and there were marks on his pants from falling—somehow pitiful.
Ci Ye nodded first, then noticed her gaze and scratched his head. “It was too dark, I didn’t see clearly, and the rain froze into ice—super slippery. Good thing you haven’t gone out yet. It’s really cold in the morning…” He downed the ginger soup the aunt gave him. “Why don’t you sleep a bit more now?”
“I’m not sleepy.” Song Fu sat beside Ci Ye and took the towel from the aunt. “Does Uncle Ci know you came?”
Ci Ye yawned after she rubbed his head a couple times. “I messaged him.”
So he probably did not know. Song Fu worried. “What about your birthday party?” It was Ci Ye’s first birthday party.
The previous first one had been ruined by a car accident. This one celebrated his coming of age. In the plot, Father Ci formally invited many people and prepared a cake taller than a person… Now, Ci Ye had ditched it all just to come find her.
“Who cares about that.” Ci Ye’s answer was willful.
The person he wanted to be with was already by his side.