Andrei’s hand hung in mid-air for a moment before he awkwardly pulled it back.
Song Yu propped her elbow against Pei Zhi’s chest as she sat up, wondering if she’d misheard, a faint, muffled grunt sounding in her ear.
The restaurant was a disaster area, littered with shattered wine bottles, glass shards, and broken porcelain everywhere on the floor.
She twisted her head around and saw Pei Zhi lying on the ground, his shoulder pinned beneath fragments of glass. Blood was blooming across his white shirt, stark and glaring.
A faint metallic tang, like rust, hung in the air.
Song Yu paled in shock and scrambled off him at once.
Seeing Pei Zhi’s injury snapped Andrei out of his impulsive haze, his mind clearing for the first time.
He opened his mouth, stammering, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Pei Zhi rose to his feet and looked Song Yu up and down.
Her black hair was disheveled, a stray lock falling across her cheek. She cradled her left arm with her right, her lips bloodless. She looked badly shaken, her gaze fixed straight on the wound at his shoulder.
Pei Zhi reached out and tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertip brushing the nape of her neck.
“It’s fine,” he said, his voice low and husky, as if to soothe her.
Pei Zhi ignored the gash on his own shoulder. His dark, fathomless eyes fixed on Andrei, his expression darkening to something truly frightening.
From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Mia still wailing and fought down his rising fury.
“Right now. Come outside with me.” This time, his tone was pure command, laced with overwhelming pressure.
Andrei fell silent.
Without any resistance, he trailed after Pei Zhi.
The sliding door to the living room balcony slid open, letting in a blast of frigid outdoor wind before it shut again just as quickly.
Song Yu watched Pei Zhi’s retreating back. From behind, the spot where the glass had pierced him stood out even more vividly in a spread of blood.
It trickled down his arm all the way to his palm.
She watched as Pei Zhi bent down, scooped up a handful of snow from the ground, rubbed it between his palms, and finally pressed it against his shoulder to staunch the bleeding.
The pristine snow quickly turned a deep crimson.
The two men trudged one after the other through the vast expanse of white snow, vanishing from the living room’s line of sight.
…
Mia’s hysterical sobs yanked Song Yu’s thoughts back to the present.
Song Yu picked up Mia and carried her to an area far from the restaurant, murmuring soft reassurances.
Still crying and wriggling in her arms, Mia reached for the landline phone on the coffee table. With Song Yu’s help, she clumsily punched in the buttons and made the call.
The woman on the other end grew instantly anxious at the sound of the crying.
They spoke in Swedish, which Song Yu couldn’t follow well, but she could clearly sense Mia’s emotions steadying bit by bit during the conversation. Tears still clung to her long lashes, but the crying had finally stopped.
Song Yu heard the woman’s voice shift from frantic worry to a forced calm, gentle and soothing. For some reason, a pang of envy struck her.
At least for Mia, in a mess like this, there was always someone to pick up her call, to comfort her, to stand as her backup.
When Pei Zhi and Andrei returned, Andrei’s face was bruised—he looked like he’d taken a solid punch to the jaw, his lip split and swelling purple. Snow dusted his clothes.
Pei Zhi, by contrast, was clean, though the bloodstain on his shoulder had spread further.
The moment Mia spotted Andrei, she flung herself into Song Yu’s arms, burying her little face against her in outright rejection.
Andrei’s eyes flickered with hurt, but he just shook his head helplessly.
His emotions fully in check now, he hunched his shoulders slightly and approached Song Yu. In a tone of utmost sincerity, he apologized.
Song Yu pressed her lips together and turned her head away, ignoring him.
Andrei fell silent.
He hadn’t really expected instant forgiveness. Keeping his distance from Mia as well, he quietly set about cleaning up the wreckage in the kitchen.
Pei Zhi borrowed the house’s bathroom, along with a clean towel, fresh clothes, and a portable first-aid kit that Andrei provided.
“Do you need help?” Song Yu’s eyes brimmed with concern, her gaze never leaving him, guilt weighing heavy in her voice.
Pei Zhi glanced at the child perched on her lap. “You take care of Mia.”
Night had fallen thick and heavy. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows lay a silent, pitch-black void.
Exhausted from all the crying, Mia had finally worn herself out. She slumped against Song Yu’s shoulder, asleep at last, her breaths rising and falling rhythmically. In repose, she looked every bit the little angel.
Andrei sank into an armchair, instinctively grabbing a can of beer. But as he pulled the tab, he caught himself, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration before setting the unopened can down on the coffee table.
Pei Zhi emerged from the bathroom wearing a loose gray hoodie, his black hair falling damply over his forehead, water droplets still beading on the strands. His skin gleamed pale and cool. A towel draped over his head, and he was wiping it casually with his uninjured hand.
Andrei cleared his throat lightly. “It’s late. I checked—no more flights back tonight. Why don’t you all just stay here?”
“Alice knew you were coming, so she cleaned the guest room spotless.”
Pei Zhi turned to Song Yu, seeking her opinion.
She met his eyes and nodded.
Truth be told, she had no desire to linger here any longer, but she couldn’t leave with Pei Zhi still injured. And heading out into the night didn’t appeal either.
In Nordic countries, nights were so cold that few ventured out, and public transit ground to a halt.
Andrei stepped up to Song Yu and lowered his voice. “Give Mia to me. I’ll carry her back to her room to sleep.”
Song Yu instinctively pulled back, her gaze still wary.
Andrei gave a helpless smile. “Relax. I love her more than you think.”
Song Yu hesitated.
She stared into the man’s gray eyes, her heart twisting. At last, she relented and handed Mia over.
After the afternoon’s chaos, no one felt like chatting or catching up. They bid each other goodnight early and retired to their rooms.
Andrei had assumed they’d share a room and somehow produced an extra pillow.
After the day’s ordeal, Song Yu was utterly spent.
Pei Zhi, wounded and weary, felt the same. Without a word, they both lay down on the bed.
Though they’d done far more intimate things before, this was their first time properly sharing a clean, comfortable double bed just to sleep.
The room was quiet, filled with the fresh scent of body wash.
Song Yu felt oddly stiff. She stared at the ceiling fixture for a while, then slowly rolled over to face the man. Her eyes settled on his right shoulder.
Once he lay down, the loose neckline of his hoodie revealed a glimpse of his refined collarbone and the edge of a bandage, though she couldn’t make out much.
“Does it still hurt?” she whispered.
Pei Zhi extended his uninjured arm beneath her waist, drawing her smoothly into his embrace. She went willingly.
“It’s not bad.”
Just then, footsteps echoed in the hallway—two sets.
They were followed by a man and a woman arguing in hushed tones, likely to avoid waking Mia. They spoke in English.
“We need to move,” the woman’s voice insisted firmly.
“Move, move—how many more times? This is the third relocation already.” Andrei’s tone rose with agitation. “If this house gets torn down, we can’t afford the next one.”
Alice remained resolute. “The government passed the relocation plan in today’s meeting. Within a year, all these houses will be demolished. We have no choice.”
“You’re the city’s urban planner. How can you say we have no choice?”
“Andrei,” Alice said patiently, “the Kiruna Iron Mine has been excavated for years, down to two thousand meters underground. The ground beneath the city has been hollowed out. Even with backfilling, it can’t support the city’s weight anymore. The entire city has to be relocated.”
“If we don’t move, and the mining continues, it’ll all collapse.”
“Then why not just shut down the iron mine?” Andrei’s voice turned hysterical. “It nearly killed me once before, and now it’s going to take my home!”
Alice regarded him quietly.
“Without the mine, most people in the city would lose their livelihoods.”
Andrei’s eyes reddened, as if he’d suffered some profound injustice. His lips moved a couple of times, but in the end, he said nothing.
A long silence stretched between them. From their room, Song Yu could hear no more.
Some time later, Pei Zhi leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, murmuring softly, “Go to sleep.”
The night deepened, and the room’s lights went out.
The guest room’s window overlooked a vast open plain, distant mountains rolling along the horizon.
Snow reflected the moonlight, making the outdoor scene surprisingly clear. Fine flakes began to drift down from the sky, swirling lazily.
The world grew even quieter. Song Yu lay awake, her mind racing despite her exhaustion. Her cheek pressed against the man’s chest, where she could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat.
Thump, thump.
“I can’t sleep,” Song Yu blurted into the darkness.
Pei Zhi lay with his eyes closed, his thick lashes fanned down. His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand.
Lifting her head, Song Yu whispered, “What were they arguing about? Why would shutting down the iron mine mean losing their livelihoods?”
Pei Zhi rested his chin atop her head, his voice slow and measured as he explained. “The iron mine is the lifeblood of Kiruna’s economy. Cities around the Arctic Circle are blanketed in snow year-round, roads blocked, so they’re underdeveloped economically. But they’re rich in mineral resources, so mining is what keeps them going.”
“I see,” Song Yu said, a note of helplessness in her tone.
Pei Zhi murmured a soft “Mm,” seemingly unconcerned with the outside world’s upheavals or the city’s grim fate.
His arm tightened around her, drawing her even deeper into his embrace. The blanket gave a faint rustle.
“It’s my turn to ask you,” he said.
“Can you tell me why you reacted so strongly at dinner?”
Song Yu froze for a moment. She’d thought she’d hidden it well, but it hadn’t escaped his keen observation.
It was true that earlier that afternoon, Andrei had only wanted Mia to eat properly. His scolding tone had been a bit harsh.
As guests in this house, they really shouldn’t have interfered. After all, Pei Zhi himself had been spanked by Pei Zhenshan as a child for not eating obediently.
In Pei Zhi’s impression, Song Yu had always been someone who knew her boundaries. Apart from her stubbornness when it came to filmmaking and photography, she tended to view everything in life from a bystander’s perspective, never interfering and meeting it all with indifference.