There were a lot of people skiing in winter. Most of the hotels at the foot of the mountain were fully booked; only the five-star hotels were exorbitantly priced. And since the rooms Meng Yanxi booked were all suites, that was what allowed him to be so willful.

“Tell me—how can you be this extravagant?”

Lawyer Luo always traveled light. He set down his suitcase and immediately went to knock on Meng Yanxi’s door.

Meng Yanxi was just about to change clothes. His shirt buttons were undone halfway. Thinking it was Jin Zhao, he went straight to open the door, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile.

When his eyes met Luo Heng’s utterly annoying face, the smile at the corner of his mouth froze on the spot.

For the next few minutes, Lawyer Luo, having taken advantage yet still acting coy, folded his arms and stood behind him, clicking his tongue and putting on a sanctimonious performance.

“This is a suite. I’m not even staying in the same room as you. What is there for you to be dissatisfied about?”

“Clearly only one bed can be slept on, yet you insist on booking four suites. Did you never think about giving the rooms up for people who actually need them?”

“I’m really curious, Meng Yanxi—do you know how the wealth gap comes about?”

Out of humanitarian spirit, Meng Yanxi restrained the urge to kick him out.

After all, Luo Heng was a person, not a phone.

“I’m also very curious—how can someone be this lacking in tact?” Meng Yanxi came out in his ski gear, sneering. “I came skiing with my girlfriend. What business is that of yours?”

Not only did Meng Yanxi have tact, he was even better at speaking without a twinge of conscience. His gaze slanted over. “If I were you, I wouldn’t have come at all today.”

Lawyer Luo, who had been standing on the moral high ground just a moment ago, froze. His brain took two seconds to react before he blurted out, “Fuck—wait, Jin Zhao is really with you?”

Meng Yanxi was so annoyed he laughed. “Jin Zhao and I are heaven-made and earth-matched, a perfect union; us being together was a natural progression—lovers finally becoming a couple. What exactly are you shocked about?”

Luo Heng: “……”

Perhaps he was shocked that President Meng was so cultured—managing to use four idioms in a single short sentence.

If there were an idiom competition, he would cast his vote for President Meng.

Lawyer Luo rubbed his nose and chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry, brother. It’s just that I hadn’t heard about it. I thought you were still, you know, stuck in that unrequited, ambiguous stage—needed your brother here to help create some atmosphere.”

Meng Yanxi tugged at the corner of his lips and reminded him, “Didn’t I post it on Moments already? November 19—one-one-one-nine, forever and ever.”

Luo Heng: “……”

Fine. Not only could President Meng use idioms—he could coin them too.

Meng Yanxi: “Didn’t I already say that was my girlfriend’s dress? Girlfriend—do you understand what that means? Oh right, looking at you, finding a partner must be pretty hard. Not understanding it is your karmic reward.”

Luo Heng was practically numbed by his poison. It was only because of the disparity in combat power that he didn’t rashly make a move and beat him up.

But once Lawyer Luo’s killing intent rose, the attack power of his mouth was formidable too. “No, Meng Yanxi—don’t you know how much you love showing off like a peacock, indulging in one-sided wishful thinking? You posted just that one Moment—there wasn’t even a person in it, just a piece of cloth. Oh right, and those hands of yours that you think are peerless beauties. Who knows whether you were showing off fabric or showing off your hands? Girlfriend? Didn’t see your girlfriend posting any Moments with you either.”

Meng Yanxi: “……”

All these years, the lethality of Meng Yanxi’s mouth had been plain for all to see. It was almost always him wounding others; he himself never got hurt—except for today, which was the lone exception.

He actually got hurt by Luo Heng.

He fell silent for a second, then picked up his final weapon and fought back stubbornly: “My girlfriend liked it.”

Luo Heng: “I liked it too. Am I also your girlfriend?”

This mutual slaughter ultimately ended with Luo Heng being viciously kicked out by Meng Yanxi.

Outside the door, Luo Heng cursed Meng Dog.

Meng Yanxi: Since you’re already a dog, what’s there to talk about humanitarian spirit?

Jin Zhao finished changing into her ski gear, but Si Tian still hadn’t come out. On the lobby sofa, Meng Yanxi and Luo Heng had already changed; the two sat far apart, each with their heads down, looking at their phones.

Sensitive yet not quite sensitive, Jin Zhao noticed that her boyfriend didn’t seem to be in a very good mood and suspected it was because he’d argued with Luo Heng.

The moment she stepped out of the elevator, Meng Yanxi lifted his eyes and looked over.

His girlfriend was fair and soft, her ski outfit oversized. The taro purple and cheese white color scheme made her look like a soft, squishy glutinous rice ball—sweet and fragrant. He kind of wanted to take a bite.

He stayed seated and extended his hand toward her.

Jin Zhao walked over on her own.

The hotel had the air conditioning on—at least twenty-seven or twenty-eight degrees. Jin Zhao felt a bit warm; her ski jacket wasn’t zipped all the way up.

Meng Yanxi’s gaze lingered on her chest, at the open part of the zipper. Inside was a milky-white thermal top.

Noticing that Luo Heng in the distance had already looked over, she didn’t even know why she was feeling guilty. It just felt like being clingy in front of others wasn’t great. He had his hand extended toward her, but she didn’t take it. She simply stood in front of him and explained in a particularly proper manner, “It’s hot here. I’ll zip it up once we’re outside.”

Meng Yanxi glanced at his hand hanging in midair, said nothing, and withdrew it as he stood up.

There was a twenty-centimeter height difference between them. The moment he rose, the sense of pressure followed; even the look in his eyes seemed to turn forceful in an instant.

“We’re going out now. Zip it up,” he said.

Jin Zhao felt either way was fine. She had just lowered her head when the man’s long fingers moved faster than she did. One hand held the hem of her jacket; the fingers of the other pinched the zipper.

“Zzzip—”

This was the ski outfit Meng Yanxi had prepared. Jin Zhao didn’t know much about sports brands; she only felt that the quality was very good. The zipper was smooth, even the sound clean.

He pulled it all the way up.

The collar of the ski jacket could cover half her face. When it reached the top, the slightly cool zipper, along with Meng Yanxi’s fingers, brushed against her chin. Jin Zhao naturally lifted her head.

At the same time, a shadow fell before her eyes. The man bent down and kissed her lips.

The scent of cold mountain pine and mist flooded in together with his kiss, and Jin Zhao’s eyes widened instantly.

Widening her eyes along with her was Si Tian, who had just stepped out of the elevator.

She had merely taken a work call and come down a moment later. She hadn’t expected that the instant the elevator doors opened, this would be the scene greeting her.

It couldn’t be said to be unattractive—handsome man and beautiful woman, the cool guy using the excuse of zipping a jacket to suddenly ambush the sweet girl, a sugary tug-of-war.

But still—kind of shocking.

Just as shocked as Si Tian was Luo Heng, who stood to the side pretending not to look—not looking, not looking—yet still couldn’t help watching the entire thing.

He opened his mouth in shock, and couldn’t help cursing again in his heart: Meng Yanxi, that dog!

Because of Meng Yanxi’s sudden kiss, when the group later took the cable car up to the ski slopes, Si Tian and Luo Heng consciously didn’t go with them. They no longer ignorantly played the role of light bulbs, glowing and radiating.

The two fell a step behind the little lovebirds and got on the cable car behind them.

As soon as the cable car doors closed, the two-person gossip squad, who had been desperately holding it in without making a sound, erupted simultaneously with a loud, “Holy shit!”

Luo Heng had at least already had a round of mutual slaughter with Meng Yanxi and could be considered to have known some of the inside story in advance. Si Tian, on the other hand, was completely stunned. Tugging on Luo Heng’s ski outfit, she asked in disbelief, “They’re actually together?”

Realizing the words were ambiguous, she immediately corrected herself: “I mean, I know that with Meng Yanxi’s beast-in-human-skin dog nature, and all those endless tactics of his, Zhaozhao was bound to be eaten alive by him sooner or later—it was only a matter of time. But I always thought that with Zhaozhao being so calm and unruffled, Meng Dog would at least have to suffer and endure for a very, very long time. Who knew he’d succeed this quickly? Then that New Year’s Eve night…”

Thinking of how Jin Zhao hadn’t replied to her messages for a whole day and night that time, and how Meng Yanxi had also ignored Luo Heng for a whole day and night, and then linking it to a certain possibility… and then thinking of all the messages she’d kept bombing over—Si Tian slapped a hand over her own face.

She had even complained that Jin Zhao’s superior was finding all sorts of ways to torment her, making her so exhausted. What the hell kind of superior was that? It was probably Meng Yanxi, that dog!

And afterward, she’d even teamed up with Luo Heng, the two idiots, smugly thinking they were matchmaking for someone else.

Of course, Si Tian didn’t admit this was her own problem. Blaming Luo Heng for being too stupid was the right move.

She shot him a sideways glance and, without the slightest psychological burden, dumped the blame on him: “Look at you—just look at the kind of things you’ve been doing!”

Luo Heng: “?”

But Luo Heng was also someone with no bottom line. To save face, he insisted, “I don’t know what you were thinking, but I knew a long time ago. I came willingly to be the one following along taking photos.”

“How did you know?” Si Tian asked in disbelief.

If Zhaozhao had told Luo Heng and not told her, she would really be heartbroken.

Luo Heng lifted his eyelids slightly and said, hurting himself eight hundred points, “Didn’t Meng Yanxi post on Moments?”

Si Tian: “?”

Si Tian went quiet for two seconds, finally recalling that peacock-display-like Moments post, and asked in shock, “On your birthday? No—wait, I thought he was being self-indulgent again! Who knew this time it was real!”

Luo Heng: Exactly! Who knew this time it was real!

Light snow was falling on the mountain, and wind and snow swept continuously outside the cable car.

Jin Zhao, however, felt a little hot. She hadn’t even started skiing yet and already felt like she was sweating.

She’d been teased into blushing by Meng Yanxi earlier. The cable car had gone halfway up, and the heat in her face still hadn’t faded.

Even though he’d only brushed against her lips and lingered for two or three seconds, it had been in the hotel lobby, with so many people watching—aside from Luo Heng and Si Tian, there were hotel staff, and possibly other guests. Of course she’d be embarrassed.

And Meng Yanxi, as expected of him, had skin thick enough. He was already calmly fiddling with his phone on his own.

Looking out through the cable car’s transparent window, endless mountains and rivers stretched out, all clad in silver.

Meng Yanxi took photos of the scenery for a bit, then photos of her, then pulled her hand to take more.

Jin Zhao didn’t remember Meng Yanxi liking to take photos; in fact, that seemed to be the case—he barely updated his Moments at all.

She didn’t understand why he’d suddenly started snapping photos nonstop, and even started while still on the cable car. She asked sincerely, “Shouldn’t you wait until we’re actually skiing to take pictures?”

Meng Yanxi lowered his head and deleted a few photos that hadn’t turned out very well, gave a vague “Mm,” and said, “I’ll take more later. Take a lot.”

He wasn’t very satisfied with his own photography skills. Afraid Jin Zhao would dislike them, he selected and deleted, and very quickly had deleted all the photos.

He turned his head and asked her, “Do they sell drones on the mountain?”

Jin Zhao: “?”

Meng Yanxi didn’t look like he was joking at all. His expression was extremely serious. “A DSLR would work too. Phone photos don’t look good.”

Jin Zhao was bewildered. “Why do they need to look very good?”

Wasn’t everyone’s photography skill about the same? Just snap a few casually and that was it.

Meng Yanxi lifted his gaze from the phone screen and quietly looked at her.

He seemed to be waiting for her to figure it out on her own. Unfortunately, he once again overestimated his girlfriend. In his girlfriend’s eyes, there was only a vast stretch of white snow.

Helpless, he said, “To post on your Moments.”

Why post on Moments?

Jin Zhao’s temperament had always been detached; she hadn’t posted much on Moments even before, let alone now that she was a university teacher. Her superiors would even say in daily life to post on Moments as little as possible. It wasn’t forbidden—just try to restrain the urge to share.

Of course, her urge to share didn’t need restraining at all.

Jin Zhao subconsciously wanted to ask. But when she met Meng Yanxi’s look of “don’t ask anymore—if you do, I’ll really be hurt,” she had a sudden flash of understanding and quickly shut her mouth.

But it was already too late.

Those peach-blossom eyes rarely carried a hint of coquettishness, and also a trace of fragility. Meng Yanxi asked softly, “Am I that embarrassing to show?”