In the icy, snow-covered world, the warmth in his palm burned against her skin, like the only source of heat.

The warmth traveled from the nerve endings at her wrist to her brain — an incredibly gentle touch — yet for some reason, Tao Zhi trembled slightly.

She turned her whole body around. Her downcast eyes lifted a little, her mind turning slowly, piece by piece, trying to understand what he meant by those words.

After several years apart, he hadn’t changed at all — his directness was still clean and sharp, just like that time years ago, when he had sensed her feelings for him and asked that straightforward question.

Once she was certain she hadn’t been imagining things back then, she smiled a little. “Ever since high school, no matter how late I went home, I’ve always walked the road at night by myself.”

Jiang Qihuai loosened his grip on her fingers.

“Later, there was someone who accompanied me for a short while, but that’s already in the past. Jiang Qihuai, I took your advice and walked forward,” Tao Zhi’s voice was calm, without any emotion. “You shouldn’t keep looking back, either.”

The strength in his hand holding her wrist was gone. Tao Zhi gently pulled her hand back and glanced at the car that had been waiting by the roadside for a while.

She turned and walked toward it, never looking back.

When she sat in the back seat, the door closed with a loud bang. The driver confirmed her number with her.

Tao Zhi gave a soft “mm.” Only when she spoke did she realize that her voice was already tinged with a choke.

She didn’t turn back. She was afraid that if she looked at him even once, all her resolve would crumble.

She hadn’t been waiting for Jiang Qihuai to come back.

She hadn’t even thought she would see him again.

She hadn’t dated anyone in college simply because she hadn’t met anyone she liked.

After graduation, she hadn’t developed relationships beyond friendship with any man — not because she couldn’t, but because she was busy, and it felt troublesome.

The boy she’d liked in her youth had been nothing more than a beautiful and absurd dream. It was enough that it had once dazzled her years — when a dream ends, one should return to reality.

Tao Zhi had thought that was all there was to it.

But why was it that, upon seeing him again — in that instant her eyes met his — fireworks still burst open inside her chest, blossoming in the dark?

Why did hearing his voice, or feeling his touch, or the warmth that passed between them make her eyes sting, as though they had been soaked in warm water, until she could no longer control it?

It wasn’t until the car had driven far away that she turned her head and looked back through the rear window.

Jiang Qihuai was still standing where she’d left him, motionless. In the vast white snow, his tall, lean figure was stretched long and lonely under the warm glow of the streetlights.

Tao Zhi lowered her head, covering her eyes with her hand. Silent tears slipped through her fingers and fell into her palm.

Tao Zhi had never thought Jiang Qihuai had done anything wrong.

After growing up, after seeing and understanding more of the world, she realized clearly that, given their temperaments, the two of them had been destined to walk different paths.

Jiang Qihuai had always been a cautious perfectionist.

The environment he had grown up in made him habitually think through the consequences before acting.

He wouldn’t irresponsibly take her down a road that even he himself had no confidence in or direction for.

They had been too young back then — both of them were. They had no way to solve anything. Objectively speaking, Jiang Qihuai’s choice at the time had been the right one.

He had sent her back onto the safe and steady road.

But Tao Zhi was the kind who refused to accept fate.

She hadn’t wanted to think of the outcome first.

Even if the road ahead was full of thorns, even if she would end up bloodied all over, she had wanted to charge forward with him.

He wasn’t wrong.

He had only underestimated how much she liked him, that was all.

That night, Tao Zhi did not sleep peacefully.

Her mind was packed full of messy, incoherent dreams—someone’s voice, cool and even, was reciting tender verses of poetry; someone’s figure passed through classrooms with yellowed curtains fluttering, overlapping with the present; someone, under the narrow desk in the dark, held her hand and said, For our, Zhizhi.

When she startled awake, she couldn’t remember any of it.

Sunlight seeped through the gaps in the curtains, thread by thread, into the bedroom.

Tao Zhi propped herself up from the bed, rubbed her aching head, and went to the bathroom to take a shower.

The warm water washed away the haze of sleep.

When she came out wrapped in a bathrobe, her phone was buzzing on the bed.

Tao Zhi grabbed a towel, ran a hand through her dripping hair, walked over, and bent down to answer the call.

The moment she picked up—

“What are you doing!! I called you three times already, don’t tell me you’re still not up? Do you know what time it is?”

Tao Zhi held the phone half an arm’s length away; even at that distance, she could hear Ji Fan’s roar: “Hurry up and get up already, it’s so late! The moment you’re not at home where someone’s watching you, you flip your days and nights upside down, huh? Anyway—it’s fine, we still have time for lunch. Get yourself ready and wait at home, I’ll come pick you up in a bit.”

Tao Zhi rolled her eyes.

This guy used to play games until four in the morning every single day, yet somehow he had the nerve now to lecture others about staying up late.

She casually tossed the towel onto the bed. “You’re back?”

“Yeah, just got off the plane.”

Ji Fan’s voice was loud, the faint sound of airport announcements drifting through.

After graduation, he and a few friends had co-founded an independent sportswear brand.

Every day he was busy running between factories, suppliers, investors, and fashion shows in various countries—flying all over the world, sometimes gone for ten days or half a month without a trace.

“Lao Wan came up with something fun this time in Spain. Once the draft’s done, I’ll send it over for a sample run,” Ji Fan said. “If it turns out good, you’ll do the photoshoot.”

Tao Zhi said bluntly, “No time.”

“Don’t be like that, come on. You’ve got the equipment at home, may as well use it,” Ji Fan dragged out his words. “Relax, I know your rates. I’ll make it worth your while.”

Hearing that, Tao Zhi felt a bit tempted. “What kind of benefit?”

“A fresh, handsome man!” Ji Fan said excitedly. “A foreign friend I just met in Spain—he’s an amateur photography enthusiast. When I mentioned you, he got super excited. Said he’d seen one of your exhibits and absolutely admires you.”

After two seconds of silence, Tao Zhi hung up.

She slowly dried her hair, blew it out, patted layer after layer of skincare onto her face, put on light makeup, and was choosing a lipstick when Ji Fan arrived.

Tao Zhi opened the door for him, blocked the entrance with two lipsticks in her hand, and asked, “Which color looks better?”

Even though Ji Fan now dealt with the fashion world every day, he still couldn’t tell the difference between women’s nearly identical lipstick shades. He pointed at one at random. “That one, suits you. The casing looks expensive.”

While he was talking, he squeezed past her into the apartment and glanced around the living room. “Where’s Fu Xiling?”

“It’s the weekend. She went home,” Tao Zhi said, carefully tracing her lips in front of the mirror by the entryway. She gave him a sidelong glance. “Your motive for coming here isn’t as simple as lunch, is it?”

“What motive, what lunch, I can’t drink, all right?” he muttered under his breath, then urged her, “Come on, are you done getting ready yet? Old Tao’s waiting at home.”

The place Tao Zhi lived now wasn’t far from home—if there was no traffic, it only took a little over ten minutes by car.

After picking up Tao Xiuping, Ji Fan turned on the navigation and drove toward the Chinese restaurant where they’d reserved a table.

When Tao Xiuping was young, he had worked too hard; now, he had become much more easygoing. Unless it was absolutely necessary, he rarely went on business trips. The moment he got into the car, he held his tablet and began watching a currently popular variety show—one where fathers watched their daughters date.

Several celebrity fathers sat in a studio, watching their daughters’ everyday interactions with their boyfriends and offering commentary on every little thing.

Tao Xiuping had become quite addicted to the show lately. He didn’t just watch; he liked to project himself into it, joining the fathers in giving his own opinions. Propping his arm on the car window, brows furrowed, he listened as one of the dads complained and agreed earnestly, “Indeed, that boy doesn’t seem reliable at all. Better break up soon.”

At a red light, Ji Fan leaned over to glance at the screen. “What’s so interesting about this show?”

Tao Zhi, holding her laptop and sorting through the photos from the previous shoot with the peony spirit model, replied without lifting her head, “It resonates. All the old men love watching this now.”

Tao Xiuping said leisurely, “My daughter and son—neither of them has a partner. Can’t I at least watch someone else’s kid date?”

“…”

Ji Fan immediately shut up. Tao Zhi tried her best to sink into the back seat, pretending she didn’t exist.

When they arrived at the Chinese restaurant, it was just noon. As Tao Zhi stepped out of the car, she saw Jiang Hesheng standing at the entrance.

When he saw her, the man smiled pleasantly and walked forward to greet Tao Xiuping.

Tao Zhi froze for a second, then turned her head toward Ji Fan, narrowing her eyes.

Ji Fan tossed his car keys to the valet, tilted his head to look at the sky, and whistled innocently.

It was a quiet, classically styled courtyard restaurant. They walked past the winding path and a small garden; at the entrance, two rows of bamboo flanked the way, and beyond them, one could faintly see the square wooden tables inside.

Tao Zhi and Ji Fan were walking at the back. Passing through the elegantly arranged corridor, she whispered, “What’s going on? Why is Jiang Hesheng here too?”

“I don’t know anything. I just did what Old Tao said,” Ji Fan whispered back. “And—it’s not just him.”

Tao Zhi didn’t have time to process what he meant.

The waitress in a cheongsam smiled as she pushed open the private room door. Inside sat a man.

When Tao Xiuping saw him, he smiled. “Old Jiang!”

Father Jiang looked up, laughing as he patted the table. “I was waiting so long my stomach’s about to cave in. Haven’t seen you in ages—come, sit!”

Tao Zhi: “…”

Even with her dullest reaction, she understood what was going on now.

Standing to the side, she obediently greeted, “Uncle Jiang.”

Father Jiang smiled in response. “Come, come, sit down. Take a look at the menu—see what you’d like to eat.”

Tao Zhi sat down beside Ji Fan. When she lifted her eyes, she met Jiang Hesheng’s gaze across the table. The man looked just as embarrassed; he reached up to rub his nose and gave a helpless little smile.

Tao Zhi sighed inwardly.

Tao Xiuping had long wanted to set her up with Jiang Hesheng. Their families knew each other well—familiar backgrounds, no surprises. The Jiang family had been doctors for three generations, and Jiang Hesheng himself was a top graduate of the Second Medical University. After completing his combined bachelor’s and master’s program, he now worked at the provincial hospital.

During the incident with Ji Jin, he had also run around and helped quite a lot.

While waiting for the food, Tao Zhi listened as the two old men engaged in an enthusiastic round of business flattery.

Father Jiang poured himself a cup of tea and said with a genial smile, “I heard Zhizhi is now a rising star in the photography world. Hesheng told me you even won some impressive award recently.”

“It was just a domestic water award,” Tao Zhi replied modestly.

Father Jiang chuckled and teased, “Having talent is a good thing. Young people should be a little arrogant.”

Ji Fan, always happy to stir the pot, chimed in, “My sister’s just the low-key type.”

Under the table, Tao Zhi silently but firmly stomped on his foot.

The meal passed with no one mentioning anything explicit, yet everyone knew perfectly well what was going on. Afterward, Ji Fan drove the two elders home. As they got into the car, Father Jiang added deliberately, “There’s a teahouse nearby. We old folks can’t keep up with your topics anyway—why don’t you young people stay and have a nice chat?”

Tao Zhi smiled politely as she saw them off, and when the car finally disappeared, she let out a long breath. “My face is sore from smiling.”

Jiang Hesheng looked at her with amusement. “Was it that bad?”

“Of course. I’ve got a cold-beauty reputation to maintain,” Tao Zhi said matter-of-factly. She turned to him in mild exasperation. “Dr. Jiang, when are you planning to find someone? My dad and yours keep trying to push us together. Aren’t you tired of it?”

“Hm?” Jiang Hesheng said with a smile. “How could that be tiring? Isn’t it kind of fun?”

He pointed to the nearby teahouse. “Want to go in and talk about something more youthful?”

Tao Zhi nodded. As they walked, she said, “I really can’t talk about youthful topics with you. The trauma you left me from all those tutoring sessions back then runs too deep. If we really ended up together, it’d feel like a teacher-student romance.”

Jiang Hesheng didn’t reply. The smile on his lips faded slightly.

Inside the teahouse, Tao Zhi watched him order a pot of Maojian tea, then asked the server for a large cup of rock sugar.

Jiang Hesheng watched as she used small tongs to drop several cubes into her cup and shook his head. “You’re ruining the original flavor of the tea.”

Tao Zhi took a sip. Even with the sugar, it was still bitter. She wrinkled her face and stuck out her tongue. “Old Tao loves drinking tea at home too. What’s so good about this stuff anyway?”

In that moment, her expression became unexpectedly vivid—childish, almost girlish—reminding him of her carefree teenage years.

Jiang Hesheng couldn’t help but laugh.

They’d known each other for many years, close enough to talk freely about anything—from his hospital patients to her travel photography anecdotes. They chatted easily about all kinds of things.

At one point, a figure passed by the corner of her eye, and at the same time, the gentle voice of the hostess at the door floated over: “Welcome. Just one guest?”

For some reason, Tao Zhi instinctively turned her head toward the entrance.

They hadn’t taken a private room; they were sitting at a table by the window on the first floor. From her seat, angled toward the door, she could see the man clearly.

Her voice caught in her throat.

The man was wearing a dark overcoat, a gray cashmere scarf loosely draped around his neck. His black hair was neat and clean, his lips pressed in a straight line, his eyes fixed on her without blinking.

Jiang Qihuai’s gaze lingered on her for a few seconds—then he saw Jiang Hesheng sitting across from her.

Just a moment ago, she had been laughing as she spoke, while Jiang Hesheng quietly listened, refilling her teacup as she talked.

One speaking, one listening—the atmosphere so harmonious, there was no room for a third person to step in.

Jiang Qihuai forced himself to suppress the urge to walk over without thinking. He tore his gaze away, crossed the lobby, and entered the first private room along the corridor.

Lu Jiacheng sat behind the tea table. Hearing the sliding door open, he said, “That was fast.”

Jiang Qihuai pressed his lips together, walked to the side, and sat down. He tossed his overcoat aside, and it landed with a dull thud. “How did you find this place?”

Lu Jiacheng raised an eyebrow. “Is there anywhere I can’t find someone? Didn’t I even dig you out from that hole-in-the-wall Japanese restaurant last time?”

“But today was pure coincidence,” he added, tapping the edge of the tea table with his fingertip. “This teahouse—my wife owns it.”

He paused for a moment, then gestured outward. “That private restaurant across the street belongs to Cheng Yi’s family. Just so you know, both families are having lunch there today. The kind with parents present. You’re welcome.”

Jiang Qihuai said nothing.

He lowered his eyes, the muscles in his jaw tightening slightly, as though he were restraining something.

Seeing him like this instantly lifted Lu Jiacheng’s mood, but he still said with mock sympathy, “Anyway, I took a look for you. Seems like nothing’s settled yet. No couple’s vibe between them at all.”

Before he even finished the sentence, Jiang Qihuai suddenly lifted his gaze.

Lu Jiacheng clicked his tongue. “Tsk. What’s with you guys? One of you quits a profitable manga editor job, the other abandons Wall Street—both of you acting like lovesick stalkers.”

He rested his arm on the tea table, leaned forward slightly, and said unhurriedly, “Here’s the thing, brother.”

Jiang Qihuai: “?”

“If you trust my—let’s say, extensive experience in having a blissful love life,” Lu Jiacheng said, “your brother here can give you a piece of advice.”

Jiang Qihuai: “…”