“Seeing winter, I also remember how I…”
Huo Kairan wasted not a single second. With his nose-tip flushed red from the cold, he directed Huo Lin to build four snowmen.
“The one on the left needs to be bigger, the one on the right smaller,” Huo Kairan gestured from inside the glass conservatory.
He would have loved to do it himself, but a certain tyrant had scowled and frowned, only handing him palm-sized snowballs to let him barely satisfy his urge to touch the snow.
Not long after Huo Kairan took the pitiful little snowball, the warmth of his palm melted it into icy water.
Seeing that Huo Lin had almost finished shaping the snowmen, he hurriedly brought out the carrots and colorful props Aunt Liu had left behind.
“Mom, Dad, Brother, and me.”
With his fingers tinged pink from the cold, he carefully “made up” the snowman embryos.
Though his movements weren’t particularly deft even a bit clumsy he accurately captured each person’s features: he stuck two small twists of twig-beard onto the snowman representing Huo Guoxun, and dabbed two blushes made from berry juice on the cheeks of Zhuang Jing’s snowman.
For Huo Lin’s snowman, he tied a “tie” made of small black stones on its chest, making even a snowman look meticulous.
Finally, for his own little snowman, he used two sesame seeds to dot the iconic little mole beneath its eyes.
Only then did Huo Lin understand why he had insisted on building four snowmen.
The family of four stood neatly in the center of the courtyard, forming a warm yet comical sight under the pale winter sky.
Huo Kairan bustled about, circling the four snowmen, adjusting details, then pulling out his phone and enthusiastically taking selfies with each one.
Just as the screen froze again, he keenly heard a soft click from the opposite side.
Huo Kairan looked up to see Huo Lin calmly slipping his phone back into his coat pocket.
He narrowed his eyes like a kitten spotting prey. “Did you just sneak a photo of me?”
Huo Lin remained unruffled. “I was taking pictures of the snowmen.”
Huo Kairan eyed him suspiciously. “Of the snowmen?”
Huo Lin: “I built them. Can’t I take pictures?”
“You definitely took an ugly photo of me!” Huo Kairan rose on his tiptoes, trying to peek at the phone.
As he lifted his feet, he slipped on the snowy ground, lost his balance, and stumbled into the man’s arms. At the same time, he caught a glimpse of the photo on the other’s phone screen
It showed him bending over, poking the cheek of the stern-faced “Huo Lin snowman” with a finger, laughing so hard that one ear of his kitten-patterned wool hat had drooped down.
Was this the expression on his face?
Huo Kairan froze for a moment.
Ever since his leg injury, everyone said his personality had changed drastically that he had become irritable, ruthless, and unpredictable.
But Huo Kairan had no complete memories from before the leg injury.
He didn’t know why he was injured, nor did he know what he had been like before.
His limited memories began with the lingering throbbing pain of the wound, one exhausting and terrifying surgery after another, and countless bowls of medicine even more bitter than coptis that seemed impossible to finish.
Gradually, he had accepted this narrative, believing this was simply who he was.
So… who was this person in the photo, laughing so brightly and radiantly?
He felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity.
“You delete it!” For some reason, Huo Kairan felt a bit embarrassed.
Huo Lin turned off the screen, slipped the phone into his pocket, and silently resisted refusing to delete it.
Hmph. Huo Kairan could do nothing about him. He turned around angrily, leaving only the back of his head adorned with knitted cat ears for Huo Lin to see, sulking on his own.
Suddenly, he caught sight of a familiar figure passing by the wrought-iron fence of the backyard.
“Brother Shiwei!” Huo Kairan immediately forgot about the earlier incident, calling out loudly and waving vigorously.
Song Shiwei seemed to have just returned from school, with several thick professional books tucked under his arm.
Hearing the call, he stopped, adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, and approached the small gate to the backyard. He asked politely and gently, “Xiao Ran. May I come in?”
“Come in, come in!” Huo Kairan quickly beckoned, pointing proudly at the row of snowmen. “Look! I made these snowmen!”
The man behind him said coldly, “I made them.”
Still angry, Huo Kairan pretended not to hear and happily pulled Song Shiwei inside.
Song Shiwei seemed to notice Huo Lin’s presence only then. He paused briefly before nodding politely in greeting. “Mr. Huo.”
His attitude was respectful yet distant.
Huo Kairan chattered away with Song Shiwei for quite a while, mostly about the beloved pets he had entrusted to the Song family whether they were eating on time, sleeping well, missing him, or if keeping them at Song Shiwei’s place was too much trouble.
Song Shiwei, with his exceptionally good temper, patiently answered each question. “It’s no trouble at all. My parents went to Antarctica this year and probably won’t be back anytime soon, so I’m home alone. They’re quite interesting and adorable they keep me company.”
Not only was he fascinated by studying silent ancient artifacts, but he had also unexpectedly discovered that he was quite interested in these living little creatures.
“Right, right!” Huo Kairan seemed to have found a rare kindred spirit, his eyes lighting up. He deliberately raised his voice, enunciating each word clearly, “They’re super adorable! Not. Ugly. At. All!”
Seeing how animated Huo Kairan was as he spoke, even the knitted cat ears on his head trembling along with his words, Song Shiwei couldn’t help but smile and reach out to ruffle his hair.
However, just as his fingertips were about to touch the soft strands, he clearly met the intensely oppressive gaze from behind the young man.
The outstretched hand paused almost imperceptibly in mid-air before subtly withdrawing.
Huo Lin stepped forward half a step, his expression stern, naturally inserting himself between the two. “Time’s up. Go back inside.”
Huo Kairan was still enjoying the conversation and clasped his hands together pleadingly. “Can I go to Brother Shiwei’s house first to see Xiao Bai? Just for a little while!”
Huo Lin replied, “No.”
Huo Kairan stomped his foot in frustration. But since his grand plan was still in progress, he couldn’t afford to truly offend Huo Lin. He pursed his lips and trudged toward the house, only to be grabbed by the back of his collar by Huo Lin and hoisted onto his back.
Once he had the boy securely on his back, Huo Lin nodded politely to Song Shiwei, who was still standing there, and said flatly, “We won’t see you off.”
Song Shiwei was momentarily stunned. “Ah, Oh! Okay, goodbye.”
Before he could even finish his farewell gesture, he could only watch the brothers’ figures gradually recede into the distance.
Huo Kairan lay sullenly on Huo Lin’s broad back, unable to hold back his complaint in the end: “Why won’t you let me go see Little White? You’ve had a problem with it from the start! Always saying it’s ugly! Now that you see I’ve sent it away, are you happy?”
Huo Lin carried him steadily through the snow, his voice clear and calm as it came from ahead: “Yes, I have a problem with it. I never agreed with you keeping it from the beginning.”
Huo Kairan suddenly remembered.
In truth, at first, their relationship hadn’t been as distant as it later became.
Huo Lin indulged him in many ways, but when it came to keeping pets, he wouldn’t budge an inch.
Huo Kairan was stubborn too, insisting on keeping one. The two had their most serious argument and cold war over it, and their relationship gradually grew distant.
Now, bringing up the old matter again, the air seemed to fill with the same tension as back then.
Huo Kairan: “I wasn’t bothering you!”
Huo Lin: “It’s too dangerous.”
Huo Kairan: “It doesn’t bite and it’s not poisonous, how is it dangerous?”
Huo Lin: “Can you guarantee it will never suddenly attack?”
Huo Kairan: “I can! I believe in it!”
“I don’t believe it. It has teeth, that’s a risk factor. Unless.” He paused, his voice turning cold and hard: “Unless all its teeth are broken and pulled out.”
Huo Kairan couldn’t believe it, his emotions so stirred he spoke without thinking: “You’re too cold-blooded!”
Huo Lin fell silent for a moment.
They had reached the eaves of the villa’s back door.
He gently set Huo Kairan down.
The two stood facing each other, separated by the cold, damp air.
As soon as Huo Kairan finished speaking, he seemed to realize he had gone too far, a flicker of regret crossing his face.
Huo Lin, as cold-blooded as he claimed, made his voice even colder and more unyielding: “You can do anything you want, but on one condition: you mustn’t hurt yourself, don’t put yourself in dangerous situations.”
Huo Kairan looked up, confused.
This seemed to be the second time Huo Lin had said something similar to him.
His not so bright mind slowly, bit by bit, began to turn.
After a long while, a belated conclusion finally surfaced.
“Are you worried about me?”
Huo Kairan suddenly raised his hand, revealing the red mark on the back of it.
The things Huo Lin found ugly the accidental burn scar and Little White, which might attack him.
“You’re concerned about me, right?” Huo Kairan seemed to understand something, staring straight at Huo Lin.
Huo Lin turned his head away, avoiding his probing gaze, his voice a bit tight: “Go inside.”
“No,” Huo Kairan leaned against the door, his shoes scuffing the ground, his gaze drifting to the snow still falling silently in the yard. “I haven’t apologized to you yet, I won’t go in.”
Huo Lin turned his gaze back, settling on his face.
“But you took my photo without permission, you should apologize to me too.” Huo Kairan added hesitantly, the tips of his ears turning slightly red. “So, it cancels out.”
Huo Kairan glanced at him awkwardly. “Is that okay?”
Huo Lin: “You’ve said everything there is to say.”
Huo Kairan let out a soft “hmph” from his nose. Neither of them moved, standing side by side under the warm eaves, sheltered from the swirling snowflakes, quietly watching the increasingly heavy snowfall in the courtyard.
After a long silence, Huo Kairan suddenly spoke, with a touch of poetic melancholy: “The snowman is built in the yard, but once winter passes, it melts away quickly.”
Huo Lin didn’t quite understand his younger brother’s often whimsical train of thought: “What are you trying to say?”
“I want to say.” Huo Kairan’s words lingered on the tip of his tongue for a moment
“Will we be together forever?”
Huo Lin answered almost without hesitation: “Mm.”
“What does ‘mm’ mean?”
“We will be together forever.”
Huo Kairan didn’t understand.
Why, even after receiving the answer he most wanted, he still felt unsatisfied.
Perhaps it was because Huo Lin had said it too lightly, too naturally, too matter-of-factly so effortlessly that it felt unreal, like a beautiful yet fragile bubble.
Or perhaps it was because, before this answer, there were actually many prerequisites, conditions, and constraints, making it seem hollow.
And Huo Kairan had long grown accustomed to imagining the worst possible outcome for everything.
“Brother, will you think of me when you see a snowman in the future?”
“Will you think of me when it snows?”
“Will you think of me when winter comes, too?”
He spoke with a smile, his expression fragile on his pale face, yet carrying a stubborn sense of dependence.
With each question, Huo Lin’s thoughts grew more tangled.
This sudden intimacy felt like a dream conjured up while leaning by the fireplace on a winter’s day.
Yet Huo Lin, at this very moment, selfishly wished for this dream to continue.