The air grew ambiguous for a fleeting moment.
Even though the New Year’s Eve breeze still carried a bone-chilling cold, Xu Yan felt inexplicably hot and tugged at the high-neck sweater that was irritating his throat. Holding his phone, his eyes darted around restlessly, unsure where to settle.
A soft chuckle came through the earphones, tinged with a magnetic, slightly electronic quality. Xu Yan’s body trembled faintly as if touched by an electric current, his ears warming slightly. He pinched his flushed earlobe and casually removed the right earpiece.
Letting out a long breath, Xu Yan calmly attributed his physical reaction to a faulty Bluetooth earphone.
He thought, it’s time to get a new pair.
“Just finished showering,” Ji Ran’s voice continued in his left ear. Noticing the electronic distortion had lessened, Xu Yan slowly shifted his gaze back to the phone screen.
Only Ji Ran’s face filled the screen now, one hand holding a towel as he dried his hair.
Xu Yan watched silently as Ji Ran busied himself with the towel. Ji Ran glanced at the camera but remained quiet, continuing to dry his hair.
An inexplicable, prolonged silence settled between them.
After watching Ji Ran dry his hair for a full minute on screen, Xu Yan couldn’t hold back any longer. His thin lips parted as he asked, “Is it allowed to shower on New Year’s Eve where you are?”
Ji Ran’s hand paused abruptly. He smiled helplessly at the screen. “I don’t pay attention to those things.”
“Oh,” Xu Yan replied, his tone sounding nonchalant. “Why did you suddenly video call me?”
“Did I disturb you?” Ji Ran lowered his head, his voice cool, yet carrying a hint of grievance at the end.
Before Xu Yan could respond, Ji Ran continued, “It’s been sixteen days of holiday, including tonight. You’ve only messaged me four times, and three of those were to ask for homework answers. Xu Yan, are we… still not that close?”
Ji Ran’s questioning left Xu Yan speechless. That was just how he was—his desire to share things with others dropped to its lowest during holidays. He rarely initiated contact with friends unless they messaged first. His message to Ji Ran tonight was purely out of frustration.
“That’s just how I am. I hardly even contact Qiu Muyang,” Xu Yan stated matter-of-factly, only to be choked by Ji Ran’s next words.
“Got it. Qiu Muyang is more important than me.”
Xu Yan thought Ji Ran’s words sounded a bit sour, oddly reminiscent of the bickering elementary school kids often seen at the school gate. Amused, he retorted, “Ji Ran, you’re so childish. You’re no different from those kids who always say ‘So-and-so and I are best friends forever.’”
Ji Ran replied softly, “So, are you feeling better now?”
“You…” Xu Yan paused. “Were you deliberately trying to make me laugh just now?”
“Sort of. I’m not good at telling jokes.”
“So you just said something sour on purpose, huh?”
After speaking, Xu Yan felt so hot he kept tugging at his collar, completely unaware of the angle of his phone. He held it rather low, allowing Ji Ran a glimpse of his faintly visible collarbone through the screen.
“Is it hot in your hometown?” Ji Ran asked, his gaze fixed on the collar Xu Yan kept pulling.
“No, it’s not. I don’t know what’s wrong tonight—this sweater just feels uncomfortable.” Xu Yan raised his phone again and looked at Ji Ran, who was shirtless, with surprise. “I wanted to ask you the same thing. Is your hometown in the Southern Hemisphere?”
Ji Ran stared at the screen, looking into Xu Yan’s innocent eyes, unable to tell whether Xu Yan was genuinely asking a question or being sarcastic. He had no choice but to explain, “My hometown is in Beicheng, and we have the heating on at home.”
Xu Yan nodded. “Then, aren’t you staying up with your family?”
Ji Ran stood up with his phone and leaned against the window, glancing down at the garden on the first floor. A few younger members of the Ji family were busy building a snowman. A faint, warm yellow light seemed to spill into the garden, casting a seemingly cozy glow over the snow-covered yard.
The warm yellow light likely came from the windows of the first-floor hall. Ji Ran guessed his grandfather was still lecturing Ji Chen about his divorce.
Just like Xu Yan, his own home was also filled with chaos on New Year’s Eve.
“They don’t need me,” Ji Ran said, watching the children who had just finished building the snowman run back into the first floor to grab sparklers and set off fireworks. Without thinking, he asked, “Have you set off any fireworks?”
“No, I’m too lazy to do it alone.” As soon as Xu Yan finished speaking, a head suddenly popped out from behind the old rolling shutter door on the first floor. Xu Yao, holding a large bundle of sparklers, hopped over to Xu Yan. “Brother, let’s set off fireworks!”
Xu Yao’s sweet voice echoed in Xu Yan’s earphones. Ji Ran couldn’t see who it was, but judging by the voice, it was probably a child. The tension he had felt moments earlier immediately eased.
Just a kid, no big deal.
“Ji Ran, um…” Xu Yan glanced at Xu Yao, who was tugging at his sleeve with hopeful eyes, and decisively chose to leave Ji Ran hanging for a moment. “I’ll talk to you later.”
But the video call wasn’t disconnected.
Ji Ran sighed as he watched the constantly shifting images on his phone screen.
However, perhaps because the sound quality of Xu Yan’s earphones wasn’t great, the sigh sounded more like a muffled groan to Xu Yan. Startled, Xu Yan shook his head and took the sparklers Xu Yao handed him.
“Set them all off?” Xu Yan tilted his head and asked Xu Yao softly.
“Hmm?” The sound of Ji Ran’s voice in his earphones was impossible to ignore, and Xu Yao beside him, nodding eagerly with hopeful eyes, was equally hard to disregard. For a moment, Xu Yan felt torn between the two.
“Wait, I’ll set off fireworks for you,” he said decisively, adopting a compromise. This statement was meant not only for Xu Yao but also for Ji Ran in his earphones.
“Okay.”
Soon, the camera on Ji Ran’s phone showing Xu Yan’s view flipped over. Tiny yet dazzling fireworks bloomed one after another in the darkness.
Brilliant, small, and fleeting.
But Ji Ran unexpectedly remembered them for a long time.
“That’s all. Time to go upstairs and sleep.” After setting off the fireworks with Xu Yao, Xu Yan urged her to go upstairs. Xu Yao pouted and whined, “Brother, stay with me. It’s so noisy upstairs, I can’t sleep.”
Helplessly, Xu Yan picked up Xu Yao with one arm and headed toward the second floor, but he kept talking to Ji Ran. “When are you planning to sleep?”
Xu Yao was about to answer when she realized her brother wasn’t asking her. She immediately covered her mouth with her small hand.
Ji Ran replied, “I’ll stay up with you.”
“As if I’m not already staying up with you.”
“Yeah, lucky to have you.”
Unconsciously, Xu Yan chatted with Ji Ran for a long time—so long that Xu Yao fell into a deep sleep on the bed, so long that his father, Xie Feng, stormed out in a rage, slamming the door behind him, and so long that the long-quiet mountainside grew lively again.
“Bang—”
A sharp sound rang out, and the static in his earphones crackled loudly.
“Xu Yan, check your phone.”
“Oh.” Xu Yan responded, lowering his head. On the phone screen, Ji Ran stood by the balcony in a black short-sleeved shirt, smiling gently as he counted down toward the camera, raising his fingers one by one: “Three, two, one.”
In an instant, an arc shot up into the sky behind Ji Ran, exploding brilliantly in a dazzling display of colors—vibrant purples, fiery reds, and shimmering silver.
“Xu Yan, Happy New Year.”
Xu Yan stared blankly at his phone until the brilliant sky behind Ji Ran faded back into darkness. Only then did he snap out of it and reply, “Happy New Year.” As soon as he sent the message, he immediately hung up the video call.
Just now, seeing Ji Ran illuminated by the fireworks, his heart had inexplicably skipped a beat.
As the temperature warmed, withered branches began sprouting new buds.
Ever since New Year’s Eve, Xu Yan had developed a strange urge to share things with Ji Ran.
If a relative criticized him during a visit, he’d vent to Ji Ran. If Xu Yao got bitten by a vicious dog in the village, he’d tell Ji Ran. Even when he returned to Lilin and saw the withered trees in the neighborhood sprouting new leaves, he’d snap a photo and send it to Ji Ran.
[Ji Ran]: Back in Lilin?
Xu Yan glanced at the message but didn’t reply, casually slipping his phone into his pocket.
Dragging his suitcase behind him, Xu Yan wandered aimlessly through the neighborhood, feeling lighthearted. He had returned to Lilin ahead of schedule. Gu Xiaorou and Xu Guodong were still taking Xu Yao around their hometown to visit relatives, but he couldn’t stand those chaotic relatives any longer, so he bought a train ticket and returned early.
Now, even the fluttering flyers on the neighborhood’s worn, mottled walls seemed pleasing to him.
Xu Yan reveled in the air of freedom, but his phone kept vibrating.
Without even thinking, Xu Yan knew it was Ji Ran. He raised an eyebrow and answered the call.
“Read but didn’t reply?” Ji Ran sounded amused, though his voice remained soft.
“No. I just got back to Lilin and was busy unpacking.” Xu Yan found a bench in the neighborhood, sat down with his suitcase, and lied to Ji Ran without batting an eye.
“You did it on purpose,” Ji Ran called him out, then delivered a blow in his cool, composed tone: “School starts in seven days. Have you finished your homework?”
Xu Yan: “…”
Damn.
Xu Yan’s cheerful mood instantly evaporated. Annoyed, he retorted, “No, I haven’t. Did you call just to ask about my homework?”
Before Ji Ran could explain, Xu Yan muttered to himself, “Ji Ran, you’re so boring. Every time you call, it’s just about homework. If it weren’t for your nice voice, I would’ve hung up ages ago. You probably didn’t even look closely at the photo I sent you”
Ji Ran interrupted him in a low voice, “Yanyan, I’m back in Lilin today too.”
Xu Yan was so startled by the second half of the sentence that he didn’t even notice Ji Ran’s sudden change in address. Delighted, he exclaimed, “You’re back today too! Didn’t you say you were coming back the day after tomorrow?”
“I changed my ticket.”
To see you sooner.
“What time will you arrive in Lilin?” Xu Yan stood up from the bench, phone in hand, and began circling the bench unconsciously as he asked, “Are you alone? Or are you with your family?”
“Just me.”
I specifically argued with Ji Chen to escape back early.
“Oh, okay.” Xu Yan nodded repeatedly, but before he could ask another question, Ji Ran spoke up, “Xu Yan, at three o’clock this afternoon, Lilin West Station—can you come pick me up?”
Xu Yan let out an involuntary “ah,” his brain’s neural centers not yet fully processing Ji Ran’s words before his mouth eagerly blurted out, “Oh, sure.”
Over the phone, Ji Ran chuckled softly. “Mm, thanks. You know how it is—I’m timid and get scared being alone.”
That hint of vulnerability in Ji Ran’s voice stirred a fierce protective instinct in Xu Yan. Without hesitation, he agreed, not even bothering to pack his things before hastily hailing a taxi and rushing to the exit of Lilin West Station.
At three in the afternoon, Lilin West Station was bustling with crowds.
Yet, Xu Yan spotted Ji Ran at a single glance amidst the sea of people.
Dressed in a gray trench coat with a scarf wrapped around his neck, Ji Ran kept his head down, completely unaware of Xu Yan waving frantically at him from a short distance away.
Ji Ran’s obliviousness pushed Xu Yan to the edge. He called out into the crowd, “Ji Ran!”
Ji Ran instantly looked up. The ceaseless flow of people around him seemed to freeze at the press of a pause button—in that crowd, the only person he could see was Xu Yan, waving at him. He quickened his pace, rushing over and pulling Xu Yan into a tight embrace.
The biting cold wind swept toward them, mingling with the faint, clean scent of freesia laundry detergent lingering on Ji Ran’s clothes—it wrapped around Xu Yan’s senses, leaving him momentarily stunned. His fingers curled slightly, unsure of where to place his hands.
“I missed you so much.” Though the early spring chill still lingered, Ji Ran’s words unexpectedly warmed Xu Yan’s heart.
Without quite knowing why, Xu Yan uncurled his fingers and gently returned the embrace, holding Ji Ran close.
What’s wrong with a hug between good friends?