After He Yan’s reminder, Wen Xue focused her attention on the film.
This comedic New Year film was packed with hilarious moments, and she found herself laughing several times. The people in the front row were leaning close together, seemingly exchanging their viewing experiences in hushed tones. She unconsciously leaned forward slightly and turned her head to look at He Yan’s seat, only to freeze in surprise. While almost everyone was immersed in the screen’s story, he was the exception—in the laughter-filled theater, he was supporting his head with one hand, actually asleep…
He Yan couldn’t maintain a relaxed attitude to appreciate any film, whether high-quality, shoddily made, comedic, or tragic—he simply had no interest in any of them.
The theater was crowded, making it warm and cozy. The seats were relatively comfortable, and even the giggles from men, women, and children became hypnotic white noise in such an environment. He had intended to close his eyes and rest, but accidentally fell into a deep sleep.
He was exhausted.
His fatigue was no less than Wen Xue’s, but he had never shown it.
Wen Xue watched him quietly for a while, then gently shifted her gaze. This was the second time since arriving here that she had looked toward Mr. Eight.
Mr. Eight was happily sipping his milk tea, laughing so hard he was doubled over, when he suddenly sensed a gaze. He followed it and, in the dimly lit back row, locked eyes with Wen Xue—the woman who had made him fall head over heels in love and then quickly experience heartbreak just forty minutes earlier.
He involuntarily swallowed the milk tea in his mouth. Damn, his heart was racing again.
Wen Xue felt somewhat awkward.
She knew she was being a bit presumptuous. Earlier, when he had tried to strike up a conversation, she had ignored him. Now, if she asked him to switch seats or help drape the scarf over He Yan, wouldn’t that be too much?
Seeing her hesitate, Mr. Eight was startled for a moment and instinctively turned his neck to look at the man sitting on his other side. Noticing that this fearless warrior had actually dared to fall asleep while accompanying his girlfriend to a movie, he suddenly had an epiphany and lowered his voice to a whisper, “Want to switch seats?”
Her eyes lit up, and she asked softly, “Is that okay?”
“…Sure!” Mr. Eight immediately nodded, his heart aching even more. The good news was that the goddess was talking to him; the bad news was that she wanted to switch seats to be closer to her boyfriend.
Wen Xue breathed a sigh of relief and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re… you’re welcome.”
The two of them crouched low as they stood up and switched seats as quickly as possible. Just like that, Wen Xue quietly settled into the seat beside He Yan.
His breathing was shallow, and he was sound asleep.
The flickering screen light cast shadows across his tall, straight nose bridge.
He wasn’t afraid of the cold, but she worried he might catch a chill. If in the past she had thought of him as tempered steel forged through countless trials, then after spending this time together, she had come to realize he was actually an ordinary person. Though his willpower was tougher than anyone she had ever met, he was still an ordinary person who could get hurt and feel pain.
She unfolded the scarf, turned sideways, and gently draped it over his legs.
She didn’t know if it would help, but it would provide at least a little warmth.
Don’t catch a cold, don’t get sick.
After doing this, she felt somewhat relieved and turned her attention back to the screen, laughing along with the protagonist.The two-hour film was nearing its end when He Yan finally opened his eyes. Feeling stiffness in his neck and shoulders, he tried to stretch slightly, tilting his head to the side. Unexpectedly, he caught a faint, delicate fragrance. Casually lifting his gaze, he realized they were sitting very close—so close that the first thing he saw was her fair, smooth cheek.
He paused, surprised. When had she moved closer?
Wen Xue hadn’t noticed he was awake. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, likely captivated by the plot. She held a few pieces of popcorn in her hand, so absorbed that she forgot to eat them.
He Yan averted his gaze and noticed the fluffy scarf spread over his lap. Understanding dawned on him.
No wonder he had woken up feeling too warm.
As the film concluded, before the ending credits even began, many people were already standing up and heading out, rushing to their next screenings. The theater grew noisy and chaotic. Wen Xue stretched her neck, trying to see if there were any post-credit scenes, but found it difficult. Then she felt something on her leg and looked down to discover her scarf.
She froze, turning her head to see He Yan scrolling through his phone.
When had he woken up?
Just then, Mr. Eight beside them spoke up, drawing their attention. Holding an empty milk tea cup, he forced a faint smile and said, “Excuse me, could I get through?”
Wen Xue and He Yan simultaneously pulled their legs back to make space. After most of the audience had left and the aisle was less crowded, the two finally exited. He Yan walked ahead, with Wen Xue trailing a few steps behind. She watched as he pulled the movie ticket stubs from his coat pocket, about to toss them into a trash can, and urgently stopped him, “Give them to me.”
He Yan turned around at her voice, raising the stubs with a puzzled expression. “You want these?” he asked. The movie was over—why keep the tickets?
“Mm,” Wen Xue replied, stepping forward to take them. She carefully placed the two tickets together as if they were treasures and stored them in her bag. Noticing He Yan’s gaze, she smiled and explained, “I really enjoy collecting things like this.”
Movie tickets, attraction passes, train tickets—they were all memories she cherished.
Moreover, she wanted to give this particular movie a special meaning. For instance, it wasn’t just a New Year film; it was the first movie she had watched after losing He Heng.
He Yan fell silent.
Though he didn’t fully understand, seeing her treat the ticket stubs with such care made him raise an eyebrow in amusement. In a lighthearted tone, he asked, “Do you want to watch another one?”
Since they were already here, watching one movie or two or three made no difference to him.
As long as it made her happy.
Wen Xue zipped up her bag and shook her head. “No, thanks.”
She could already predict that if they watched another film, he would just fall asleep again. It might be tolerable in summer, but not in winter.
He Yan didn’t press further and led her to the parking lot to retrieve the car. By the time they emerged from the mall’s underground garage, the sky had darkened. Snow pellets pattered against the windshield, and the wipers worked incessantly. They were stuck in traffic for a while, and by the time they reached the Residential Building, it was already very late.
They had a quick, simple dinner. When Wen Xue started to clear the dishes, He Yan sternly tried to shoo her back to her room. With just a few bowls, he could wash them in no time.
But Wen Xue, who usually obeyed him without question, unexpectedly refused to leave this time. “No,” she insisted, “your hand hasn’t healed yet.”
He Yan was speechless. Only she would make such a fuss over a few blisters.
He gestured with his chin, urging her to go. “Stop arguing. It’s cold here—go back to your room.”Wen Xue felt a surge of irritation. She had made it perfectly clear to him—if he got infected, it would be serious, and he needed to go to the hospital—yet he completely disregarded it. In her frustration, she raised her voice, “Stop being annoying, He Yan!”
Why was he like this? Why didn’t he care at all about his own health?
He Yan froze, momentarily stunned by her blunt use of his full name.
With a stern expression, she pushed past him, snatched the dishcloth, and stood silently in front of the sink, washing dishes with a furious clatter. In the narrow kitchen, he stood stiffly to the side while she scrubbed away, perhaps fueled by her anger. The water that usually felt icy and biting today seemed to have no effect on her.
He Yan finally snapped out of it and took a step closer. “What did you just call me?”
Wen Xue kept her head down, her hands covered in soap suds, refusing to admit it. She muttered stubbornly, “You misheard. I didn’t say anything.”
He Yan let out an exasperated laugh.
Her temper was even worse than his. After finishing the dishes, she walked straight past him out of the kitchen without so much as a glance in his direction.
He Yan: “?”
What was that supposed to mean?
Was she angry because he tried to stop her from washing the dishes?
He paced back and forth in the kitchen, hands on his hips, questioning his life. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the old ginger Wan Nian had left in a small bamboo basket. The mountain path today had been unusually long, up and down, yet he felt completely fine, while her face had turned red from the cold. After a moment’s thought, he grabbed all the ginger, washed it, and soon the sound of chopping echoed from the kitchen.
Wen Xue returned to her room and stewed in silence for a while before taking out the movie ticket stub and tucking it into her green notebook.
The thick notebook was filled with many movie tickets.
Most of them were from cinemas near their university. She and He Heng both loved watching movies and would often hunt for cheap tickets. The movie theater was their most frequent date spot. She slowly sat down, lowering her gaze as she flipped through the tickets one by one. Emotions were like viruses floating in the air, and her resistance was weak now. The slightest misstep, and feelings of sadness and confusion would engulf her like a net, wiping away any happiness she had felt just moments before.
Her gaze wandered aimlessly, unable to settle, until a sudden flash of red caught her eye. She paused, her sluggish thoughts gradually returning to normal as she remembered—it was the red envelope, the New Year’s money He Yan had given her.
It was thick and bulging, almost bursting at the seams.
She reached out, pulled it from her bag, hesitated for a moment, then opened it. Focusing intently, she counted the bills one by one—eight thousand exactly.
…
Knock, knock, knock—
Wen Xue’s mind was completely occupied with how best to handle the money when the knocking interrupted her thoughts. As if caught doing something wrong, she hastily stuffed the red envelope under a cushion, double-checking to ensure He Yan at the door wouldn’t see it. Only then did she open the door, but remembering the earlier scene in the kitchen, she quickly wiped the smile from her face.
He Yan stood at the doorway holding a bowl. His eyes scanned her face, his tone slightly awkward. “Ginger soup to ward off the cold. Drink it.”
Wen Xue caught the pungent scent of ginger and instinctively wanted to retreat. Was this his revenge?
She wanted to say she had dressed warmly today and was sure she wouldn’t catch a cold, but the words died in her throat when she met his intense gaze. She obediently took the bowl. “I’ll drink it when it cools down a bit.”
“Fine.”He Yan knew she wouldn’t pretend compliance while acting otherwise. After giving brief instructions, he turned and left, leaving her staring at the full bowl of ginger tea with the tragic expression of a hero cutting off his own wrist.
Descending from the third floor to the second, He Yan ran into Nana and Wan Nian returning from their date. The sweet couple was holding hands. Just as they were about to pass each other, He Yan stepped down a few stairs, stopped and said, “By the way, there’s ginger tea in the kitchen. Remember to drink some.”
He had originally intended to make just one bowl, but accidentally lost control of the measurements and ended up cooking nearly half a pot.
After speaking, he didn’t wait to see their reactions and hurried back to his room, his footsteps gradually fading away.
The young couple looked at each other, wondering if they were hearing things. Dazedly, they went up to the third-floor kitchen and lifted the lid to find a pot of steaming ginger tea generously prepared. Nana felt extremely complicated emotions, sighing with emotion, “Brother Yan can be really wonderful sometimes.”..”
Although this was a universally acknowledged truth, everyone here knew He Yan was a reserved person. At this moment, facing this pot of ginger tea, anyone who saw it would have to admit this was the perfect example of a tough guy’s tenderness.
Wan Nian said movedly, “Brother Yan must feel sorry that we didn’t return to our hometowns for the New Year.”
Nana sniffled, “Honestly, it’s so cold today. Brother Yan really thought of everything.”
Each scooped a bowl of ginger tea and drank it gulping noisily, hissing from the spiciness, yet still supervising each other with their eyes. Even if they were to die from the spice, burst from fullness, or risk their lives today, they were determined to finish this entire pot of loving ginger tea.
Meanwhile, Wen Xue curled up on the sofa, holding the bowl and sipping lightly, wrinkling her nose from the spiciness. She drank very slowly, occasionally pausing to search for videos on weaving safe buttons on her phone, carefully studying each step. Slowly but surely, she finished the entire bowl of ginger tea. Just as he had said, it really did ward off the cold. After drinking it, her body began to warm up, and even the tip of her nose beaded with sweat.
After some thought, she switched to his chat window and proactively composed a message: [Finished drinking.]
He replied quickly, as if he had been waiting: [Apply the medicine.]
Wen Xue was slightly taken aback, then smiled with both eyes and brows: [^^]
This time he replied after several minutes, as if reluctantly compromising: [Hmm]