After two years of not seeing Shu He, Jing Yi sat expressionless in his wheelchair. Before he could pretend to be cold and say anything, the woman had already walked past him with a calm expression.
No pity, no hatred, no disappointment — just looking through him as if he were a stranger.
Everything around her seemed muted. Shu He felt that familiar sensation again—like being in a bottomless abyss with only herself remaining, lost and adrift.
Noticing her change in expression, Tang Yun asked politely, “What’s wrong?”
Shu He shook her head and composed herself. “Sorry Tang Yun, I need to leave now. Something’s come up.”
She hurried out. Yao Qing and the others were waiting for her to go home together.
Seeing no one behind her, Shu Hua was visibly displeased. Before he could say anything, Shu He told Yao Qing, “Mum, I have something urgent to take care of. I need to go back.”
They both realised then that by “go back,” she didn’t mean home.
Shu Hua said firmly, “You’ve only been back a few days. Besides, it’s late now. Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow.”
Shu He’s face turned cold. As she was about to respond, Yao Qing grabbed her hand and persuaded, “Hehe, it really is too late now.”
“Your father bought lots of groceries to cook for you tomorrow. You’ve rarely come back to visit…”
Shu Hua stood nearby with a huff but didn’t deny it.
The rift between the three of them was deep. Yao Qing was caught in the middle. Shu He understood her good intentions—these past two years, she had been trying her best to make amends.
But Shu He still pulled her hand away.
“Sorry, Mum, but I have something important I must get back for.”
“How can you be so disobedient? A few years on your own and you think you can do whatever you want?” Shu Hua scolded her.
The cold wind blew as Shu He calmly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Haven’t I been obedient enough?”
Under the dim streetlight, her eyes held no warmth, as if looking at strangers.
“When you told me to stay put, I didn’t move. Weren’t you the ones who didn’t want me before? Why are you trying to control me now?”
Yao Qing’s eyes instantly reddened. So did Shu Hua’s, though he kept his face stern. “That was so many years ago. Why can’t you let it go? We’re still your parents.”
Shu He suddenly smiled and tilted her head. “But during those twenty years when you didn’t want me and didn’t love me, I grew up by myself.”
“Now you suddenly remember you’re my parents. Don’t you think it’s too late?”
They were both speechless. Shu He didn’t want to say more. She composed herself and said to Yao Qing, “I’ll message you when I arrive, Mum. I need to go now.”
With that, she turned and left. Her slender figure melted into the darkness, not once looking back.
—
Uncle Yu’s appearance made Jing Yi lower his hands. The wheelchair stopped on the dark marble floor until he came to the front.
Uncle Yu sighed inwardly and moved behind him. “Young Master, the master is waiting for you.”
He didn’t ask if he was going out or where he was heading, because today, there was only one place he could go.
Jing Yi was helped into the car. From start to finish, the man sitting on the other side never once glanced at him.
He lowered his eyes, fingertips digging into his palms, yet he couldn’t feel any pain.
The car drove smoothly and quickly along the road. In the suffocating silence, Jing Ze Liang’s voice was ice-cold: “Do you know what to say at your mother’s grave later?”
Jing Yi’s throat moved with difficulty. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse: “…I know.”
Jing Ze Liang said nothing more. Jing Yi slowly and stiffly raised his eyes. His empty gaze looked out the window, as if only a shell of himself remained.
At Ren Yin Yue’s grave, Jing Ze Liang didn’t make him kneel. If she were still alive, she wouldn’t have wanted him to kneel either.
The cold wind stung his face, but Jing Yi seemed numb to it. He bent slightly forward, the hand holding the incense deathly pale.
“Mum.” His eyelashes trembled as he spoke slowly and painfully: “It’s Xiao Lin.”
“I’ve come… to see you.”
After the numb, obedient ceremony, Jing Ze Liang’s gaze fell on his thick curly hair. He reprimanded: “Xiao Lin shouldn’t have permed his hair. Next time we meet, I expect you to have it fixed.”
“…..”
Jing Yi returned home by seven.
He entered the house without turning on the lights. It was pitch dark, with only the faint sound of wind howling against the windows.
In the cold, gloomy darkness, a pale light appeared, falling on the man’s pallid face.
Looking at the messages with no replies, he blinked his dry eyes in confusion.
She hadn’t come back… He was alone again.
If she didn’t come back… then so be it.
Nobody wanted him anyway, right?
……
On her way back, Shu He received a message from Liang Xu.
Liang Xu: [He’s back.]
The weight on her heart lifted slightly. She switched to her shop account, where she saw several notifications next to his familiar avatar.
Ten hours ago, he had sent messages and even made voice calls, but she hadn’t been logged into that WeChat account then.
Jing Yi: [Sister, where did you go?]
Jing Yi: [I was wrong. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you. Please don’t be angry, okay?]
Shu He barely hesitated before calling him back, but he didn’t answer.
An hour later.
Shu He stepped out of the lift. Standing at the door, she didn’t go in immediately, but continued messaging him.
Shu He: [Are you home? I’ve forgotten the password and didn’t bring my key.]
Her excuse was obviously flimsy, but he didn’t reply. She decided to send voice messages, several in a row. Shu He frowned—what if he’d fainted?
Just as she was about to enter the code, the door slowly opened from inside with a beep.
Shu He walked in straight away. The home was empty with no sign of him.
She went directly to the studio door and knocked twice. Still no answer.
Sensing something was wrong, she remembered there was a spare key in the drawer. As she went to get it, her phone vibrated.
Jing Yi: [I’m not dead.]
Shu He stared at these few words, reading them repeatedly. The cold white light fell on her beautiful face as she typed expressionlessly: [Okay, but tell me before you die. As your flatmate, I should at least have the right to know.]
After sending the message, his name showed “typing,” then after a long while, it stopped. No further reply came.
She expected to see him at the coffee shop the next day, but he didn’t show up.
Not only that, Shu He didn’t see him for two days straight. He had shut himself in his room and hadn’t come out.
She sat at the dining table, a washed carrot in front of her.
The carrot had fallen from the snowman and been left on the balcony for a long time, with no one picking it up.
Shu He recalled what Liang Xu had told her.
“I just remembered, the day before yesterday was his mother’s death anniversary.”
“In that car accident, he survived, but his mother died.”
After a while, Shu He thought of something and sent him a photo from her phone: [Too ugly. Not as nice as the ones you used to make.]
When Jing Yi received the message, he hadn’t slept for two days.
His eyes were dry and painful. He sluggishly opened WeChat. In the photo, the snowman was almost blindingly white.
The little snowman he’d made a few days ago—she’d seen it and even taken a photo.
As for what she said about his previous snowmen… Jing Yi lowered his eyes numbly, silently defending himself: if not for his legs, he would have made it even better than before.
The first snowman he made for Shu He was in their second year together.
Shu He rarely drank, but that day, she became somewhat tipsy.
When drunk, she was neither loud nor troublesome. She just sat quietly, holding a bottle.
“Jing Yi,” she raised her face, looking at him through her haze, and suddenly smiled. “Make me a snowman.”
“A snowman?” He was confused. Whenever they passed people making snowmen, she always seemed indifferent.
Besides, she hated the cold and particularly disliked snowy days.
“Mm.” She nodded, her usually cool eyes misty with drunkenness. “Tomorrow’s the last day. If we see a snowman, we’ll be safe and sound.”
Jing Yi chuckled, teasing her: “Where did you hear that fairy tale? Are you just trying to make me work?”
But she might not have understood him. With light flush on her cheeks, she hugged the bottle, muttering like someone bewitched: “Make a snowman, and we’ll all be safe and sound.”
When Shu He woke the next day with a splitting headache, Jing Yi had just returned, and she found her sitting dazed and dishevelled on the bed.
She didn’t know where he’d been, but he brought in a biting chill.
Shu He pushed him away in disgust, refusing his embrace. But he was too clingy, and after a while, he pulled her up from the bed.
The alcohol had left her feeling unwell. As he helped her dress, she glared at him, still grumpy from just waking up.
Jing Yi pretended not to notice, helping her with her scarf, then interlacing their fingers: “Let’s go.”
He wouldn’t tell her where they were going. Shu He warned coldly, “If it’s not as important as my sleep, you’re in trouble today.”
The young man just glanced at her, his dark eyes full of undisguised amusement. He squeezed her hand gently: “So fierce?”
Shu He remained silent until she saw the snowman in front of her. She was speechless for a long time.
Seeing her silence, Jing Yi shook her hand: “What’s wrong? It can’t be that ugly, can it?”
He felt a moment of self-doubt. The cold wind made Shu He’s eyes sting. Her voice was slightly hoarse: “Why did you suddenly make a snowman?”
“Isn’t that what you said yesterday? Make a snowman, see a snowman, and we’ll all be safe and sound.”
Shu He blinked in confusion. Her lips moved, “I… don’t remember.”
She wasn’t lying; she truly couldn’t remember what she’d said the night before.
Jing Yi was stunned briefly, then his dark eyes curved into a smile: “That’s fine. As long as I remember.”
Shu He’s heart felt as if something had struck it. She looked away, her voice soft: “You’re taking drunk talk seriously.”
He tilted his head close to her: “I believe everything you say.”
Shu He didn’t understand what it meant to be moved. She didn’t think she was someone who could be moved easily.
At that moment, she only felt her heart warm in the cold winter, her heartbeat suddenly deafening.
The snowman was about waist-high, with a carrot nose, crooked twigs for arms, wearing a beige knitted hat and scarf—ugly yet adorable.
She felt strangely emotional: “When did you make it?”
Jing Yi replied casually: “While you were still asleep.”
Such a large snowman—who knows how long it took him.
Jing Yi suddenly let go of her hand and walked straight to the snowman. His deep, dark eyes looked particularly bright in the snow. He tilted his head, hands in the pockets of his black coat, standing coolly, and smiled at her.
“Shu He, there will be snowmen every year from now on.”
You hate the cold, so I’ll make them for you.
I mean, my Shu He will be safe and sound every year.
What did she want now?
Jing Yi couldn’t help wondering.
She probably wanted to draw a clear line with him, her ex-boyfriend, and once their lease ended, they could have nothing to do with each other.
While he was lost in his thoughts, Shu He sent another message: [You still haven’t replaced my scarf.]
Jing Yi belatedly remembered he’d forgotten to give her the scarf that day.
His gaze fell on the elegantly wrapped gift bag. After a long moment, he slowly picked it up and went to the door. He carefully opened it a crack and cautiously pushed the package through—
Almost without warning, the door was suddenly pushed open from outside. Jing Yi was completely unprepared and nearly got hit. He instinctively wanted to flee, but his gaze, beyond his control, froze on the woman who suddenly appeared before him—
Shu He released the door handle and stepped forward without hesitation. Her clear eyes calmly assessed his face, her tone revealing nothing: “What are you hiding from?”
Leave a Reply