ATLAS TRANSLATES

After seeing Shu He to her apartment, Xiang Lanye left.

On this rare snowy evening, the street lamps glowed yellow. Parents were still outside playing with their children in the snow.

Shu He closed her umbrella and patiently waited for the lift to come up from the second basement level. She cradled the housewarming gift from Xiang Lanye—a large bouquet of Earl Grey tea roses.

“Ding!”

As the lift doors slowly opened, Shu He froze.

Sitting in a wheelchair was a man wearing a black wool coat. Today, he wore those painfully familiar silver-rimmed glasses, and… curly hair.

He clearly hadn’t expected to see her here either. His hand holding a coffee cup tensed slightly. The packaging was familiar to Shu He—it was from “Daily” coffee shop.

The air hung still for a moment. Just as the lift doors began to close, Shu He stepped inside.

Jing Yi’s wheelchair was positioned on the left side. Shu He stood on the right, her arms growing tired from holding the flowers. She instinctively switched hands, causing the bouquet’s wrapping to rustle softly.

In the cramped air, a subtle floral scent seemed to swirl, quietly seeping into her bones, stirring up a dense, excited, nervous tingling.

The lift’s silver doors acted like an inescapable mirror, with direct gazes boldly reflecting from every corner.

Shu He’s clear eyes met his dark pupils.

He seemed surprised by how calmly she returned his gaze. His black pupils visibly startled, his confusion completely unmasked.

The lift dinged, and Shu He looked away, like a still, undisturbed lake, not a ripple to be seen.

Jing Yi steered his wheelchair behind her, his gaze burning into her back. His tightly clenched heart suddenly loosened, pounding violently and excitedly, as if out of control.

Shu He went straight to her room, ignoring the person behind her.

She found a new vase, arranged the flowers in it, and placed it on her dressing table.

Many of her things remained unpacked, with some still outside. Shu He casually tied up her hair, planning to move the things in the living room inside first.

Just as she walked out, she saw a figure frozen in front of the sofa. His back looked hunched. In this empty living room, apart from some lonely furniture and her unpacked belongings, there was only him—impossible to ignore.

Shu He chose not to see him. She carried a box into the bedroom, and when she came out for the remaining items, the man’s ragged breathing seemed particularly heavy in the quiet environment.

She frowned as she approached him, but didn’t kneel down. His pale face had turned bright red, and the back of his hand, partially exposed beyond his sleeve, showed spots of redness.

Remembering the bouquet she’d been holding, Shu He looked at his pained expression and asked, “Where’s your allergy medicine?”

Jing Yi’s eyelashes fluttered like raven feathers. His lips moved, his voice low and hoarse with uncertainty: “I think… in that cabinet over there…”

After speaking, his tightly curled hand retracted slightly. He raised his face with extreme slowness. The man’s neck had an unhealthy whiteness, with visible veins, crossed with several bright red scratch marks.

His Adam’s apple slowly bobbed as his clear black and white eyes stared directly at her. When he spoke again, there was a pitiful dejection in his voice—

“But I… can’t reach it.”

Like a small dog encountered on a winter roadside, with fluffy paws scratching away, bright black eyes looking at you expectantly, as if you’d feel guilty for not helping.

Shu He found the allergy medicine in the cabinet he’d pointed to. She frowned and muttered to herself, “Why is it placed so high?”

Jing Yi’s sharp ears caught her words. He greedily watched her, yet maintained his dejected tone: “I don’t know… perhaps the housekeeper forgot I’m disabled.”

Shu He accidentally bumped her foot against the cabinet. A dense pain seemed to pierce into her bones, even her heart felt like it had taken a hit.

“Don’t you drink hot water?” She had intended to pour him a cup but discovered there wasn’t any in the flat.

“I forgot to boil some…” He manoeuvred his wheelchair slowly towards her, forcing a slight smile with apparent effort. His voice was soft: “It’s alright, I can drink cold water too.”

Meeting her gaze, he picked up the hot coffee he’d placed on the countertop and said with a pale face: “I still have coffee. Coffee works too.”

“…”

Shu He still remembered when she worked part-time at the flower shop during university, and how he would visit her daily.

At first, she hadn’t noticed anything wrong, until the day she spotted the red spots on his neck and realised he was allergic to pollen.

After working all day, she inevitably carried various flower scents on her.

Yet every time he came to see her, he liked to hold her in his arms, inhaling her scent, saying how much he missed her.

He’d rather take allergy medicine constantly than stop seeing her.

“Do you really have to come find me?” That was the first time she got angry with him. He was clearly suffering, yet still tried to hold her hand, but she pulled away several times.

“Shu He, don’t ignore me.”

Later, Shu He quit her flower shop job, and Jing Yi gave her a large bouquet of flowers folded from red banknotes.

He kissed her apologetically. “Even if I’m allergic to pollen, I can still give you flowers. Shu He, don’t be angry anymore, okay?”

He seemed to have become her allergen too. Whenever anything related to him came up, she began to soften, becoming unable to ignore him callously.

Even after two years apart, it was still the same.

Shu He consoled herself that she only feared her flatmate dying and leaving her to bear the full rent alone.

She turned to boil water and placed the medicine in front of him.

“Take your medicine later.” After speaking, she turned to go back to her room, but Jing Yi called out to her again—

“Jiejie.”

No longer “Shu He.”

But, “Jiejie” (big sister).

Shu He’s feet felt like lead, unable to move. She stood frozen in place. Behind her came subtle sounds, the bedroom door ajar, letting in a sliver of light. She didn’t turn around, her gaze fixed on that small shaft of light.

Jing Yi tightened his grip on the coffee cup, a bitterness sliding down his throat.

“I… got my hair permed back.”

The air hung silent for a while. Shu He took a deep breath, turned around, and fixed her gaze completely on him. Her numb heart suddenly felt squeezed.

The man’s once obediently straight black hair had been permed into those familiar lazy curls. Silver-rimmed glasses sat on his high nose bridge, his dark eyes quietly watching her.

The light fell on his pale face, seemingly overlapping with the image from years ago—the face she knew best and loved most.

Yet somehow.

It wasn’t him anymore.

When Shu He first saw him wearing glasses, she made no attempt to hide her attraction.

Her gaze was so intense that Jing Yi propped his chin up and smiled: “You’ve been staring at me all afternoon. Girlfriend, do you like me that much?”

“Yes,” Shu He admitted without hesitation. Everyone appreciates beauty, especially when someone so handsome was her boyfriend.

“I like how you look with glasses.”

Her frank expression of admiration caught Jing Yi off guard. When Shu He returned to her revision, he was still stunned.

Until he called her name again, and the moment Shu He looked up, her vision darkened as he leaned across the table to kiss her.

The young man’s lips curved slightly, his handsome eyes full of deep affection. “Had I known, I should have worn glasses to seduce you earlier. I might have won you over sooner.”

Later, when he got those stylishly handsome curls, Shu He liked them even more.

Often when he was jealous, she would simply stroke his curly hair and kiss him, and he’d forget everything else.

When they kissed, her fingertips would thread through his black hair, their wet tongues twining in devotion.

After learning how much she liked this look, he became increasingly seductive.

The cool silver frames of his glasses would press against her flat stomach, gradually moving downward. His soft black hair wouldn’t hurt her thigh skin, but it would tickle.

He would pleasure her thoroughly, and in moments of passion, repeatedly call her name, using the title she loved to hear—”Jiejie.”

“Jiejie, did you get there?”

In the past, he would only call her “Jiejie” during such intimate moments.

The bubbling sound of the boiling kettle shocked Shu He back to reality. She walked over and poured a cup of hot water, the steam warming her eyes.

Jing Yi’s gaze focused intensely on her profile. Shu He placed the hot water beside the allergy medicine, her clear eyes once again returning to that undisturbed state.

“Jing Yi.” This was the first time she’d said his name since their reunion.

Jing Yi’s Adam’s apple bobbed. She looked composed as she said, “We’ve already broken up.”

“You sent the breakup message.”

At that moment, Jing Yi’s once-racing heart seemed suddenly doused with cold water. An icy chill rushed through his blood into his limbs. His fingertips dug into his palm, his lips moving helplessly, but like someone had grabbed his throat, he couldn’t speak.

The air hung silent for a while. Shu He received no answer.

The exhaustion from her busy day suddenly crashed over her. Shu He contained her emotions and said, “I don’t like curly hair anymore.”

Seeing his bloodless face, she felt no satisfaction, yet still looked down at him and said: “I’m only renting short-term. I’ll move out in three months. We are merely flatmates now.”

With that, she returned to her bedroom without another glance at him.

When the bedroom door closed, only he remained in the vast living room.

He stared blankly at the tightly shut door, and once certain she wouldn’t come out again, he slowly shifted his gaze. He picked up the hot water she’d left aside, but his hand jerked from the heat—

The glass cup fell to the floor with a crisp sound, shattering. Scalding water splashed onto his ankle, but he took no notice, staring fixedly at the bedroom.

She didn’t come out.

In the lift earlier, he had secretly rejoiced when she switched hands holding the flowers, thinking she must remember his pollen allergy.

She still cared enough to keep him alive, willing to find his medicine.

She worried he might die.

But now, Jing Yi looked away, belatedly feeling the pain.

Not just his hand, not just his ankle, but his heart too—a pain that made his eyes suddenly redden, hot tears falling unexpectedly like broken pearl strands onto the back of his hand.

Shu He was ignoring him.

She didn’t care about him anymore.

She would never.

Never comfort him again.