Yuan Zhong gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with his fingertips, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t dry them.
“Why are you crying?” he asked softly.
Tan Yin shook her head. “I’m… just a little overwhelmed.”
Yuan Zhong’s heart was flooded with a mix of emotions—pride, joy, and fear. It felt as if everything in front of him might be a dream, one that he could wake from at any moment. He lowered his head to kiss her eyes, again and again, his voice trembling with a pleading tone: “Call me. Say my name.”
“Yuan Zhong.”
“Again.”
“Yuan Zhong.”
His joy reached its peak. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and lifted her up, high above him. Looking at her tear-soaked eyelashes and eyes, he suddenly felt that at this moment, he could throw everything away—his entire life, if need be.
“Is this real?” he asked, half to her and half to himself, as if he couldn’t believe it.
Tan Yin raised her hand and gently traced his eyebrows and the contours of his face. He looked so happy, like a child. The boy she had seen on the high platform had never grown up. His eyes were still as pure as snow on a mountain peak.
She was the one who was dirty, the one whose human tribulation had been her own fault.
“Am I heavy?” she asked with a soft laugh, remembering how he had once said that goddesses were heavy.
Yuan Zhong’s mischievous eyes sparkled, brighter than the sun.
“Very heavy! My arms are about to break!” He flashed his white teeth, pretending to complain.
Tan Yin flicked his forehead. “Then why don’t you let go?”
He playfully jostled her a couple of times, holding her firmly. “Even if I could hold you for a thousand years, I wouldn’t want to let go.”
Tan Yin said nothing. The wind began to pick up, and she gently used her fingers to comb his hair, tucking the loose strands behind his ear. Suddenly, she noticed a rolled-up painting tied with red silk lying at his feet, half-soaked in the snow.
“Your talisman painting won’t work anymore,” she said, laughing.
Yuan Zhong lifted his chin proudly. “I have a real goddess. Who needs a painting to ward off evil?”
Yes, his goddess, his deity. How many times had he held that cold figure in his arms in his dreams, only to wake up to emptiness? He had never told anyone about these feelings, because if he did, even he would laugh at himself. While his entire clan knelt and worshiped her, he had dared to imagine standing beside her as an equal. His love made him feel as though they were equals.
It was a ridiculous and arrogant pride, but even now, he clung to it. She was a goddess, but it didn’t matter—they were equals.
At this moment, his goddess was real, held in his arms, her long hair flowing softly around him, her presence enveloping him like a gentle breeze. Yuan Zhong stared at her intently. Her eyes, like black gemstones, were flickering, avoiding his gaze, hesitating and retreating.
“Look at me…” he whispered, pleading. “Tan Yin, look at me… don’t leave.”
At last, her eyes hesitantly met his.
She liked him. She just didn’t say it. But her eyes said everything, speaking volumes without a word.
Yuan Zhong held the back of her head, lifting his own to kiss the elegant curve of her chin. His trembling lips moved upwards, slowly and meticulously, savoring every touch, until finally, they found her lips again.
This time, his lips no longer trembled. His kisses were gentle, but they gradually became more intense. His hands unconsciously pressed her closer, as if to fuse their lips together.
Tan Yin began to feel a suffocating pain, and instinctively parted her lips to breathe. But as she did, his tongue suddenly invaded, and her mind went blank, as if something had exploded within her. A soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips.
His kiss was no longer the tentative, clumsy one from before. It was fierce and forceful, full of an overpowering sense of domination. Tan Yin felt like snow melting under the sun, slowly turning into water. Her heartbeat synced with his, as if he controlled the very rhythm of her pulse. It was a strange, terrifying sensation—she wanted to escape, yet couldn’t bring herself to. Her heart pounded louder and louder, until all she could feel was him. He was invading her entire world, leaving his mark, his breath, his scent, everything.
The kiss stretched on, deep and intense, until Yuan Zhong finally pulled away from her flushed, trembling lips. He kissed the tip of her nose, then her cheeks, while Tan Yin, still in a daze, hadn’t yet returned to reality.
Yuan Zhong buried his face in her chest, his breathing ragged, his voice muffled. “...I’m going to die.”
Tan Yin blinked, slowly coming back to herself. “What…?” she mumbled.
He kept his head buried in her chest, refusing to look up. His voice was barely audible. “Don’t look at me.”
It was only then that she noticed his ears were bright red, glowing in the sunlight like translucent rubies. Tan Yin’s foggy mind suddenly cleared, and all her senses rushed back to her. She couldn’t help but laugh softly as she touched his ears. Even through her gloves, she could feel how hot they were. It took a while before his ears returned to their normal color.
Yuan Zhong finally lifted his head, smiling faintly. “I’m going to make some incense. Do you want to join me?”
Tan Yin smiled too. “Sure.”
He set her down gently, and together they walked back into the small building, arm in arm.
Meanwhile, Xiao Erji was still tirelessly spinning around, while more and more of the little wooden figures lay toppled at its feet. The painting on the snow was completely soaked. In the distance, hidden in the shadows, Yuan Xiaozhong bit down on a handkerchief and nodded fervently, his eyes full of pride: “Dazhong! You were finally bold! Well done!”
He turned and dashed towards the kitchen. He had to make something delicious to celebrate!
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