Shen Xi Fan wasn’t sure how long she had slept. Her body felt feverish, yet she was shivering from the cold. Her dreams were murky, blank, and fragmented, but a sliver of consciousness remained tethered to reality.
She vaguely heard her roommate come in, then leave, and soon after, the faint rustling sound of snow falling outside reached her ears—a gentle, soft melody.
After what felt like an eternity, the doorbell rang urgently, pulling her back to wakefulness. She opened her eyes to find the room pitch dark. Groping around, she managed to put on her shoes, but the moment her feet touched the ground, her head throbbed painfully.
Someone was calling from outside. “Shen Xi Fan, are you there?”
It was Lin Yi Shen. She answered weakly and stumbled to open the door. Standing there was Lin Yi Shen, his hair damp with melted snow, slightly out of breath. “Why did you take so long to answer? And why is your dorm so dark? I thought something happened to you.”
She mumbled groggily, “What? It’s raining?”
“It’s snowing!” Lin Yi Shen stepped inside and flipped the light switch, flooding the room with brightness. Shen Xi Fan squinted at the window. “It’s really snowing!”
He smiled and held up the materials. “I’ve organized everything. Take a look, and if there’s anything you don’t understand, I’ll explain. You don’t want the advisor asking you questions you can’t answer—that would be a disaster.”
Shen Xi Fan let out a long sigh, relieved. “Senior, I promise to honor you on every holiday with red eggs, light incense sticks, and even offer you cured meats and sausages. You’re not vegetarian, are you?”
“Stop being ridiculous!” Lin Yi Shen poked her forehead lightly, but the temperature of her skin startled him—it was abnormally warm. He immediately pulled his hand back. “Shen Xi Fan, are you running a fever?”
She touched her forehead and nodded. “No wonder I’ve been feeling cold—I guess I do have a slight fever.”
“Get into bed!” Lin Yi Shen frowned deeply. “You’re an adult, yet you have no sense of self-care. How many nights have you stayed up because of that advisor?”
“I’m fine; it’s just a little fever. Why are you making such a fuss?” Shen Xi Fan’s stubbornness flared. “Let me check the paper. I still need to revise it tonight and submit it tomorrow!”
Before she could finish her sentence, a wave of dizziness hit her. Her heartbeat quickened unbearably, and her blood vessels felt like they were about to burst. Pressing a hand to her chest, she took a deep breath to steady herself.
Alarmed, Lin Yi Shen exclaimed, “Shen Xi Fan, are you okay? Should we go to the hospital? Lie down first!”
She nodded. “I’ll lie down for a bit and catch my breath. My heart feels strange.”
* * *
At the Cardiovascular Institute of the University of Pennsylvania, the labs and archives were brightly lit. Rows of data scrolled across computer screens, while simulation images flashed rapidly. Frustrated voices occasionally broke the silence.
“Wrong again! Damn these numbers!”
He Su Ye focused intently on his computer screen when a sudden twitch in his right eye pulled his attention away.
It was likely fatigue—he had barely slept for three days in over two weeks. Even lying down felt like a luxury, let alone actual sleep. Everyone was working themselves to exhaustion for the project’s results, and it had been a long time since he had contacted Shen Xi Fan.
Not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t.
Suddenly, the sound of a phone ringing echoed sharply through the quiet, its persistence grating. It rang over and over, as if laden with urgent, unsaid words.
A voice called from the next room, “He, your phone!”
He froze for a moment, startled, and quickly stood up. Picking up the phone, he heard a familiar voice, tinged with restrained anger: “He Su Ye, what on earth are you so busy with?”
Surprised and growing increasingly worried, he asked, “Lin Yi Shen? What happened?”
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