That evening, Shen Xi Fan felt as though she were under some kind of spell.
After leaving the office, she didn’t want to go home. Instead, she wandered aimlessly through the streets. The snow on the ground had turned gray with dirt—no longer the pure white it once was.
She recalled the night He Su Ye had walked her home. The snow had fallen heavily, blanketing the world in a pristine beauty. He had held an umbrella over her, but she’d refused to use it, preferring to play in the wind and snow. That night, the snow had been crystal clear and flawless.
She had sung as she twirled in the snow:
“Sometimes, sometimes, I believe everything must end. Meetings and partings—they all have their time. Nothing lasts forever. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I could hold on and never let go…”
He Su Ye had smiled at her and said, “Red beans are neutral in nature, sweet and sour in taste. They clear heat, detoxify, strengthen the spleen, stop diarrhea, and reduce swelling. Combined with lian qiao and dang gui, they can treat liver abscesses; combined with dandelion and licorice, they can relieve intestinal pain.”
She had laughed at him, calling him a pedantic old scholar. He had called her a little girl pretending to be mature. In the end, even he forgot about the umbrella, joining her in a snowball fight until they were both soaked.
Perhaps love is like snow, she thought. Once it’s sullied, it can never return to its original purity.
After walking a long distance, she grew tired and decided to take the bus home. But as she rummaged through her bag, she realized she had forgotten her wallet.
Letting out a bitter laugh, she didn’t want to call home and invite a lecture. Flipping through her phone contacts, she hesitated when she saw He Su Ye’s name, then resolutely dialed his number.
“He Su Ye, can I skip the dinner Li Jie owes me?”
There was some noise in the background, suggesting he wasn’t home, but his voice came through clearly. “Little girl, what are you up to now?”
She sighed. “I was wondering if Dr. He could take pity on me. I forgot my wallet and can’t get home…”
He really came. It turned out he’d stayed at school and was nearby. She watched as he stepped off the bus, a single-strap bag slung over his shoulder. The buttons of his coat were undone, and the wind ruffled his hair.
When he stood in front of her, he said simply, “Let’s go.”
Those two words were enough to bring tears to her eyes.
She had always pretended to be strong. No matter how much she hated Yan Heng, she hid it carefully in front of him, unwilling to show even the slightest weakness. No matter how wronged she felt, she refused to cry in front of others.
But those two gentle words—“Let’s go”—pierced her carefully built walls, stirring emotions she desperately needed to release.
The large bowl of Lanzhou noodles in front of her was filled with rich broth and fragrant beef. The small eatery buzzed with noise, with the owner bantering cheerfully with patrons. The warm steam wafting through the air made Shen Xi Fan’s eyes sting.
She ate quickly, almost ravenously, not daring to pause. She feared that if she stopped, her tears would spill uncontrollably. Across from her sat a man who, even in a modest street-side noodle shop, exuded quiet warmth.
He smiled as he ordered her the large bowl of noodles, silently watched her pick out all the beef from her bowl, and, without a word, passed her the beef from his own bowl. He always picked up his chopsticks after her but somehow finished eating first. And then, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, he asked if she wanted anything else.
Shen Xi Fan wanted to cry. She longed for an excuse to sob, to release all her grievances, anger, and heartache.
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