Chapter 23

“What’s important is not what you see, but what you hear.”

Like a perfectly closed loop, Song Cheng returned what the 23-year-old Wen Xiangyi had taught her to the 17-year-old Wen Xiangyi.

Wen Xiangyi, after listening, smiled thoughtfully at Song Cheng and said, “I understand what you mean. Thank you.”

Duan Jia: “Huh?”

Song Cheng lowered her eyebrows and kept her eyes downcast, saying, “You don’t need to thank me.”

It was something Wen Xiangyi had taught her in the first place.

Wen Xiangyi said softly, “It’s very helpful to me, so of course, I should thank you.”

Was it really helpful to Wen Xiangyi?

Song Cheng wasn’t so sure. Wen Xiangyi was the type of person who, even if she didn’t like a photo taken on the street, would thank the person and say it looked great.

What Song Cheng had told her was a very simple truth, something she had needed to be taught when she was younger. With Wen Xiangyi’s understanding, she should have figured it out on her own long ago.

Song Cheng was very aware of Wen Xiangyi’s refined sense of detachment, but hearing Wen Xiangyi thank her and say that she had been helpful caused an indescribable panic to shatter her calm.

She couldn’t put into words what this feeling or emotion was.

Duan Jia looked back and forth between the two, her head full of question marks.

What did Song Cheng say? How did Wen Xiangyi understand it?

She turned to her desk mate and saw that Song Cheng seemed lost in thought, staring ahead. She quickly went to ask Wen Xiangyi for clarification.

Three minutes later, Duan Jia returned to her seat, satisfied.

“Wen Xiangyi explained it clearly. I understand it now.”

She realized there might be some ambiguity in her words and looked at her desk mate, “Oh, Song Cheng, I didn’t mean to say you explained it badly.”

Song Cheng had almost calmed down and rubbed her face, saying, “I know, no need to explain.”

Duan Jia: “Mm-hmm.”

Song Cheng: “She’s better at teaching than I am.”

Even in her previous life, Song Cheng had to admit she was grateful to Wen Xiangyi for some things.

For example, Wen Xiangyi had forced her to study English, which had indirectly helped her pass the CET-4 and CET-6 exams.

Although now she was back to preparing for the college entrance exam.

It was as if someone had been pressing the “reset” button next to her ear continuously. Song Cheng sighed deeply, feeling mixed emotions.

Ah, she would have to retake the CET-4 and CET-6 exams too.

Ah, it was all just bubbles.

The midterm exams were over, and the December monthly exams were yet to come. The days between major exams were relatively relaxed during student life.

In early December, with temperatures constantly dropping and the lows approaching 0 degrees, besides the upcoming Christmas and New Year, another kind of invisible restlessness was affecting the students.

As the most fashionable girl in Dorm 509, Li Xueshan’s recent hot topic was:

“When will the first snow of the year come? Will it be on Christmas Day?”

Zhou Ying felt it was unlikely: “It’s been pretty cold recently. I think it might come early.”

Li Xueshan: “Cold and snow are two different things. Hey, check the weather forecast again.”

Duan Jia: “I checked; there’s no snow this week.”

Li Xueshan sighed in disappointment and mumbled, “I was hoping for a confession during the first snow. How long do I have to wait?”

Song Cheng thought of a name: “You’re going to confess to Lin Hang? Good luck.”

Li Xueshan’s disappointment shifted from the first snow to Song Cheng: “Lin Hang was ages ago, sis! I’ve moved on.” It seemed that Song Cheng hadn’t listened when she talked about it in the dorm!

Song Cheng was shocked: “When did this happen?”

Li Xueshan hesitated: “The last time we went to the mall, he asked for my number, but he’s not from our school.”

Recently, Li Xueshan had been absorbed in chatting with boys from other schools and had completely forgotten about Lin Hang. But when Song Cheng mentioned it, she remembered: “I heard Lin Hang also plans to confess during the first snow.”

Song Cheng: “?”

Duan Jia was curious: “He hasn’t given up yet? After such a long time without any movement, I thought he had stopped pursuing Wen Xiangyi.”

Li Xueshan: “He fell out of the top ten in the grade after the midterm exams. The homeroom teacher scolded him, so he must be behaving himself for a while.”

Song Cheng: “……”

Exam results affecting romantic pursuits? Sometimes, high school students seemed quite interesting.

Influenced by a classic Korean drama, “confessing during the first snow” had almost become a norm. The youthful restlessness buzzed in the dry cold air of the third school, making even winter static more common.

Mr. Li had to repeatedly remind the class during the meeting: “What’s important now is your monthly exams, not the New Year’s holiday. There are still the monthly exams ahead. And stop thinking about other things, like snow…”

The class erupted into understanding laughter, with everyone’s gaze wandering. A few boys and girls lowered their heads nonchalantly. Mr. Li, standing on the podium, observed everything clearly, shaking his head, picking up his thermos to drink some hot water, and waiting for the monkeys to quiet down.

Many eyes, amidst the commotion, turned towards Wen Xiangyi, even more than the Christmas cards and postcards appearing in her drawer.

Song Cheng felt a bit inexplicably anxious. She pressed her lips together and leaned forward, saying, “They’re all looking at you.”

Wen Xiangyi leaned back, “Hmm?”

Song Cheng opened her mouth and then closed it, coldly saying, “It’s nothing.”

Never mind!

Wen Xiangyi really didn’t understand the excitement of teenage boys and girls. It was better for her to worry about it herself.

On the podium, Mr. Li ended his spiritual massage with a slow remark: “It’s winter. Snow will come eventually.”

Perhaps influenced by his middle-aged, unhurried demeanor, the weather forecast had falsely reported snow a few times. This year, the snow was long overdue.

In the monotonous campus life, the delay only made more students focus on it, constantly mentioning it.

For instance, Duan Jia.

As the class representative for Chinese, Duan Jia expressed her longing for snow in writing and had already begun to copy beautiful sentences about snow.

Song Cheng respected her desk mate and borrowed the excerpts for her own literary accumulation.

During evening self-study, when Wen Xiangyi got up, she saw Song Cheng copying from Duan Jia’s notebook.

During the break, Wen Xiangyi went to the water dispenser and encountered Song Cheng, waiting for her to return to the classroom. Walking down the corridor, excited voices from passing girls came: “I heard it’s going to snow tonight, but we don’t know when!”

Song Cheng instinctively glanced at them.

Wen Xiangyi looked out at the still sky beyond the corridor and asked, “Are you also hoping for snow?”

Song Cheng hesitated for a moment.

Song Cheng was one of the few who didn’t care much about snow. In fact, she had disliked snow very much in the past, so she didn’t even remember if it had snowed in her second year of high school.

When she lived with her grandparents in the rural mountains, snow meant road closures, and even sparrows disappeared. When the snow melted, it turned into dirty water in the mud, with no beauty, only endless cold.

When she was with her parents, during winter, Ni Guang wanted a snowman, and Song Rongjian asked her to build one for her younger brother.

After finishing the snowman with red fingers, Ni Guang’s eyes lit up, but the next moment, he knocked it down. Ni Yun affectionately brushed the snow off him and smiled as she took Ni Guang home.

Her aversion to snow followed Song Cheng as she grew up and only gradually lessened—because she had money now.

She could earn money, not much, but enough so she didn’t have to return to the isolated mountain village with only one road leading out, or to a home where she felt like an outsider. When it snowed, if she wanted, she could buy herself a hot winter drink and think, “The snow is really heavy this year.”

Later, when she was with Wen Xiangyi, snow became a scene, whether it was a ski vacation abroad or the view outside a mountain villa with a crackling fireplace.

It always made Song Cheng feel that snow was a luxury for the wealthy. So she never really liked it.

At that moment, when Wen Xiangyi asked her, Song Cheng answered honestly: “I don’t care if it snows or not.”

She reciprocated, “What about you?”

But she already knew the answer in her heart. Wen Xiangyi loved snow. In the years they were together, Wen Xiangyi would always take a week off to go skiing every year, and Song Cheng could go play too.

Wen Xiangyi said, “I don’t like snow.”

?

…Hmm?

How was it different from what she remembered?

Song Cheng was momentarily stunned and quickly changed the question: “Do you like skiing?”

Wen Xiangyi seemed to recall an unpleasant memory and frowned, “I’ve been skiing before. I don’t want to go again.”

Song Cheng: “???”

Song Cheng’s mind was baffled.

She stood in the corridor, struggling to recall. It was always Wen Xiangyi who suggested skiing, so wasn’t it odd for someone who didn’t like it to go skiing? And Wen Xiangyi always went skiing with her…

Ah, Song Cheng finally remembered. On their first skiing trip, she quickly got dressed in her gear, and Wen Xiangyi hadn’t moved. Song Cheng, eager to hit the slopes, thought Wen Xiangyi was just lazy and initiative to ask：“Can I help you put on your gear?”

Wen Xiangyi looked at her for a while, her eyes filled with something Song Cheng couldn’t understand. Only when Song Cheng blinked in confusion did Wen Xiangyi smile and agree.

The instructor taught basic techniques on the slopes, and Song Cheng quickly got the hang of it, impressing the instructor with her progress.

She was so engrossed in having fun that she didn’t remember what Wen Xiangyi had been doing at that time. All she remembered was that after her excitement, in the changing room, Wen Xiangyi, already in casual clothes, was propping up her chin, watching her. The snowy mountains framed in the window behind her looked like a painting.

“Song Cheng, is skiing fun?”

What did she think back then? Song Cheng recalled.

She thought skiing was probably a common activity for Wen Xiangyi, and she, in her delight, might have seemed quite naive.

She composed her smile and said softly, “It’s okay.” In a faint tone.

Wen Xiangyi didn’t say anything more.

The next year, Wen Xiangyi still took her skiing.

…

Suddenly, Song Cheng realized something and her gaze fixed directly on Wen Xiangyi’s back.

At almost the same moment, Wen Xiangyi looked up at the sky outside the corridor. She walked to the railing, extended her hand, and her earlobes hidden in her black hair were slightly red, her profile blurred in the night.

After a while, she turned to look at Song Cheng and said, “Song Cheng, it’s snowing.”

Song Cheng walked over to her side and extended her hand towards the void, just like Wen Xiangyi.

A cold grain of salt fell into her palm.

It was this year’s first snow.