Chapter 29: Surviving This Winter

Jian Li slept for a while, and when she woke up, the outside had quieted down. The room was pitch black, as if it had fallen into an abandoned state.

She broke out in a sweat. The closed room was dry and stuffy, so she opened the window for ventilation and poured a glass of water to check her temperature again.

There was now a new group chat with seven people. Dozens of messages were about choosing a script-killing game to play, along with a few private messages.

【Zhou Shubei: Stomach ache?】

【Zhou Shubei: Cold?】

These messages were sent just a minute after she replied to him.

After waking up, her mind was much clearer, and the feeling of grievance faded away.

From the beginning, it was all one-sided affection from her towards Zhou Shubei. He had no obligation to reciprocate, and she had become greedy during their time together. When her expectations were not met, she would automatically switch to a defensive and aggrieved mode, but Zhou Shubei didn’t owe her anything.

Thinking this through, she replied: 【Just a little tired, but I feel better after sleeping.】

Just as she was about to exit the conversation and check what Tan Xueying had sent, a new message popped up on her screen.

【Hmm, want some beef noodles?】

She had only eaten a little earlier, and she was indeed hungry now.

【Aren’t you playing the script-killing game?】

【Zhou Shubei: I’m not playing.】

【Zhou Shubei: Want to eat?】

【Sure, where are you?】

Zhou Shubei sent a location pin, just 100 meters from the hotel. Confirming she had recovered from her fever, Jian Li replied, “I’ll come over now,” dressed quickly, put on a mask, and headed downstairs while checking Tan Xueying’s messages.

【Tan Xueying: I asked Zhou Shubei. He said he didn’t choose anyone because there would definitely be unnecessary stirrings and rumors. It’s easy to start rumors, but hard to clear them up.】

【Tan Xueying: I really wanted to give him a thumbs up for considering everything so thoroughly.】

【Tan Xueying: This solution is a bit too direct, we should think of a more subtle one.】

Jian Li paused, then understood. This was Zhou Shubei. He could immediately consider the potential consequences and easily resolve a difficult situation.

【Forget it, let it be.】

【Tan Xueying: ?? You’ve given up?】

【No, it’s just that I’m a bit afraid of the outcome. If I continue testing, he might realize, and then we might not even be friends anymore.】

She knew how Zhou Shubei rejected people, and she didn’t want to risk pushing the already delicate relationship back to square one.

【Tan Xueying: What if he really likes you?】

【Tan Xueying: If you like someone, you should be brave and say it. Even if you’re rejected, so what? At least you can give up early. Don’t wait until years later when you see him with someone else. Or maybe you can give yourself a conditional chance and go with fate.】

Jian Li: 【Conditional chance?】

【Tan Xueying: It’s a low-probability event. If it really happens, then it means fate wanted it that way.】

Jian Li didn’t really believe in this kind of thing, it was like flipping a coin—heads or tails didn’t really matter, the answer was already in her heart. She liked having control over the choice.

She arrived at the noodle shop, where Zhou Shubei was the only one there. The owner was a middle-aged couple with skin yellowed from oil smoke. The lights, too, were a warm yellow from the same effect. Zhou Shubei sat at the farthest spot, his back to the door, staring down at his phone. The light and shadows fell on his back, and Jian Li, for some reason, felt a trace of loneliness from him.

It was almost midnight, and today was his birthday.

Jian Li quickly walked over, and the two bowls of noodles were already on the table. Zhou Shubei looked up. “That was fast.”

He smiled lazily as usual, and the loneliness she had felt earlier seemed to be a mere illusion.

“I’m really hungry,” Jian Li said.

Zhou Shubei smiled, took out two pairs of disposable chopsticks, and handed one to her.

Her bowl had extra chili, and the steam from the noodles blurred Zhou Shubei’s features. He focused on eating, no longer looking lazy.

Noticing her gaze, Zhou Shubei looked up. “What are you looking at?” He smiled again. “Do you want my bowl?”

“No,” Jian Li started to reply but then changed the subject. “Aren’t you playing their script-killing game?”

They had finally chosen a six-person mystery game.

“I made a random choice,” Zhou Shubei said.

“Oh,” Jian Li nodded.

After finishing their noodles, they strolled back slowly. Jian Li had learned to read the faces of her parents, Zhang Wenxiu and Jian Zhiguo, since elementary school, and she was more sensitive to emotions than most people. She could sense that Zhou Shubei was in a bad mood, though he hid it well.

Seeing a stall packing up on the side of the road, Jian Li gently tugged at his sleeve. “Wait here for a second.”

As she spoke, Zhou Shubei watched the girl in a white winter coat quickly run to the stall owner. There was a faint fragrance in the wind, like osmanthus in August.

She returned to him out of breath, glanced around, and found a spot on the hillside. She tugged at his sleeve again.

Zhou Shubei looked at her hand gripping his clothes and smiled. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll know soon.” Once they reached their destination, Jian Li positioned him to block the wind. “Stand here and block the wind.”

Zhou Shubei chuckled. “Teacher Jian, even the donkeys in a farm team aren’t used like this.”

Jian Li was doing something mysterious, and Zhou Shubei wanted to turn around but was stopped. “Don’t turn around yet, just hold on for a moment.”

Zhou Shubei laughed softly, a hint of indulgence in his tone. “Alright, but Teacher Jian, hurry up. I don’t want to end up like a fool in the wind.”

Jian Li’s movements were a bit fidgety, but Zhou Shubei continued to play along. The cold wind had started to whip around.

This direction allowed them to see most of the area. On the right were homestays with the same decor, backed by forests. Street lights stood lonely on either side, and countless insects danced around the light. Across the road was the restaurant where they had eaten earlier, with occasional laughter spilling out from the script-killing game shop.

As they stood there, a stray cat emerged from the grass, looked around cautiously, then called out to a few others who quickly appeared.

The lead tabby eyed Zhou Shubei for a moment before dashing toward a bakery. The other cats scattered like a small gang with no discipline.

Zhou Shubei found it amusing, and just as he was about to move aside to see what the cat was stealing, he was tapped on the shoulder.

“Zhou Shubei, you can turn around now.”

He turned, his vision filled with colorful bubbles—some big, some small, floating irregularly through the air, some bouncing off his face, others landing on his shoulders. They burst quickly in the cold air but were immediately replaced by new ones. The source was the pink pig-headed camera Jian Li was holding, blowing bubbles while flashing lights and playing music.

Zhou Shubei laughed. “What are you doing?”

Jian Li quickly pressed the camera twice, stepped aside, and said, “Happy birthday.”

Zhou Shubei looked through the bubbles, his smile faltering as he saw seven balloons swaying in the wind, with the words “Happy Birthday Zhou Shubei” written on them with black markers.

The balloons weren’t easy to write on, so the words were a bit crooked. The balloons were tied with string and weighed down by stones. Around the stones were numerous uninflated balloons, forming a smiley face. Some had already been blown away by the wind, leaving parts of the smile incomplete.

Jian Li rushed to chase after one that had floated away, and as she returned, she found a sky lantern.

Zhou Shubei was speechless. His heart felt heavy, as though something had collapsed inside him.

She had been holding two bags he hadn’t seen, and now he realized this was what she had been up to.

Jian Li retrieved the balloon, “I didn’t have time to buy a cake. Do you think we can make a wish with the sky lantern?”

Zhou Shubei looked at her, his voice soft, “Why do all this?”

“Today’s your birthday. I wanted to make you happy,” Jian Li’s face was mostly hidden behind a scarf, her voice muffled, “It’s not past midnight yet, should be fine, right?”

Zhou Shubei’s throat rolled lightly as he answered, his voice a bit hoarse, “It’s not late.”

Jian Li’s hands, which had grown cold from holding the balloons, were pale and blue, and her hair was tousled by the wind. Zhou Shubei thought back to the tabby cat she had fed at the convenience store. The cat had survived despite being a stray, and the food she gave it was enough to help it survive the winter.

“Then make your wish,” Jian Li handed him the marker. The pink pig camera hung from her neck, and her clear eyes reflected his image.

“The wind is so strong, and we’re high up here. The sky lantern will fly farther than usual,” she said.

Zhou Shubei’s hand moved slightly, and he suppressed the urge to pull her into his arms. He took the marker.

His writing was bold and graceful, sharp yet beautiful. Jian Li glanced at it, and he had written—“The next heavy snow.”

Jian Li was puzzled. “Hasn’t it snowed heavily in Beicheng before?”

Zhou Shubei capped the marker, “It has.”

“Then you don’t need to make a wish for that,” Jian Li said.

Zhou Shubei held the sky lantern by both ends and watched as she pulled out a new lighter from her bag. The flame reflected in her eyes, “There’s a time limit.”

Jian Li shrugged, not asking further, and tried again to light the lantern. The wind was so strong that several attempts failed.

“I’ll try,” Zhou Shubei said.

He took the pink lighter from her, his fingertips brushing against the back of her hand. Jian Li blinked, holding the lantern up high.

His hand was large, and as he struck the match, the veins on the back of his hand stood out. The firelight cast a warm glow on his features. The bottom of the sky lantern ignited, and with the help of the wind, the flame grew strong enough to lift the lantern, which floated away from their hands.

Jian Li looked up, watching the lantern fly off into the distance. All she could see was a tiny red dot far above.

Then a hand blocked her view. She instinctively ducked, but Zhou Shubei had already pulled his hand back, with a dry leaf clutched between his fingers.

The contrast between the dark leaf and his hand was striking. His fingers curled, and the leaf shattered, floating away like a butterfly.

The time clicked to midnight.

Zhou Shubei had a piece of the broken leaf in his palm. His voice was warm as he said, “This wind was worth it.”

They collected everything, and Zhou Shubei took a picture before they parted at the door.

Jian Li used hot water to wet a towel and wiped her face. When she came out, she saw a new message on her phone.

【Zhou Shubei: Thank you.】

Feeling that her gesture had been accepted, Jian Li’s heart felt lighter and brighter. She typed “No need” in the reply box but then deleted it and typed: 【You’re welcome, get some rest early.】

【Zhou Shubei: Okay.】

The screen reflected her smiling face. Jian Li looked out the window and posted her first public Weibo: 【Hope the heavy snow comes early this year.】