“A big gift?” Chen Ran chuckled. “I’m looking forward to it. When will Mr. Chu deliver it?”

“Tomorrow.”

After saying that, Chu Shangluo hung up. He had initially planned to wait a bit longer before making a move, but he couldn’t delay any further. If he waited, Chen Ran would only think of him as an easy target.

Furious, Chu Shangluo kicked the metal frame on the ground, then took a long breath, picked it up, and continued working, pressing it into the soil.

Ren Jiaoming watched him with a pained expression. His face darkened as he stepped aside to make a phone call.

The snow continued to fall heavily, and more of the Chu family members arrived to help salvage the greenhouses.

Chu Shangluo, in his frustration and urgency, ignored his own well-being. When Chu Zong came over to take the plastic sheet from him, he finally noticed the pain in his hands—it was so severe that even moving them became difficult.

Under the lights, Chu Shangluo’s hands were bright red from the cold.

Chu Zong frowned, alarmed. “Cousin, your hands are frostbitten! Go inside and warm them up!”

“I’m fine. Don’t make a fuss.”

“How can you say you’re fine? Your hands will be ruined! Why aren’t you wearing gloves? Just looking at them hurts!”

“I said I’m fine! Mind your own work!”

Chu Shangluo was stubborn by nature, always sticking to his word, making it difficult for anyone to argue with him.

Rubbing his sore hands, he continued toward the next damaged greenhouse. Suddenly, footsteps sounded behind him, and the next moment, someone grasped his hands.

Ren Jiaoming placed a hand warmer in his palms, then wrapped his own hands around Chu Shangluo’s icy ones.

Ren Jiaoming’s hands were usually cold, but perhaps because he had used the warmer, they felt comforting. The searing pain in Chu Shangluo’s frozen hands eased slightly under the gentle heat.

Chu Shangluo silently stared at Ren Jiaoming, who was carefully warming his hands. Amid the swirling snow, he saw his reflection in Ren Jiaoming’s calm eyes.

After all this time, at last, he saw himself in the other man’s gaze.

Momentarily dazed, Chu Shangluo quickly shifted his attention to the Chu family members working tirelessly in the snow. Some were fully equipped, while others, having rushed over, were without hats or gloves, shivering in the cold.

“Chu Zong!” he called out.

“Yeah! I’ll be there when I finish here!”

Chu Shangluo tried to pull his hands back, but Ren Jiaoming held on firmly, his fingertips gently tracing the rough skin of Chu’s hands.

“I called for warm gear. It’s on the way,” Ren Jiaoming said softly.

Chu Shangluo was briefly surprised, but quickly masked it with indifference. Ren Jiaoming knew him too well—he had anticipated his needs and handled them in advance.

His expression turned cold.

“Ren Jiaoming, you’re not my secretary anymore. I don’t need you doing these things for me.”

“You never fired me. I still am.”

Chu Shangluo let out a bitter laugh. “If you’re my secretary, then tell me—didn’t you notice the Wen family was targeting me? Did you warn me?”

Ren Jiaoming pressed his lips together, unable to argue. He had noticed, but at the time, his mind had been elsewhere, so he ignored it.

Chu Shangluo’s gaze fell on his hands, still wrapped in Ren Jiaoming’s warmth.

“Now, here I am, in the middle of the night, fixing greenhouses with my family in this freezing snow—all because of Wen Yan and Chen Ran’s disgusting actions. And you’re standing here holding my hands like you feel sorry for me? Where were you back then? Can you honestly say this has nothing to do with you? Ren Jiaoming, I’m not a fool, so stop trying to act innocent.”

Ren Jiaoming stayed silent.

Chu Shangluo’s voice dropped even lower.

“Do you think you’ve lived up to the title of ‘secretary’? Have you been competent?”

Ren Jiaoming stared at the scrapes on Chu Shangluo’s hand and gently took a band-aid from his pocket, carefully placing it on his wound.

Chu Shangluo: “…”

Just then, Chu Zong finished his task and ran over. “Cousin, you called me earlier? What’s up?”

“Nothing now.”

Chu Shangluo shook off Ren Jiaoming’s hand and walked over to a younger relative who was skillfully setting up a tent. She had joined the Chu family business after graduating from university last year. With her good character and strong work ethic, Chu Shangluo admired her and had promoted her to a management role. After the downfall of the Chu family, he had even helped her secure a position at the other Corporation.

The young woman wasn’t wearing gloves, and her hands were so cold they had stiffened.

Feeling his hands had warmed enough, Chu Shangluo passed the hand warmer to her. “I’ll take over. Warm yourself up for a bit.”

Chu Jia smiled, insisting, “Uncle, I’m fine. I’m not cold.”

Ignoring her, Chu Shangluo grabbed the support frame, forcefully pressing it into the soil before wrapping plastic sheeting around it.

“I remember your father wasn’t in good health, right? You should stay home to take care of him. Coming out alone so late at night isn’t safe.”

Chu Jia gazed at his broad shoulders and replied, “My dad’s been better for a long time—thanks to the treatment you paid for, remember? I live nearby, and when Chu Zong said we needed extra hands, I came over. Don’t underestimate me!”

The wind howled, making the plastic sheeting flap wildly. Holding it alone was difficult; every time one side was secured, the other would be blown loose.

Ren Jiaoming, now wearing gloves, silently approached and held down the other side of the plastic to help.

Chu Shangluo glanced at him twice but quickly shifted his focus back to Chu Jia.

“You’re impressive—I never underestimated you.”

Just then, a vehicle arrived, its headlights illuminating the field. Several men got out and distributed hats and gloves to the workers.

With the cold issue resolved, the work pace sped up.

Chu Jia received a pair of cotton gloves, put them on, returned the hand warmer to a sweat-drenched Chu Shangluo, and joined the others in repairing the greenhouse.

By now, most of the greenhouses were repaired.

Chu Shangluo took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead. As soon as he paused, the cold began seeping into his body, making him shiver.

Ren Jiaoming approached quietly and draped a jacket over his shoulders, fastening the collar tightly to keep the wind out.

Chu Shangluo gazed at the repaired greenhouses. He pushed Ren Jiaoming aside, crouched down, and gently pinched the frost-covered strawberry leaves. The leaves were still soft—so long as they hadn’t frozen solid, they could be saved.

He let out a breath of relief, but his heart still felt heavy.

Chen Ran truly was as despicable as Wen Yan—cheap tricks with nasty intentions. It was like a dead rat falling into a pot of soup: minimal damage but utterly disgusting.

Once the repairs were complete and the workers had left, Chu Shangluo ignored Ren Jiaoming, who had been following him the entire time, and went with Chu Shen to check the surveillance footage.

The group who had sabotaged the greenhouses was clever. They wore masks and matching outfits, making it impossible to identify them individually.

Even though Chu Shangluo knew Chen Ran was behind it, he still wanted to teach his lackeys a lesson. However, the security footage revealed nothing useful.

The old wall clock ticked to 11 PM as goose-feather snow blanketed the entire capital.

Chu Shangluo copied the footage, lit a cigarette, and walked out of the small shed.

Ren Jiaoming, still lingering like a shadow, followed him.

Reaching the roadside, Chu Shangluo tried to hail a cab, but it was too late and the area too remote. No taxis appeared.

Ren Jiaoming brushed the snow off his hair and, noticing how Chu Shangluo was shivering, said softly, “Take my car. I’ll drive you home.”

Chu Shangluo continued staring at the pitch-black, unlit road in the distance, exhaling smoke in silence.

Since he didn’t speak, Ren Jiaoming also remained quiet.

The dark night was silent except for the softly falling snow. They stood side by side, as if the entire world had faded away, leaving just the two of them.

During the first snowfall of early winter, the person standing by Chu Shangluo’s side was Ren Jiaoming.

After finishing his cigarette, Chu Shangluo tossed it away and pulled out another one from the pack.

Ren Jiaoming took the cigarette from his lips and said, “Smoking too much is bad for your health.”

Chu Shangluo snatched it back, lit it, and took a deep drag before exhaling the smoke slowly. “And who are you to control me? If you can’t stand secondhand smoke and are scared of dying, just leave already.”

Ren Jiaoming, used to being shut down by Chu Shangluo, showed no reaction on his face—it was routine by now.

The air grew colder. Chu Shangluo shoved his hands into his pockets, cigarette still dangling from his lips, eyes fixed on the faint lights in the distance. The city lights burned brightly within the walls, while beyond them, the lights were sparse and dim.

Halfway through the cigarette, he glanced at Ren Jiaoming, who was still silently standing by his side. Then, without a word, he flicked the cigarette away and walked toward Ren Jiaoming’s car.

Once inside, Ren Jiaoming reached over to buckle his seatbelt for him when Chu Shangluo suddenly spoke:

“I’m never going to be with you. You’re wasting your time on me. Why don’t you go find someone new instead? If your social circle’s too small, I can introduce you to someone.”

Ren Jiaoming’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, but he didn’t respond right away, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead.

Chu Shangluo scoffed quietly. He knew it—Ren Jiaoming wouldn’t have a single thing to say.

The car remained silent, so quiet that Chu Shangluo started dozing off. Just as he was about to drift into sleep, he heard Ren Jiaoming’s voice:

“No. It has to be you.”

Chu Shangluo instantly snapped awake. Ren Jiaoming’s stubbornness and selfishness made his blood boil.

“Oh, really? If it has to be me, then show me some sincerity. Kill Chen Ran for me—think you can do that?”

Ren Jiaoming: “No.”

Chu Shangluo folded his arms and let out a mocking laugh.

Ren Jiaoming continued, “If I kill Chen Ran, it won’t bring you satisfaction. You prefer handling things yourself.”

“Tch, you really do know me too well.”

Ren Jiaoming’s gaze locked onto Chu Shangluo’s, intense enough to feel consuming. He spoke seriously:

“Then go kill him yourself. I’ll take the blame for you. As long as you feel better.”

Chu Shangluo stared at him, frowning deeply. Something felt wrong.

This wasn’t the usual Ren Jiaoming. Normally, he’d come up with a carefully calculated plan to deal with Chen Ran, not talk like a madman about taking the fall for murder.

The car entered the city, and the bright lights lining the streets illuminated the dim interior.

It was only then that Chu Shangluo noticed—Ren Jiaoming was wearing gloves.

Ren Jiaoming added, “I know you’re not a killer. But you can beat him half to death, and I’ll handle the rest.”

Chu Shangluo: “…”

“Damn it… Take off those gloves before you keep talking to me.”