Chapter 45 “Coax Me.”

The two walked toward each other, one with quick steps, the other with slow steps, until the broad snow curtain between them turned into a narrow gap.

Seeing Jiang Yao’s flushed cheeks and nose, and the obviously somewhat blurry gaze, Duan Zhuxian said, “I guessed you would drink. Going home now?”

The snow was falling thinly between them, like some continuous barrier. Jiang Yao slightly tilted his head, his gaze passing over Duan Zhuxian’s shoulder to the greenbelt dozens of meters away where Duan Zhuxian’s car was temporarily parked.

Duan Zhuxian should have returned specifically.

If he had already left, why come back?

Did he suddenly remember he had a partner left behind?

Jiang Yao stared fixedly at Duan Zhuxian, then nodded after a while.

Seeing Jiang Yao’s slightly hesitant appearance, Duan Zhuxian just assumed he was drunk and slow to react.

The two walked together toward the car.

Jiang Yao extinguished his cigarette, looked ahead, and asked casually, “I heard from your classmates that you left early?”

Duan Zhuxian responded with a simple “Hmm.”

Jiang Yao lowered his head and stared at the shadows on the ground, holding his breath and waiting for a long time without receiving any further explanation from Duan Zhuxian.

It was quite normal; Duan Zhuxian never offered him explanations.

Whether it was refusing to acknowledge their friendship back then, or later changing his college entrance exam preferences.

There was no need for him to bother with such trivial matters, but at this moment, Jiang Yao suddenly found himself unable to control his concern. An unknown emotion was stirring in his chest, expanding without any hindrance.

With his gaze lowered, Jiang Yao glanced sideways.

In the night, Duan Zhuxian showed no particular emotion. His profile was distinct and indifferent, with the slightly high collar of his winter school uniform encasing his motionless Adam’s apple.

Everything was so familiar that Jiang Yao suddenly realized something, and as he focused, he couldn’t stop the surge of memories—

It was as if the entire world had suddenly rewound ten years, to that night of their fallout.

The same school uniforms, the same heavy snow, the same cold air, the snowflakes like knives and the bitter north wind carving a scar on his heart that had never healed since.

Actually, calling it a scar was misleading, as there was no blood. It was just cold, left untreated, and gradually it stopped hurting, becoming almost negligible.

But Duan Zhuxian had to reappear, entering his world in the most forceful way, occupying his life and constantly reminding him of the existence of this wound.

Next, he remembered the first snowfall after he entered college. He had gone to Q University to spend Christmas with Shen Tang, and under Duan Zhuxian’s orchestration, he met Shen Tang’s girlfriend. Duan Zhuxian had specially rushed over, stirring his coffee while watching Jiang Yao’s misery.

Snow plus Duan Zhuxian always made him sad.

The three elements almost formed a predetermined equation.

Probably due to some sort of stress response, Jiang Yao’s foggy brain suddenly became alert, as if something bad was approaching.

When they reached the greenbelt, his premonition peaked, and Jiang Yao couldn’t help but speak first: “You know Duan Zhuxian, every time it snows, the person I least want to see is you.”

Duan Zhuxian was stunned for a moment, then said, “Is it because it was snowing the day we argued?”

Jiang Yao sneered, “So you still remember those trivial things, huh.”

Duan Zhuxian unlocked the car and walked around to the passenger side, somewhat helplessly saying, “I understand. You were angry back then because I confiscated your love letter. That matter was indeed my fault—”

Jiang Yao interrupted him, “You don’t understand!”

Duan Zhuxian paused with his hand on the car door, turning to see Jiang Yao still standing three meters away under the streetlamp, bathed in warm yellow light, but with an expression as cold as the snow in the air.

“What does a love letter matter? I’m angry about your attitude. I said at the time that I understood your duty in confiscating my love letter. I didn’t say anything out of anger. I’m not unreasonable.”

Jiang Yao spoke too quickly, the wind catching his breath for a moment. He took a deep breath, and his voice lowered significantly.

“I joked that we had some sort of friendship, and anyone with a conscience wouldn’t be so heartless. But you, you not only denied it, you walked away without looking back. You couldn’t even make up a comforting lie. You knew full well…”

You knew full well that I’m soft-hearted.

If you had said anything kind, I would have forgiven you.

Looking at Jiang Yao’s hesitant expression, his knuckles tightening and relaxing repeatedly, Duan Zhuxian felt a sudden pang in his heart.

All these years, he had always thought their fallout was due to the love letter. Jiang Yao, with his strong personality, couldn’t accept having something he worked hard on taken away before it even reached its intended recipient.

But he was also angry back then. Jiang Yao had promised no early romances, yet turned around and liked someone else, summarizing their two years of interaction with a dismissive “a bit of a friendship.”

His teenage pride and resentment made him avoid the issue that night, fearing that speaking would reveal his own feelings of “liking.”

They stayed silent for many years.

But now, no excuse could justify it—whether it was liking too much or cowardly avoidance, he had made Jiang Yao sad, and for so many years.

He didn’t even dare to recall how, back then, every angry glare and every sharp word from Jiang Yao contained a mix of resentment and disappointment, and perhaps a faint hint of expectation—that he might apologize for walking away that night.

“The snow is getting heavier. Can we get in the car first?” Duan Zhuxian said gently, taking a few steps closer to Jiang Yao. He could see the stubborn eyes under the wind-blown hair, eyes misty but resolute, and his heart ached again.

Avoiding his gaze, Jiang Yao looked down, staring at his shoes for a few seconds. When he looked up again, there was a self-mocking smile on his lips.

“Actually, that night, I stood in the snow for a long time, waiting for you to come back and apologize, but you never showed up.”

Duan Zhuxian’s steps halted, and turmoil rose in his eyes once more.

That night, after he left, he came back again. He was mistaken for the last customer on Valentine’s Day at a flower shop and was given a bouquet of irises.

But he had turned back too late; Jiang Yao had already left in disappointment.

If he had conquered his foolish pride a little earlier, if he had begged Jiang Yao not to push him away, saying he still wanted to maintain their relationship—even if just as friends with a small bond—would these years they missed out on have had a different story? A story not so fragmented?

The wind howled louder, stirring the snow near the ground and swirling all their fragmented memories into the same vortex.

He wanted Jiang Yao to get in the car first, not to stand in the freezing wind.

But Jiang Yao stared at him intently, the corners of his eyes reddened by the biting cold, and spoke again: “That day, after the racetrack, I sold you information about Duan Feiyi’s gambling. You still owe me a reward, remember?”

His voice had calmed but was slightly hoarse, as if it might shatter any second.

Duan Zhuxian’s throat tightened, “I remember.”

Jiang Yao nodded, taking two steps closer to the man before him, “Duan Zhuxian, I want you, right now, to coax me.”