Goji Berry Pumpkin Millet Porridge

In Xia Jiao’s memory, Wen Chongyue had always had good eyesight. He never wore glasses during the day, only occasionally at night when reading or during video conferences.

Though slightly dazed, Xia Jiao earnestly introduced them. “This is Yang Ye, remember him? Chongyue, he’s my high school classmate…”

Wen Chongyue walked over as Yang Ye extended a hand. Wen Chongyue looked at him for a moment, as if carefully studying his face, before smiling and shaking his hand. “Ah, Mr. Yang. Sorry, my eyes have been a bit uncomfortable today, so I didn’t recognize you right away.”

Yang Ye laughed and assured him it was no problem.

Wen Chongyue gestured toward a café. “I’ve heard from colleagues that the coffee here is quite good. Shall we have a cup together?”

Yang Ye declined, smiling. “No, thank you. I have an old issue—if I drink coffee at this hour, I can’t sleep at night.”

After a bit of polite small talk, Yang Ye left. As Xia Jiao and Wen Chongyue walked side by side, Xia Jiao couldn’t help but feel puzzled. Did Yang Ye not want to have coffee with Wen Chongyue? Or was there another reason? Just a moment ago, he had invited her for coffee, but now he claimed it would cause insomnia…

Unable to figure it out, Xia Jiao shook her head and let it go.

She asked about Wen Chongyue’s eyesight, and he casually explained that it was nothing serious—just some eye strain from staring at a screen for too long that afternoon.

When they stepped outside, the sky was still gloomy. The winter weather in the south was the kind that seemed like it would never clear up, with moisture in the air that felt ready to freeze into tiny droplets. Xia Jiao checked her phone and told Wen Chongyue, “The weather forecast says there might be light snow tonight.”

Wen Chongyue responded with a hum. Unhurried, he first helped Xia Jiao buckle her seatbelt, then leaned over to kiss her cheek. Dissatisfied with just that, he pressed his lips to hers, teasing her tongue into an intimate tangle. Xia Jiao couldn’t resist and let out muffled sounds before he finally let her go.

“It doesn’t matter if it snows,” Wen Chongyue said. “Tonight, we’re having beef hot pot.”

“Wow!”

As usual, they stopped to buy ingredients before heading home. Holding hands, Wen Chongyue took Xia Jiao to the market. They first picked out beef from a vendor who sold lamb and beef. The vendor, a Uyghur man wearing a traditional hat, enthusiastically explained, “How do you plan to cook it? For kebabs or thin slices, go with leg meat. For stewing, choose the loin. And if you’re making braised beef, the shank is best…”

Wen Chongyue chose some beef leg meat and asked the vendor to slice it. The vendor skillfully cut the meat into clean, neat slices.

Next, they went to buy vegetables. Wen Chongyue carried the groceries in one hand and held Xia Jiao’s hand with the other, letting her pick this time. He told her to learn how to choose good produce. For hot pot, napa cabbage was a must—one large head of cabbage, a pack of baby napa cabbages with three heads, a bundle of golden needle mushrooms, a fresh block of tender tofu, and some shrimp.

After finishing their shopping at the market, they went to the supermarket to grab some beer. On the way home, Xia Jiao leaned against the car window and exclaimed in delight, “Wen Chongyue, it’s really snowing!”

Wen Chongyue smiled. “Yes, it’s snowing.”

This was the first snowfall of the year in Suzhou. It wasn’t heavy, but stepping into it, one could barely notice the flakes. The southern scenery, known for its delicate beauty, was reflected in the snow, which fell in soft, intricate patterns.

After parking the car, Wen Chongyue didn’t immediately head to the elevator. Instead, he took Xia Jiao’s hand and strolled around the community, letting her enjoy the sight of the snowflakes. Only after she had her fill of the view did they return to the car, gather their groceries, and head upstairs.

Beef hot pot was a simple dish—a quick and hearty meal. The broth didn’t require a fancy stock, just half a pot of hot water and some soy sauce, resembling what Shanghainese people jokingly call “soy sauce soup.” The washed napa and baby cabbages were placed at the bottom of the pot. After cooking for fifteen minutes, they added the cleaned golden needle mushrooms, arranging them in a flower-like pattern around the pot. Mushrooms take longer to cook, so it’s better to let them simmer thoroughly to avoid stomach discomfort. Sliced king oyster mushrooms and shiitakes were added to the center, along with tofu cut into small, Mahjong-tile-sized cubes. Finally, a handful of plump, white bean sprouts was scattered on top. The pot was left to simmer gently, and once the broth began to boil, thin slices of beef were layered on top.

Winter cabbage was at its best, with a subtle sweetness and no coarse fibers. Wen Chongyue prepared stir-fried shrimp to pair with beer. They started eating at the dining table, but when Xia Jiao wanted to watch the snow, Wen Chongyue moved a small wooden coffee table to the floor-to-ceiling window. He spread a thick blanket on the ground, and they sat cross-legged, chatting as they ate.

When the hot pot was nearly finished, they cooked udon noodles in the broth, cracking in a few raw eggs to make soft-boiled onsen eggs.

Wen Chongyue had also made goji berry pumpkin millet porridge. He had started it as soon as they got home, letting it simmer over low heat. By the time they finished eating, the porridge was warm and creamy, ready to drink. Xia Jiao only managed half a bowl, leaving the rest for Wen Chongyue to finish.

She drank a can of beer, and Wen Chongyue, unusually indulgent, didn’t stop her. She could drink as much as she wanted, but her tolerance had noticeably decreased. After one can, she was already lightheaded, letting Wen Chongyue do as he pleased. Her own consciousness was hazy, so she didn’t resist much.

Wen Chongyue, however, wasn’t in the mood for any teasing gestures or playful words today. He simply held her close, gently and insistently kissing her cheeks before moving to her lips, inch by inch pulling her into his embrace.

Xia Jiao frowned. This time, there was no gradual progression. She tried to push away, but she was firmly pulled back.

“Jiao Jiao,” Wen Chongyue called her name softly. “My little Jiao Jiao.”

Xia Jiao felt both embarrassed and annoyed. She mumbled a faint response as Wen Chongyue’s lips pressed against her wrist, wrapping her in his arms. His murmurs were indistinct, his voice carrying a hint of emotion: “It’s a good thing I went over that day.”

At this moment, Xia Jiao couldn’t focus on what he was saying. What “that day”? What “a good thing he went”? Was he talking about the blind date? Right now, her mind was completely blank, incapable of processing anything. If she was being pushed down, then so be it. If she was being stir-fried like a dish, then so be it. All she could do was enjoy the moment, unable to spare any thoughts for anything else.

Xia Mi suddenly jumped in and pushed the door open, only to see the male owner kneeling on the bed, completely shielding Xia Jiao’s figure. All that was visible was one of Xia Jiao’s legs, stretched out like a rabbit caught by the ears. Her toenails were painted in a lovely color, delicately curled as they reached upward. Beautiful and clean, they were held gently in a large hand. His face lowered as he kissed her nails with tender care. All of this fell softly into Xia Mi’s cat-like eyes.

The first snow of the season fell quietly over Suzhou City during the night. It wasn’t heavy, as it seldom snowed much in this water-town of Jiangnan, where the air was damp but the temperature rarely low enough. By the next morning, the snow had stopped, and the streets were clean without a trace of snow. Only the rooftops, car tops, and treetops retained a shimmering white layer, reminding everyone of the snowfall from the previous night.

With the snow’s arrival, the presence of winter became more apparent.

In the shop, the elderly man had been coming in alone to buy flowers again. He mentioned that as the weather grew colder, Grandma Song’s health was not very good. The cold winter weather often caused elderly people to fall ill. Grandma Song had undergone surgery not long ago and had just started recovering, but the chill was too much for her to bear, so she stayed home to rest.

Sometimes it was the grandfather who came to buy flowers, and sometimes it was Song Xiao.

Song Xiao had recently cut her hair short, neatly trimmed, just barely covering her ears. She had also moved to a new place, now living with Grandma Song. If the grandfather was too busy, she would come to the flower shop instead.

“My grandmother loves flowers,” Song Xiao mentioned casually. “Now that she’s unwell, traveling is inconvenient for her. So, Grandpa brings her flowers to brighten her mood.”

Xia Jiao handed her the wrapped flowers. Song Xiao took them, hugged them in her arms, and was about to leave when she suddenly turned back and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Caught off guard, Xia Jiao froze. Song Xiao, holding the flowers tightly, brushed her hair aside and hurried out of the shop.

As Christmas approached, more young couples came to the shop to buy flowers. There were also requests from various stores for floral decorations. After being busy for nearly a month, Xia Jiao finally reached Christmas Eve. She had planned to go home early, but Yu Qingzhen caused trouble again.

Yu Qingzhen had gotten into a brawl with a group of vocational school kids and was brought to the police station for a lecture.

The explanation left Xia Jiao utterly bewildered. She rushed over, only to find out that Yu Qingzhen had encountered Zhu Mengcheng in a fight. Initially, she tried to mediate, but the other party turned on her, which enraged Yu Qingzhen’s fiery temper. She stepped in and showcased her combat skills, only to end up at the police station.

It was Yu Qingzhen who called Xia Jiao, asking her to bail her out.

When Xia Jiao arrived, the police were both amused and helpless. “…Someone your age should know better. How did you end up involved in something like this? And you reek of alcohol—how much did you drink? Anyway, your friend is here now, so just go home.”

After being reprimanded, Yu Qingzhen drooped her head. The vocational school students were gradually picked up by their guardians, leaving only Zhu Mengcheng behind.

His father wasn’t in town, and no one came for him.

If they waited for a guardian—no, that wouldn’t happen.

In the end, it was Yu Qingzhen who explained the situation to the police. After some discussion, they decided to let him go too. Thankfully, the incident wasn’t too serious. Both sides were at fault, and after being reprimanded and reconciled, the other party’s family chose not to pursue the matter.

Although Xia Jiao didn’t have a good impression of Zhu Mengcheng, the boy sincerely and awkwardly bowed twice to her, expressing his gratitude for her help.

Getting a ride home on Christmas Eve was difficult, especially with light snow falling and couples crowding the streets. Xia Jiao used a ride-hailing app and waited for five minutes, but no car arrived. Seeing them shivering, Zhu Mengcheng went to a nearby store and bought two packets of hot milk. Without a word, he handed one to each of them to warm their hands.

At that moment, a car stopped nearby. The window rolled down, revealing Yang Ye’s surprised and delighted face. “Jiao Jiao?”

“Oh, it’s you!” Xia Jiao exclaimed.

By coincidence, Yang Ye’s new rental was close to where Xia Jiao lived. He drove them to the subway station first, dropping off Yu Qingzhen and Zhu Mengcheng, and then took Xia Jiao home. During the ride, Wen Chongyue called, asking why she wasn’t home yet. Xia Jiao explained honestly, including the fact that she was currently being given a ride.

Wen Chongyue calmly acknowledged it without saying much.

Xia Jiao didn’t think much of it until they reached her neighborhood. From a distance, she saw Wen Chongyue standing in the snow. Yang Ye stayed in the car while she got out and, thrilled, ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist. “Why are you waiting out here? It’s so cold! Look at your hands, they’re freezing…”

Her hands were small. Holding them in his, Wen Chongyue let her cover them with her own, trying to warm him up.

But then, Wen Chongyue raised her hand, his lips brushing against the back of it as he asked softly, “Why did you come back with him?”

“I told you on the phone, didn’t I?” Xia Jiao replied earnestly. “It was just a coincidence. I couldn’t get a ride, so Yang Ye offered us a lift.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Wen Chongyue asked. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Well, the place was far from home,” Xia Jiao explained seriously. “And you’ve been so busy with work. There’s no need to trouble you over something this small. I’m not that spoiled.”

Wen Chongyue said nothing more. He held her hand as they walked, listening to her chatter. His chest felt heavy, the snowflakes landing on his hair, and despite the cold, there was a restless fire burning within him.

Xia Jiao added, “Besides, I think I might have been prejudiced about some things.”

Wen Chongyue responded softly, “For example?”

“For example, vocational school students,” Xia Jiao said. “I used to think those bad kids from vocational schools were really annoying, that they were all bad people… but I was wrong. Some of them, even though they look like bad kids and seem fierce, actually have a kind side to them.”

Wen Chongyue replied, “Mm.”

Xia Jiao tilted her face up, and small snowflakes landed on her cheeks, light and soft. She raised her hand to catch them, sighing, “I feel like sometimes I only see the surface of things. I’m really a fool.”

Wen Chongyue said, “You are indeed a fool.”

Xia Jiao turned around, “Huh?”

Wen Chongyue stopped walking. He stood in the snow, holding Xia Jiao’s hand tightly. In Xia Jiao’s mind, Wen Chongyue had always been mature, rational, and steady. He was older than her, experienced but not worldly, someone who appreciated both the grandness of the world and the beauty of the small things.

But the words he just said didn’t sound like something Wen Chongyue would say. He would always laugh and call her “silly” or “little fool,” but he had never been so blunt as to call her a “fool,” and it didn’t sound like teasing. He seemed a bit upset.

Wen Chongyue, who usually had a steady control over his emotions, was showing his displeasure.

This was the first time.

Xia Jiao paused for a moment. She asked, “Is something bothering you today?”

Wen Chongyue nodded. “Yes.”

“About what?”

“About you.”

Xia Jiao stopped moving, and she began to think about what she had done today. Was it because she didn’t tell him where she was after work? Or was it because she had gone to the police station? Or was it…?

“I’m afraid you’ll laugh at me,” Wen Chongyue said quietly, standing still. “I’m already at this age.”

Xia Jiao responded, “Huh? You’re not that old.”

“Let me finish,” Wen Chongyue interrupted her. “Jiao Jiao, just listen to me. I’m already at this age, and logically, I shouldn’t be bothered by little things, nor should I feel uneasy or troubled by trivial matters.”

Xia Jiao didn’t understand what he meant. She gripped his hand tightly and looked up at him.

“But there are always some things I can’t control. I can’t stop them from happening, or hold my emotions in check,” Wen Chongyue explained calmly. “It makes me feel like an eighteen-year-old fool. It makes me happy, makes me delighted, but at the same time, it makes me anxious, makes me worried, makes me restless, makes me constantly overthink, become jealous, feel insecure, be fickle, and hold grudges.”

Xia Jiao asked, “Because of what?”

Wen Chongyue looked into her eyes. He said, “Because I love you.”

“Because I fell for a clever little fool.”

“Because I’m not sure if this little fool loves me back.”