Steamed Lipu Taro

Suzhou was covered in fresh snow, carrying a faint lingering fragrance.

Wen Chongyue held Xia Jiao’s hand. He appeared calm, but when Xia Jiao lowered her gaze, she noticed his hand trembling slightly.

That small tremor betrayed him—he was not calm at all.

Xia Jiao said, “…I never thought about it.”

She truly had not considered this possibility. She understood Wen Chongyue’s personality and temperament—he was kind and responsible.

“It’s not just the affection of a husband toward his wife,” Wen Chongyue said. “This has nothing to do with our marriage. Jiao Jiao, I am expressing my love for you as a man, not as your husband bound by duty.”

His cheeks and the tip of his nose were flushed red from the cold. Or perhaps, it wasn’t the chill of the night, the snow, or the wind that caused it, but the person standing before him—Xia Jiao.

“It’s not about responsibility. It’s not about marriage,” Wen Chongyue continued. “Even if I set all that aside, I still want to say these words today.”

Xia Jiao could tell that his words were a little disorganized, but she didn’t mind. Her heart was filled with a light, overflowing warmth. Even though snow was falling, every nerve in her brain was blooming like cherry blossoms in spring. This dazzling and fervent emotion made her open her mouth and say, “Wen Chongyue.”

“I admit that assuming the worst about your normal interactions with other men is wrong,” Wen Chongyue said. “But I can’t stop myself from thinking that way.”

“I also admit that being overly petty about it is something only a teenage boy would do,” he continued. “But I can’t control myself from overthinking.”

“I even feel jealous of your colleagues, jealous that they get to work and spend time with you. I’m jealous of your former male classmates, envious of the youth and school days you shared with them,” Wen Chongyue said. “Forgive me. I can’t help it. It’s beyond my control.”

For the first time, Wen Chongyue was not just listening—he was speaking, revealing everything to Xia Jiao. His gaze never left her as he let all these thoughts spill out.

“I envy their age. I envy that they were there for your youth,” Wen Chongyue said. “Even—”

He paused. “Even your classmates and teachers from middle and high school.”

Xia Jiao’s eyes sparkled. “But the person I was closest to was always Teacher Wen.”

“I never expected you to confess so suddenly. It’s so unexpected…” Xia Jiao’s face was flushed red from the wind. She was delighted, truly happy, like an exhausted office worker who had suddenly won a five-hundred-million-dollar jackpot or like someone walking through a snowstorm and stepping into a warm room. The rush of excitement and surprise overpowered her ability to think. All she could do was clumsily express her thoughts. “Honestly, I always thought our relationship was just about marriage—ah-choo! Ah-choo!”

The cold wind tickled her nose, making her sneeze twice. Wen Chongyue stepped in front of her, shielding her from the wind.

“Let’s talk at home,” he said. “Let’s go back first.”

Both Wen Chongyue and Xia Jiao were a little lightheaded. The night was freezing, snowflakes drifting in the air. The scene sounded romantic, but in reality, it was cold. Holding hands tightly, they walked together. For some reason, at this moment, they resembled two toddlers just learning to walk. Xia Jiao’s steps were awkwardly synchronized, and to match her pace, Wen Chongyue also moved a little stiffly.

He had never been in such an embarrassing situation in his life. He could hear his own heartbeat, glancing at Xia Jiao every now and then while gripping her hand tightly, as if afraid she might slip away if he let go.

Xia Jiao couldn’t escape. She couldn’t stop sneezing, the wind was too cold. After returning home, Wen Chongyue immediately poured her a cup of hot water to hold and wrapped her tightly in a thick blanket.

There were no romantic snowflakes, no wind chilling her voice to a tremble. Inside their warm home, her body temperature slowly rose under the blanket’s embrace. She looked into Wen Chongyue’s eyes and saw a small reflection of herself in them.

His eyes were beautiful, and because of that, the Xia Jiao in his eyes was also glowing.

“You know, I’m timid, socially anxious, afraid of failure, so I never dared to try. I was scared of disappointment, so I didn’t dare to hope,” Xia Jiao said softly. “I never thought you would like me.”

“I…”

Xia Jiao was still too shy to say those three words. Her face was burning up. She put down the cup and told him, “You said that only a fool wouldn’t know you liked her, but actually, you’re a fool too.”

Wen Chongyue asked, “What?”

Xia Jiao whispered, “You didn’t realize someone liked you either.”

“We’re both fools.”

She saw that his eyes had dispelled the winter chill. He said nothing more, just leaned in and kissed her lips.

He was truly a little out of control, his teeth accidentally grazing her lips and breaking the skin. This had never happened before, but Xia Jiao didn’t mind.

Her heart was bursting like fireworks, like a rabbit dancing wildly in her chest, making her nervous yet elated at the same time.

Xia Jiao wrapped her arms around his neck, not rejecting him, choosing instead to take the initiative this time.

She no longer had to fear failure. She no longer had to fear disappointment.

Wen Chongyue gently lifted her up, placing her onto the sweet victory she had won.

A clumsy fool, loving a clever fool in her own careful way.

But—

The next afternoon, Xia Jiao groggily opened her eyes, momentarily dazed. By her pillow lay a red Christmas stocking. She propped herself up on her hands and reached inside, pulling out a beautiful necklace.

It was her Christmas gift.

However, last night’s Christmas Eve had not been very peaceful.

It was already past breakfast and even brunch time. Wen Chongyue had gone out and bought a braised pork with soy sauce, carefully selecting the best cut—two parts lean to one part fat, marbled perfectly. Half was sliced into mahjong-tile-sized pieces and placed atop fresh, green vegetable leaves to be eaten with rice. The other half was simmered with tender tofu over low heat, sprinkled with finely chopped scallions, releasing an enticing aroma.

The rest of the meal was a spread of home-cooked dishes: three-flavor pork slices, salt-and-pepper oyster mushrooms, silky scrambled eggs with beef, and stuffed shiitake mushrooms.

There was also Xia Jiao’s favorite—fragrant steamed Lipu taro.

Xia Jiao picked up her chopsticks, but her hands trembled, and they slipped from her fingers.

Wen Chongyue picked them up himself and replaced them with a spoon. He asked gently, “Do you need me to feed you?”

Xia Jiao shook her head wildly. “I’ve never heard of someone getting confessed to and then being fed by the other person the next day.”

Wen Chongyue replied calmly, “This is normal.”

Xia Jiao protested, “I’ve also never seen anyone act so indulgently right after confessing.”

Wen Chongyue remained composed. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Xia Jiao hesitated before asking, “So… do other couples also do it four times—”

Before she could finish, Wen Chongyue raised his chopsticks and placed a tender piece of scrambled egg and beef into her mouth, smiling. “I believe they do.”

Perhaps she didn’t realize it yet, but now that they had truly confirmed their feelings, their intimacy became a true act of love.

It was a sincere, wholehearted fusion of souls, a perfect harmony, becoming one.

Wen Chongyue decided to restrain his thoughts. Now that he had confirmed his wife’s feelings, he could start acting like a normal adult man. He no longer needed to secretly feel jealous about her teenage crush.

No matter what kind of person Xia Jiao admired when she was young, the one accompanying her now was him. The one who would spend the rest of his life with her was him.

He would no longer let this bother him.

…or at least, he shouldn’t.

Even if he couldn’t completely stop thinking about it, Wen Chongyue believed he could at least control his emotions.

Winter in Suzhou had entered the travel off-season, but that didn’t affect Wen Chongyue and Xia Jiao’s weekend plans. In December, many migratory birds had arrived at Taihu National Wetland Park, seeking shelter—common moorhens, herons, egrets… This was their wintering spot. Wen Chongyue brought binoculars and a camera, and together, they went birdwatching. Besides Taihu National Wetland Park, there were also flocks of migratory birds at Yushan and Shanghu.

On December 31st, they went to Hanshan Temple to listen to the 108 New Year’s Eve bell chimes, a highly sought-after event. Wen Chongyue had secured two tickets for them. He wasn’t a believer in gods or Buddhas, but if they did exist, he prayed they would bless Xia Jiao, allowing her to live a smooth and happy life.

This year’s New Year, as planned, would be spent in Yangzhou, celebrating with Xia Jiao’s parents.

Father Xia and Mother Xia were naturally overjoyed, but they also kept asking about Wen Chongyue’s father, Professor Wen, concerned about how he was doing alone at home.

They were traditional parents. With only one daughter, they were thrilled to have Xia Jiao and Wen Chongyue home for the New Year, but they also cared about his father’s well-being.

Wen Chongyue smiled and reassured them, “Don’t worry, my aunt returned to Beijing and will be spending the New Year with him.”

Father Xia said, “You two should head back to Beijing after the second day of the new year. The holiday is short, and your father isn’t in great health. It’s good to keep him company.”

Wen Chongyue couldn’t refuse, so he agreed.

In the afternoon, relatives started coming over to visit. Most were distant family members who only met once a year. Xia Jiao barely recognized their ranks within the family; she just followed her parents’ lead in addressing them.

During such occasions, Wen Chongyue naturally stayed by her side. In truth, Xia Jiao wasn’t comfortable in these social settings. She had assumed that Wen Chongyue would feel the same, but surprisingly, he didn’t. He remained calm and composed, able to converse easily with everyone. No matter what topic the relatives brought up, he could keep up effortlessly. His words were measured, making every conversation flow smoothly, leaving each person he spoke with feeling at ease. One after another, they praised his personality—steady and reliable.

Xia Jiao was thoroughly impressed by this.

Social confidence to this extent was truly remarkable.

However, no matter how socially adept a person was, they couldn’t always escape drinking engagements. Wen Chongyue’s alcohol tolerance wasn’t particularly high, and after encountering a guest who loved to drink, he started feeling dizzy after just two rounds. Seeing this, Mother Xia pulled Xia Jiao aside and asked her to take Wen Chongyue away.

“How can you drink so much when visiting someone’s home?” Mother Xia looked disapproving. “Take him to your room to rest for a while. Your third aunt’s husband is really something, completely lacking awareness. Who forces people to drink like that?”

With that, Xia Jiao casually made up an excuse and led Wen Chongyue to her bedroom to escape the drinking session.

She couldn’t hide away herself, though. She hadn’t eaten much yet and still had to go back to finish her meal.

Before she left, Wen Chongyue placed a soft kiss on her forehead before finally letting go.

Xia Jiao said, “Why don’t you rest on my bed for a while? Once they leave, I’ll make you some noodles.”

Wen Chongyue replied, “No need to trouble yourself. Just come back and lie down with me for a bit.”

Xia Jiao warned, “Just lying down, nothing else.”

Wen Chongyue sighed. “In broad daylight, what do you think I’d dare to do?”

Only then did Xia Jiao leave, satisfied.

Wen Chongyue did feel a bit of a headache, probably due to the alcohol, but he wasn’t sleepy. Xia Jiao’s room was small, with a bookshelf packed full. He walked over, intending to find a book to read.

There was nothing else to do anyway.

Scanning the shelves from top to bottom, he found mostly magazines from her middle and high school days, along with some textbooks and even practice workbooks. She was a meticulous person who kept almost everything instead of throwing things away.

As he flipped through the books one by one, his fingers stopped on a notebook that seemed familiar.

Wen Chongyue raised an eyebrow.

Back when he had gone to Shanghai to visit friends, he had picked up some notebooks with city-themed covers to bring back as gifts for the students at his tutoring class.

He had bought sixteen in total, keeping one for himself as a souvenir. The rest had been given away as rewards to his students for various reasons.

He hadn’t expected that Xia Jiao had kept one.

Wen Chongyue chuckled. He pulled out the notebook, now filled with writing, and opened it, curious to see her handwriting from her younger years.

Her handwriting as a teenager was neat and precise. Whether in Chinese or English, every stroke was clean and clear.

But hidden among the long English excerpts, tucked away in inconspicuous corners, were three familiar characters written with great care:

“Wen Chongyue.”

Wen Chongyue stood still.

He started flipping through the notebook from the first page, carefully reading through it.

His name appeared beside key English vocabulary words, at the beginning of essays, and beneath complex grammar explanations…

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm golden glow onto the curtains.

The notebook contained ninety pages in total.

His name appeared fifty-two times.