“Would you really not consider it again?”

The man’s voice on the phone was young, his tone sincere.

“Ms. Jones loves your work very much; she has been following you since the beginning of your career. In fact, this isn’t much different from your work being included in the exhibition area; as collectors, we would cherish it just as carefully. Setting aside the substantial remuneration, there will also be massive exposure at her engagement banquet. We have invited many media outlets; this would be helpful to you…”

Su Hui felt dizzy; the dull ache made him appear exceptionally patient. He poured a pill into his palm and, taking a sip of cold water, tilted his head back and swallowed it.

When the caller seemed to finish, Su Hui softly declined, “I’m very sorry, my recent state… isn’t very good. I think you should be able to find a more suitable candidate.”

The call ended. The dim room suddenly fell silent—so silent that it made Su Hui’s heart palpitate.

The metallic taste of rust on his tongue hadn’t fully dissipated, and the side effects had already arrived. He sat on the bed, his hands trembling uncontrollably. Su Hui was long accustomed to these things and didn’t think much of them; he just gazed quietly out the window, staring at that gloomy, ash-grey sky.

[Seattle is so boring. Even with weather like this, it still won’t snow.]

He recalled this sentence Liang Wen had said just before leaving.

At that time, he couldn’t say anything, and it was the same at this very moment. He couldn’t respond; it was very impolite, but Liang Wen hadn’t said a word about it. Su Hui was always grateful for his tolerance.

Once the depressive phase arrived, he became dull. His thoughts congealed and grew murky, his emotions plummeted to the bottom, like a worm with a broken spine that could only crawl on the ground without moving—a lifeless, discarded piece of paper.

In his mind, a voice that sounded like—yet unlike—his own kept repeating every flaw he had, every seemingly unforgivable mistake. The ground beneath his feet collapsed inch by inch; it seemed that very soon, he would be forced to flee to the window, fall from the windowsill, and drop into this cold, cold world.

Su Hui turned his head sluggishly, reaching out to the nightstand to grab his sleep mask.

He discovered Liang Wen’s sunglasses lying next to the mask.

Liang Wen had snow blindness; in weather like this, he always wore glasses as a precaution. Su Hui knew he should get up now and return the glasses; after all, this was no small matter—it concerned the other person’s driving safety.

But he couldn’t move at all; his body was controlled by boundless, endless despair.

Avoidance was his inertial reflex.

A long time later, Su Hui dialed Liang Wen’s number, chose to put it on speakerphone, then put on his sleep mask, furrowing his brow as he lay back down with great difficulty.

It clearly wasn’t as cold here as New York, yet he felt frozen through. The hotel duvet felt like a thick layer of ice pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe.

Beep, beep, one after another, cold and sterile. Su Hui closed his eyes. As the medication took effect, the feeling of being suppressed grew heavier. His eardrums throbbed painfully; he couldn’t hear a thing.

Liang Wen didn’t pick up.

He felt as though he had been shoved alive into a terrifying dream. In the distorted space, countless black threads were entangled; his vision was blurred. Su Hui kept running and running, until he suddenly fell into a bottomless hole. Standing up, disheveled and in pain, he discovered a glowing, fluorescent blue cocoon inside. Su Hui approached it little by little, seeing the person hiding within.

It had been a long time since he had dreamed of him.

As if by some mysterious force, his dream self reached out a hand cautiously.

The moment he was within reach, he turned into countless butterflies and flew away.

Ning Yixiao listened to his assistant reminding him of tomorrow’s agenda and looked down at his watch.

His assistant, Carl, was a clever man and immediately asked, “Do you need me to book a flight back for tomorrow? I checked, and there are still some earlier flights with business class seats available.”

“Good.” Ning Yixiao took the room card from the front desk clerk and nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

Carl glanced at the room card in his hand and added, “Sorry, this was the best business hotel I could book on short notice. Christmas is coming, and rooms are hard to find.”

“It’s fine. Go get something to eat.” Ning Yixiao’s expression didn’t change as he walked toward the elevator alone.

Just as he entered the elevator, he received a call from the company regarding a private equity banquet that investors had suddenly requested he attend. It concerned the company’s upcoming financing plan, and the time was set for seven o’clock this evening.

The partner on the other end emphasized the importance of this round of financing repeatedly; it was their most critical turning point.

“I understand. I will be there on time.” The elevator doors opened, and Ning Yixiao stepped out. The intermittent signal gradually returned to normal. He listened to the introduction from his partner’s secretary about the banquet and walked toward the depths of the corridor.

There weren’t many rooms on this floor. He quickly found the room corresponding to the card—2208.

These digits inexplicably caused a slight sense of irritation, so Ning Yixiao stopped for a few seconds, staring quietly. After regaining his composure, he swiped the card and opened the door.

The air in the room was cold, faintly permeating with a very light woody scent. Ning Yixiao closed the door slightly and walked inward, suddenly noticing that there was a faint light in the suite.

Perhaps due to the tension accumulated over a whole day of work pressure, coupled with his obsessive-compulsive nature, he couldn’t quite tolerate such an error.

The person on the other end of the phone felt something was wrong and asked, “Shaw, are you still listening?”

“One moment. I have something to take care of here; let me hang up for now.” Ning Yixiao checked the number on the card and dialed the front desk.

“Hello, has your room been cleaned?”

Suddenly, a voice came from inside the room.

“Liang Wen, are you back?”

A voice he would never forget in this lifetime.

For a moment, Ning Yixiao’s heartbeat nearly stopped. He froze in place. The blood that had been flowing through his body seemed to freeze instantly, turning into viscous, expanding, heavy liquid that was about to burst his capillaries.

That voice still echoed in his mind.

Back…

Ning Yixiao took a difficult step forward. After that first step, his pace became rapid and desperate, as if eagerly chasing an answer.

Su Hui felt it was a bit strange; he didn’t seem to have given Liang Wen his room card. Even if his memory was bad, he wouldn’t forget something like that.

Did Liang Wen not close the door properly? That seemed even more impossible.

Just as he was puzzled, quite suddenly, a cold hand grabbed his eye mask and took it off somewhat roughly.

His chaotic vision gradually cleared.

The person standing before him was unmistakably Ning Yixiao, who had vanished in his dream.

Su Hui didn’t know if this was a hallucination brought on by the medication’s side effects or reality. He just stared quietly at Ning Yixiao’s face until the rims of his eyes turned red.

Ning Yixiao’s hand gripped the eye mask tightly, the skin over his knuckles turning white.

What terrified Su Hui was that he couldn’t open his mouth. It was as if thousands of words were stuck in his chest; in the end, not even a single sound could be uttered.

The two confronted each other in an awkward, silent deadlock for a long time, until a hotel employee entered, a series of apologies squeezing between them, breaking the embarrassment.

“I am truly sorry, I really apologize.” At the front desk, the hotel’s lobby manager bowed repeatedly to apologize.

“It is like this, Mr. Ning, I am truly sorry. Our backend system experienced an issue, confusing the permissions for high-end credit card clients with the large-scale business reservation channels, which resulted in this double booking. Truly sorry, we will resolve this issue as soon as possible. We will upgrade you to the presidential suite for free later; please wait a moment.”

Ning Yixiao didn’t hear a single word the manager said. His peripheral vision remained fixed on Su Hui not far away. Su Hui had only hurriedly draped a coat over himself when he came out; one hand gripped the handle of his suitcase tightly, his head turned toward the front desk clerk who was explaining the situation.

Su Hui’s back looked very thin and very fragile, lacking any sense of security, like a plant about to wither away.

For a moment, many memories that Ning Yixiao thought he had almost forgotten surged up, submerging him like a tide, suffocating him.

He couldn’t help but look at Su Hui. Along his slender shoulder line and arms, he saw Su Hui’s trembling hands.

“You handle it first.” Ning Yixiao asked in a deep voice, “Is there a coffee shop here?”

Hearing this, the manager felt a sense of relief and nodded repeatedly, “Yes, there is, right here in the lobby on the first floor. I will take you there.”

Ning Yixiao glanced over, “Thanks, I see it.”

After rejecting the manager, he walked toward Su Hui.

As he approached, he gradually heard Su Hui’s voice. His tone was exhausted, but he was very polite as he repeated his request to the front desk, “You don’t need to apologize, and I don’t need compensation. Just help me complete the check-out procedure quickly, please. Thank you.”

He spoke very slowly, with some difficulty, as if even saying those words completely required tremendous effort.

Just like how Su Hui had packed his luggage a moment ago—his small white suitcase lay on the floor, and even lifting it upright seemed difficult.

This reminded Ning Yixiao of the him from the past; it seemed he hadn’t changed at all.

The front desk clerk looked at Ning Yixiao standing behind Su Hui, so she interrupted her conversation with him and nodded to Ning Yixiao in apology. Even so, Su Hui did not look back.

“Shall we go get a cup of coffee?”

Su Hui heard Ning Yixiao’s voice; it felt as distant as if it had drifted from six years ago, yet as close as if it were right behind him.

“The check-out procedure should also take a little time.” There was a trace of a smile in Ning Yixiao’s cold voice, “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other; let’s catch up.”

Su Hui knew clearly that his state at this moment was not suited for “catching up.” He was dull and passive, his thoughts chaotic. He felt that taking even one more step felt arduous.

He originally wanted to refuse, and he should have refused.

But his footsteps still moved out of control, following behind Ning Yixiao, just like how even though he couldn’t even get out of bed, he still did so the instant he saw Ning Yixiao.

Su Hui had no idea how he had walked to the coffee shop, or how he was sitting face-to-face with him. It was like a dream from which he couldn’t wake up. There was a “self” standing from a third-person perspective, watching this awkward reunion drama.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, it was very cold. He could vaguely hear some wind, and the sky had darkened much more than before.

For some reason, Su Hui didn’t have the courage to face Ning Yixiao directly. They were clearly sitting face-to-face like this, yet it felt as if they were separated by a large, empty lot covered in shards of glass, impossible to avoid.

The waiter came to take their order. Ning Yixiao was much more relaxed than he had been moments ago, ordering coffee naturally, as if they were old friends with a good relationship. “One espresso, one latte—oat milk, extra sugar.”

He felt he understood Su Hui; ordering based on his past habits seemed almost a matter of course.

“No sugar. No sugar.”

To his surprise, Su Hui, who had been silent all along, spoke up to interrupt him.

Ning Yixiao looked over, saw him lift his eyes, repeat it to the waiter, and then say softly, “Sorry, I’ve given up sugar now.”

This sentence was directed at him, but Su Hui didn’t look at him.

He stayed silent for two seconds and smiled, “My fault. I should have asked beforehand.”

“I thought it was the same as before.”

In the interval while waiting for the coffee, Ning Yixiao gazed quietly at Su Hui sitting before him. At this moment, he seemed to be contradicting his own judgment from just a moment ago.

Su Hui seemed not to have changed, yet also seemed to have changed a great deal.

He still possessed the same beautiful skin that had allowed him to easily obtain everything in the past, capable of easily hiding his flaws and madness. He was still thin—thinner than before. His hair was longer than in the past, resting beside his cheeks; it should have been languid, but because of his sickly and dazed state, even his beauty was gloomy.

His clear eyes seemed to lack that natural, unpretentious pride of the past. Ning Yixiao had thought that was ingrained in his bones and would remain until he died.

Su Hui’s complexion was abnormally pale; only his slightly pursed lips held a trace of blood color. He couldn’t control the slight tremor in his hands, so he placed both hands under the table, pressing down on his knees.

The coffee was placed in front of them. Ning Yixiao took a sip and smiled, “Why aren’t you speaking?”

“Do you not want to see me?”