His cheeks were burning. Zhu Zhixi raised a hand to touch them.

Usually so clever, he now clumsily changed the subject, pointing upwards. “Ah, it’s snowing.”

Fu Rangyi looked at him and almost laughed too, as if he were about to make a few sarcastic remarks.

But he didn’t. He just raised his eyes, looked at the flurry of snow in the sky, and said softly, “Mmm, it’s snowing.”

His heart suddenly started beating very, very fast.

“I…” Zhu Zhixi was even more at a loss. He wanted to turn and leave by himself, but then he remembered something, turned back, spun around halfway, and grabbed Fu Rangyi’s arm. “It’s so cold, so cold, let’s go home quickly.”

“Mmm.” Fu Rangyi stood up, a very faint smile on his face.

Zhu Zhixi didn’t look back, pulling him along the snow-covered tree-lined path on campus until he found he couldn’t pull anymore. He turned back. Fu Rangyi patted his tightly gripping hand, broke free, and unwound the thick, soft scarf from his neck. He opened it up and wrapped it around Zhu Zhixi’s shoulders.

“Let’s go home.”

The snow didn’t stop all the way. It fell slowly and quietly, as if they were still on a stage covered in feathers. The night was a black velvet curtain, the streetlights receded one by one, casting soft, wispy spotlights that intermittently illuminated their two hands, about to hold but not yet held.

Until they got in the car.

On the way home, Zhu Zhixi’s heart pounded unconrollably, and he was nervous, hypersensitive to Fu Rangyi’s every breath. He noticed the phone clipped to the navigation mount vibrate several times. Calls came in frequently, all of which he declined. There were also text messages. Later, Fu Rangyi directly silenced his phone and put it in his pocket.

“Is it work?”

Fu Rangyi said it wasn’t, calmly stating, “Sales calls.”

Back home, they ate dinner together, bickering as usual. He took out the collection of artifacts he had been saving for a long time to consult with Professor Fu. And while he was explaining carefully, he casually took off the bracelet he was still wearing and placed it on the table.

Everything seemed normal. Zhu Zhixi casually said goodnight, returned to his room, put away the two postcards, and crawled into the tent where Fu Rangyi had lain.

He zipped up the curtain, and all his pretense came crashing down.

The countdown had made huge progress, but his heart was in a mess. He tossed and turned, his mind full of the way Fu Rangyi looked at him, the things he said. Those words that could make him misunderstand, yet were so calm.

The more he tried to analyze it, the more confused he became, his thinking becoming more and more restrained and dull, until finally, he had tied himself in knots.

He had relentlessly fought for and gotten special treatment. And then what? What was the next thing he was going to chase after Fu Rangyi for?

Fu Rangyi didn’t have much.

A fragile heart, hidden wounds, so many painful secrets he was unwilling to reveal.

Zhu Zhixi even began to feel scared. He was a complete blank in this area.

He was worried it was all a misunderstanding, and even more worried about misinterpreting his own feelings. What if he just found it fun to tease him, what if he was just developing a dependency because of the countdown, and in that dependency and time together, feelings of heartache, pity, and some affection had sprung up, all mixed together, tricking even himself? What should he do when he woke up one day?

He was so afraid of Fu Rangyi getting hurt because of him, yet he was addicted to the intense emotional turmoil that came with every intimate contact.

After lying in the tent for a long, long time, Zhu Zhixi was so overwhelmed by his cautious heart that he couldn’t breathe. He listlessly crawled out, rolled around on the carpet, got up, went to bed, and tried to sleep.

I’m already very tired today, battling wits with an angel, and browsing the market. Zhu Zhixi, you need to rest.

The self-hypnosis failed.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. He remembered Fu Rangyi imitating Xiao Yu, and that ticking sound surrounded him, never stopping for a moment.

In the darkness, Zhu Zhixi got up again, went to the window, and pulled open the curtains to look down.

“Wow,” he let out a soft, small gasp of surprise.

And so, at one-thirty in the morning, he put on a thick, light blue down jacket over his pajamas, took the large scarf Fu Rangyi had given him, found some things in the kitchen, and tiptoed downstairs to an open space in the public garden. It was already covered in a layer of snow, soft to step on.

He grabbed a few handfuls of snow from the tops of the bushes. He rolled it for a long time, but it was all coarse. In the end, he took off his gloves and used his palms to shape it.

A not-so-regular head was born.

Zhu Zhixi placed it in his palm, examined it for a while, then squatted down and set it up properly. He scooped up another handful of fresh snow.

“I’ll make another snowball.”

As he muttered this to himself, he suddenly paused. A snowball? A strange sense of familiarity washed over him, then quickly disappeared.

The countdown on his palm brightened for a moment, like a candle flame fanned by the wind, but it quickly returned to normal.

By the time he had rolled the other ball, his legs were almost numb from squatting. He stacked the two together, admiring the snowman’s prototype, when he suddenly heard the sound of a branch breaking behind him.

Zhu Zhixi was startled and whipped his head around. The snowman’s head fell off.

But when he saw who had come, he was so stunned that he sat down on the ground with a plop.

The large cashmere scarf was wrapped around his frost-bitten face, making Zhu Zhixi look like a Russian doll, with a pair of large, translucent eyes staring unblinkingly at Fu Rangyi.

“Why are you here?” he asked in a super quiet voice.

Fu Rangyi was wearing a long, snow-white down jacket. He wasn’t wearing glasses, and his hair was messy from the wind, making him look less composed than usual and more like a refreshing youth.

“Your door closing was too loud, you woke me up. We’re not at home now, so I don’t have to follow the roommate rules, right?” he answered in a normal volume, then raised the bag in his hand. “I was a little hungry, so I went to the 24-hour convenience store.”

Was it that loud? I was so quiet when I closed the door.

“You must have insomnia. And didn’t you say you don’t eat convenience store food? You even said it’s full of additives.”

“Mmm, occasionally I supplement myself with some additives.”

Zhu Zhixi was amused by his deadpan seriousness.

He walked over and naturally reached out to pull Zhu Zhixi up. “I brought you this.” He took out a bottle of warm chocolate milk, unscrewed the cap, and handed it over.

“Wow, my favorite!”

After just one sip, he felt like he had come back to life. He was so happy he could have burst with heat.

“Thank you,” Zhu Zhixi said with a beaming smile.

Fu Rangyi took out another bottle and was about to remove the insulated packaging when he was stopped.

“Just drink this one, otherwise they’ll both get cold.” Zhu Zhixi picked up a few small branches from the ground, comparing them to choose suitable ones for arms.

Fu Rangyi hesitated for a moment, then took his advice and took a small sip. Then, for some reason, he couldn’t screw the cap back on properly.

It seemed to be broken.

He ended up drinking the whole bottle, threw away the damn broken bottle, and when he came back, the snowman was already built.

“Fu Rangyi, look!” He held up his masterpiece, his face beaming. “Cute, right?”

Fu Rangyi wasn’t looking at the snowman, but he nodded.

But when he really looked at the snowman, his brain suddenly short-circuited, and he blurted out his true thoughts. “So ugly.”

“Hey! How can you be like that? I asked you if it was cute and you nodded. You did it on purpose, right?”

That’s a different matter.

Fu Rangyi pointed to the snowman’s head. “Isn’t this nose a bit too long?”

“It is, but I didn’t have time to carve the carrot, so I just brought the whole thing down. I actually brought a knife, but my hands were too cold and I was too lazy to carve it.”

Fu Rangyi was a little speechless. After a moment of silence, he said, “Actually, there’s a box of baby carrots on the side of the fridge.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier!”

“You didn’t ask me.”

Zhu Zhixi pouted, looking back at the snowman. “A little long is a little long. Let’s just say he’s Snowman Pinocchio.”

Fu Rangyi wanted to laugh. “Mmm, it looks just like him. Be careful you don’t get sued for copyright infringement.”

Zhu Zhixi apparently took him seriously for a second, sucking in a breath of cold air and putting the snowman on the ground.

“Just kidding,” Fu Rangyi pointed. “It doesn’t even have eyes. It doesn’t look like him.”

This explanation was clearly not what Zhu Zhixi wanted and was even more off-topic. But he didn’t notice, his eyes lowered and fixed on Zhu Zhixi’s hands, which were as red as carrots.

“Is the countdown still ticking fast now?”

As he asked, he took off his own gloves, put them away, and then looked at Zhu Zhixi. Seeing that he didn’t refuse, he took his hand.

Fu Rangyi knew his hands were usually cold. Before coming, he had warmed them with that bottle of chocolate milk and had worn gloves, so they were very warm now. His palm was large, easily enveloping the frozen hand.

Zhu Zhixi was unusually quiet.

Late at night, surrounded by snow-covered pines and cypresses, the cold air was misty and sharp enough to make one’s nose sting. Zhu Zhixi stared blankly at Fu Rangyi holding his hand. Higher up, his wrist was bare, without a bracelet.

Are you releasing pheromones right now?

How much?

A little more, press down on my shoulders, let me feel it.

Let me smell like a cold garden of flowers.

Timidity and desire pulled back and forth, and finally, the latter gained the upper hand. Zhu Zhixi pulled his hand away, his lips parted, and some ambiguous craving flowed out with the white mist. Soon, he shyly crossed his arms and clutched his scarf, hiding his face. Then, little by little, he separated them, took a step closer in the snow, almost pressing against Fu Rangyi’s chest.

“Professor Fu, there’s no one here now.”

Hearing this, Fu Rangyi raised his eyebrows slightly. “Hmm?”

“No students,” Zhu Zhixi said in a super quiet voice.

“You want me to help you?” Fu Rangyi tilted his head, his expression unchanged, his eyes fixed on the red mole on his eyelid.

Why say it so bluntly?

Zhu Zhixi hummed like a mosquito, taking it as an affirmative.

“Then… do you mind?”

“Mmm.”

What?? Zhu Zhixi looked at him, a little hurt. “Really?”

“If it were someone else.” Fu Rangyi smiled lightly, lowered his head, and lifted his chin with his finger.

Zhu Zhixi closed his eyes nervously. But the kiss was not what he expected. It landed unexpectedly on his left, thin eyelid.

“Hmm?” Dazed and confused, he opened his eyes, and in that instant, soft lips descended, gently pressing against his.

His breath stopped. His limbs instantly went soft, electricity shot through him, his fingertips tingled and went numb, and his mind went blank. Zhu Zhixi felt dizzy.

Gradually, in this extremely gentle kiss, he was enveloped by a sense of pressure, so heavy it was suffocating, as if a thousand tons of snow had fallen on him.

Snow that smells of grapefruit blossoms, he imagined.

He couldn’t move, but he didn’t want Fu Rangyi to know. He was afraid he would pull back completely.

This was the only way he could perceive Fu Rangyi’s pheromones.

The soft lips left. Fu Rangyi even helped him cross and wrap the scarf that was covering his head, like drawing a curtain, covering his blushing cheeks.

“Alright.” He took Zhu Zhixi’s still-stiff wrist, tapped the countdown on it, and his lips moved as if he had silently said something. Then he let go.

“Let’s go back.”

Zhu Zhixi stood there for a good while before picking up the snowman and following Fu Rangyi’s footsteps. Crunch, crunch. The sound of them stepping on the snow gradually overlapped.

“Are you taking this back too?”

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?” Zhu Zhixi said with deliberate malice. “You think it’s ugly, right? Well, I’m going to give it to you anyway, and I’ll put it on the windowsill in your room.”

Fu Rangyi took the freezing snowman. “There’s heating at home. How long can your snowman live?”

Zhu Zhixi huffed. “It’ll die tomorrow.”

Fu Rangyi looked at the snowman in his palm and said seriously, “Then I’ll wear white tomorrow.”

“What for?”

“To mourn for it.”

“You’re so ridiculous.”

Zhu Zhixi was amused and laughed, so Fu Rangyi laughed too. Their laughter overlapped, sounding exceptionally clear in the snowy night.

The next day, Fu Rangyi indeed wore a white coat. After sending him off to work, he quietly went to the master bedroom and glanced at the windowsill.

As expected, overnight, all that was left was a long carrot.

The snowman had long since melted.

__

Author’s Note:

Two delicate and sensitive babies.
First love is always a little timid and tangled. Don’t worry, you two can retake and make up for this subject of love together. (Don’t worry, Xiao Fu, I’ll help you two out.)