[It was an overwhelmingly passionate first kiss.]

Zhou Leqi hadn’t looked at her phone all day on Lunar New Year’s Eve.

It wasn’t entirely her fault—after all, the day had been chaotic. Zhou Lei’s unexpected appearance left her feeling both agitated and oppressed. During the day, she even secretly took a few Seroxat tablets behind her family’s back.

After the unforgettable finale of the Spring Festival Gala ended and midnight passed, her grandparents had already retired to bed. Yu Mian and Yu Rong’s families stayed until after midnight before leaving. Zhou Leqi waited until everyone had gone before washing up and heading to bed. Once in her room, she finally turned on her phone.

She wanted to wish him a Happy New Year.

Or perhaps… she simply wanted to hear his voice at that moment.

When her phone powered on, it displayed over a dozen missed calls and numerous unread messages—all from him.

“What are you doing?”

“Happy New Year.”

“Busy?”

“? “

“Is something wrong?”

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“Pick up.”

…

“Can you stop scaring me?”

“Zhou Leqi?”

…

Dozens of messages.

Zhou Leqi was momentarily stunned, unsure how to react. Just then, her phone vibrated again—it was him calling.

She quickly ducked under the covers and answered softly.

“…Hello?”

The other end of the line was completely silent for a long while after she said “hello.” She grew anxious and hesitantly called his name: “…Hou Zihao?”

This time, there was a response.

“Do you even know how to answer the phone?”

His voice came through the receiver, clearly angry. The intensity of his tone made it easy for her to imagine him furrowing his brows in frustration.

“On Lunar New Year’s Eve, you didn’t check your phone? Do you have any idea how many calls I made and messages I sent?” His words came faster and faster, his tone growing harsher. “Are you trying to scare me to death? Can’t you spare five seconds out of twenty-four hours to reply to me? Even just telling me you were busy today and couldn’t talk—was that too much to ask?”

He was absolutely furious.

In fact, Hou Zihao was usually very patient and tolerant with Zhou Leqi. He never sought to save face and accepted whatever feedback she gave him. But her previous attempt at suicide had left such a strong impact on him that he could never fully let down his guard. Deep down, he always feared she might hurt herself again.

So, her sudden disappearance today threw him into a panic.

They were separated by four hundred kilometers, relying only on fragile means like phone calls and text messages to stay connected. Yet these methods were so unreliable that her sudden silence triggered endless, bleak thoughts in his mind. Every assumption made him tense, regretful, and acutely aware that he should not have let her be alone.

By now, all the anxiety and discomfort he had accumulated throughout the day had turned into anger. Except for that one incident on the hospital rooftop, he had never been this harsh with her—not even during their arguments about Pei Qiming.

However… Zhou Leqi felt neither afraid nor angry at his current rage. On the contrary, she found that she liked it when he acted this way toward her.

Worrying about her, caring for her, thinking of her.

Loving her intensely and exclusively.

It made her eyes instantly moisten, as if she had suddenly found solace—a mix of relief and vulnerability.

“Hou Zihao…” she called his name in a soft, trembling voice, slightly choking up. “I miss you so much…”

I really miss you.

Thinking of this moment makes me want to rush to you.

The other end fell silent again.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. She no longer had the energy to ponder why he was quiet. After a while, she heard him sigh, then cautiously asked, “…Are you crying?”

She didn’t respond.

“Was it because I was too harsh just now?” His voice softened again, becoming gentle and patient, almost hesitant. “Or… did something happen?”

The evident care and concern in his tone warmed her heart. She felt like crying but also laughing, overwhelmed with things she wanted to tell him. Yet, in the end, she didn’t say any of it.

“It’s nothing,” she replied lightly, as if brushing it off. “It’s the New Year, so I’m just being sentimental.”

He seemed to chuckle—or maybe not. It was unclear whether he truly believed her explanation. Later, she heard him sigh again and ask, somewhat helplessly, “Are you going to sleep?”

“No,” she shook her head, still curled up under the covers. “Let’s talk a little longer.”

He didn’t respond immediately, instead pausing thoughtfully, as if hesitating.

Zhou Leqi noticed and asked, “Is it inconvenient for you?”

He was silent again, as if wanting to say something but stopping himself. After a while, prompted by her follow-up question, he finally said, “…I’m on my way to D City. I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

At 1 a.m., Zhou Leqi sneaked out of her house and sprinted down the small path leading to the coastal boulevard.

Midnight had passed; it was now the first day of the Lunar New Year. Though late at night, the city was still lively, with colorful fireworks bursting in the sky one after another. They lit up the entire night sky within her view, accompanied by deafening booms.

It was actually quite noisy, but at that moment, Zhou Leqi’s world was very quiet.

Very, very quiet.

She couldn’t hear the fireworks, only the sound of the wind rushing past her ears as she ran, her heartbeat, and the distant yet near rhythm of the ocean waves.

She ran through several small paths until she reached the open road. By the early morning of the first day, there were hardly any cars left on the streets. Thus, every passing vehicle might be the one she was waiting for.

Breathless, she waited, her eyes following every taxi that appeared in her line of sight. She watched them grow from distant specks into larger shapes, only to whiz past her moments later. Before she could feel disheartened, she eagerly searched for the next hopeful target. The waves gently lapped against the rocks along the shore, emitting a rhythmic and soothing sound. And under the most brilliant burst of fireworks that night, she finally saw him.

He stepped out of an unremarkable taxi, without a single piece of luggage, appearing abruptly and hastily in her world. Behind him lay a journey of four hundred kilometers and the arduous crossing of an entire year.

He was looking at her, just ten or so meters away. His deep eyes reflected the city’s waves and fireworks, and the girl running toward him.

Without hesitation, she threw herself into his arms.

They had shared many embraces before—unexpected ones, frantic ones, sorrowful ones, helpless ones, sweet ones, surprising ones… countless ones. This particular embrace was merely one among many.

It was not particularly remarkable, just a tiny fragment.

And yet, it felt extraordinarily unique, laden with complex emotions so intense that neither of them could control themselves.

“…Why are you here?”

Her voice and body trembled violently—not from the cold, but from the overwhelming rush of emotion that shattered her defenses.

“What else could I do?” He exhaled hot breath near her ear. Despite everything he had done for her, his tone remained nonchalant. “You didn’t answer your phone…”

That was all.

Simply because she hadn’t answered her phone or replied to his texts all day, he had crossed four hundred kilometers on New Year’s Eve, arriving before her without hesitation.

All just to confirm her safety.

Click.

Sometimes, surrender happens in an instant. At that precise moment, Zhou Leqi distinctly heard a faint sound in her heart—click , as if a key had been inserted perfectly into its lock. Her guarded, wounded heart was unlocked.

It inevitably reminded her of that torrential rainy night when he brought her home drenched from the hospital. In the narrow, dark stairwell, she tried to unlock the door with trembling hands, failing repeatedly. Then he came to her, gently embracing her from behind, guiding her hand to turn the key. Click , and the door opened.

What did he open?

Perhaps just a door. Or perhaps an exit—a way for her to escape some painful cycles, to find a path forward in the vast, cold labyrinth of fate.

He was simultaneously offering her unparalleled stability and unprecedented turmoil.

She had no choice but to follow her instincts and tilt her head to kiss him.

She was dizzy, her mind filled with the sounds of the sea and fireworks. Her world seemed to float on water or hang suspended in midair, swaying without anchor. She felt unfamiliar with this overly bold version of herself but familiar with him—and utterly powerless over this impulsive kiss that surprised even her.

Until, after a brief moment of surprise, he tightened his grip around her waist and decisively took control of the kiss.

…He was actually quite domineering.

As indulgent and gentle as he usually was with her, he was equally commanding and fierce in this moment. As if some restraint had been lifted, his latent possessiveness erupted, making him want to control not only her body but also her breath, her thoughts.

Together, they plunged into tumultuous passion.

Young people—they didn’t yet know how to kiss properly, nor how to manage the extreme, fervent emotions raging inside them. All they could do was clumsily claim each other, surrendering everything they had to the other, their hearts torn between the fear of loss and the ecstasy of gain.

It was an overwhelmingly passionate first kiss. Later, neither of them remembered the specific sensations—the temperature of each other’s lips, the unique scent of the other.

All they could recall were the voices in their hearts at that moment:

I like you.

I really, really like you.

Even at this age, which most consider too young, I still long to solemnly tell you…

…I love you.