Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
The first time Shang Zhitao had seen Luan Nian’s friends was in Zang Yao’s travel journal. Back then, Song Qiuhan and Chen Kuannian weren’t part of the group. Now that she thought about it, that was already ten years ago.
In the journal, a young Shang Zhitao had seen them soaking in hot springs in snowy Hokkaido, drinking, laughing, and Luan Nian playfully tossing Zang Yao into the snow. At that time, she had just experienced a personal explosion—a breakdown of sorts.
She knew then that Luan Nian cherished his freedom, and she, without a legitimate place in his life, always deliberately yet tactfully avoided his calls and never asked about his whereabouts. Even after they began dating, she never demanded to meet his friends or family.
Back then, she had remained as calm as an outsider.
Today, however, being part of this gathering felt incredible—not only because they were Luan Nian’s friends but also because they were genuinely good people. Shang Zhitao had once wondered how someone as picky and sharp as Luan Nian could have friends, and now she realized they must be incredibly tolerant of him.
She sat quietly, listening to their lively conversation. The topics ranged widely, covering everything under the sun.
After a while, Lin Chun’er and Xiao Mei grew restless and turned to Shang Zhitao: “Do you want to get bubble tea?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Shang Zhitao and Luan Nian spoke at the same time. She turned to him: “Why not?”
Luan Nian didn’t want her to leave—he hadn’t had enough of the satisfaction of having his girlfriend by his side. But Shang Zhitao ignored him, mimicking his raised eyebrow, and went with the girls to buy bubble tea.
Once outside the restaurant, Lin Chun’er immediately imitated Luan Nian, adopting a stern expression:
“Tan Mian, this restaurant you picked today wasn’t good enough.”
“Just eat—stop talking so much.”
“Lin Chun’er and Song Qiuhan, sit farther apart.”
“How do you put up with Chen Kuannian, Xiao Mei?”
Her imitation was spot-on, and Shang Zhitao nearly burst out laughing. Xiao Mei chimed in:
“I’m not single—I just have a very busy girlfriend.”
The group erupted in laughter, and Shang Zhitao nodded: “Too accurate! That’s exactly what he’s like.”
“I always thought someone like him wouldn’t have any friends.” Shang Zhitao remarked.
“I thought he’d never find a girlfriend in his entire life!” Lin Chun’er added, then asked her: “How’s business going?”
“It’s just starting out, so it’s okay. There’s a lot I don’t know, but I’m learning slowly.”
“Luan Nian says you’re the fastest learner. When has he ever praised anyone? So I think you’ll have no problem.” Xiao Mei, who valued learning, commented.
“He praised me?”
“Yes, when you weren’t around.”
The three girls were each beautiful in their own way, drawing attention as they stood in the bubble tea shop. Each ordered a hot bubble tea, sipping and chatting as they strolled around the restaurant.
They talked about artifact restoration, philanthropic projects, online advertising—whatever came to mind. There was no shortage of conversation, and soon they felt like they had known each other for years.
It was exhilarating.
When Shang Zhitao returned to Luan Nian’s place and went for a walk with him and Luke, she couldn’t stop chattering: “Why is Lin Chun’er so adorable? She and Song Qiuhan are such a perfect match.”
“Xiao Mei is so knowledgeable. I’ve seen her talk about artifacts before, but in person, she’s even more erudite.”
“Song Qiuhan and Chen Kuannian were high school classmates! They’re nothing alike.”
As they walked Luke, Luan Nian listened to her ramble on, occasionally glancing at her. He could see she was genuinely happy. So he asked her: “Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes!”
“If you did, I won’t bring you next time.” Luan Nian smirked teasingly. “Go shopping.”
“Cheapskate.” Shang Zhitao called him a cheapskate and then told Luke: “Your dad’s a cheapskate.”
Luke barked: “My dad isn’t!” staunchly defending his father’s honor.
“Shang Zhitao.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ll bring you next time.”
“Okay.”
Shang Zhitao thought for a moment: “What if, the next time you come to Ice City, I take you to one of our local gatherings? It might just be a group of people sitting together, happily drinking and chatting about random things.”
“Will He Yun be there?” Luan Nian remembered He Yun’s name; he had called her back when they were together.
“Yes.”
“Then it’s settled.”
On the surface, their relationship seemed great—they had opened up their social circles and invited each other in. Luan Nian visited her in Ice City every weekend, and when they met, they would passionately make love and fall asleep in each other’s arms.
They looked like an ordinary couple.
But Luan Nian always felt that Shang Zhitao’s heart hadn’t been truly ignited. As she thought, the tension between them still existed—it was just more elastic, less likely to snap than before.
On the last weekend before the New Year, Shang Zhitao had to rush to the office for something urgent. Luan Nian sat in her living room, staring at the wall of books. He knew that the distance between them hadn’t disappeared, even though they had started over.
He sat there until evening, unable to bear the sense of distance any longer. He got up and headed straight to the airport. Once there, he messaged Shang Zhitao: “I have something to take care of in Beijing.”
“Okay.”
Shang Zhitao replied without asking what the matter was or when he’d return.
At the office, she worked late with her employees on a major account. When she finally left the meeting room, it was already midnight. She messaged Luan Nian: “Are you there yet?”
“Yes.”
“Won’t I see you again until after the New Year?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Sleep early. Good night.”
“Good night.”
When Shang Zhitao got home, she saw the lamb spine stew Luan Nian had prepared. He had said it was cold, so they should eat something warm that night. She reheated it, served herself a piece, and couldn’t resist sending him a message: “This lamb spine stew is delicious.”
“Aren’t you sleeping?”
“I just got home and I’m a little hungry.” She sent him a selfie wearing black-rimmed glasses.
“So ugly.”
“Hehe.”
After eating the lamb spine stew and taking a shower, Shang Zhitao returned and thought that such delicious food really deserved a proper hot pot. Remembering the lamb spine stew paired with a hot pot, she called her father the next morning to say she wouldn’t be coming home, then set up an electric hot pot. The fridge was fully stocked, and all the ingredients Luan Nian had washed and prepared for the previous day were neatly arranged: winter melon, white radish, bamboo shoots, fresh tofu skin, and Chinese cabbage—all her favorites.
Eating alone suddenly made her feel a bit bored. She messaged Luan Nian: “You prepared so much food—I can’t finish it all by myself.”
“Eat slowly.”
“I’m craving fish from that fish restaurant. Is it still open?”
“Yes.”
“Then, the next time I go to Beijing, will you take me there?”
“Yes.”
Luan Nian’s responses were brief. Though he had always disliked small talk, his replies had been warmer since their reunion.
Luan Nian hadn’t returned to Beijing for any particular reason. That day, he drove to the bar in the mountains. The car he liked—after driving Shang Zhitao and Luke back to Ice City—was left with her to use. She had sold her previous car, and with her busy work schedule and numerous personal errands, not having a car was inconvenient. When she hesitated to accept it, he simply left the keys behind and walked away.
Luan Nian couldn’t quite explain what was wrong with him—he just felt down. Someone with a camera was taking pictures of the large mural on the left wall of the bar. Upon seeing Luan Nian enter, they put the camera down and smiled at him.
It was Zang Yao, whom he hadn’t seen in years.
She had cut her hair short, looking sharp and capable, though fine lines had begun to appear at the corners of her eyes. Setting the camera aside, she extended her arms toward Luan Nian: “No hug for an old friend?”
Luan Nian stepped forward and shook her hand politely. Though outwardly calm, he felt a stir within: “When did you return to China?”
Before Zang Yao could answer, a child’s voice called out, “Mommy!” A little boy ran over. He was biracial, with striking blue eyes.
“Say hello to Uncle Luan, Xiao Mai.”
“Hello, Uncle.”
Zang Yao knelt to kiss Xiao Mai before standing up again: “I came back in October. I quarantined in Guangzhou first, then stayed home for half a month after arriving in Beijing. I met some friends, and now it’s almost the end of the year.”
“How did you find this place?”
“Tan Mian told me.”
“What would you like to drink?”
“Warm water. I’ve quit drinking.”
Luan Nian glanced at Xiao Mai, his expression softening: “What does Xiao Mai want to drink?”
“Yogurt.”
Zang Yao sat at the bar while the server took Xiao Mai to play. She looked at Luan Nian several times before finally smiling and asking, “Are you unhappy?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Very.”
Luan Nian raised an eyebrow and pushed the warm water toward her: “Tell me about your past few years.”
“Well…” Zang Yao thought for a moment: “I got married, had a child, got divorced, and then remarried. That’s it.”
“A busy few years. Did you come back to China alone with your child?”
“Yes. I’ll stay until next October before returning. Xiao Mai often asks me what China is like. I tell him it’s beautiful, but he doesn’t believe me. So I found a way to come back.”
“Isn’t it exhausting?”
“I’ve always loved complications, and besides, I have so many friends here, as well as my ex-boyfriends.” Zang Yao laughed: “What about you? It’s rare to see you so open. That photo hanging there is really eye-catching.”
“It’s good,” Luan Nian replied.
They fell silent. Zang Yao turned to look at the photo again, then back at Luan Nian. She had once wondered what Luan Nian would be like when he truly loved someone. Would he become passionate? Careful? Would his sharp edges soften?
He still seemed calm, direct, and sharp—but something had changed. Luan Nian could change after all.
When Shang Zhitao called, the sluggish winter sunset had already bathed the bar in light. Zang Yao was nearby taking photos with Xiao Mai, while Luan Nian stood by the window flipping through a book.
“What are you doing?” Shang Zhitao asked.
“Talking to a friend.”
If it were someone Shang Zhitao knew, Luan Nian would have mentioned their name, but he didn’t.
“Which friend? Have I met them?” Shang Zhitao wasn’t prying; she simply wanted to understand him better.
“You haven’t. It’s Zang Yao.”
To Luan Nian, Zang Yao was a cherished old friend. To Shang Zhitao, Zang Yao was someone special in Luan Nian’s heart.
When Shang Zhitao fell silent, Luan Nian asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I know who Zang Yao is. She rented a house near Houhai, which belongs to Lumi. Lumi saw you delivering flowers to her.”
“And?” Luan Nian asked. “What are you trying to say?”
Luan Nian hoped Shang Zhitao would say something passionate, like she used to—declaring her love with unwavering courage over the phone, bringing him hot buns because he liked them, or leaving in the middle of the night only to return. If she questioned him now about why he had sent flowers to Zang Yao, he would have been delighted and explained: “She just called and asked me to help bring her a bouquet.”
If you like flowers, I’ll give you a garden.
No lies—I’ve rented a small plot of land in the mountains to grow flowers for you.
This was perhaps the most romantic thing Luan Nian had ever done.
Something so simple.
Everyone could be intense, angry, unfiltered—all because deep love stirred strong emotions.
“I’m not saying anything. You two chat. Call me when you get home.” Shang Zhitao ended the call.
Luan Nian felt a pang of disappointment.
When he got home, he didn’t call Shang Zhitao. After a shower, he leaned against the headboard with a book, but the words wouldn’t register. His throat felt sore. The mountain winds had been harsh, and he had caught a rare cold.
Dr. Liang called to discuss New Year’s plans: “Do you want to spend the New Year in Ice City? If you do, I’ll arrange a gathering with a few close friends. If you go to Ice City, it’s best to leave the day after tomorrow. You’ll need to prepare gifts—you can’t arrive empty-handed.”
“I’m not going.”
“? Didn’t you want to go just a few days ago?”
“I’m feeling a bit unwell. I won’t go.”
“Oh. Then let’s seriously discuss how we’ll celebrate. Will you come here, or should we go to your place?” Dr. Liang asked.
“Either is fine.”
“What’s wrong with you! How can you be so indifferent at your age?” Dr. Liang teased. “Choose now.”
“To your place.”
“Alright. Come over the day after tomorrow, and we’ll go shopping for food together.”
“Okay.”
After hanging up, Luan Nian realized he might have a fever. A quick temperature check confirmed it. He went to the hospital for a nucleic acid test, then returned home to take some fever-reducing and anti-inflammatory medication before falling asleep.
Shang Zhitao waited for his message late into the night. Finally, she texted, “Not home yet?” but quickly recalled the message, making it seem like she was checking up on him—though that wasn’t her intention.
“I’m home. I just went for a nucleic acid test.”
“Why?”
“I have a fever.”
“Oh. Did you take medicine?”
“Yes.”
After ending the call, Shang Zhitao suddenly felt an overwhelming longing for Luan Nian. She hadn’t felt such intense emotions in a long time. The urge to see him, to be with him, was overwhelming.
She glanced at Luke beside her and asked, “Should I take you to Beijing for the New Year?”
Luke paused, then leapt up excitedly: “Woof! Yes! Let’s go now!”
“Alright. Shall we leave early tomorrow morning?”
“Woof! Yes!”
The next morning, Shang Zhitao stopped by her parents’ house first. Every year since childhood, she had spent the New Year with her father and stepmother. This was the first time she decided to travel far to see someone.
“He’s sick. I want to see him.”
“Go ahead!” Her stepmother was kneading dough. “Drive safely. Your dad and I will visit your grandmother’s house for the New Year—you don’t need to worry about us being lonely. He’s come to see you so many times; not reciprocating isn’t right.”
Her parents were understanding. They had seen Luan Nian make the trip week after week. Over time, they grew to appreciate him as a good person.
“Then I’ll go?”
“Go.”
Shang Zhitao drove Luan Nian’s car, with Luke in tow, heading to Beijing.
She didn’t tell Luan Nian she was coming. Just one woman and one dog, setting off toward the man she loved.
Thinking back to her fearless self in her twenties, Shang Zhitao had believed she would never feel that way again. Yet, in a moment of loneliness the previous night, she had been filled with passion once more.
She drove continuously from 8 a.m. to midnight, a full sixteen hours. Every hour and a half, she rested for fifteen minutes, pushing through the journey. After 6 p.m., her back began to ache, but she adjusted by shortening her driving intervals and extending her breaks.
Luke was incredibly well-behaved. He sat quietly in the passenger seat, watching the scenery outside and occasionally barking to keep Shang Zhitao awake.
On this journey—from the snowy landscapes beyond the pass to the winds of the plains, from small unknown towns to the bustling city of Beijing—she experienced for the first time just how hard it could be to see someone. Doing it once was difficult enough; how much harder must it have been for Luan Nian to make these trips regularly? But he never complained, never spoke of his hardships. Though he still teased and criticized her, he never said, “Shang Zhitao, I endure so much to see you.”
In her car, songs like Thinking of You Day and Night and This Is the Bravest Moment of My Life played. When she heard the line, “You, at the edge of the world, stand before me,” tears poured down her face.
Shang Zhitao was elated—so, so happy.
She felt like she had returned to her twenty-two-year-old self.
Back to the age when she gave everything for love, back to when she still believed in love.
As she entered Beijing, she called Luan Nian: “I’m here to see you.”
Alone, 1,400 kilometers, from Ice City to Beijing.
Here to see you.
Google Sites
Report abuse