STT – Chapter 19
by Little PandaWill Jiang Huaixi Let Her Lose?
That evening, after taking a shower, Lu Zizheng sat in her study chair. She turned on her computer and tuned into a music radio station she often listened to. Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift, softly humming along with the melody.
After a brief, soothing introduction from the host, Mavis Fan’s 《Snowman》1 began to play: “…I wait, wait so foolishly. Snow, flake by flake, piecing together our fate. My love was born because of you, your hand touched and felt my pain… Snow, flake by flake, quietly drifting across the sky. Spring is about to arrive, and I, too, will no longer survive…”
Lu Zizheng opened her eyes. Leaning against the back of her chair, she gazed at the round moon outside her window, listening quietly. The singing was both warm and sorrowful…
She pulled her chair closer to the desk. The swivel chair slid slowly across the floor, making a dull sound that was quickly swallowed by the beautiful melody.
Lu Zizheng pulled open her desk drawer and took out the photo Jiang Huaixi had given her. The snowman in it was still smiling.
“…Snow, flake by flake, quietly drifting across the sky. Spring is about to arrive, and I, too, will no longer survive…”
Spring would arrive eventually, and the snowman would melt in the end. To wait was nothing more than a futile endeavor…
Yet, Jiang Huaixi had told her: “Here, flowers watered with joy will never wither…”
Through countless disappointments, she had long since learned the underlying malice behind the word “forever.” And yet, hearing such words from Jiang Huaixi, who rarely spoke kindly, still made her heart stir.
It was just like the full moon she saw right now. Most of the time, the moon was merely a crescent, curved like a bow. But one could not deny the existence of a full moon simply because they were accustomed to seeing crescents. It was a matter of probability and luck.
Lu Zizheng pondered in her heart. Perhaps Jiang Huaixi was that very full moon. Perhaps she could be that rare, lucky exception—a beautiful, low-probability event.
Over the years, there had always been moments when Jiang Huaixi made Lu Zizheng’s heart stir restlessly. Unfortunately, she had never possessed the courage to try…
The more emotions were suppressed and endured, the more they clamored to burst forth. Today, after knowing Jiang Huaixi for so many years, her sentimentality was finally beginning to override her rationality, gaining the upper hand…
What if she tried one more time? What if she found the courage to believe again—to believe that Jiang Huaixi was different from everyone else? What if, just what if she had the courage to stake everything she had, betting that Jiang Huaixi was her one-in-a-ten-thousand stroke of luck?
Would Jiang Huaixi let her lose?
Gazing at the full moon outside the window, a faint smile played on Lu Zizheng’s lips. She flipped the photo over, pulled a marker from the pen holder on her desk, and slowly, carefully wrote on the back: May we live long, sharing the beauty of the moon even from a thousand miles away2.
Just as she finished writing the last character and was about to write the final, perfect period—just as the tip of her pen touched the paper—the phone on her desk began to vibrate violently.
Lu Zizheng paused. Glancing at the screen out of the corner of her eye, the smile on her lips gradually faded away…
Flashing brightly on the phone screen under the caller ID were two bold characters: Lian Xuan.
Holding the pen, she stared at the name “Lian Xuan” for a long time without reacting. She kept hoping that in the next second, the phone would stop vibrating, these two characters would vanish, the screen would go dark, and everything would return to how it was. But the phone vibrated relentlessly, refusing to stop.
In the end, she set her pen down and answered the call in resignation.
Lian Xuan’s voice carried an irrepressible joy. “Zizheng, you finally answered my call…”
Lu Zizheng’s voice, however, was filled with a distant politeness. “President Lian, it’s so late. Is there something you need?”
“Zizheng, must there be a reason for me to call you?” Her voice held a dejection that Lu Zizheng could easily detect.
Lu Zizheng remained unmoved. “President Lian?”
Lian Xuan let out a bitter laugh, her voice tight. “I want to see you, Zizheng. I’m right outside your residential complex. Won’t you come down and see me, just for a moment?”
Lu Zizheng couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. She could no longer see through Lian Xuan’s games. After crying and hurting, she had finally come to understand Lian Xuan’s cruelty and heartlessness back then. But what did her current gestures of goodwill and persistent pursuit mean? Lu Zizheng was utterly baffled.
Was it guilt over hurting someone all those years ago? No. Even now, Lian Xuan behaved as if they were merely ordinary classmates who had never had any unpleasantness between them.
Was it a hint to someone who had once loved her, now that years had passed? Ridiculous. The young man standing beside her just yesterday, sharing the holiday with her, was certainly not a mere decoration.
No matter what Lian Xuan was planning, Lu Zizheng had neither the energy nor the interest to decipher it. Just as she was about to refuse in a cold tone, Lian Xuan seemed to sense it. Her voice softened into a plea: “Zizheng, please don’t reject me. Today is my birthday. Just consider it… fulfilling a wish for me, alright?”
Lu Zizheng had never heard Lian Xuan speak in such a humble, pleading tone. December 26th—the moment the clock struck midnight, she had remembered it, but it was nothing more than a memory now.
“Zizheng, please see me.” Tonight, Lian Xuan seemed exceptionally fragile, her voice carrying a faint hint of tears.
Lu Zizheng couldn’t bring herself to be entirely heartless. Biting her lip, she softly murmured her assent, agreeing to meet.
It wasn’t snowing tonight, but the wind blew much harder than the previous night. Lu Zizheng walked slowly toward the gate of her residential complex. From a distance, she could see Lian Xuan standing by her car. Lian Xuan watched her approach step by step, and the cool expression on her face instantly dissolved into a sweet smile.
She was wearing nothing but a red, off-the-shoulder evening gown. Her long hair fluttered gently in the wind, and her body was shivering violently.
As she drew closer, Lu Zizheng saw that Lian Xuan’s eyes were as bright as stars, though her lips had already turned pale from the cold. “Zizheng, you came after all.”
Lu Zizheng replied flatly, “Get in the car first.” Even wearing a sweater, a shirt, and a wool overcoat, she still felt the biting cold of the wind. She couldn’t fathom how Lian Xuan had managed to stand out here in such a thin, off-the-shoulder evening gown.
Lian Xuan’s smile grew even brighter. She quickly hurried to the passenger side to open the door for Lu Zizheng, waiting until she was safely inside before shutting it. Then, she hurried back around and got into the driver’s seat.
Once inside, Lian Xuan rubbed her hands together. Turning to look at Lu Zizheng with a smile, she said, “It’s so cold. If you’d come down any later, I might’ve frozen to death out there.”
Without looking at her, Lu Zizheng replied indifferently, “You could have waited in the car.”
Lian Xuan’s eyes curved with joy, revealing the lovely dimples on her cheeks. “I couldn’t wait. I wanted to see you the very second you appeared.”
Lu Zizheng met this with silence, but Lian Xuan didn’t seem to mind. She started the car and changed the subject, asking, “Did you like the flowers I sent you on Christmas Eve?”
Lu Zizheng was slightly surprised. Back then, she hadn’t considered the possibility that the flowers were from Lian Xuan at all.
Looking at the street scenery rushing past the window, she said coolly, “You shouldn’t have gone to such expense, President Lian.”
Lian Xuan frowned, unhappily correcting her, “Zizheng, we’re no longer in a boss-subordinate working relationship. Can you call me by my name?”
Lu Zizheng merely offered a faint smile, turning her head to look directly at Lian Xuan. “I’m afraid our relationship hasn’t reached the point where I can address you so familiarly.”
Hearing this, Lian Xuan’s body trembled. She bit her lip, glanced at Lu Zizheng, and fell silent.
They drove in silence after that. Lu Zizheng didn’t ask where they were going, and Lian Xuan didn’t volunteer the information. Lu Zizheng kept her face turned toward the window, quietly watching the scenery shift from the bustling, brightly lit city streets to a straight, open highway with sparse traffic. Soon, they were speeding onto the expressway…
Lu Zizheng simply closed her eyes, waiting for Lian Xuan to finally park.
After the car had driven tirelessly for who knew how long, Lian Xuan finally stopped. She rolled down her window to show some sort of identification to a security guard, then drove inside at a leisurely pace.
Lu Zizheng opened her eyes. The scenery outside the window felt strangely familiar, though she couldn’t immediately recall where she’d seen it.
Lian Xuan spoke again at last. “Zizheng, do you remember this place?”
Parking the car, she smiled and gestured for Lu Zizheng to step out. Gazing at the wide, open grassland ahead, her eyes were filled with nostalgia.
Lu Zizheng looked around. Upon seeing the sign for Tianxin Gardening, she finally recognized the location. Lian Xuan had actually taken her onto the expressway, driving for at least three hours to this city nestled right between Linzhou and Juzhou City. They had visited Tianxin Gardening during a high school field trip. This was entirely beyond Lu Zizheng’s expectations.
She stared at Lian Xuan in disbelief. Lian Xuan merely smiled back serenely, then began walking up the grassy slope, her slender high heels wobbling slightly as her thin evening gown swayed. Her body shivered with every step.
Lu Zizheng stood frozen, watching her retreating figure as a torrent of thoughts swirled through her mind.
Lian Xuan turned around, her smile sweet and bright. “Zizheng, come up…”
Lian Xuan’s slender, graceful figure atop the hill slowly merged with the image in Lu Zizheng’s memories. That year, Lian Xuan had stood in that exact spot, calling out to her in that same soft, gentle tone: “Zizheng, come up…”
Unconsciously obeying the call, Lu Zizheng kept her eyes on her, walking upward step by step.
Teetering on her high heels, Lian Xuan reached the crest of the hill. She smoothed the hem of her gown and sat right down on the ground. Looking up at the night sky like a joyful child, she pointed upward and turned to smile at Lu Zizheng. “Zizheng, look. Those two stars are still there.”
Lu Zizheng looked up in the direction she was pointing. With the moon full tonight, there were only a few faint stars scattered across the sky, but far from the moon, two stars shone exceptionally bright. They looked so much like the two stars she and Lian Xuan had lain here to look at all those years ago. The distance between them was still just as close, as if they had remained by each other’s side through all these years, never drifting apart.
Lu Zizheng sat down beside Lian Xuan, noticing the lingering smile on her face. As the wind blew, a few stray locks of hair fell across Lian Xuan’s bright eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering from the cold. Lu Zizheng took off her wool overcoat and draped it over Lian Xuan’s trembling shoulders, unable to suppress a shiver of her own.
Lian Xuan clutched the overcoat tightly. Her eyes remained fixed on Lu Zizheng, her gaze shimmering as if she had a thousand things to say.
Lu Zizheng only glanced at her before turning her eyes back to the night sky. Her voice was cold and clear, sounding exceptionally lonely in the night. “They’re not the same. Through my eyes, they’ve already traveled far, far away, separated by a vast distance.” She lowered her head, staring into the dark, boundless night. “They look as though they’re still in the same positions, but the distance between them is no longer the same.”
The light in Lian Xuan’s eyes slowly dimmed as she gazed at Lu Zizheng. She held the overcoat closer, yet she felt colder than before. Shifting closer, she opened the coat, draping one side over Lu Zizheng’s shoulder while keeping her own arm wrapped in the other, and gently rested her head on Lu Zizheng’s shoulder. “Zizheng, let me tell you a story, alright?”
Lu Zizheng didn’t push her head away, letting her whisper against her shoulder. Her gaze fell upon the withered, yellow grass beneath their feet, her thoughts drifting far…
Beautiful flowers do not bloom forever, and lovely scenery does not last. Though the grass that withered this winter would turn green again next spring, it would no longer be the same vibrant green as before. The scenery here remained beautiful, and Lian Xuan beside her was as lovely as ever, yet some things had simply changed.
Listen. Her heartbeat right now was so steady and regular.
Lu Zizheng wondered earnestly: Has Jiang Huaixi’s fever subsided?
Footnotes
- 'Snowman' (Xuěrén) is a classic 1996 Mandopop ballad sung by Taiwanese artist Mavis Fan (Fan Xiaoxuan), known for its melancholic winter themes and poetic lyrics about love and fleeting existence.
- A modern variation of a famous line from 'Shuǐdiào Gētóu' (Prelude to Water Melody), a classical song lyric by Song Dynasty poet Su Shi (1037–1101). It expresses a deep wish for loved ones to remain safe and emotionally connected despite physical distance.
LX istg if you don’t stop disturbing LZ after whatever your story is
LX whatever your name is, it’s time to move on. Stop being so greedy. Omg.
LX whatever your name is, it’s time to move on. Stop being so greedy. Omg.