Chapter 110: Sunshine
Ever since returning from Iceland, Wen Yan had developed a fondness for spending time on the balcony.
Whenever the wind chimes tinkled in the breeze, he would find himself reminiscing about the mist rising from the Blue Lagoon, the shimmering green silk ribbons of the Aurora Borealis unfurling across the night sky, and most vividly, the feeling of Pei Zhouye gripping his hand in the snow—the heat of his palm burning like a ball of fire.
“What are you daydreaming about?” Pei Zhouye approached, carrying two mugs of hot cocoa. He pressed one into Wen Yan’s hands. “The wind is so strong; why aren’t you wearing a coat?”
Wen Yan took the mug, his fingertips grazing the warm ceramic. He looked up at him. “I was thinking that the snow in Iceland feels softer than the snow in Switzerland.”
“Getting sentimental in your old age?” Pei Zhouye laughed, ruffling Wen Yan’s hair before leaning casually against the railing. “Then again, we really should make as many memories as we can.” He suddenly turned his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about a trip to Shencheng next weekend? I looked it up and found they’re having an ice sculpture exhibition. Supposedly, they’ve carved out an entire castle.”
Wen Yan’s eyes lit up. “Really?” He had loved ice sculptures since he was a child, but they were a rare sight in the south. Last time in Switzerland, he had been so mesmerized by the snow carvings that he couldn’t move his feet; he couldn’t even imagine an entire ice castle.
“Why would I lie to you?” Pei Zhouye tapped the tip of Wen Yan’s nose. “The flights and hotel are already booked. I was just waiting for you to say yes.”
They took a flight on Friday night. As they touched down in Shencheng, fine snow was drifting past the cabin window. Wen Yan bundled himself tight in his down jacket and followed Pei Zhouye out of the airport. The biting, frigid air hit him instantly, carrying the crisp clarity unique to the north. “It’s even colder here than in Iceland.” He sniffled, let out a soft cough after the wind caught his throat.
Pei Zhouye immediately pulled Wen Yan’s scarf up to cover half of his face. “Be patient. You’ll feel better once we get to the hotel.”
Their hotel was located in the Old City district. Pushing open the window, one could see the accumulated snow atop the gray roof tiles. In the distance, the Bell and Drum Towers radiated an ancient charm through the twilight. Wen Yan leaned against the windowsill for a while before turning around to see Pei Zhouye rummaging through his suitcase—hand warmers, wool socks, anti-frostbite cream, and even a small jar of ginger tea.
“Did you move our entire house here?” Wen Yan teased, though his heart felt incredibly warm.
“What if you catch a cold?” Pei Zhouye plugged in a hand warmer to charge and then stuffed it into Wen Yan’s arms. “We’ll be at the exhibition tomorrow, likely spending the whole afternoon outside. How can I not be thorough?”
Early the next morning, the two walked across a light dusting of snow to the Ice Sculpture Park. The moment they stepped through the gate, Wen Yan was stunned by the sight. Various ice sculptures shimmered with crystalline transparency under the colorful lights. The twelve zodiac animals looked lifelike, and a sprawling complex of pavilions and towers with traditional bracketed eaves stretched across the grounds. At the furthest end stood the ice castle, its spires piercing straight into the grayish-blue sky.
“Come on, I’ll take you inside the castle.” Pei Zhouye led him by the hand. The icy surface was a bit slippery, so he deliberately slowed his pace, glancing back frequently to ensure Wen Yan was keeping up.
The interior of the ice castle was like a different world altogether. Vine patterns were carved along the corridors, and the corners featured tables and chairs made entirely of ice. Wen Yan sat on an ice chair; the frigid sensation seeped through his trousers, yet he was reluctant to get up. “It’s like a scene from a fairy tale.”
“Then you’re the prince of the fairy tale.” Pei Zhouye knelt before him, using a finger to trace a small heart on the ice table. “And I am the knight guarding the prince.”
Wen Yan laughed at his antics and reached out to cover Pei Zhouye’s mouth, only to have his wrist caught and his body pulled into an embrace. Tumbling into Pei Zhouye’s arms, he caught the faint scent of cedarwood mixed with the cold air—crisp and grounding. “Stop it, people are watching.” He pushed him away with a flush, though the corners of his eyes curved like crescent moons.
After leaving the castle, they went to play on the ice slides. Pei Zhouye sat down first to give it a try, waving from the bottom. “Come on! It’s not scary.” Wen Yan bit his lip and sat down. The moment he let go, the wind roared past his ears. The sensation of weightlessness made him scream, but he landed steadily in a warm embrace.
“Are you okay?” Pei Zhouye patted his back, his voice full of laughter. “Your face went completely pale from fright.”
“It did not.” Wen Yan buried his face in his chest, his voice muffled. “It was just a bit sudden.”
By the time evening rolled around, the tip of Wen Yan’s nose was frozen red. Pei Zhouye pulled him along to eat copper pot mutton. Inside the old restaurant, steam swirled in the air. The clear broth in the copper pot bubbled away, and the thinly sliced rolls of mutton cooked in seconds. Dipped in sesame paste, the meal warmed Wen Yan from his stomach to his soul.
“Eat slowly, no one is snatching it.” Pei Zhouye placed a piece of frozen tofu in his bowl. “Shencheng’s hot pot is different from the south; they emphasize fresh cuts. Try this lamb shangnao.”
Wen Yan chewed the meat, watching the snow fall heavier and heavier outside. He suddenly said, “Let’s come to Shencheng every winter. To see the ice sculptures and eat hot pot.”
“Alright.” Pei Zhouye raised his glass with a smile. “But we’ll have to change hotels next year. The heating in this one isn’t strong enough.”
On the way back, the snow fell as thick as scattered salt. Pei Zhouye tucked Wen Yan’s hand into his own pocket, and the two walked slowly through the snow, their footprints forming a continuous chain under the streetlights. Passing a sugar painting stall, Wen Yan suddenly stopped. The stall owner was using melted syrup to draw a dragon. The golden silk of sugar meandered across the green stone slab, quickly hardening into a translucent silhouette.
“You want one?” Pei Zhouye saw through him, pulled out some money, and handed it to the owner. “Give me a rabbit.”
Wen Yan gripped the sugar rabbit, licking it bit by bit. The sugar dissolved on the tip of his tongue, so sweet he squinted his eyes. “It’s sweeter than Swiss chocolate.”
“Of course it is,” Pei Zhouye leaned down to take a bite of the sugar in his hand. “Because I bought it.”
Wen Yan laughed and pushed him, only to be caught by the wrist and pulled close again. Snowflakes fell between their hair. He looked at Pei Zhouye’s reddened nose and suddenly stood on his tiptoes to press a kiss against it. As the sweetness of the sugar mixed with the crispness of the snow between their lips, he heard Pei Zhouye’s low chuckle. “A sneak attack?”
“Mhm.” He huddled deeper into his embrace. “Your punishment is to buy me an even bigger sugar rabbit next year.”
After returning from Shencheng, life reverted to its usual rhythm. However, a new glass jar appeared on Wen Yan’s desk containing Shencheng snow—he said he wanted to keep it as a memento. Pei Zhouye couldn’t win the argument, so he found an airtight jar to carefully store it.
In early March, Zhang-jiaoshou suddenly called, inviting them over for dinner. “My grandson’s full-month party is coming up; you two must come for a celebratory drink.” Zhang-jiaoshou’s voice was full of joy. “Don’t bring gifts, just yourselves.”
Wen Yan and Pei Zhouye took a basket of fruit to Zhang-jiaoshou’s house. The living room was packed with people, and the sound of a crying infant mixed with laughter, making it as lively as the Lunar New Year. Zhang-jiaoshou held the little fellow swaddled in blankets, his eyes crinkling with joy. “Come, take a look. Doesn’t this boy look just like me?”
Wen Yan leaned in to see. The baby’s eyes were closed, his little face was flushed pink, and his eyelashes were long and dense. “He does, especially the nose,” he whispered.
Pei Zhouye laughed from the side. “Zhang-jiaoshou, you better keep a close eye on him. Don’t let him end up like Wen Yan, soaking in the lab all day.”
“That won’t do,” Zhang-jiaoshou patted Wen Yan’s shoulder. “I’m hoping he learns from Wen Yan and becomes a useful person.”
During the meal, Zhang-jiaoshou’s wife served Wen Yan a piece of braised fish. “Eat more to nourish your body. You two shouldn’t always be so busy with work; you have to enjoy life when you can.”
Wen Yan nodded with a smile, though his heart felt a bit bitter. He knew the elders meant well, but some things simply couldn’t be said. Pei Zhouye seemed to read his mind and secretly squeezed his hand under the table—it was their secret signal, meaning “I’m here.”
After the banquet ended, the two helped tidy up the dishes. Wen Yan washed the dishes in the kitchen while Pei Zhouye stood beside him drying the plates. The rushing water provided a background track to the heartwarming scene. “Were you unhappy just now?” Pei Zhouye suddenly asked.
Wen Yan shook his head. “No, I just felt… it was very lively.”
“We’ll have more lively times ourselves.” Pei Zhouye placed a dried plate into the disinfection cabinet. “When the weather gets warmer, we’ll invite Shen Yao and the others over for dinner. We’ll have him make his signature Coca-Cola chicken wings.”
At the mention of Shen Yao, Wen Yan couldn’t help but laugh. Shen Yao was Pei Zhouye’s childhood friend who owned a Western restaurant, yet his skills with home-cooked dishes were surprisingly excellent, especially the chicken wings, which were perfectly sweet. “Last time, he even said he wanted to learn how to make tomato beef brisket from you.”
“With his cooking skills, he should forget about it.” Pei Zhouye shook his head with a laugh. “I don’t want him blowing up my kitchen.”
In early April, the weather gradually warmed. Pei Zhouye suddenly announced he was taking Wen Yan somewhere. The car drove out of the city center toward the mountains in the suburbs. The cherry blossoms along the road were in full bloom, their pink-and-white petals drifting onto the car window like a gentle snowfall.
“Where exactly are we going?” Wen Yan’s curiosity was piqued by his mysterious behavior.
“You’ll know when we get there.” Pei Zhouye freed one hand to ruffle his hair.
The car stopped halfway up the mountain in front of a small wooden cabin. The roof was covered in gray tiles, and several magnolias were blooming brilliantly in front of the door. “This is…” Wen Yan looked at the cabin in surprise. Thinking back to the old castle in Switzerland, a thought suddenly occurred to him.
“I bought it last year.” Pei Zhouye took his hand and led him inside. “I thought once the weather turned warm, we could stay here for a few days to get away from the city’s bustle.”
The interior of the cabin was arranged very cozily. A checkered blanket was draped over the living room sofa, the bookshelves were lined with Wen Yan’s favorite books, and there was even a small swing on the balcony. Wen Yan walked to the window and pushed it open to see the valley in the distance—a sea of fresh green with a breeze carrying the fragrance of grass and wood.
“Do you like it?” Pei Zhouye hugged him from behind.
“I do.” Wen Yan turned around and hugged his waist, burying his face in his chest. “How do you always find such wonderful places?”
“Because I want to be in wonderful places with you.” Pei Zhouye leaned down to kiss the crown of his head. “Let’s come every weekend, okay? I’ll take you hiking, foraging for wild greens, and stargazing.”
Wen Yan nodded vigorously, his eyes growing a bit hot. He remembered when he first met Pei Zhouye; he had always thought the man was like an iceberg—cold, hard, and distant. But after being together for so long, he realized his tenderness was hidden in the details, like the warm light of this cabin—not dazzling, yet enough to toast one’s heart until it turned soft.
That afternoon, the two strolled through the valley. Pei Zhouye held a camera and took many photos—magnolia petals falling on Wen Yan’s shoulder, Wen Yan squatting by the stream to play with the water, and even the way he jumped when startled by a butterfly.
“Stop taking pictures.” Wen Yan flushed and tried to snatch the camera. “You’re making me look so silly.”
“Not silly. You’re beautiful.” Pei Zhouye held the camera high out of reach. “When we’re old, we’ll develop these photos and cover the entire house with them.”
Watching his serious expression, Wen Yan suddenly felt that growing old might not be so terrifying after all. As long as he had this person by his side, even if his hair turned white and he couldn’t walk much anymore, it would still be a form of happiness.
In the evening, they had a barbecue on the open ground in front of the cabin. Pei Zhouye was in charge of grilling while Wen Yan handed him the seasonings. Whenever oil sparked up, the two would laugh and dodge. The aroma of meat mixed with the fragrance of flowers in the evening breeze was incredibly enticing.
“Taste this.” Pei Zhouye handed him a grilled chicken wing, his eyes full of expectation.
Wen Yan took a bite. It was charred on the outside, tender on the inside, and perfectly sweet and savory. “It’s even better than the ones Shen Yao makes!”
“Of course.” Pei Zhouye tilted his chin up proudly. “Look at who made them.”
After eating, the two lay on the swing to look at the stars. The night sky in the valley was exceptionally clear, and the Milky Way stretched across the heavens like a silver river. Wen Yan leaned into Pei Zhouye’s arms, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. Occasionally, fireflies would drift past, their lights flickering like fallen stars.
“Pei Zhouye,” Wen Yan suddenly spoke, his voice very soft. “Do you think people turn into stars after they die?”
“I don’t know.” Pei Zhouye squeezed his hand, his fingertips tracing the ring on his finger. “But no matter what you become, I’ll definitely find you.”
Wen Yan didn’t speak; he just huddled closer. He thought of Lin Seran, and of those unpleasant memories from the past, and suddenly felt they were no longer important. Life is so short, and the person to cherish is right here; there is no time to think about anything else.
“I’ll take you to see the waterfall tomorrow,” Pei Zhouye said suddenly. “It’s just behind the mountain. I heard the flow is quite powerful.”
“Alright.” Wen Yan nodded with a smile. “But we have to get up early. I want to watch the sunrise by the waterfall.”
“No problem.” Pei Zhouye leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Anything you want.”
Early the next morning, they headed toward the back of the mountain. The path was a bit steep, so Pei Zhouye kept a firm grip on Wen Yan’s hand, looking back at him every few steps. As they neared the waterfall, the sound of rushing water grew audible. Rounding a bend, the waterfall suddenly appeared before them—water cascaded down from a cliff tens of meters high, crashing into a pool and kicking up a white mist. Sunlight filtered through the mist, creating a small rainbow.
“It’s so beautiful.” Wen Yan was mesmerized. He thought of the Gullfoss waterfall he had seen in Iceland, yet this place felt more intimate because Pei Zhouye was by his side.
“If you like it, look a while longer.” Pei Zhouye pulled the camera from his backpack. “I’ll take a few photos of you.”
Wen Yan stood before the waterfall and made a peace sign with a smile. The mist dampened his hair, making it stick to his temples as if he had just washed it. Watching the person through the viewfinder, Pei Zhouye suddenly felt that the so-called “peaceful years” were probably just this—having the person you love, beautiful scenery, and an endless stretch of stable days.
After returning from the cabin, Wen Yan was always running to the balcony. He had planted several pots of mint there; they were lush and green, swaying whenever the wind blew.
Pei Zhouye said he was like a cat guarding its territory. Wen Yan only laughed.
“I’m guarding our time.”
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