Lu Xixiao drove the car into an extremely luxurious residential complex, parking in the underground garage.
Zhou Wan got out of the car and retrieved her suitcase.
Lu Xixiao walked ahead, and she followed silently behind him into the elevator, watching as he pressed the button for the 13th floor.
The elevator ascended, the doors opened, and the interior of the apartment came into view.
It was completely different from the small Western-style house he had lived in back in Pingchuan City. Here, everything was minimalist in black, gray, and white, exuding a cold atmosphere from every corner.
Zhou Wan was still damp from the rain and worried about dirtying the floor, so she didn’t dare to move around carelessly.
Standing in the entryway, she asked softly, "Lu Xixiao, which room will I be staying in?"
He turned his head, raised an eyebrow, and said matter-of-factly, "With me."
Zhou Wan froze.
"I already said you’re here to keep me company. Don’t you understand what that means?" Lu Xixiao took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. "Weren’t you always the best at using yourself to get what you want?"
His voice was laced with coldness.
But after all these years alone, Zhou Wan had grown accustomed to all kinds of harsh words. A few mocking remarks from him weren’t enough to bring her to tears.
She simply lowered her gaze, staring at her toes, feeling at a loss.
"Go take a shower," Lu Xixiao said, pointing to a room. "In here."
…
The hot water here was much more stable than in her rental apartment. It maintained a constant temperature, so she didn’t have to worry about it suddenly scalding her or running out.
Zhou Wan showered and washed her hair. Her change of clothes hung on the doorknob. She put on the clean outfit and used a hairdryer to dry her hair.
Then she looked up at her reflection in the mirror.
Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, her fair skin tinged with pink. Her freshly dried hair was slightly fluffy, falling over her chest and making her face appear even smaller.
Even now, Zhou Wan didn’t believe Lu Xixiao would actually do anything to her.
He wasn’t that kind of person.
No matter how much resentment he held toward her, he wouldn’t stoop to forcing her into anything.
Still, the situation was undeniably tense.
Zhou Wan took a few deep breaths before pushing the door open and stepping out.
Lu Xixiao had already finished showering. He was wearing dark gray pajamas and sitting on the bed with his back to her.
Only then did Zhou Wan realize how long she had taken—showering, washing her hair, and drying it—forcing Lu Xixiao to use the bathroom in another room.
She slowly made her way over and sat down at the edge of the bed.
Her movements were so light, as if afraid of disturbing the person across from her.
Lu Xixiao picked up a bottle of medicine from the bedside table, shook out two pills, and swallowed them dry without water.
Zhou Wan frowned and couldn’t help asking, "What kind of medicine is that?"
"For insomnia."
Zhou Wan was taken aback, but before she could say anything, Lu Xixiao turned off the light.
The bedroom was instantly plunged into darkness.
Just like before, he preferred to keep the curtains drawn, blocking out the city lights and leaving the room pitch black.
Zhou Wan felt him pull back the covers and lie down. Her spine grew increasingly stiff. Just then, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her backward. She fell onto the bed, her hair splaying out around her.
Lu Xixiao turned on his side, his warm breath brushing against her ear.
"Your acting isn’t as good as it used to be," he said, every word sharp.
Zhou Wan didn’t want to argue with him. She tried to relax her tense body and nerves, gently shifting to pull the covers over herself and lie down.
A chasm seemed to lie between them. Zhou Wan stayed close to the edge of the bed, where the slightest misstep could send her tumbling to the floor.
"Zhou Wan," he said.Zhou Wan had no choice but to shift toward the center. When the back of her hand brushed against him, it felt like an electric shock, and she immediately froze.
Their current relationship was at once the most explicit and filthy, yet also the purest and most intense.
As her hand touched his, Zhou Wan instinctively turned her head to look at him.
Though the surroundings were pitch black, Lu Xixiao’s eyes were strikingly bright.
Narrow and devoid of emotion, they resembled stagnant water. But as their gazes met, he paused for a moment, and then an indescribable surge of emotions flooded his eyes.
It was like a spark ignited in the dark, desolate depths of the night.
No one knew how many times it had been lit, only to be extinguished again and again, leaving nothing but ashes scattered on the ground.
He abruptly propped himself up, his movements forceful. The atmosphere was too dangerous, and Zhou Wan instinctively raised her hands to shield herself, only to have him grab her wrists, pinning them forcefully above her head.
Zhou Wan struggled, lifting her legs to resist, but he used his knees to restrain her.
Then he leaned down and pressed his lips fiercely against hers.
Zhou Wan frowned tightly, letting out a pained "Mmm." It was less of a kiss and more of a bite.
Clumsy, reckless, and rough—it was all for the sake of release.
Releasing every sleepless night he had endured over the past six years, releasing every inch of obsession that had nowhere to go, releasing the cold and distant words she had spoken in their final phone call—"I don’t love you"—and releasing the last word she had said to him before she left.
But no matter how much he released, it was never enough.
The fire and obsession raging inside him still couldn’t find an outlet.
He could even taste the metallic tang of blood, yet it still wasn’t enough.
Nothing was enough.
Lu Xixiao raised his hand and pressed it against her slender neck, forcing her to lift her head.
"Zhou Wan." His voice was hoarse, his eyes dark and brooding. With a face full of intensity, he spoke coldly, each word deliberate and oppressive: "Call me 'brother.'"
In the end, it was that very word—"brother"—that had made him let go of her hand back then.
And now, even he couldn’t say for sure whether he was tormenting Zhou Wan or tormenting himself.
The moment Zhou Wan heard that word, her entire body stiffened visibly, as if she had been deeply humiliated. She clenched her lips tightly, turned her face away, and refused to let him kiss her.
Lu Xixiao turned her face back toward him and patted it mockingly. "What are you pretending for? Wasn’t it you who seduced me, your 'brother,' back then?"
"I didn’t," Zhou Wan retorted, her eyes reddening.
That was her most shameful, most buried memory—something she never wanted to bring up. Yet Lu Xixiao was forcing her to confront her past self in the most direct way possible.
Overwhelmed by shame, her entire body flushed red, and her eyes grew wet. Biting her lip, her voice choked with pain, she said, "Why do even you have to bully me?"
That day, she had endured enough bullying.
And now, with Lu Xixiao, he had to say such things to humiliate her.
Yet her words suddenly ignited a fury in him. "Who’s bullying who?! Zhou Wan, no matter how you slice it or break it down, it’s always been you who’s wronged me!"
Zhou Wan covered her face and curled into a ball.
Lu Xixiao knelt on the bed, silently watching her, her fragmented sobs filling his ears.
But in the end, he didn’t reach out to comfort her. Without a word, his expression dark, he got up, changed his clothes, and slammed the door as he left.
Lu Xixiao did not return for the rest of the night.
The next morning, Zhou Wan woke up and thought about cleaning, but his place was so stark and empty that there was hardly anything to tidy.She turned on her computer, revised her resume, and sent it out to a few companies.
...
Over the next few days, Lu Xixiao still hadn’t returned, and all the resumes Zhou Wan had sent out sank without a trace—there was no response at all.
At first, she thought it was because it was hard to find a job at the end of the year, but her qualifications weren’t bad: she had graduated from a prestigious university with a high GPA and had plenty of internship experience. It shouldn’t have been the case that not even a single small company replied to her.
Zhou Wan sighed as she looked at the empty inbox on her computer screen.
Her previous company was an industry leader—maybe it had something to do with them.
Suddenly, the WeChat icon in the bottom right corner blinked.
The dorm leader from her university days had sent a message in the group chat, asking if everyone wanted to celebrate New Year’s Eve together.
Only then did Zhou Wan realize that today was already New Year’s Eve.
Her friends quickly replied, agreeing to the plan, and Zhou Wan also sent back a "Sure."
...
In the evening, after washing her hair, Zhou Wan headed out and took the subway to the agreed-upon hotpot restaurant.
The other three wouldn’t be able to make it until after work, so Zhou Wan went ahead to get a queue number. That way, as soon as they arrived, they could be seated and start eating right away.
It had been half a year since they graduated from university, and all of them had been so busy that they’d never managed to get all four of them together until now.
As soon as they met, they started venting about the strange people and situations they’d encountered at work. They asked Zhou Wan, "Wanwan, how about you?"
Zhou Wan paused for a moment. "I’m unemployed now."
"Why?"
Zhou Wan told them what had happened to her over the past few days.
"How come you didn’t tell us about something this big?"
"You’ve all been so busy—I didn’t want to worry you." Zhou Wan smiled. "It’s fine. I’ll just send out more resumes and try to find another job."
"That’s so unfair! You didn’t do anything wrong!" Her roommate was indignant on her behalf. "Is there really nothing else you can do?"
Zhou Wan poked at the straw in her milk tea and shook her head.
"Forget it. A company that doesn’t even bother to get the facts straight is bound to go under sooner or later! Staying there wouldn’t have been good for your career anyway. Finding something else is probably for the best," her roommate comforted her.
"Yeah."
After the meal, the four of them strolled around the streets for a while.
The dorm leader was a local, while the other two roommates were from out of town. They had bought plane tickets for the next couple of days, so they took the opportunity to buy some local specialties to bring back home.
There was a particularly famous pastry shop, and they all bought some to take back for their families.
The New Year gift boxes were beautifully packaged—they were sampler boxes where you could choose your own styles and flavors. Zhou Wan bought one as well. Thinking that Lu Xixiao didn’t like things that were too sweet, she picked more coconut and matcha flavors.
"There are still three hours until the countdown. Should we go watch a movie?"
"Sure, let me see if there are any seats left."
The cinema on New Year’s Eve was packed. Only one screening had three empty seats left, and they were in the front row.
But half an hour into the movie, they regretted it. It was a violent action film with some gory scenes—no wonder there were still seats available. Who would watch something like this on New Year’s Eve?
Fortunately, the fight scenes were well-choreographed, and Zhou Wan managed to sit through the entire film.
When the movie ended, the lights came on.
Zhou Wan gently rubbed her neck a couple of times—it was a bit sore from craning her head for so long.
As they walked out, the dorm leader complained about how boring the movie was.
"I thought it was okay, actually. The plot was pretty interesting," Zhou Wan said with a smile. "It just wasn’t the best choice for today."
"That movie had way too many plot holes. It made me frown the whole time—I couldn’t even follow the storyline properly.""Where's the plot hole?"
The dorm leader said, "Right at the part where the male protagonist blocks the knife. It's clearly forced tragedy for tragedy's sake. From his angle, any normal person would choose to shove their friend aside. Who would stupidly charge forward to stand in front of them? At the very least, the wound should be on the back—how could it possibly be the chest? The male protagonist is a police officer—doesn't he know chest injuries are the most dangerous?"
Zhou Wan recalled the movie's plot.
That scene suddenly overlapped with a memory in her mind.
Her footsteps faltered, her heart pounding heavily.
"Why?"
"You'll understand if you think about it. There's even research proving this—in such situations, most people would either retreat or stay put. Only 1% would charge forward. And from that position in the movie, the safest and most optimal approach would be to tackle his friend from the front. People have self-preservation instincts—even if they value the other person's life more than their own, they wouldn't take that posture. It would definitely be a back injury."
Zhou Wan felt her blood run cold, then boil, her heartbeat accelerating.
A strange thought surfaced in her mind.
But she didn't dare dwell on it.
Lu Xixiao knew how to fight. Back then, he fought fiercely and precisely, and many people feared him.
He should have been able to calculate the optimal solution.
Yet he didn't.
That knife had struck above the heart—dangerously deep, leaving him unconscious in the ICU for a long time and hospitalized for over a month before he recovered.
Why?
Why did he do it?
...
Even after returning to Lu Xixiao's apartment, Zhou Wan was still thinking about it.
After showering, she sat alone by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the streets outside.
It was past midnight—already the first day of the Lunar New Year. The streets were lively, with many couples and friends still strolling together.
Lu Xixiao still hadn't returned.
Zhou Wan thought he might have gone back to Pingchuan City.
During their school days, he would always be summoned by Old Mr. Lu to the ancestral home for New Year's celebrations.
She hadn't thought of it earlier—if she had, she wouldn't have bought that box of pastries. They were so expensive.
Freshly made pastries had a short shelf life. By the time Lu Xixiao returned, they'd probably be inedible.
Zhou Wan sighed softly and stood up, picking up the pastry box from the dining table to store it in the refrigerator.
Just as she stepped forward, the door suddenly clicked.
Zhou Wan looked up.
The door pushed open, and Lu Xixiao entered carrying a suitcase. He wore a black overcoat that accentuated his tall frame, long legs, and broad shoulders dusted with unmelted snow.
"Is it snowing outside?" Zhou Wan asked instinctively—she hadn't noticed earlier.
Lu Xixiao glanced at her. "Light snow."
Pingchuan City rarely saw snow, but B City had it every year.
They no longer needed to rush onto green-skinned trains on New Year's Eve to see snow elsewhere like they used to.
But now that snow had become commonplace, it often went unnoticed.
Zhou Wan walked over and helped him move the suitcase aside. A baggage tag was still stuck to the handle.
She froze, remembering his fear of heights.
"Did you just get off a flight?" Zhou Wan asked.
"Yeah."
"Can you handle flying now without your fear of heights acting up?"
"It's manageable. Not too bad."
Tolerable.
Zhou Wan blinked. "From Pingchuan City?"
"No." His voice was slightly hoarse, his eyes bloodshot as if he hadn't slept well. "Business trip."
Zhou Wan was taken aback.She had thought that after their argument, he didn't want to see her and had been staying elsewhere these days.
"Have you had dinner?"
"No."
Zhou Wan glanced at the time—it was almost one in the morning.
He was still the same as before, never eating his meals on time.
"Are you hungry?" Zhou Wan asked softly from the side. "Shall I cook something for you?"
Lu Xixiao looked up, his expression indifferent as he studied her for a moment before replying, "There's nothing in the fridge."
"I bought a few things and put them in there a couple of days ago." Zhou Wan paused, watching his expression. "Is that okay?"
He took off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair, his tone casual. "Mm."
Zhou Wan's lips curved slightly.
She had originally bought some frozen breakfast items, thinking Lu Xixiao could eat them when he went to work. She had bought a variety—shrimp dumplings, shaomai, noodles.
Bending over in front of the fridge, Zhou Wan asked, "Lu Xixiao, what would you like to eat?"
"Anything."
"How about noodles?"
"Sure."
Zhou Wan took out a bundle of plain noodles and picked the freshest tomato, planning to make tomato noodles.
She brought the box of pastries she had bought outside to the dining table. "If you're hungry, you can have some of these first. This layer is matcha flavor, and the ones at the bottom are coconut flavor. They're not too sweet."
His kitchen was equipped with pots, bowls, and chopsticks, but none showed any signs of use.
They were probably there since he first moved in.
Lu Xixiao had been on a business trip for nearly a week in a city down south.
He disliked winter, snow, and the howling cold wind. He had initially planned to stay there for the New Year, but for some reason, he felt he should return. So, he bought a ticket and flew back overnight.
Sitting at the dining table, he could see Zhou Wan bustling in the kitchen.
She wore a beige sweater with slim-fit jeans underneath, her legs slender and straight, her proportions excellent. The exposed skin of her wrists glowed pale white.
Six years apart—she really was different from her student days. Still gentle, but more vibrant and striking.
After a while, he picked up one of the exquisitely made pastries in front of him.
He couldn't remember how many years it had been since he last ate something like this. To be precise, he had never liked such things since childhood, finding them too sweet and cloying.
He took a bite—the rich matcha flavor carried a slight bitterness. Indeed, it wasn't sweet.
Just like Zhou Wan.
She wasn't sweet either, carrying a bitter taste, yet it lingered on the palate for a long time.
Lu Xixiao suddenly remembered something—
"Zhou Wan, let's spend every New Year together from now on."
A text message he had sent to Zhou Wan many years ago, during that Spring Festival.
He had never made a point to remember it, nor had he particularly recalled it over the years. He hadn't even thought of it when he booked his flight for tonight.
Yet, some inexplicable feeling had pushed him to do it, pushed him to return.
Lu Xixiao closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.
He felt like smoking again.
He patted his pockets but didn't find his lighter—he had taken it out before boarding.
So, he took another bite of the matcha pastry.
...
Zhou Wan stewed the tomatoes until they were soft and pulpy, the broth rich with tomato flavor. Every strand of noodle was coated in the vibrant, appetizing sauce. She reduced the liquid slightly, turned off the heat, and poured it into a bowl.
"Try it," Zhou Wan said, placing the bowl of noodles in front of him.
Lu Xixiao hadn't originally felt like eating, but the sweet and sour tomato broth and the chewy noodles Zhou Wan made were surprisingly appetizing.She used to cook before, but back then she was busy studying, working part-time, and taking care of her grandma. She only made the simplest home-style dishes—just enough to eat—and never explored different recipes.
Lu Xixiao took a bite. Zhou Wan watched his expression and asked, "How is it?"
"Fine," he said. "Better than the one in Pingchuan."
When they were in Pingchuan City, they had only eaten at one noodle shop—the same place Zhou Wan had taken him to when they first met. The taste was indeed ordinary, but it was cheap. Back then, Zhou Wan had noticed he barely touched his noodles there.
Recalling the past, Zhou Wan couldn’t help but smile, her eyes curving.
She was very beautiful when she smiled. Her features had matured into a soft and gentle appearance, with delicate eyebrows and eyes. But when she smiled, it added a touch of brightness—a contrast that was particularly captivating.
Lu Xixiao was momentarily stunned. He lowered his gaze and said casually, "Did you often cook for yourself in college?"
"No, I was busy studying in college and always ate at the cafeteria. I learned these dishes before college." Zhou Wan paused and added softly, "After leaving Pingchuan City."
Lu Xixiao looked up.
Zhou Wan explained, "After leaving Pingchuan, I worked at a restaurant to save money. I studied there for over half a year before returning to school, so I graduated a year later than usual."
Lu Xixiao frowned.
Over the years, it wasn’t that he lacked the ability to investigate Zhou Wan. If he had really wanted to, he could have found out everything she did or ate each day.
But he had stubbornly held onto his pride. After bending down once and being met with "I don’t love you," he had forced himself never to lower his head again.
He never imagined that one day they would be able to sit together like this, calmly talking about the past.
Still, no matter how much they talked, it was only skimming the surface. Neither of them dared to touch upon the real past.
"As a chef?"
"Of course not." Zhou Wan smiled faintly, showing no trace of resentment toward the past. "With my skills, how could I be a chef? I just helped with prepping ingredients and washing the dishes."
Lu Xixiao finished the last bite of his noodles.
Zhou Wan stood up and took the bowl, preparing to wash it.
Just as she was about to turn around, Lu Xixiao suddenly grabbed her wrist.
Her steps halted abruptly, and even her breathing slowed.
His fingers were long and bony, gripping her arm tightly. The force made his veins slightly visible. His sleeves were pulled up to his forearms, and the warmth from his fingertips transmitted to her skin.
His fingers slid downward to her palm and took the bowl and chopsticks from her.
"I’ll do it," Lu Xixiao said calmly.
Zhou Wan replied, "It’s fine. I’ll wash it quickly."
Ignoring her, Lu Xixiao walked straight into the kitchen and turned on the water.
The tall, sharp-looking man seemed entirely out of place at the kitchen counter. Splashes of water wet his expensive shirt, and his hands were so beautiful it felt almost a shame to let him do any dirty work—at least, that was what Zhou Wan thought.
She reached out, trying to take the noodle bowl from the sink.
Lu Xixiao frowned and pulled her aside by her sleeve.
When he frowned, he looked particularly impatient and fierce. Zhou Wan glanced at him, pressed her lips together, and didn’t move.
"It’s so late. If you have an allergic reaction again, there’ll be no one to bring you medicine," he said flatly.
Zhou Wan was taken aback.
Back when she worked at the restaurant, she washed dishes every day. Her hands would be soaked in water for hours, often turning red and purple, wrinkled like rotten radishes.She had long grown accustomed to it and no longer cared about this skin allergy, never bothering to take allergy medicine unless it started itching.
Now, it was just washing a single bowl—Zhou Wan didn’t think much of it.
But Lu Xixiao remembered.
He remembered everything.
From the time Zhou Wan was 16 and got together with him until she left, he never let her touch cold water again.
And even now, it remained the same.
Grease floated on the water's surface, but Lu Xixiao paid it no mind. His pale, clean hands reached beneath the water, swiftly washing the bowls, draining them, then bending to place them in the cupboard.
Zhou Wan stared blankly at his movements, her eyes stinging slightly.
Over the years, she hadn't cried when her hands became covered with chilblains from washing dishes in winter, hadn't cried during the lonely days of her final year of high school, hadn't cried when she got into university as she'd hoped, and hadn't cried when she faced unfair treatment at work.
But now, watching Lu Xixiao wash a bowl, she suddenly felt a tightness in her nose.
"Lu Xixiao," she called.
He didn't answer, only turned his head and looked at her with a calm gaze.
Zhou Wan didn't dare meet his eyes. Lowering her head, she whispered softly, "Back then at the abandoned station, why did you shield me like that? You could have avoided getting so badly injured."
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