Peppermint
These past few days, Shen Xifan had been busy with Li Jie’s materials and hadn’t slept well. At work, she yawned incessantly, and by the time she got home, she was already in a daze. Walking along the road, she absentmindedly trudged through the snow. The thick layer beneath her feet felt amusing, so she stomped down heavily with each step, the crunching sound giving her a domineering sense of satisfaction.
Lately, she kept wondering, "Am I under too much pressure?"
The poor, pristine snow suffered the most, indirectly trampled under her frustration.
Ultimately, it had something to do with that guy He Suye. She missed him—subtly, lightly, but once the thought surfaced, it lingered, stretching endlessly.
Yet there was a bitterness to it, not like the taste of coffee or the lingering fragrance of bitter tea. It was more like the flavor of Chinese herbal medicine—forced down for healing, unavoidable. Just like him—unavoidable to miss.
Frustrated, she bumped her head against the bookshelf, accidentally knocking down a precarious pile of books. Shen Xifan yelped, relishing the cathartic sensation of the books tumbling onto her, a perfect way to vent her emotions.
She laughed, a loud, unrestrained laugh, realizing how silly she was—but adorably so. She couldn’t help but like herself for it.
She sat on the floor, sorting through the scattered books, her eyes brimming with amusement. They were all her university textbooks and reference materials, some of which were completely blank, not even bearing her name.
The days of skipping class, dozing off during lectures, and pulling all-nighters for exams were long gone. She was independent now, shouldering responsibilities.
But those times had been truly wonderful. It was only after losing them that she learned to cherish them. Now, all she could do was spend endless years reminiscing about those fleeting days.
Then her hand froze. Among the books, she spotted a photograph and a few letters. After a moment’s hesitation, she picked them up. The flimsy papers felt unbearably heavy in her hands.
Because they carried pain, their weight wasn’t in her hands but in her heart.
In the photo, she was smiling blissfully, her eyes brimming with genuine sweetness, her arm linked with Yan Heng’s. He wasn’t looking at the camera but gazing at her with adoration. Back then, everyone thought they were a match made in heaven.
When in love, every girl is an angel, blessed by the gods, radiant with happiness.
But now, she turned toward the glass cabinet door and forced what she thought was a bright smile. The reflection staring back at her was dull-eyed, the smile strained—a stark, ironic contrast to the photo.
How ironic, she thought, that she had to run into her first love again after three years, with some inexplicable entanglement still lingering between them.
She tossed the photo and letters back into the cabinet and sat down at her computer to continue translating the materials. Unnoticed, the letters fluttered to the ground.
"Every day, I suddenly find myself with so much extra time. So I look around, I idle about.
Do you know? Every day when I pass the mailbox by the school, the moment I see it, I feel an urge—to write down all our past days and stuff them into that mailbox. And on every envelope, there would be the same address: Love." The mailbox doesn't speak, but it knows I love you. Even if you no longer love me and have left me, I still want to cling stubbornly to memories of the past in this way.
"On the highway, clusters of clouds are drawn by the sunlight. In the pale blue sky, the moon and sun shine simultaneously, just like your face when I saw you for the second time—blinding my heart and eyes in an instant. From then on, I cared for nothing else, as long as I could be with you. What did it matter if the heavens collapsed and the earth split?
I think I've always forgotten to ask you—what did you feel when you first saw me?
I never asked, and you never told. Now there's no chance left, and I feel such regret."
"Time passes so quickly. The cherry blossoms scatter, the roses bloom, the gardenias take their final bow, and the first lotuses unfold. In the blink of an eye, our lives have traveled far along this unpredictable path.
Truthfully, even now I don't regret loving you. But we're both adults now, and we must learn to accept certain inevitable things. We must understand that two people who once loved each other deeply may still not end up together due to circumstances."
The next day at work, she felt somewhat weary. Watching the melting snow drip outside the window, she was inexplicably disheartened. She thought, if only things could stay like this forever—the world blanketed in white, frozen in time.
Ultimately, she considered herself a nostalgic person, always uncertain how to take the next step.
Today was Lin Yishen's turn for duty. Shen Xifan left extremely late due to budget issues in the guest services department. In the entire administrative building, only the PR office and the first-floor secretariat still had their lights on. Smiling, she decided to stop by and say goodbye before leaving.
Moonlight, tinged with the hue of snow, illuminated the corridor—beautiful yet chillingly desolate, sending a bone-deep cold through anyone who saw it. Unconsciously, she reached out to touch it, her palm translucent under its glow.
Suddenly, the phone rang sharply. Startled, she withdrew her hand and hurriedly answered, but there was no response from the other end. She had no choice but to ask, "Hello, who are you looking for?"
His voice called softly to her, "Xiaofan... I miss you..." The tone was calm, drifting through the long corridor with a dreamlike detachment.
Three years ago, he had said these same words to her.
It was the first time they held hands. The winter wind blew fiercely as they walked hand in hand around the sports field, lap after lap, until the lights went out and he finally walked her back. Reluctant to let go, he clung to her hand until she finally pulled away.
Before she could even reach her dorm, his call came: "Xiaofan... I miss you..."
That night, she lay awake, the warmth of his touch lingering in her palm. In the darkness, she slowly savored those words—"Xiaofan, I miss you"—her heart overflowing with joy as she buried her face in the blankets to stifle her giggles.
Back then, this was how he began every phone call.
But now, she felt strangely calm. She told herself that what was coming couldn't be avoided. Following the sound, she turned around, closed her phone, and lightly furrowed her brows. "What is it?"
He had grown thinner, haggard, covered in the dust of travel, his tie askew, beads of sweat on his forehead. Yet his expression remained as confident as ever, as if everything was still under his control.
In the past, seeing him like this would have filled her with pride. But now, as he looked at her with that same gaze, she felt sorrow and anger. He had hurt her so deeply—how dare he still treat her as if she were that same foolish girl from back then?Yan Heng strode over quickly, his breath slightly uneven. He spoke softly, "I missed you. After parting with you that night, I went to America. There, I realized how much I missed you. At night, I tossed and turned with thoughts of you. So I had to come back to tell you—I missed you."
Her heart churned like a stormy sea, yet her face remained composed. "Is that all you wanted to say?"
"No!" Yan Heng's voice was firm as he took a step forward, cautiously attempting to embrace Shen Xifan. Unexpectedly, she shifted slightly, evading his touch.
Undeterred, he gripped her arms tightly, pressing his chin against her head. Shen Xifan struggled, but it was futile. Exhausted, she finally gave up, staring blankly into the distance at the endless dark corridor.
After a long silence, he whispered to her, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Xiaofan. I was wrong three years ago. Will you come back to me now?"
These were the words she had waited three years to hear. But instead of the joy she had imagined, all she felt was an overwhelming urge to cry—to sob out all the grievances, resentment, and bitterness of those three years. She hated him for the cruelty he had once shown her.
How could he still say "I'm sorry" to her now? How could he even speak those words? What more did he want from her?
Then, in an instant, she understood: missing that one moment meant missing a lifetime.
Sensing Shen Xifan's unnatural stiffness, Yan Heng loosened his grip, wanting to see her face. But before he could, she mustered all her strength to break free and ran away without looking back.
A single tear stained his suit deeply.
He was about to chase after her when a cold voice spoke from behind, "She won't see you. Please leave first."
Lin Yishen stood under the orange glow of the light, hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorframe. A faint, mocking smile played on his lips, his expression unreadably gentle. "Go home. She needs time to think."
Yan Heng reined in his imposing aura and walked toward the stairs. Lin Yishen approached him, wearing an inscrutable smile.
When Yan Heng turned back again, Lin Yishen was already gone. Only his parting words lingered in the empty corridor: "She's my junior sister. How could you make her cry?"
Outside the window, the pale moon gazed indifferently upon the world. In the silent cycle of fate, someone sighed soundlessly.
"Don't cry, junior sister..."
Shen Xifan lifted her head, her eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness. Dizzy, she steadied herself and stared at Lin Yishen, opening her mouth several times but unable to find the right words.
"He won't come. I already sent him away." Lin Yishen looked surprised upon seeing her clearly. "Oh, you weren't crying? I worried for nothing."
Shen Xifan forced a weak smile. "Of course not. Someone like him isn’t worth my tears. I just didn’t want to face him."
Lin Yishen chuckled lightly, casually tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Shen Xifan sighed. "Senior brother, you seem to have a lot of free time. Unfortunately, I don’t. I need to go home for dinner."
As she reached the door, she hesitated, then tentatively asked, "Senior brother, do you know about... me and him?"Lin Yishen, sitting on the table, didn't look at her but gazed out the window absentmindedly, his tone ethereal, each word striking her heart, "You're my junior sister... How could I not know?"
Tonight, Shen Xifan truly felt she had run into some bad luck.
Leaving the hotel but not wanting to go home, she wandered aimlessly down the street. Some snow still lingered by the roadside, now covered in a layer of dust, no longer pure white.
She remembered that night when He Suye had walked her home—the snow had been falling heavily, beautifully, swirling all around them. He Suye had held an umbrella for her, but she had preferred playing in the snow, refusing to let him shield her. That night's snow had been crystalline, flawless white.
Back then, she had sung in the midst of the blizzard, "Sometimes, sometimes, I believe everything has an end. Meetings and partings happen in their own time. Nothing lasts forever. But sometimes, I'd rather hold on and not let go..."
He Suye had watched her with a smile, then told her, "Red beans are neutral in nature, sweet and sour in taste, clearing heat and detoxifying, strengthening the spleen and stopping diarrhea, promoting diuresis and reducing swelling. Red beans boiled with forsythia and angelica can treat liver abscesses; red beans boiled with dandelion and licorice can treat intestinal pain."
She had laughed at him for his occupational habit, calling him pedantic and old-fashioned, while he teased her for acting mature despite being a young girl. In the end, even he forgot to hold the umbrella, playing with her until they were both soaked in snowmelt.
Was love like snow too? Once tainted by dust, it could never return to its original purity.
After walking a long way, she grew tired and wanted to take the bus home. But after rummaging through her bag, she realized she had forgotten her wallet.
With a bitter laugh, she really didn’t want to call home and invite unnecessary scolding. So she scrolled through her contacts one by one. When she reached He Suye’s name, she paused—then resolutely dialed.
"He Suye, can I skip the meal Li Jie wanted to treat me to?"
Perhaps he wasn’t at home—there was some noise around him—but his voice came through clearly, "Little girl, what scheme are you up to now?"
Shen Xifan laughed helplessly. "I was thinking... Doctor He, could you take pity on me with your skilled and benevolent hands? The thing is, I forgot my wallet and can’t get home right now..."
He Suye actually came. Coincidentally, he had been at the university, very close to where she was. She watched him step off the bus, a single-strap bag slung over his shoulder, the buttons of his trench coat still undone, his breeze-tousled hair. Then he stood before her and said softly, "Let’s go."
Just those two words made Shen Xifan feel like crying.
She had always pretended to be so strong. No matter how much she hated Yan Heng, she carefully concealed it in front of him, unwilling to lose even an inch of ground. No matter how wronged she felt, she refused to cry in front of outsiders.
But those two tender words made her emotions pile up, desperate for an outlet.
A large bowl of Lanzhou hand-pulled noodles, brimming with broth and fragrant beef, the noisy bustle of people coming and going, the owner occasionally exchanging a word or two with customers—mostly banter—steam rising, reddening Shen Xifan’s eyes.
She ate voraciously, not daring to stop for even a moment. She feared that if she paused, her tears would spill uncontrollably. The man across from her, even in this humble little street-side eatery, was still so warm.He smiled as he ordered a large bowl of ramen for himself, then silently watched as she picked out all the beef from hers, quietly transferring the beef from his own bowl to hers. He always picked up his chopsticks after her but finished before her, and would ask if she wanted anything else.
Shen Xifan wanted to cry. She wanted to find an excuse to sob, to cry out all her grievances and resentment.
There were too many things she couldn’t understand or see clearly. She wanted her vision to blur a little, to see the things closest to her—her own feelings.
Passing by the supermarket in the neighborhood, she borrowed some money and came out with a pack of mint candies. He Suye clicked his tongue in surprise, “That brand is really spicy!”
Shen Xifan glared at him indignantly, tearing open the wrapper with a rustle. “What? You want some too?”
He Suye shook his head. “Too intense for me, I can’t handle it.” With that, he turned away, ready to head home.
Then she stuffed a handful of mint candies into her mouth. A wave of minty flavor rushed straight to her brain, and she was thoroughly stung and choked by it. The menthol stimulated her tear ducts, and as she lowered her head, she watched tears drip onto the ground, yet she felt no sorrow.
All that grievance, pain, and resentment couldn’t compare to the occasional warmth. Just a little bit of warmth was enough to satisfy her.
He Suye seemed to sense something and stopped, turning back to look at Shen Xifan. He found her crouched behind him, her face buried in her clothes, and quickly squatted in front of her, looking concerned. “Little girl, what’s wrong?”
“It’s too spicy…” Shen Xifan refused to lift her head, rubbing her face against her clothes in an attempt to erase the traces of her tears.
He Suye sighed. “I told you not to eat so much. It’s like patchouli—very pungent. Though mint can dispel wind-heat, clear toxins, and treat external wind-heat symptoms like headaches, red eyes, sore throat, bloating, mouth ulcers, and toothaches.”
Shen Xifan finally looked up, her eyes red. “He Suye, you’re so noisy… Why can’t you ever drop your professional habits…”
Still crouched in front of her, he took the pack of mint candies, scanning for a trash bin while teasing her. “Well, if I didn’t talk so much, would you have looked up at me?”
“He Suye, the mint is so spicy… I’m choking. I want to spit it out…”
“Hold it in!”
Sitting on a bench in the neighborhood garden, Shen Xifan finally caught her breath, only to be met with He Suye’s smile. “Mint leaves a lingering fragrance on your lips and teeth, but not everyone has the courage to try it.”
Shen Xifan laughed. “He Suye, you don’t have the courage?”
“Me? No, I just don’t like it.”
“Then do you think love tastes like mint?”
“Little girl, love can taste like anything—sweet, sour, bitter, spicy. It can’t be summed up so simply. But every relationship leaves a mark—sometimes bitter, sometimes fragrant…”
“What if there’s a love called ‘lost and found’…”
“Silly girl, love can’t be lost and found. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. Even if it comes back, it won’t be the same. When you toss a mint candy into your mouth, it starts with a spicy kick, then the fragrance lingers, and finally, a hint of sweetness leaves you wanting more. Every stage tastes different. A love cut short is like a half-eaten mint candy—how can ‘lost and found’ ever match the flavor of the beginning?”
“He Suye, I don’t know either…”
“Then take your time to think. Time helps people understand many things…”The wind was fierce, blowing the snow off the trees in flurries. It brushed past her face, turning into tiny droplets of moisture that evaporated and disappeared. Perhaps there would be a second snowfall this year, or even a third.
Time would pass. The emotions that had left her bewildered, the person who had stirred her heart—she would take the time to think it all through. She would wait for the second snowfall, then its melting, the third snowfall, and then for spring.
She believed everything would have its answer—about herself, about Yan Heng, about the pain of first love, about love itself.
OpenNovel