Chapter 45 - Having the chance to share your first snowfall with you — it’s like a reward

As the car slowly pulled away from the gates of Jingnan University, Xiao Wanqing happened to glance across the street—and there they were.

Xia Zhijin and Shi Man, standing at the edge of the sidewalk, caught in a quiet struggle. They faced each other, Zhijin gripping Shi Man’s hand as if trying to hold her back. The night had fallen softly, and from the distance, Wanqing couldn’t make out their expressions. All she could see was Shi Man suddenly yanking her hand away after Zhijin seemed to say something, turning to leave—only for Zhijin to reach out again the next second and pull her into an embrace.

Wanqing looked away, turned the wheel, and merged into the evening traffic.

Her mind drifted to that not-so-distant moment when Zhijin had looked at her with that hollow smile and said, "There’s no more choice in life." Her heart sank, and she couldn’t help letting out a quiet sigh.

Lin Xian, who had just texted Zhou Qin to share the exciting news that their class had won the prize, heard the sigh and teased, “Aunt Xiao, I heard sighing too much can speed up aging!”

Age might be every woman’s weakness—but not Xiao Wanqing’s. She was calm as still water. She only chuckled and said, “Then let me smile to make up for it.” After a slight pause, she hesitantly asked, “Have Zhijin and Manman been having some kind of disagreement lately?”

Thinking about Shi Man running away from home, and Summer Zhijin’s forced smiles, Lin Xian couldn’t help but sigh too. She nodded and replied, “Yeah… but I don’t know exactly what happened. It’s just that Manman’s been gone a long time now. She still refuses to talk to Zhijin.”

Wanqing gave a quiet “oh,” and left it at that.

A while later, just when Lin Xian thought the topic had passed, Wanqing suddenly spoke again, her tone gentle and deliberate. “Maybe you could try persuading Manman… to give Zhijin a little more time and space? If you stretch a string too tight, it breaks. And if you push a person too far… they might break too.”

Lin Xian straightened up, frowning slightly, her voice laced with curiosity. “Aunt Xiao, do you know something?”

Wanqing pressed her lips together and gave a small shake of her head, replying with a light laugh, “I don’t know anything. My instincts just tell me so.”

Lin Xian burst into laughter. “Alright, I’ll talk to Manman when I get the chance.” Her foxy eyes gleamed as they darted around playfully. She leaned in toward Wanqing and asked mischievously, “Aunt Xiao, did your intuition also tell you that I… want a reward?”

“A reward?” Wanqing glanced ahead, confused. “What reward?”

Lin Xian grinned. “I won first prize! I worked so hard for it—doesn’t Aunt Xiao think I deserve a reward?”

Wanqing gave a helpless laugh and glanced at her. “The certificate is yours, the honor is yours, the prize is yours—why should I be the one to reward you?”

Lin Xian pouted, a little disgruntled. “But aren’t you happy I won?”

Wanqing replied without hesitation, “Of course I am.” She recalled how dazzling Lin Xian had looked on stage—so confident, so poised. A faint smile naturally tugged at her lips.

Satisfied, Lin Xian pressed on. “Then the happiness is yours, isn’t it? So, since I worked hard and gave you happiness, shouldn’t you reward me?”

At that moment, the traffic light turned red. Wanqing gradually slowed the car to a stop. She turned her head to look at Lin Xian, her eyes slightly curved as she extended a slender index finger to gently tap the girl’s nose. She couldn’t help but laugh. “Xianxian, I’m pretty sure neither Sister Zhou Qin nor Brother Lin Zhan has your way with words.” She blinked softly, her gaze warm as it settled on Lin Xian’s bright, animated face. “So, tell me—what reward do you want?”

Lin Xian looked up, eyes sparkling as they locked with Wanqing’s. Her lips curved into a smile. Absentmindedly, she tapped her finger on her lips and murmured, “Hmm… let me think. Maybe… a kiss…”

Wanqing’s gaze instinctively dropped as the words fell from Lin Xian’s lips, lingering on the girl's softly moving mouth.

For a brief second, Lin Xian clearly saw Wanqing’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, her back straightening instinctively.

A flicker of mischief flashed in Lin Xian’s eyes.

The next moment, she pulled her finger away from her lips as if nothing had happened and tapped her left cheek deliberately, finishing her sentence: “Which is probably not going to happen. I mean, whenever I did something really great when I was a kid, or got an amazing grade, my mom would get so happy she’d kiss my face all over. But I feel like… Aunt Xiao, you’re not the type to express joy so enthusiastically, right?”

Zhou Qin does that? Wanqing blinked, briefly caught off guard.

But Lin Xian met her gaze openly, eyes bright, clear, and sincere. Wanqing felt the heat rise to her cheeks for some unknown reason. She quickly looked away, fixing her gaze on the red taillights of the car in front of them, and bit her lip. “Yeah… I’m not really.”

Lin Xian, being considerate, said, “So I’ll just ask for something simple and convenient then. Aunt Xiao, how about letting me treat you to dinner at Apollo Plaza on Christmas Eve?”

The yellow light faded and the green came on. Wanqing started driving again, blending smoothly into traffic. The awkwardness from her earlier misunderstanding faded, and she regained her usual calm composure. She said gently, “If you’re the one treating me to dinner, how is that a reward from me?”

Lin Xian leaned back against the soft car seat, completely relaxed. Watching the scenery blur past the window, she said lightly, “Some classmates told me that this Christmas Eve, the newly built musical fountain at Apollo Plaza will be turned on for the first time, and there’ll even be artificial snow. You know, besides the time when I went abroad with my parents for school stuff in North America, I haven’t seen snow in years since we moved back to Anjiang.”

She tilted her head and asked, “What about you, Aunt Xiao? Have you ever seen snow?”

Wanqing’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. After a long pause, she lowered her gaze and whispered, “No, I haven’t.”

Her mother was especially sensitive to the cold—the kind of person who would get chilblains even in a mild southern city like Anjiang. Both she and her father were tender-hearted when it came to her, so during winter holidays, their family never chose destinations where it snowed.

Still, ever since she was little, she had secretly envied the north—those snow-covered cities, skies full of falling snowflakes, and the textbook images of snowball fights and snowmen. So later on, she promised herself that once she grew up, once her parents were finally at ease letting her travel on her own, she’d go north and see it all for herself—the frozen cities, the snow that wrapped everything in white.

Then later still, when those dreams of girlhood blossomed into longing for love, the wish evolved. She didn’t just want to see snow anymore. She wanted to see it with someone she loved.

Unfortunately, once she was grown, she couldn’t bear to be far from her parents. So when it came time to choose a university, she stayed in the province. She settled in Anjiang City—did her undergrad there, then her master’s, then started work.

The year Yan Jia left her, they’d gone traveling together over the May Day holiday. Yan Jia had made a vow—promised that come Christmas, she’d take her to Ice City to see her first snowfall and fulfill the wish she’d carried for years.

But Christmas never came for them.

On Christmas Eve, it rained. She sat quietly on the sofa, watching in silence as Yan Jia pulled her suitcase through the door and disappeared from her life.

Later, her parents passed away too. After that, her life had no more wishes, no more expectations.

Because she’d come to understand: to wish is to invite pain. To expect is to risk disappointment.

That childhood dream—of standing hand-in-hand with someone she loved, watching the snow fall—had long since been forgotten, tucked away with the quiet hush of her heart and lost in the passing years. By coincidence or fate, her job eventually did take her to cities where it snowed—but she never made a point of seeking it out. Not once did she wait or wish for it again.

Even this year, during the National Day trip, when Wen Tong said it wasn’t the best season for viewing snow-capped mountains and that they didn’t need to go out of their way for it, she only felt a small pang of regret. And then, without a word of protest, she agreed.

But really—being thirty-one and never having seen snow… it’s not that ridiculous, is it?

So why was Lin Xian smiling so brightly after hearing her answer?

Xiao Wanqing turned to glance at Lin Xian in puzzlement. Lin Xian looked up and met her gaze. In the girl's eyes was a radiant gleam of laughter. Her voice was light and delighted as she said:

“Then having the chance to share your first snowfall with you, Aunt Xiao—it’s like a reward you’re giving me.”

“So, Aunt Xiao, let’s go see snow together on Christmas Eve.”

In that instant, Xiao Wanqing felt something tremble gently at the tip of her heart.

Maybe… maybe there really is such a strange and mysterious thing as fate.

How else could she explain this girl—Lin Xian—who was so much younger than her, who hadn’t been a part of any of her past life, and yet somehow always managed to stumble right onto the most tender, emphasized notes of her existence… like she knew exactly where all the red circles had been drawn?

Was this what people meant by “a fresh face that feels like an old friend”?

After a long while, Lin Xian heard her reply—soft and smiling: “Okay. Let’s go see snow together.”

When Monday rolled around and classes resumed, Shi Man finally came back to school like normal. During the early morning session, Lin Xian remembered what Xiao Wanqing had advised her and, unable to resist, nervously leaned over to whisper in Shi Man’s ear.

“So… what’s going on with you and Xia Zhijin?”

Shi Man propped her chin up with one hand, a smile tugging irresistibly at her lips. “Zhijin said she just needs a few more days to think things through. So I agreed to go home with her for now.”

Lin Xian blinked in surprise. “Wait… so you were—what? Pushing her to give you an answer?”

Shi Man twirled her pen lazily between her fingers, shook her head, and said, “Not her. I was pressuring my mom.”

She knew perfectly well what was weighing on Xia Zhijin’s heart. Without Shi Jinglan’s support and acceptance, someone like Zhijin—so loyal and full of gratitude—could never truly say yes.

And as for what Shi Jinglan wanted? She knew that even better. Shi Jinglan wanted her to live quietly, follow the rules, and grow into the perfect, obedient heir to the Shi Group. So she had made herself the bargaining chip in a silent negotiation.

And as it turned out, that negotiation ended with Shi Jinglan backing down once again.

The night the competition ended, Shi Jinglan held a video conference at home. Once it wrapped, she called both of them into the study and, right in front of them, made a clear promise:

“I won’t interfere in your relationship. Zhijin, if you want to be with Shi Man, I fully support it. You don’t need to worry about me.”

At the time, Xia Zhijin looked stunned—so much so that her composure turned icy calm. Lin Xian heard her respond to Shi Jinglan, clear and steady: “I’ll give it serious thought.”

The next day, Zhijin packed two outfits and left on her own to visit her grandmother and sister.

Before she left, she gently cupped Shi Man’s face in her hand and said, “Give me a little more time. I’ll come back with an answer.”