On the ride home, Li Jichuan’s lips curved in a faint smile as he plucked a dried blade of grass from Su Pu’s hair.
Winter was really coming…
He reflected on the first—or rather, the long-awaited—time he had seen Su Pu again, back in midsummer.
Li Jichuan’s fingers tightened around Su Pu’s hand. The little mute tried to pull away, shyly biting his lip and glancing at the driver.
Li Jichuan deliberately held on, teasing him.
A silent “battle” ensued in the backseat.
After a while, Li Jichuan laughed, pulling Su Pu into his embrace. Relief washed over him.
Unlike Su Pu, Li Jichuan didn’t mind being clingy. Having finally found true love, he didn’t want a single second apart.
Who cared what the driver thought? Even stepping back, they were already married.
Two hearts genuinely in love—everything they did was justified.
“You know… two years ago, the day I had that car accident… it was you who saved me.”
Su Pu focused, nodding slightly.
He had just recovered this memory.
His mind had filtered it out before, unable to accept it.
Su Pu realized the doctor had been right—he still didn’t fully know himself.
Li Jichuan, though regretting it, also felt lucky.
After the accident, his mental state had been poor, resisting contact with the outside world, even flirting with thoughts of ending his life.
Physical pain was minor compared to the torment of the mind. He had gone from fearless and able-bodied to broken, scarred, reliant on a wheelchair.
He couldn’t bear pitying glances.
If he was to become different, he wanted to be the formidable one, not the pitiful one.
Thus, even if Su Pu had remembered everything at the time, Li Jichuan would have merely instructed his family to thank him and nothing more.
Thinking of this, Li Jichuan brought Su Pu’s hand to his lips, gently kissing the back of it.
“Xiao Pu… you’re my lucky star…”
Meeting you made me realize that the word ‘ordinary’ is synonymous with happiness.
I’m willing to love you in this ordinary, cliché way, hoping all ordinary blessings come true for us.
I want to grow old with you, live in harmony; to treat you with respect and love, heart to heart.
Su Pu, however, felt overwhelmed by this clingy affection, yet couldn’t help shedding tears of happiness.
…
Three days later, it was time for Li Jichuan’s rehab again.
This time, Su Pu was determined to follow.
Li Jichuan relented, letting him come along.
Unexpectedly, after the session, the little mute cried even more than Li Jichuan.
Swollen eyes, blocked nose—anyone seeing him might think they’d faced a life-or-death ordeal.
Entering the lobby, Su Pu’s legs were weak, nearly collapsing.
Li Jichuan quickly grabbed him, placing him on his lap, carrying him out.
The front desk staff whispered:
“Who was actually in rehab?”
“No idea… but the little one cried so pitifully…”
Back in the car, Su Pu continued crying, fishing his phone from his coat pocket, typing quietly.
Li Jichuan, finally losing patience, ruffled his hair and asked:
“Xiao Pu… my grandfather’s been gone a long time. Are you still keeping records for him? Couldn’t you use that energy for something else?”
Su Pu, surprised, handed the phone to him without hesitation:
【November 10: Fell 14 times, stood independently 4 seconds, walked 40 cm.】
Li Jichuan’s nose went sour. He returned the phone, pressing it gently against Su Pu’s hand. The boy, like a stubborn teenager, said:
“Why keep track of this?”
“And why does this phone matter? You even have a secondary SIM card and still haven’t bought a better one…”
Su Pu’s phone was old, worn through many years, slow to respond.
He pocketed it and gently covered Li Jichuan’s hand, smiling tenderly.
He glanced outside, pointing, silently mouthing “ah.”
Li Jichuan followed his gaze.
Snow was falling.
The second snow of the year.
…
Snow blanketed Yun City, soft and fluffy like steamed sugar cake.
The second snowfall hadn’t even melted before the third began.
Time moved more quietly than the snow, flipping through the calendar pages, and the north wind swept the last withered leaves from the treetops.
By late December, Yun City was draped in white, roads pristine as clouds.
In just one month, Su Pu underwent several more psychological consultations.
The doctor tailored a new treatment plan for him, including voice guidance and memory-recovery hypnosis.
Su Pu also developed several new coffee blends, drawing inspiration from the subtleties of daily life—clever and lively.
Oh, and for observation purposes, Pei Zhicheng had become a regular at the café.
He came when Ouyang was there, and sometimes when Ouyang was absent, Su Pu himself would be present.
Su Pu offered him the new coffee to taste. Pei Zhicheng smiled awkwardly, scratching his neck, and after a long pause, said:
“Delicious… really, delicious!”
Su Pu smiled, sending him a dessert as well.
But Pei Zhicheng still preferred his coffee.
Packing the new orders, Su Pu removed his apron and headed upstairs for delivery.
Li Jichuan was still swamped with work. With the new round of board elections approaching, the rivalry between him and his aunt, Li Shuwen, had clearly entered a white-hot phase.
Without Su Hui’s earlier probing moves to muddy the waters, the standoff between the two sides had only grown more opaque and unpredictable.
Li Jichuan didn’t dare relax for even a moment.
Su Pu knocked and brought in coffee, but lingered, clearly reluctant to leave.
Sensing the heated gaze on him, Li Jichuan quickly wrapped up what he was working on and looked up.
“Xiao Pu, what is it?”
Su Pu met his eyes, his gaze shimmering like water. He hesitated, weighing his words, then shrank back a little.
Left with no response, Li Jichuan filled the silence himself. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. Let’s go to Anderson’s place for a party together, okay?”
Su Pu nodded. Then, thinking that Christmas was just around the corner, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to give an early gift.
He stepped closer, took hold of Li Jichuan’s index finger, and opened his mouth.
“Hm?”
Li Jichuan was confused.
Su Pu pulled his finger straight into his mouth.
A soft tongue wrapped around the pad of his fingertip.
“Xiao Pu, we’re still at the office…”
Li Jichuan’s gaze darkened, his temples throbbing sharply.
It was a sign of being overly stimulated.
The next second, a breathy sound spilled from Su Pu’s lips, something like a faint “mm.”
Then his tongue flattened, and another sound followed—“ah.”
Li Jichuan froze, staring at him in a daze.
“Xiao Pu.”
Su Pu released his finger, then leaned in close to his ear, eyes gentle, voice barely more than air.
“Li…”