Although Su Pu had been told to pay, when he presented his bank card at the counter, the salesperson informed him,
“Mr. Li always handles the payment himself. You just need to sign here.”
Having planned to make his husband pay dearly, Su Pu clutched the receipt, still dazed, and returned to Li Jichuan.
Cong Shu had already left.
Li Jichuan’s expression was solemn as they walked out of the mall together.
Outside, snow was falling—Yun City’s first snowfall of the year.
Thick, dense flakes quickly blanketed the city in white.
Two people, each lost in their own thoughts, couldn’t help but be captivated by the snow.
“Winter has come…”
Li Jichuan murmured.
Suddenly, Su Pu crouched down, and when he stood again, a round snowball rested in his palm.
“Hey—don’t!” Li Jichuan laughed, warning him.
Before he could react, the plump snowball landed on his shoulder.
Su Pu laughed silently, eyes curved in delight.
“You!” Li Jichuan scolded, bending down to form another snowball. “Just wait!”
Sensing danger, Su Pu quickly crouched and formed a new one.
They stood, facing each other with snowballs in hand, and burst into laughter.
“I declare a ceasefire…” Li Jichuan surrendered.
Su Pu, still clutching his snowball, looked unsatisfied.
“Give me your snowball…” Li Jichuan extended a hand.
Obediently, Su Pu handed it over. Li Jichuan stacked the two snowballs, forming a chubby little snowman.
“That’s better!” he said.
Su Pu stared at the plump snowman, grinning foolishly.
“Xiao Pu, did we go to the same high school?”
Li Jichuan suppressed his smile, asking seriously.
Su Pu stopped laughing, nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Li Jichuan leaned down, leaving the snowman in the snow, rolling his wheelchair closer to Su Pu.
“You knew me back then, didn’t you?”
But you had long forgotten me, Su Pu answered silently.
The memories so precious to him might have been trivial to Li Jichuan—why force him to recall them?
“Su Pu?”
No response. Li Jichuan’s thoughts grew chaotic.
It was like finding a vital puzzle piece… yet also like a trapped beast, struggling in place with no progress.
Su Pu frowned suddenly, paused, and sneezed—a tiny “ah-choo”—revealing he had caught a cold.
The sudden cold marked the start of flu season.
Su Pu ran a high fever, curled up in bed, tissues everywhere.
Worried, Li Jichuan had been working from home for three consecutive days.
Without him, Su Pu couldn’t rest properly. Li Jichuan moved his workstation to the bed just to let Su Pu sleep more comfortably.
Su Hui, temporarily assigned a task, came to deliver a document.
Though it wasn’t originally his responsibility, he had maneuvered things so that the secretary who was supposed to come was assigned elsewhere, leaving him to do it.
Su Hui slipped on slippers, holding the file, sneaking glances at Li Jichuan’s home.
Everything was orderly, restrained, and minimalist—he couldn’t understand how Su Pu lived with someone like this.
The housekeeper directed him: “Mr. Li is in the study. Knock and hand him the document.”
Su Hui waved impatiently, signaling he understood, and strode in.
He wanted to see Li Jichuan’s usual state—if it was the same as at the company, then perhaps Su Pu and he shared little real affection.
Perhaps he only put on a show of love in front of his father and others.
Honestly… could anyone really love Su Pu?
Reaching the study door, he saw Li Jichuan bent over work and was about to knock.
Suddenly, the adjacent door swung open. Su Pu, flushed and unsteady, drifted past him and into the study.
Ugh…
Su Hui’s awkwardness flared again. Everyone knew Li Jichuan became especially sensitive when focused on work.
Disturbing him without knocking could result in piercing cold eyes and sharp words.
Su Pu wobbled to Li Jichuan’s desk, disregarding everything, and looped his arms around his neck.
Su Hui felt a cold sweat.
He’d heard Su Pu was sick—but was he planning to “divorce” him by hugging him like this once better?
Why rush into danger?
Yet…
The expected storm never came.
Li Jichuan seemed completely unbothered, even enjoying it.
Hmm?
Su Pu closed the door behind him, leaving just a crack.
Su Hui peeked through it.
Su Pu looped his arms around Li Jichuan’s neck; Li Jichuan lowered his work and placed him on his lap.
Su Pu’s eyes half-closed, and finally, he relaxed and fully shut them.
Because of his cold, his breathing was heavy, filling Su Hui’s ears.
Was Li Jichuan mad?
Why allow such closeness with a sick person? Not afraid of catching it and affecting work? He was usually so efficiency-driven.
Su Hui pressed closer, half his face against the door gap, watching desperately.
He wanted proof—any proof—that they didn’t truly love each other.
He didn’t understand why he cared so much, why he felt so unwilling…
Next moment, his pupils froze.
Li Jichuan, who had been looking down at Su Pu, suddenly looked up—meeting Su Hui’s gaze through the gap.
Su Hui’s hair stood on end. The intensity in Li Jichuan’s eyes was terrifying.
Like a beast guarding its hard-won prey.
Su Hui: “…”
Hesitating, he considered whether to leave or knock, to greet Li Jichuan formally.
Then Li Jichuan gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile toward him.
Hmm?
Before he could react, Li Jichuan looked down again, slowly lowering his head.
His lips landed on Su Pu’s forehead—a protective kiss.
Su Hui’s throat went dry. He tried to look away but couldn’t.
Li Jichuan continued downward, kissing Su Pu’s eyes, nose…
Their lips were just inches apart. Su Hui couldn’t tell if they were actually kissing.
Thump thump—
Outside, someone pounded on the door, panicking.
For some reason, he wanted to shatter the moment inside.
But the two inside didn’t notice. One continued downward; the other, with chin held, tilted his head upward.
This time, the contact could not be denied.
Su Hui’s mind reeled, stumbling back half a step.