After the heavy snow, the evening was silent and still.
Inside the Dandelion Café, however, warmth enveloped the room.
The gentle chime of the wind bell announced a guest’s arrival.
The young owner behind the counter looked up to see a man at the door.
Dressed in a deep gray cashmere coat, broad-shouldered, upright, with delicate silver-framed glasses perched on his nose—though the lenses were fogged by the warmth inside, giving him a slightly comical appearance.
Su Pu’s lips curved. Without even taking off his apron, he ran through the kitchen toward him, smiling.
Up close, Li Jichuan’s nose was pink from the cold. Su Pu cupped his face, waiting for the fog on the lenses to clear, finally seeing a flicker of reproach in those big, doe-like eyes.
“Not looking good?” Li Jichuan asked, arms at his sides, showing off his outfit.
He had assumed Su Pu would swoon over his polished, gentlemanly aura.
But Su Pu’s voice hadn’t yet recovered fully, and even when annoyed, he couldn’t muster much force.
“No, it’s… warm!” Su Pu’s voice was stiff. Feeling the cold lingering on the coat, he added, half angry, half worried, “You’ll catch a cold!”
Li Jichuan widened his eyes slightly, tilting his head, raising his chin. “We only walked a few dozen meters from the car—how could I catch a cold?”
From Li Jichuan’s perspective, Su Pu’s cheeks puffed up like a stubborn pufferfish.
The pufferfish insisted: “Yes!”
“Okay, yes, definitely yes!”
Li Jichuan quietly thrilled, holding back a smile: “If Xiao Pu says it’s so, then it is. Next time I’ll wear more.”
Hearing this, Su Pu’s anger softened. He reached out, feeling the coarse stubble on Li Jichuan’s face.
Li Jichuan closed his eyes, leaning slightly so Su Pu could touch as much as he wanted.
“Tired?” Su Pu asked.
Li Jichuan pretended not to hear, murmuring, “Hmm?”
“Tired, or not?” Su Pu raised his voice slightly.
“Hmm?” Li Jichuan replied again.
Pouting, Su Pu glanced back nervously—the staff were working methodically, and Pei Zhicheng was absorbed in drawing.
Turning back, he quickly pressed a kiss to Li Jichuan’s lips.
Li Jichuan couldn’t help smiling; his eyes filled with warmth as he finally answered, “Not tired.”
“Now… even less,” he added, smiling. “Dinner later?”
Su Pu nodded enthusiastically.
Behind them, coughs and laughter arose. Staff smiled knowingly, clearly entertained by the couple’s affection.
The young owner’s ears turned red; scowling, he hurried to change in the back room.
Li Jichuan remained at the door, standing tall, eyes meeting everyone’s playful glances without flinching. He tapped his cane lightly, relaxed and unbothered.
Winter darkness fell fast. By the time Li Jichuan entered the café, sunlight still bright; by the time Su Pu finished changing and handling closing duties, the sky was dim and gray.
Streetlights flickered on, the north wind swept snow into dancing patterns in the amber glow.
Su Pu, dressed warmly, generously draped his scarf over Li Jichuan. Hand in hand, they climbed into the black car.
On the way, Li Jichuan couldn’t resist glancing at the small box Su Pu had brought out from the café.
Near the restaurant, he finally asked, clearing his throat, “What’s this?”
Su Pu smiled, glancing down. The box was small, square, tied neatly with a sky-blue ribbon.
“Is it your birthday?” Li Jichuan asked, thinking briefly, then shook his head. “No…”
Not his birthday, then what could be inside?
Before he could ask further, they arrived.
The bistro was new, opened by an experienced barista. Only two patrons were present.
After being seated, the waiter brought out simple, home-style dishes—not particularly fancy.
Li Jichuan tasted a few bites, then quietly commented to Su Pu when the waiter turned away, “The food’s not that impressive… no wonder it’s empty.”
Su Pu smiled awkwardly, saying nothing.
After finishing the meal, dessert arrived. Only then did Li Jichuan realize what had been inside the cherished box.
It was a cake.
Simple—a small square, white cream frosting, decorated with a roughly piped circle of cream, uneven, but the words “Happy Birthday” traced in rose pink.
Su Pu, scratching the back of his neck, shyly explained, “It’s for you… a belated birthday…”
He stammered on, embarrassed, recalling how he had seen Pei Zhicheng meticulously plan a birthday surprise for Ouyang, and felt inspired.
Li Jichuan’s birthday was in January. That year, Su Pu had been at his sickest, so celebrations had been out of the question.
Su Pu had always been indifferent to birthdays. As a child, no one celebrated his. As he grew, classmates’ birthdays never included him—he couldn’t afford gifts.
Yet seeing Pei Zhicheng devote hours to drawing a birthday comic, selecting cards, and writing sincerely, “Thank you for being born,” had moved him.
Su Pu was grateful for Li Jichuan’s existence more than anyone.
So, even six months late, he wanted to celebrate this special day for him.
Twenty-eight years and nine months ago, Li Jichuan was born. Su Pu hadn’t yet arrived in the world, but he was already thankful for that day.
Lighting the candles, Su Pu stammered:
“Thank… you… for being born.”
“Thank you… for loving me.”
“Happy birthday. From now on, every birthday… we’ll celebrate together.”
Li Jichuan was silent, stunned for a long moment. The candle’s flame flickered low, nearly spent, before he finally grasped the obvious wish:
“May happiness… keep falling on this person in front of me!”
After blowing out the candle, Li Jichuan suddenly called the waiter over, whispering a few instructions. The waiter confirmed, and Li Jichuan nodded firmly.
Su Pu didn’t understand at first, patiently waiting until he finished, then handed over the cake knife.
The seemingly ordinary cream cake hid two layers inside—cherry jam and Oreo.
A generous bite revealed a rich yet light texture—the best cake Li Jichuan had ever tasted.
Before finishing, the waiter returned, bringing back the dishes that had just been cleared. The little table was full again.
“You made all this?” Li Jichuan asked.
Truthfully, from the first bite, he had begun to suspect. All doubts were confirmed when Su Pu wished him a happy birthday.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” he muttered, feeling guilty for almost squandering Su Pu’s heartfelt effort in just a few words.
The food wasn’t bad at all; it was his own expectations, heightened by the mysterious venue, that made it feel special.
Li Jichuan took a large bite, savoring it slowly, then smiled and praised:
“Delicious! Xiao Pu, you’re amazing!”
Su Pu didn’t feel disappointed. Li Jichuan had eaten far more than expected.
He only hoped that his words, “Happy Birthday,” weren’t empty—he genuinely wanted the person he cherished to feel the significance of the day and his appreciation for him.
Fortunately, the recipient had a soft heart, understanding without needing many words.
“Xiao Pu, the food’s wonderful, and so’s the cake. I’m really happy with my birthday,” Li Jichuan admitted, soon clearing the table with a satisfied smile.
“Honestly, I haven’t celebrated a birthday in a long time.”