Chapter 18 What you still have to face is...

During the day, snow weighs down the treetops by the lake. When the sun shines on them, they look like light silver leaves shimmering in the light. The lake is covered with a thin layer of ice, and the water at the edges is crystal clear.

Zhou Yue, wearing a woolen hat, patiently demonstrated the casting motion behind her, pointing his finger to the position of the float and explaining in a low voice how to tell if a fish has taken the bait.

When Xia Zhiyao picked up the fishing rod for the first time, she tried casting it several times following his demonstration, but either she cast it off course or the line fell with a thud at her feet. She was never able to get the hook to land steadily in the water.

The wind rippled across the lake, and the strands of hair on her forehead were blown into disarray, obscuring half of her eyes.

After watching her fiddle with it for a while, Zhou Yue finally couldn't help but laugh out loud: "I thought you were omnipotent, but it turns out there are things you're not good at too?"

Xia Zhiyao raised her eyes and gave him a cold look: "Everyone has a first time. If you laugh again, I'll throw you into the water."

Zhou Yue raised an eyebrow, deliberately said "Oh," and gently twirled the fishing rod between his fingers, his voice clearly teasing: "That's not necessarily true, I did pretty well the first time."

Xia Zhiyao ignored him, pursed her lips and continued casting the rod. Her posture was still awkward, but it was a little more stable than before.

Zhou Yue stood behind her and reached out to adjust the angle of her wrist: "Pull it back a little more... Yes, like that, don't rush."

A breeze blew from the lake, carrying the chill of a light snowfall, but her fingertips were slightly warm from gripping the fishing rod tightly.

Suddenly, the float sank slightly.

"There's movement," Zhou Yue warned.

Xia Zhiyao instinctively lifted the rod, and the fishing line suddenly tightened. A silver light rippled on the surface of the water. She was stunned for half a second before realizing that she had actually caught a fish. She clumsily reeled the fish in and brought it ashore.

It was a crucian carp about half the length of a palm. She held the fishing line, her eyes filled with barely suppressed surprise, and turned to look at Zhou Yue.

Zhou Yue stared at the fish for a few seconds, then looked at her, his eyes crinkling with laughter: "You're a natural talent."

"I was just lucky." She said it casually, but a hint of a smile crept into her eyes.

Zhou Yue didn't expose him, but simply put the fish into the bucket, his tone as relaxed as if he were announcing something: "Then let's continue, catch a few more, and grill fish tonight."

Xia Zhiyao casually asked, "Do you like fishing?"

Zhou Yue cast his fishing rod back out, his gaze following the float as it landed on the water's surface. His voice was calm: "Sometimes, I feel it's nice to just relax here for a while."

Xia Zhiyao said "Oh," tilted her head to look at him, and smiled: "You won't become one of those fishermen who never come home when you get old, will you?"

Zhou Yue didn't respond immediately, but turned his head to look at her, his eyes seeming to hide something. After a while, he smiled and didn't refute.

She thought he was just amused, unaware that a quiet joy was welling up inside Zhou Yue. The reason she asked that question was because she subconsciously thought about the future and home, and in that scene, both the future and home included him.

The following evening, they went to the town's small bar. In the corner at the far end of the bar, there was a two-person table by the window, with a wooden wall behind it, decorated with old wine barrels and several yellowed old photos of vineyards.

Xia Zhiyao ordered a low-alcohol sweet red wine, but Zhou Yue insisted on ordering a dry oak wine, explaining in a serious tone: "You've drunk with my dad and his family before, right? He said you have a particularly high alcohol tolerance, and he was a little tipsy from all the toasts you gave him that time. I have to see just how much you can drink today."

Xia Zhiyao raised an eyebrow, her tone amused: "Are you sure? Don't just collapse on the table after drinking half a glass."

"How could that be?" Zhou Yue said with certainty. "Whoever lies on the table today is a dog."

“It has to be you,” she replied calmly.

He raised his glass, one to the left and one to the right, his expression serious: "To be fair, everyone who toasts the other must return the toast."

Xia Zhiyao was so bothered by him that she had no choice but to drink a few glasses with him. Her expression remained unchanged, but the color of her lips was stained even darker by the wine.

Zhou Yue, on the other hand, had his face gradually flush red, his eyes began to dart around, and his voice was no longer sharp, but soft and slightly tipsy. He leaned back against the sofa cushions, his long legs stretched out, as if he was too lazy to even sit properly.

"Aren't you going to have too much?" she asked softly, a hint of a smile in her voice.

"No." He blinked, shook his head, then nodded seriously, as if afraid she wouldn't believe him. "I'm... a little happy."

Zhou Yue was already dizzy and nestled next to her, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and his eyes moist, but his fingers stubbornly held her hand.

"You know what..." He suddenly leaned close to her ear, his breath carrying the sweet, tangy scent of red wine, his voice extremely low, as if he were about to tell a huge secret, "I've liked you since I was little."

"When did it start..." Zhou Yue frowned slightly, his expression serious as if he were searching for some distant old time.

Xia Zhiyao suppressed a laugh and turned her head to look at him: "You're asking me?"

"No, no, listen to me..." Zhou Yue waved his hand, his tone as serious as if he were making an oath, "Oh right, it started when you taught me to write when I was little. Back then I wrote with my left hand, and all the characters were backwards. You held my hand and wrote each character one by one."

His eyes were hazy, yet they held an unguarded sincerity that made her suddenly realize that his words were not just drunken ramblings.

“Back then, I couldn’t write well at all, and you would scold me, saying that I couldn’t even write properly, so why should I go to school?” He imitated her tone very well, even mimicking her words from back then.

"At the time, I thought to myself, 'You're so fierce!' But you were being fierce to me while you were teaching me. I thought to myself, 'I wish you could be this fierce every day.'"

Xia Zhiyao chuckled: "So you've had masochistic tendencies since you were little?"

"How could that be? Even if I were, I'd be an S, okay?" Zhou Yue insisted, his eyes sincere. "Back then, you had short hair, were tall and thin, and looked like a boy in your school uniform. You were also incredibly strong. Do you remember that time in junior high when I got into a basketball fight, and you rushed over and kicked that guy?"

"I didn't kick you, did I?" Xia Zhiyao raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"You kicked me first, then grabbed your backpack—holy crap, you had a thick dictionary in it, sis," Zhou Yue laughed, her eyes shining as if the lamplight and alcohol had ignited memories. "I still remember you smashing things while yelling, 'Who dares to bully my little brother?'"

He paused, his voice slowing down, as if he were pulling something from his heart: "Back then, I felt that if I could marry you when I grew up, it would definitely be because I had accumulated good karma in my past life."

Xia Zhiyao didn't respond immediately. She just lowered her head and gently swirled her glass, trying to hide an emotion she shouldn't let him see—perhaps a flutter of the heart, or perhaps a subtle panic.

After a while, she put down her glass, patted Zhou Yue's face, her fingers carrying the chill of the winter night. When they touched his cheeks, which were flushed from the alcohol, Zhou Yue tilted his head and stared straight at her.

"Then why do you like me?" she asked. This time, there was no teasing in her tone, and her eyes did not dodge or flinch.

Zhou Yue paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on her face for several seconds, as if realizing for the first time that she would care about this issue.

"Why do I like you..." he repeated softly, as if he was preparing an answer. His gaze remained fixed on you. He slowly opened his mouth and said in a serious tone, "You look like the female lead in Resident Evil. Seriously, when I was a child, I felt that you had that kind of aura that could fight your way out of the apocalypse."

"..." Xia Zhiyao couldn't help but chuckle. Then she took out her phone, opened the front camera, and looked closely at her face. "How does it look like me?"

Zhou Yue was already quite drunk. His hoodie was tossed aside, leaving him wearing only a short-sleeved T-shirt. His arms and shoulders glowed under the light, his cheeks were flushed, but his eyes shone like two lamps.

He suddenly stood up, swaying slightly. Xia Zhiyao quickly steadied him, raised her glass high, and shouted to the entire tavern:

Hey! Everybody listen up!

His voice, tinged with drunkenness, instantly drowned out the music in the background. People around him were startled at first, then turned to look at him.

This is my girlfriend. She's the one I've loved since I was six years old!

As he spoke, he pointed unabashedly at Xia Zhiyao sitting next to him, his eyes filled with pride as if he were announcing that he had won the lottery, or as if he was afraid that others would not believe him, his voice growing louder and louder.

"I fucking waited for her for years! I chased her, dreamed of her, missed her so badly it hurt. And now she's here, right here, and I still can't believe it!"

The last sentence was almost shouted out, as if to pour out all the desires and grievances hidden in his heart in one breath.

There was a moment of silence in the tavern, as if everyone was confirming what they had heard. Then, a burst of laughter and applause suddenly erupted from all around.

"Wooooo!"

"Lucky guy!"

"Kiss her, man!"

Some people clapped loudly, some whistled, and others raised their glasses to wave at them. Laughter and cheers mingled with the warm yellow lights and the aroma of wine, pushing the atmosphere to its peak.

Enveloped by the cheers, Zhou Yue's cheeks flushed even redder, his eyes shining as if they were about to burst with light. He stood there, smiling like a triumphant young man.

Xia Zhiyao paused for a few seconds before reaching out to tug at his sleeve and whispering, "Are you crazy?"

When her fingers touched his burning hot arm, it felt like she was being scalded. She wasn't sure if she was struck by his words or burned by his undisguised love.

"Really, I promise, I swear." He leaned drunkenly on her shoulder, his eyes somewhat glazed, yet he stared intently at her, as if afraid she would disappear in the blink of an eye, muttering, "The first time I ever masturbated... I was thinking about you."

Xia Zhiyao: "..."

She reached out to cover his mouth while trying not to laugh, her voice low and irritating: "Are you really drunk, or are you just faking it and acting crazy? You only know how to say things in Chinese?"

"I'm just afraid foreigners will understand..." Zhou Yue chuckled vaguely, his voice thick and tinged with grievance, "It's too embarrassing."

Xia Zhiyao rolled her eyes at him: "You think I won't feel embarrassed just because I speak Chinese?"

Zhou Yue didn't argue, but just moved closer, rubbing his shoulder against hers, and smiled like a dog that had made a mistake and was trying to please her: "You don't... you actually like hearing that."

As he spoke, his breath carried the sweet, slightly bitter scent of red wine, gently brushing against her ear and making it feel warm. She didn't respond, but instead gently pushed his forehead away without actually pushing him off.

"That's why I said you have to take responsibility for me." Zhou Yue, slightly drunk, clung to her, his eyes shining, but his tone was extremely serious, as if he were talking about something of life and death. "Think about it, someone starts having a physical reaction to you from puberty, how devoted do you have to be?"

Xia Zhiyao was both amused and exasperated: "Are you really drunk? How come you're talking so logically? Are you pretending to be drunk and telling the truth?"

Zhou Yue tilted his head, leaning closer, his voice low, carrying an undisguised vulnerability and stubbornness: "I'm not drunk... Please don't dislike me, you know that..."

He paused for a moment, as if gathering all his courage, before finally saying, "I'm actually... really afraid that you won't want me."

Xia Zhiyao was slightly taken aback and turned to look at him. Zhou Yue's gaze, however, had already wandered away, landing on the shimmering reflection of a wine glass under the dim yellow light not far away. He seemed to be weighed down by some emotion, making his breathing somewhat unsteady.

"The day you don't want me anymore..." His voice lowered, each word uttered with gritted teeth and seriousness, "I'll set up a tent downstairs at your company and live there, so all your colleagues will know you dumped me."

As he said this, his eyes still held a hint of drunkenness in them, but behind that smile lay a clumsy panic that he didn't want her to see.

Xia Zhiyao was amused by the absurd yet pitiful scene. Suddenly, she reached out and cupped his face in her hands. His familiar face was flushed with a soft red from the alcohol, and his eyes were glistening with tears. She suddenly felt a pang of heartache, and also a little...reluctant to let him go.

She was slightly tipsy herself, so she casually opened a bottle of sparkling water, took off the tab, and tried to put it on his little finger, but it only got stuck on the first knuckle. She couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Your hands are too rough."

"What are you doing?" Zhou Yue looked down at the small metal ring, his eyes filled with confusion and a hint of curiosity.

"Have you ever heard a song called 'Cola Ring'?" she asked softly.

Before he could answer, she began to hum, her voice soft and gentle in the night: "You turned ordinary days into anniversaries, eternity into future history, boys into princes... I don't need your explanations, I don't need your vows, I just want you to remember this moment, how I look in your eyes."

Her voice, carrying a low laugh and a slightly tipsy softness, instantly seeped into my bones. Each word felt like it had been touched by fingertips, light enough to tickle, yet lingering in my heart for a long time.

The firelight and lamplight mingled as he stared into her eyes. Suddenly, he reached out and pulled her close, kissing her fiercely with a drunken breath. His hot breath seemed to melt away her reason. Between their lips, he chuckled softly, "This is the decree. You are mine, and there's no going back."

Xia Zhiyao didn't speak, but just looked at him quietly, a smile that hadn't faded from her lips, her fingers gently tracing the warmth of his cheek.

The wind and snow outside had not stopped. The lights outside the bar window reflected the falling snow. Inside, the fireplace crackled, and red wine rippled in the glass. His gaze remained fixed on her face, as if he had not yet recovered from that gentle kiss.

At that moment, he was truly intoxicated, intoxicated by her singing and by her gentle and patient gaze.

She helped him back to the cabin, the snow crunching softly under their feet. He carried the warmth of the alcohol, yet felt heavy in the cold wind, clinging to her side the whole way, as if he would only move forward if he were carrying her.

As soon as she entered the house, the warmth hit her face, and the air still carried the smell of firewood that hadn't been completely extinguished the night before. She supported him with one hand and used the other to untie his scarf and take off his coat.

Zhou Yue was helped to sit down on the edge of the bed, his eyes hazy, a lingering smile on his lips. As she bent down to untie his shoelaces, he suddenly called out softly, "Xia Zhiyao."

"Um?"

"You're so beautiful." His voice was muffled, but it was the truth that came from the bottom of his heart. After saying that, he fell back into the blankets, pulling her over as he did so, his arms tightly encircling her waist, his forehead pressed against her shoulder, his breath warm and lingering.

"Don't go," he muttered, then repeated, "Don't go."

He held her a little tight and she didn't move for a moment. After a few seconds, she gently raised her hand and patted his back. Soon, his breathing gradually calmed down, and sleepiness completely pulled him away.

Xia Zhiyao lay quietly for a long time, using the faint light reflected from the snowy night outside the window to look at his sleeping face, which still held a smile, as if he didn't want to let her go even in his dreams.

She gently removed his arm, and after he turned over and fell asleep, she got up, put on a coat, went to the living room, and turned on a dim wall lamp.

Her phone hadn't rung, but she still instinctively picked it up and glanced at WeChat. Zheng Xiaotian's message, which had stopped halfway through her drink, read: [Xia Zhiyao, where did you go?]

[He said he'd come to my place if he quit his job, but he quit and then disappeared?]

She stared at the line of text for a long time, her tone relaxed, yet she couldn't hide the questioning between acquaintances. He knew she never ran away without a reason, but this time, it was as if she had vanished into thin air.

She replied casually:

I'm in New York. I haven't had a break in a long time, so I came back to visit.

The reply came almost instantly:

Don't say I didn't warn you, Zhang Luyuan even called me, and I said I didn't know.

[You two broke up a long time ago, why is he still going on and on?]

She didn't expect that Zhang Luyuan had always been like this—outwardly restrained, but secretly spying on her whereabouts, as if she owed him an explanation. But she understood that the end of a relationship wasn't about being in the wrong, but about utter exhaustion.

She glanced at Zheng Xiaotian's first message again and suddenly wanted to laugh. Everyone was still living in the way she knew: news feeds, progress bars, phone calls, emails...

She, nestled in a wooden cabin deep in the snow-capped mountains, with a drunken little boy in her arms, no longer had the strength to go back.

The screen lit up again: [Zhiyao, you still have to face what you have to face, you know that.]