Get through it

The days glided forward at a leisurely pace, like ripples slowly spreading across a calm lake, circle after circle, seemingly repetitive, yet beneath which surging, unknown undercurrents flowed.

Inside the factory, the roar of the machines was still deafening. Qi Shuo stood beside the assembly line, his movements mechanical and precise, but those who knew him well, such as the workshop director who occasionally came to inspect, would notice that this usually taciturn and meticulous Master Qi seemed to have become even more silent lately.

During work breaks, he would often take a water cup, lean against the window of the workshop, gaze at the rows of buildings in the distance, his eyes vacant, lost in thought.

Occasionally, he would unconsciously touch his wrist or collar, the movement so quick it was hard to catch, before quickly returning to his calm and collected demeanor.

That sudden, intense hug at the law firm entrance that day was like a brief but intense dream. When I woke up, all that remained was the aftereffect of a rapid heartbeat and an even more indescribable vacuum.

Qi Shuo subconsciously chose to avoid it, using deeper silence to isolate himself from that moment of loss of control and all the chaotic emotions represented by the embrace.

At the law firm, Tan Huaiyu was as busy as a spinning top. With the new firm about to open, there were countless things to manage: clients, case files, procedures, team management... He needed to handle every single one of them personally.

He remained the same calm, professional, and highly efficient Attorney Tan, unyielding at the negotiating table and adept at navigating piles of documents. However, a fleeting, almost imperceptible hint of fatigue and…distraction would occasionally flash across his eyes.

His phone was placed in the most convenient spot on his desk, and the screen often lit up, but that particular chat window was eerily quiet.

His messages often took a long time to elicit a brief reply. The warmth and strength of that hug seemed to linger in the memory of his skin, occasionally resurfacing uncontrollably when he was working late at night, bringing a pang of heart palpitations, which was then replaced by deeper confusion and a hint of hidden loss.

Qi Shuo was avoiding him. This realization was clear and unambiguous. Was it because that hug had crossed a line? Or was it something else? Tan Huaiyu couldn't figure it out, nor did he dare to ask rashly.

He could only devote more energy to his work, filling the void created by waiting and uncertainty with endless busyness.

On Sister Jin's side, the atmosphere was much more lively. Qingran had become the darling of the office. With several teachers taking turns watching over and accompanying her, she was safe and sound, and her little face was full of smiles.

As expected, Shen Ci kept his promise. When he didn't have classes, he would often come to the office to sit for a while. Sometimes he would bring homework, sometimes he would ask questions, and more often he would "casually" check on Qing Ran's progress with her puzzle, or bring her a small box of washed strawberries and a few pieces of cutely packaged candy.

Qingran was always happiest when she saw him, calling him "Brother Chen" this and "Brother Chen" that, chattering on and on.

Shen Ci was always incredibly patient, helping her with puzzles, reading picture books to her, and correcting her occasional unclear pronunciation. The two, one big and one small, got along extremely naturally and harmoniously. Even Sister Jin, who was initially a little wary, gradually lowered her guard as she saw Shen Ci's pure and patient kindness towards Qing Ran.

Qin Zhou and Song Yungui often come back on weekends, filling the house with the laughter of young people. Xiao Jue and Lin Ye also occasionally come over for meals, making the house even more lively.

However, everyone tacitly avoids mentioning "Chen Ci" or "Teacher Shen" in front of Qi Shuo. Occasionally, if Qing Ran accidentally lets it slip, Sister Jin or Qin Zhou will quickly change the subject.

Qi Shuo seemed oblivious to this, or rather, deliberately ignored it. Every time he came home, he spent most of his time with Qing Ran, watching TV with her, or sitting quietly to the side, listening to her talk with Sister Jin and Qin Zhou, while he rarely spoke.

Beneath the seemingly calm surface of daily life, different ripples are spreading and intertwining.

It was the weekend, and Qi Shuo was off work. He went to the hospital in the morning to accompany Qing Ran for her routine check-up. The results were good; the doctor smiled and said that Qing Ran's recovery was better than expected, and the strength in her legs was steadily increasing.

Qi Shuo listened with a blank expression, but his taut shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly.

After leaving the hospital, he intended to go straight back to his factory dormitory, but hesitated at the bus stop. Going back to that empty dormitory didn't seem like a good idea.

He took out his phone, swiped his finger across the screen, and finally stopped at a location – Yucaiyuan.

When I left last time, it seems I... forgot to bring that work jacket back.

He told himself that.

So he changed direction and boarded another bus.

The car swayed and bumped its way through most of the city before stopping at the entrance of that familiar old residential area. Qi Shuo stood in front of the rusty iron gate and looked up at the window on the third floor. The window was closed, the curtains were drawn, and it was impossible to tell whether anyone was there.

He took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The hallway was still dimly lit, and the air smelled of stale dust. He walked to the door, raised his hand, hesitated for a moment, and finally knocked.

It was quiet inside; there was no response.

I knocked twice more, but still no one answered.

Was he not home? Or was he working overtime at the law firm? Qi Shuo took out his phone, opened WeChat, and hovered his finger over Tan Huaiyu's profile picture. Should he send a message to ask where he was, or call him directly?

He ultimately did nothing and put his phone away. Since she wasn't there, he'd talk to her another time. His coat… he wasn't in a hurry to put it on.

He turned around, ready to leave.

Just as he turned around, the door behind him suddenly clicked open from the inside.

Qi Shuo turned around.

The door opened a crack, and Tan Huaiyu stood behind it, still enveloped in lingering heat and moisture.

He seemed to have just come out of the bathroom; his hair was wet and stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck, with water still dripping from the ends. Water droplets rolled down his fair neck and disappeared into the depths of his loose collar.

He simply threw on a beige cotton pajamas T-shirt with a wide neckline, revealing his clearly defined collarbone and a glistening chest. The fabric was slightly see-through from the water droplets that hadn't been dried, clinging to his body and vaguely outlining the contours of his chest and abdomen.

The hem of the T-shirt only reached mid-thigh, and below... it seemed she was only wearing shorts, with two straight and slender legs exposed to the slightly cool air, and a pair of slippers casually draped over her feet, her toes slightly curled up because of the early winter chill.

He clearly hadn't expected Qi Shuo to be outside the door. His amber eyes were still misty with confusion from the hot water, but the moment he saw Qi Shuo, the mist quickly dissipated, replaced by clear surprise, followed by undisguised joy tinged with panic and guilt.

"Qi Shuo? What brings you here? I... I was just taking a shower and didn't hear the knocking..."

His voice sounded softer than usual due to the moisture, with a slight hoarseness.

Qi Shuo's gaze seemed to be burned by something, sliding from his wet hair, over the dripping ends, across his bare, glistening skin, and finally landing on his collar, which was slightly open and looser from hurriedly opening the door.

A surge of heat rushed to his head without warning, his heart skipped a beat, and then a mixture of amazement, anxiety, and even a hint of indescribable annoyance gripped his heart.

He opened the door like that? His hair wasn't dry, his clothes… dressed like that, he dared to open the door? What if it wasn't him, but someone else? A delivery person? A thug? Or… someone with ill intentions? Would he stand there so defenselessly, wet, almost transparent, in front of them?

This thought made Qi Shuo's breathing become heavier, and his jawline unconsciously tightened.

He almost immediately looked away from Tan Huaiyu, but his fingers hanging by his side suddenly curled up, his nails digging deep into his palms, bringing a sharp pain, barely managing to suppress the surging, inexplicable anger in his heart.

"I've come to get my clothes," he said, his voice colder and harder than he had expected, even a little hoarse without him realizing it. He had found a perfect, unquestionable reason for his actions.

Tan Huaiyu flinched at the coldness in his tone, her surprise and panic froze, leaving only confusion and helplessness.

He subconsciously looked down at himself, only then belatedly realizing how inappropriate his appearance was. His ears instantly turned bright red, and he frantically tried to pull down his oversized collar, but only made it look worse. "I-I'm sorry...I'll be right there...the clothes are on the balcony, they should be dry by now..." he stammered, stepping aside. "You, you come in first."

Qi Shuo didn't move, but just stood at the door, looking at him with a deep gaze: "Go dry your hair and put on some clothes."

The tone was an unquestionable command.

Tan Huaiyu nodded immediately, and almost simultaneously turned and rushed into the room. Soon, a flurry of rustling sounds came from inside, as if someone was frantically searching for towels and clothes.

Qi Shuo then stepped into the still simple but lively little house filled with the atmosphere of Tan Huaiyu's life.

The air was still filled with the faint, refreshing scent of shower gel, mixed with his familiar, sun-dried grassy smell.

Qi Shuo walked to the old sofa and sat down, his back straight. His gaze fell on the bookshelf on the opposite wall, but he had no focus. The spot on his palm where he had pinched himself was still throbbing.

After a while, Tan Huaiyu came out of the bathroom. Her hair was haphazardly dried with a towel, no longer dripping, but still sticking wetly to her scalp and neck, making her hair color appear darker and her skin appear even whiter.

He changed into a gray long-sleeved and long-legged home outfit, dressed neatly with the top button fastened all the way up, and even the sleeves pulled down to cover his wrists. He was completely covered up, with only his cheeks and ears still showing the blush from the hot water and embarrassment.

He went to the balcony, took the dry, neatly folded jacket from the clothes rack, walked back, and handed it to Qi Shuo with both hands, his voice low and cautiously ingratiating: "Here...the clothes. I...I washed them clean."

Qi Shuo took the jacket; the fabric was soft and smelled of sunshine and detergent. He didn't look at Tan Huaiyu, just grunted in response, and casually placed the T-shirt beside him.

The atmosphere became somewhat tense for a moment. Only the clock on the wall ticked monotonously.

Tan Huaiyu stood by the sofa, at a loss. He could feel the oppressive aura emanating from Qi Shuo, and that cold and distant presence made him uneasy.

He didn't know why Qi Shuo was angry. Was it because he opened the door too slowly? Or because of his disheveled appearance just now?

Neither of them made him feel waves of panic. He had finally felt a subtle easing in his relationship with Qi Shuo. The sudden hug, though confusing, also gave him a huge, unrealistic hope.

He cannot, he cannot let everything go back to square one, or even worse.

"Do you... want some water? I'll get you some." He tried to break the silence, his voice hoarse.

"No need." Qi Shuo still didn't look at him.

Tan Huaiyu panicked even more. He twisted his fingers, his fingertips icy cold. The silence felt like an invisible boulder, pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. Qi Shuo's indifference hurt him more than any rebuke.

Time ticked by, each second feeling like a slow, agonizing death. Qi Shuo didn't say anything more, seemingly only intending to pick up a piece of clothing and leave.

Just as Qi Shuo picked up his T-shirt and prepared to leave, Tan Huaiyu finally couldn't hold back any longer. He suddenly reached out and grabbed Qi Shuo's wrist. His fingertips were icy cold and trembling slightly.

Qi Shuo paused, then finally looked up at him.

Tan Huaiyu's eyes were already red, and her amber eyes were filled with moisture, as if she was about to shed tears at any moment.

He looked at Qi Shuo, his voice choked with sobs, his words incoherent, like a small animal driven to the brink of despair, only able to cry out in vain: "Qi Shuo... are you... are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong again? Tell me, I'll change, I promise I'll change... please don't ignore me, okay?"

His tears finally rolled down his pale cheeks and dripped onto their clasped wrists, burning hot.

"I know I was bad before, I was wrong, I really know I was wrong... I will be good from now on, I won't make you angry anymore, I won't say things that make you unhappy, I won't do things that you don't like... Please don't hate me, please don't leave me..."

He repeated it over and over, his voice growing softer and more broken, filled only with desperate pleas and humble entreaties.

He was terrified, extremely terrified.

Fearing that Qi Shuo might turn around and leave again, just like before, leaving no room for reconciliation.

I fear that this fragile connection, which has been so painstakingly rebuilt, will be easily severed once again.

Qi Shuo quietly watched him, watching Tan Huaiyu, who was calm and composed in front of outsiders but always easily broke down in front of him.

Looking at his red eyes and the tears that kept rolling down his cheeks, listening to his incoherent and humble pleas to stay.

The inexplicable anger in my heart was gradually extinguished by these scalding tears, leaving only a cold and bitter weariness, and... a deeper sense of powerlessness.

He pulled his wrist away from Tan Huaiyu's cold, trembling hand, not by shaking it off, but with a slow, irresistible force.

Then, he gently wiped away Tan Huaiyu's tears with his fingertips. The movement was not gentle, and even a little clumsy, but very careful.

"Tan Huaiyu," he began, his voice low but clear and calm, piercing through his tears, "what am I to you?"

Tan Huaiyu's crying abruptly stopped. He raised his teary eyes and looked at Qi Shuo blankly, seemingly not understanding the meaning of the question.

Qi Shuo looked at him and continued to ask, his voice as calm as if he were discussing the weather: "Or rather, what do you think our relationship is?"

This question struck Tan Huaiyu like a thunderbolt, shattering his chaotic thoughts and leaving him frozen in place. Who was it? What was their relationship?

Brother? No, he no longer dared to address him so presumptuously.

An enemy? No, he would rather die than be his enemy again.

A creditor? Perhaps, what he owes him is something he can never repay in this lifetime.

A phantom that he tried his best to get close to, but was forever separated by an invisible barrier, a phantom that was always within reach but could never be attained.

Countless names and definitions swirled in his mind, but none could accurately describe the complex and almost painful emotions in his heart.

In the end, all hesitation, timidity, and forbearance crumbled under Qi Shuo's calm yet profound gaze.

“Yes…” Tan Huaiyu’s lips trembled, his voice as soft as a breeze, yet it took all his courage, “It’s the person I like.”

After saying this, he seemed to have all his strength drained away. His face was as pale as paper, yet he also carried a sense of relief after making a desperate gamble, along with a deeper fear.

He lowered his head, not daring to look at Qi Shuo's expression, awaiting the anticipated, even more violent storm, or the judgment that would utterly condemn him to hell.

However, the expected outburst of anger, mockery, or cold rejection did not materialize.

Time seemed to stand still. Only the sound of their intertwined breaths could be clearly heard in the quiet room.

After a long while, Qi Shuo finally let out a soft sigh. The sigh was very light, but it felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, landing on Tan Huaiyu's heart.

He reached out, not to wipe away tears, but to gently rub Tan Huaiyu's wet eyes with his fingertips, wiping away the remaining tear stains. The movement carried a hint of awkwardness, a gentleness that even he himself was unaware of.

Then, he heard Qi Shuo speak slowly in his distinctive, deep, and calm voice:

"Tan Huaiyu, winter is here."

Tan Huaiyu opened his eyes blankly, not understanding why he suddenly said this.

Qi Shuo looked at him with a complex gaze, as if he could see beyond his tear-filled eyes and into a distant place, or as if he had made up his mind.

“If we can make it through this winter,” he paused, speaking each word slowly and clearly, as if making a solemn promise, or drawing a clear line.

"I promise you, I will start to seriously consider the future and will no longer avoid any questions about you."

After he finished speaking, the room fell silent once again.

Tan Huaiyu's pupils suddenly contracted, as if he didn't understand, or as if he understood but couldn't believe it.

He stared blankly at Qi Shuo, at his calm and expressionless face, and at his eyes that were as deep as the night sea.

Will we survive the winter? Will we consider the future? Will we stop running away?

Every word is like a pebble thrown into a lake of the heart, stirring up towering waves.

What does this mean? Is it a response? A buffer? Or a faint but real hope?

Qi Shuo didn't explain further. After he finished speaking, he withdrew his hand, picked up the T-shirt from the sofa, and stood up.

"Dry your hair thoroughly, don't catch a cold." He said this, then turned around, opened the door, and walked out, no longer looking at the turbulent expression on Tan Huaiyu's face.

The door closed gently, leaving the person who had just experienced an emotional tsunami alone in the quiet room.

Tan Huaiyu stood there for a long, long time. Until his legs went numb, until icy tears streamed down his face again without him noticing, he slowly, very slowly raised his hand and covered his face.

Suppressed, broken sobs spilled from between his fingers, but this time, it wasn't all despair.

Winter is coming.

He said, "Just hang in there."