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Winter has firmly established itself in the northern part of the city. The cold wind is biting, the sky is always leaden gray, and occasionally a few fine snowflakes fall, melting as soon as they land, turning the ground into a damp and cold dark color.

But in this cold season, two originally distant paths are quietly approaching each other and intertwining with an unspoken understanding and an unstoppable momentum.

Tan Huaiyu's law firm seemed even busier before the Lunar New Year. As the boss, Tan Huaiyu had more and more things to do, but he seemed to have mastered some kind of time management magic, or rather, some kind of powerful motivation driving him.

Every day, unless he has an urgent meeting or clients that he has to deal with personally, he can always magically "disappear" for a while during lunch break and after get off work.

At first, the new employees at the law firm were a little puzzled, until one day, the receptionist was running errands near a factory when she happened to see their lawyer, Tan, who was always dressed in a suit and tie and had a cool expression, standing quietly by a flower bed in front of a factory, carrying an insulated bag and gazing intently inside. When a tall man in dark blue overalls walked out, the warm smile that instantly bloomed on Tan's face made them realize what was going on.

It turns out the boss went to deliver food. No, perhaps he went to "recharge."

Meanwhile, on the other end of the "charging" process, Qi Shuo seemed to have gotten used to this "feeding." The food in the insulated bag still tasted familiar. Sometimes it was simple home-cooked dishes made by Tan Huaiyu himself, and sometimes it was food ordered from a reputable restaurant. But it was always nutritionally balanced and kept at the right temperature.

Qi Shuo stopped saying anything, but would occasionally send a picture of the empty lunchbox after finishing his meal, along with a short "Mmm" or "Delicious".

What surprised the law firm staff and factory workers even more was that, occasionally, this "handsome guy in work clothes" would also "feed them in return."

One night while working overtime, as Tan Huaiyu was rubbing his throbbing temples in front of his computer screen in his office, the receptionist's intercom rang, saying someone was looking for him. Thinking it was a client, he frowned and went out, only to see Qi Shuo standing in the brightly lit lobby of the law firm, carrying a simple cloth bag. He still carried the chill of the outside air, and his eyes showed a slight weariness from a long journey. But the moment he saw Tan Huaiyu, a faint gentleness flashed in his deep eyes.

"I brought you some late-night snacks on my way here." Qi Shuo's voice was calm as he handed him the cloth bag. Inside was a seafood congee, still warm, from a well-known congee shop nearby, accompanied by two light side dishes.

At that moment, Tan Huaiyu felt all the fatigue of the past few days and the frustration brought on by the case files vanish. His eyes were bright, and he didn't care about his boss image. He pulled Qi Shuo to sit down on the sofa in the reception area and insisted that he eat something with him.

In the quiet night, the two shared a bowl of hot porridge and rice, occasionally exchanging a few words in hushed tones; the atmosphere was unusually peaceful.

Since then, Qi Shuo has been delivering late-night snacks or dinners more and more often on his way. His coworkers at the factory have gone from being surprised to taking it for granted, and would occasionally tease him, "Master Qi, are you delivering food to your friend again?" Qi Shuo usually just glances at him, nods, and doesn't say anything, but he doesn't stop walking.

Weekends or rare days off together became unspoken shared time for the two. There were no deliberate dates planned; it was more like natural companionship.

Sometimes, they would go to that familiar old library. Qi Shuo would still look for reference books or casual magazines to browse through, while Tan Huaiyu would be engrossed in thick legal texts or professional journals.

They often sat in their usual spot by the window, where sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows, casting a bright band of light between them. They would sit there for most of the day, rarely speaking, the only sounds being the rustling of pages turning and the occasional soft scratching of a pen on paper.

But simply knowing that the other person is within reach, breathing the same air, immersed in their own world yet sharing the same tranquility, is enough to fill one's heart with a reassuring and comforting warmth.

On slightly nicer afternoons, they would go to the nearby park. They would stroll slowly along the sycamore-lined path covered with fallen leaves, watching the thin ice on the lake and the sparrows that weren't afraid of the cold hopping around in the withered grass.

They still didn't talk much, but the silence was no longer awkward; instead, it was a comfortable companionship. When they got tired, they would sit on a bench for a while and watch the sunset paint the sky orange-red. Qi Shuo's shoulder would occasionally become Tan Huaiyu's unconscious "pillow" when he dozed off, and Qi Shuo would adjust his posture slightly when he leaned in to make him more comfortable.

Perhaps the most obvious change is that the boundaries of that "home" are being gently broken down. Qi Shuo is staying overnight at Yucai Garden more and more often.

At first, it was just a once-a-week visit, which felt somewhat "natural". Later, it gradually became "I got off work early today, so I came over for a visit", then "Let's have dinner here", and then "It's too late, I'll leave tomorrow" became the natural thing to do.

That narrow sofa became Qi Shuo's regular "bed." Tan Huaiyu protested countless times, and even tried to secretly break the sofa in the middle of the night (unsuccessfully), but Qi Shuo was unusually persistent on this matter.

He slept on the sofa, while Tan Huaiyu slept on the bed, a clear distinction drawn by Qi Shuo regarding "gradual progress."

But within those boundaries, there is an increasing sense of everyday life and intimacy.

Qi Shuo can cook, and with the limited kitchen utensils in Tan Huaiyu's small kitchen, he can make simple yet delicious meals.

Tan Huaiyu took on the task of washing dishes and cleaning. In the evenings, they might watch a movie together or do their own things, but they would always chat casually.

Qi Shuo still didn't talk much, but his responses became shorter, and he would occasionally even initiate a topic. Tan Huaiyu, on the other hand, became more and more relaxed. In front of him, he gradually shed the shell of "Lawyer Tan" and became more like the boy who used to like following behind him and sharing all his trivial thoughts.

Sometimes, when Tan Huaiyu returned home late at night after working overtime, he would find the living room light still on, with Qi Shuo leaning against the sofa, holding a book in his hand, seemingly waiting for him.

Hearing the door open, he would look up calmly and say, "You're back," or "There's soup on the stove." At that moment, Tan Huaiyu would feel that this simple, old house, because of this person and this lamp, had become warmer than ever before and...like a home.

As for Qi Shuo, on those nights he stayed overnight, lying on the not-so-comfortable sofa, listening to the faint sound of Tan Huaiyu's steady breathing coming from the next room, the long-standing desolation and coldness in his heart seemed to be gradually moistened and softened by this ordinary, subtle warmth.

He was no longer just there to "see him more and spend more time with him," but also because being in this space imbued with Tan Huaiyu's spirit gave him a strange sense of peace and belonging.

Winter remains cold, and the north wind continues to howl.

But these two originally solitary paths are drawing ever closer in this simple yet steadfast, warm yet unwavering way. They share food, share time, and share the light and air under the same roof.

They drew closer in silence, healed through companionship, and, with the shared expectation of "getting through this," carefully yet authentically incorporated each other into their lives little by little.

Some things, such as trust, dependence, and the feeling called liking, are quietly gathering like water flowing beneath the ice this winter, waiting for the day the ice breaks.

It was another night of working overtime until late at night. When Tan Huaiyu walked out of the office building, it was already past 11 p.m. The cold winter wind lashed at his face like a knife. The streets were deserted, with only a few cars speeding by, kicking up fallen leaves and snow.

He wrapped his coat tighter around himself, hunched his shoulders, and felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him—not just physical, but also mentally drained after dealing with a whole day of thorny cases.

The car he called was still on its way. Standing in the cold night, looking at the scattered lights of the residential buildings in the distance, a corner of his heart suddenly felt empty. The immense emptiness after intense work and the loneliness of facing the cold night alone intertwined, making him feel an indescribable vulnerability.

His phone screen lit up briefly; it was a message from the driver confirming his location. Just as he was about to reply, another message popped up—from the name pinned to the top of his chat list.

Qi Shuo: [You're back?]

There are only three characters, and not even punctuation.

Tan Huaiyu paused for a moment, and almost instantly, the emptiness and loneliness in his heart were washed away by a warm current. He quickly typed: [Just came from the law firm, waiting for a car.]

The reply came quickly: "Okay. Be careful on the road."

The simple words of advice brought an involuntary smile to Tan Huaiyu's face. He could almost picture Qi Shuo sending the message, perhaps leaning back on the sofa, his gaze shifting from the TV or a book, glancing at the time, and then picking up his phone.

The car arrived, and he got in, giving out that familiar address. The night view outside the car window rushed past, but Tan Huaiyu's heart had already flown back to that old, brightly lit house.

The car stopped at the entrance of Yucaiyuan. He paid the fare and quickly walked into the building. The motion-activated lights illuminated each floor in sync with his footsteps. Reaching the third floor, he stood at the door, took out his keys, but did so very quietly.

Insert the key into the lock and turn it gently.

“Clatter.”

The door opened.

A warm, inviting atmosphere, mingled with the subtle aroma of food, wafted through the air. The living room light was on—the soft glow of the floor lamp.

Qi Shuo was indeed leaning on the sofa, an open magazine on his lap, seemingly reading. But when he heard the door open, he looked up and glanced over.

“I’m back,” he said, his voice clear and calm in the quiet night.

"Yes, I'm back." Tan Huaiyu closed the door, took off his coat, which was damp with the chill, and hung it on the hanger. The room was warm, dispelling the cold he felt. He looked at Qi Shuo, his heart filled with a sense of overflowing happiness, and the fatigue of the past few days seemed to lessen considerably.

"There's some soup heating up in the pot, have some before you go to sleep." Qi Shuo put down the magazine, stood up, and walked towards the kitchen. He was wearing the same style of loungewear as Tan Huaiyu, his back straight and his movements brisk.

Tan Huaiyu followed and leaned against the kitchen door frame, watching Qi Shuo turn on the stove and gently stir the bubbling soup in the small pot with a spoon.

It was a simple corn and pork rib soup, with a rich aroma. Under the dim light, Qi Shuo's profile was hard and cold, but the way he looked down at the soup pot carried a quiet tenderness unique to a homebody.

At this moment, this simple kitchen and the man in his pajamas heating soup for him constituted the warmest and most reassuring scene in Tan Huaiyu's world.

"What are you standing there for? Go wash your hands." Qi Shuo didn't even turn his head, giving the order in a flat tone.

"Okay." Tan Huaiyu obediently replied and went to wash her hands.

When he returned after washing his hands, a steaming bowl of soup was already on the table. Qi Shuo served himself a small bowl and sat opposite him.

Neither of them spoke, quietly sipping their soup. The pork ribs were stewed until tender, the corn was sweet, and the soup was warm and delicious, soothing from their throats all the way to their stomachs, as if dispelling the last trace of gloom in Tan Huaiyu's heart caused by the cold and loneliness.

He sipped his soup slowly, occasionally glancing up at Qi Shuo, who was silently drinking his soup across from him.

Qi Shuo sipped his soup with great focus and slow, deliberate movements, as if savoring a delicacy. The warm yellow light cast a small shadow on his thick eyelashes, softening his otherwise austere profile.

As Tan Huaiyu watched, his heart softened completely. He thought, this is the life I want.

It wasn't about luxury or wealth, but about having a light on for him every weary late night, someone warming soup for him, and someone quietly sitting with him for a while.

The bowl of soup was quickly emptied. Qi Shuo put down the bowl and looked at him: "Want some more?"

Tan Huaiyu shook his head, squinting his eyes contentedly: "I'm not drinking anymore, that's enough. It's very delicious."

"Hmm." Qi Shuo stood up and started clearing the dishes.

"I'll wash it!" Tan Huaiyu quickly snatched it away.

Qi Shuo didn't argue with him. He turned around, walked to the sofa, and picked up the magazine again.

Tan Huaiyu quickly washed the dishes in the kitchen, dried them, and put them away. When he came out, Qi Shuo was still sitting on the sofa, but the magazine was closed, and he seemed to be gazing absently at the night outside the window.

Tan Huaiyu walked over and sat down at the other end of the sofa, not too close, not too far. A comfortable silence fell between them once more.

"Are you tired today?" Qi Shuo suddenly asked, his gaze still fixed on the view outside the window.

"Yeah, a bit. There's a rather troublesome case." Tan Huaiyu rubbed his temples.

"Get some rest," Qi Shuo said.

“…Okay.” Tan Huaiyu replied, but did not get up immediately. He cherished this moment of peace and companionship.

After sitting for a while, Qi Shuo closed the magazine, stood up, and said, "It's getting late, let's go to sleep."

"Hmm." Tan Huaiyu then stood up and watched Qi Shuo walk to the sofa, where he skillfully took out a blanket and laid it out.

"Goodnight, Qi Shuo," Tan Huaiyu said softly, standing at the bedroom door.

"Goodnight." Qi Shuo had already lain down and pulled the blanket up. His voice came from the sofa, carrying a hint of weariness.

Tan Huaiyu closed the bedroom door, but didn't get into bed immediately. He leaned against the door, listening to the faint sounds of Qi Shuo adjusting his sleeping position, and a silly, satisfied smile appeared on his lips.

Outside the window, the winter night remained cold and long.

But in this small space, a lamp, a bowl of soup, and a person who was willing to wait for him and leave the light on for him and the soup warmed his heart, made it as warm as spring.