Wait a minute

After that day, some things seemed unchanged, while others were definitely different.

What remains unchanged is the daily routine.

Qi Shuo remained by the factory assembly line, accompanied by the roaring machines. Tan Huaiyu's law firm was busily preparing for the final stages of the case; he was still incredibly busy, his meal delivery orders never ceasing, only the insulated bags he received from the delivery drivers seemed heavier than usual—

Sometimes it's an extra box of cut fruit, sometimes it's a small jar of honey that's supposedly good for the throat. On the accompanying note, below "Eat well," there's occasionally a line of handwritten notes: "It's cold, put on an extra layer" or "The oranges are sweet, remember to eat them."

The handwriting was somewhat hasty, but Qi Shuo could recognize it.

Qi Shuo's replies remained brief, but the frequency of "um" and "okay" seemed slightly higher than before. Occasionally, during breaks from late-night overtime or when awakened by nightmares in the early morning, Tan Huaiyu would receive a belated, equally brief message: [Arrived.] or [Go to sleep early.]

Without further words, it was like a faint but certain light in the darkness, allowing Tan Huaiyu's anxious heart to settle down for a moment.

What has changed is a tacit understanding and a growing closer.

Winter arrives swiftly and fiercely in the northern part of the city. After a few northerly winds, the temperature plummets, the sky is always overcast, and the air is dry and biting. It's another weekend, and Qi Shuo is off work.

He didn't go to the factory dormitory, nor did he return to Sister Jin's house. Instead, as if by some strange twist of fate, he boarded the bus heading towards Yucaiyuan.

This time, he sent a message in advance: [Are you home?]

Tan Huaiyu replied almost instantly: [Yes! At home!] followed by a puppy wagging its tail emoji.

Qi Shuo looked at that expression, his lips twitched almost imperceptibly, and he put away his phone.

He arrived. He knocked on the door. This time the door opened quickly, and Tan Huaiyu stood behind it, neatly dressed, his hair clean, his pajamas impeccably put on, even his socks were on properly, but his eyes were surprisingly bright, and his cheeks were flushed with anticipation and the warmth of the room.

"Qi Shuo, come in quickly, it's cold outside." He stepped aside, his voice filled with undisguised excitement.

Qi Shuo walked into the house, bringing with him the chill of the outside air. The house was warm and cozy, with Tan Huaiyu's pleasant and clean scent.

Several documents were spread out on the coffee table, and his laptop was lit up, indicating that he had just been working.

"Have you eaten?" Tan Huaiyu asked, her tone filled with cautious concern.

"Not yet." Qi Shuo took off his coat, and Tan Huaiyu immediately took it and hung it up.

"Then, what do you want to eat? I can order takeout, or... I can cook? But we don't have much food left at home..." Tan Huaiyu was a little nervous.

"Whatever, I'll buy some groceries tomorrow and stock up at home." Qi Shuo sat down on the sofa, his gaze sweeping over the documents on the coffee table. "You go ahead and get busy."

"No rush, no rush, almost done." Tan Huaiyu quickly shook his head, picked up his phone, and said, "Then... shall we order from that home-style restaurant you thought was alright last time? Or should we go somewhere else?"

"Anything is fine."

Finally, they ordered from the same restaurant as last time. While waiting for the delivery, Tan Huaiyu quickly packed up his documents, shut down his computer, and then sat somewhat helplessly at the other end of the sofa, more than a meter away from him.

He wanted to find a topic to talk about, but was afraid of saying the wrong thing, so he could only steal glances at Qi Shuo out of the corner of his eye. Qi Shuo leaned back on the sofa, his eyes closed, looking somewhat tired, his brows slightly furrowed.

The room was very warm, and a thin layer of condensation had formed on the windows. The sky outside was overcast, as if it were about to snow.

The takeout arrived quickly: four dishes and a soup, simple but steaming hot. The two ate in silence, the occasional soft clinking of chopsticks against the plates. Qi Shuo ate very little, seemingly with a poor appetite.

"Is it not to your liking?" Tan Huaiyu couldn't help but ask.

"No." Qi Shuo shook his head, put down his chopsticks, and said, "It's cold, I don't want to eat."

Tan Huaiyu looked at his jawline, which appeared even thinner than before, and his heart tightened. Factory work was tough, especially in winter. He wanted to say something, but felt that anything he said would be inadequate.

After finishing his meal, Qi Shuo showed no sign of leaving immediately. He walked to the window and looked at the gloomy sky outside. Tan Huaiyu finished clearing away the dishes and quietly walked over and stood a short distance away from him.

"It's going to snow," Qi Shuo suddenly said.

"Yes, the weather forecast says it will snow tonight," Tan Huaiyu replied softly.

Another silence fell. But this silence was no longer filled with awkwardness and caution; instead, a strange, peaceful tension flowed between them.

They stood side by side by the window, looking at the same gray sky outside, listening to the faint sound of water circulating in the radiator.

"Why are your hands so cold?" Qi Shuo suddenly turned his head and looked at Tan Huaiyu's hands hanging by his side.

Those fingers were distinctly knuckled, fair and slender, but now they were unnaturally pale, with the fingertips even turning slightly bluish.

Tan Huaiyu paused for a moment, instinctively trying to hide his hands behind his back: "N-nothing, I've always had a bit of..."

Before he could finish speaking, his hand was grasped by another warm, dry hand.

Qi Shuo's movements were natural, just like when he buttoned up his shirt and pulled down his sleeve that day, carrying an unquestionable and self-evident meaning.

He grasped Tan Huaiyu's icy fingers, cupped them in his palm, rubbed them gently, and then wrapped his warm palm around the icy hand.

Tan Huaiyu froze completely. The warmth from Qi Shuo's fingertips, like a faint electric current, instantly coursed through his entire body.

The temperature wasn't scorching, but it carried a solid and reliable power, gradually dispelling the chill from his fingertips, and seemingly melting the ice in a corner of his heart.

He felt his heart pounding wildly, blood rushing to his head, and his ears burning hot.

He wanted to pull his hand away, but he was also reluctant to leave the warmth. He froze there, not daring to move, and even held his breath.

Qi Shuo didn't say anything, but just lowered his eyes and focused on slowly rubbing Tan Huaiyu's cold fingers, as if he were doing something very ordinary.

His palms, calloused from years of labor, rubbed against Tan Huaiyu's delicate skin, creating a strange and unsettling sensation.

The sky outside the window grew darker, with leaden clouds pressing down low. The room was quiet, save for the soft, intermittent breathing of the two people and the subtle rustling of their hands against each other.

Time seemed to stretch out for a long time, yet it also felt like only a fleeting moment had passed.

Qi Shuo only released Tan Huaiyu's hand when Tan Huaiyu's fingers gradually regained warmth and were no longer so icy cold. His movements remained natural, as if he had simply completed a simple task of warming up.

"Wear something warmer." He said these three words, turned around, walked back to the sofa, sat down, picked up the remote, and turned on the TV. The sound of the news program instantly filled the room.

Tan Huaiyu remained standing there, looking down at the hand that had just been shaken.

The warmth of Qi Shuo's palm and the rough texture of his calluses still lingered on his fingertips. That warmth spread from his fingertips all the way to his heart, making his whole heart feel tingly and numb, as if he were soaking in a hot spring or floating on a cloud.

This wasn't holding hands. At least, not in that sense.

There were no interlocking fingers, no deep gazes, not even a single extra glance.

This is just one person warming another's cold hands in the winter.

But Tan Huaiyu knew this was different. It was different from when Qi Shuo held his hand and led him around as a child, and it was different from when Qi Shuo touched his forehead to check his temperature when he was sick.

In this simple touch, there is a tacit understanding and closeness that transcends that invisible barrier.

Qi Shuo stopped running away. He was trying, getting closer, and fulfilling that promise in his own way.

Tan Huaiyu's heart was filled with a huge, bittersweet feeling. He slowly walked to the other side of the sofa and sat down, not too far from Qi Shuo, just an arm's length away. He didn't look at Qi Shuo anymore and turned his gaze to the television screen, though he didn't absorb anything.

News reports are issuing warnings about the approaching cold wave, reminding citizens to take precautions against the cold.

Outside, the cold wind howled. Inside, the heating was on, the television was playing, and the two sat at opposite ends of the sofa, a short distance apart, yet it seemed as if an invisible, warm bridge was being quietly built between them.

Winter is very cold.

But it doesn't seem so hard to get through anymore.

As night deepened, the wind outside the window grew increasingly fierce, swirling a few scattered snowflakes that pelted the glass with a soft, rustling sound. The snow the weather forecast had predicted had finally arrived, albeit sparingly and hesitantly at first.

The television was playing a dull late-night drama, the volume turned down so low it became a muffled background noise in the room.

Qi Shuo leaned back on the sofa, his elbows resting on the armrests, his palms supporting his forehead, his eyes closed as if he were asleep, but a trace of lingering fatigue remained between his brows.

Several consecutive night shifts, coupled with the increasingly cold weather, etched this fatigue even deeper into his bones.

Tan Huaiyu sat at the other end of the sofa, a thick compilation of case studies spread out on his lap, but he didn't turn a single page.

His attention was entirely focused on the person resting with his eyes closed not far away. He could see the faint blue shadows under Qi Shuo's eyes, his slightly pursed and somewhat dry lips, and the lines of his shoulders that were unconsciously tense even in his sleep.

The heating in the room was on full blast, but Qi Shuo always seemed to carry a chill that came from outside and couldn't be dispelled.

Tan Huaiyu recalled the undeniable warmth of his palms when he warmed her hands earlier, and a certain part of her heart felt as if it had been gently scratched by a feather, both itchy and painful.

He gently put down the book, his movements so careful they made no sound. Then, slowly, like a small animal approaching a predator's den, both eager and timid, he moved little by little toward Qi Shuo. The distance was silently shrinking.

Until his shoulder almost touched Qi Shuo's arm.

He could smell the familiar scent emanating from Qi Shuo, a blend of faint tobacco and clean soap, now mixed with the biting chill of the wind and snow outside. This scent reassured him and also made his heart race.

Qi Shuo seemed to move slightly, but did not open his eyes.

Tan Huaiyu took a deep breath, as if using all the courage he had, and gently, tentatively, tilted his body a little more towards Qi Shuo. Then, he stretched out his arm, slowly and stiffly, and carefully wrapped it around Qi Shuo's waist from the side.

It was an extremely restrained, even somewhat clumsy, hug.

It wasn't tightened, just loosely gathered, as if afraid of disturbing him, or perhaps simply wanting to confirm his presence and warmth. Tan Huaiyu's cheek, through the thin sweater, gently pressed against Qi Shuo's shoulder.

He could feel Qi Shuo's body stiffen instantly, and hear a clearly audible, disrupted heartbeat in his chest.

Tan Huaiyu's heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to explode, and his ears were ringing with the rush of blood. He closed his eyes, his eyelashes trembling slightly with tension. He was waiting, waiting for Qi Shuo to either push him away or give him an even colder silence.

However, the expected rejection did not materialize.

After a few suffocating seconds of silence, Qi Shuo slowly lowered the hand that had been supporting his forehead.

Then, it lifted up, not landing on Tan Huaiyu's arm around his waist, nor pushing him away, but slowly, with a heavy weight, landing on the back of Tan Huaiyu's head, gently rubbing his still slightly damp hair.

The gesture carried a slightly awkward yet comforting tone.

Immediately, Qi Shuo's body relaxed and leaned slightly closer to Tan Huaiyu, almost imperceptibly. It wasn't a gesture of compliance, but rather a tacit agreement, a silent acceptance.

His eyes were still closed, but the tired wrinkles between his brows seemed to have been smoothed out a little by this quiet embrace.

Tan Huaiyu's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled down, and he was immediately overwhelmed by a huge mix of bitterness and sweetness that almost drowned him.

His nose tingled, and his eyes instantly welled up with tears. But he held back, refusing to cry. Instead, he buried his face deeper into Qi Shuo's shoulder, and finally dared to use a little real strength in his arms, pulling the silent, wintery embrace even tighter.

The embrace was quiet, without any extra words or movements. It was simply two people, feeling cold and tired in the cold night, instinctively drawing closer to each other, drawing a little bit of warmth from one another.

After an unknown amount of time, just when Tan Huaiyu thought Qi Shuo was about to fall asleep, or that the embrace would end silently, he heard Qi Shuo's deep, calm voice above him. Because it was close to his chest, it vibrated slightly, directly hitting his eardrums and heart.

"Tan Huaiyu".

"Hmm?" Tan Huaiyu responded vaguely, not daring to move.

“I’m not stalling for time,” Qi Shuo’s voice was soft but clear, each word sounding like it had been carefully considered. “And I’m not saying I want to be with you just for fun or to try it out.”

Tan Huaiyu's body stiffened, and he held his breath.

Qi Shuo paused, seemingly considering his words, or perhaps stating to himself: "I am not someone who can compromise. I wasn't in the past, I'm not now, and I won't be in the future."

He felt the slight trembling of the body in his arms, paused for a moment in the hair at the back of Tan Huaiyu's head, and then continued to stroke it gently in that slow, soothing rhythm.

"What I want, what I long for..." His voice lowered, carrying a rare, almost sighing honesty, and a quiet determination.

"I'm willing to wait a little longer."

Wait a minute.

It's not a rejection, nor is it a perfunctory response. It's an acknowledgment of the existence of "wanting" and "yearning".

It is a solemn return of the right to choose and the time to "winter" as a buffer, and also to each other.

He was waiting. Waiting for Tan Huaiyu to stop panicking and feeling insecure over a hug or a handshake.

Once he truly sorts out the emotions he has for "Tan Huaiyu" that span seventeen years and are mixed with too many complicated past experiences, he will find out how to put them to rest.

When their relationship is no longer one of chasing and escaping, of giving and begging, but one of truly looking at each other equally and clearly.

Wait until you stop dodging.

I'll wait until I'm sure enough.

When you truly belong to me.

And I am truly ready to belong to you.

Qi Shuo didn't say these words aloud. But Tan Huaiyu understood. The deep affection conveyed in those words, the weighty promise and expectation behind the "wait a moment," pierced through the cold of the winter night and the long-standing unease in his heart like a warm and solid light.

Tears finally broke free and silently soaked the fabric of Qi Shuo's sweater on his shoulder.

But this time, it was no longer a desperate cry, but a catharsis under the impact of some huge emotion, and a kind of almost pious emotion after being treated with solemnity.

He hugged Qi Shuo even tighter, using all his strength to feel the reality and warmth of the embrace, as if responding silently with his actions.

I'll wait for you. No matter how long it takes, I'll wait.

The snow outside the window seemed to be falling heavier, pattering softly onto the windowsill. Inside, the heater hummed, and the light from the television screen flickered on and off.

On this cold winter night, two wounded souls found temporary refuge in a simple and quiet embrace, and saw the warm current called "possibility" slowly surging beneath the ice.

Winter is still long.

Winter is almost over.