The few rays of warm sunlight that remained during the day were torn away without a trace by the biting north wind as dusk fell.
The street lights lit up one after another, the dim light swaying in the cold wind, barely illuminating the hurried passers-by, but unable to dispel the biting cold.
Sun Guixiang hunched her back, holding the worn cloth bag tightly, and every step she took was extremely difficult.
In the cloth pocket, besides the stack of change that was slightly damp with sweat, there was also the hospital bill that was as hot as a branding iron.
That afternoon's experience at Chen Ji Noodle House felt like an unreal dream. That bowl of steaming hot vegetarian noodles, that plate of crisp pickled radish strips, and especially that hundred-yuan bill that had been slipped into her purse without anyone noticing...
This silent, scorching warmth pierced her heart like a needle, leaving her feeling both grateful and sad. She knew she owed him a huge favor, but was unable to repay it.
The cold wind seeped into the gaps in her worn cotton jacket, causing her to cough violently.
Every cough caused a knife-like pain deep in her chest, forcing her to stop and hold on to the cold wall to catch her breath, with fine beads of cold sweat oozing from her forehead.
My vision was darkening and my stomach was empty. The warmth brought by the bowl of noodles in the afternoon had long been consumed.
She needed to find a place to sit down and rest, and then find a way to get something to eat, otherwise she was afraid she wouldn't be able to make it home.
She looked around blankly, at the unfamiliar streets with flashing neon lights, but she could not find a trace of familiarity or warmth.
Finally, her eyes fell on a brightly lit cafe on the corner of the street that was decorated in a simple yet stylish way.
Warm yellow light streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing comfortable sofas and scattered figures. Outside the window, beneath the eaves, lay a small, dry staircase.
"Let's do it here." Dragging her leaden legs, Sun Guixiang moved to the steps, carefully holding onto the wall, and slowly sat down. The cold stone steps pierced through the thin fabric of her pants, causing her to shiver.
She held the cloth bag tightly in her arms, as if it was her only support, curled up her body, trying to conserve a little bit of her pitiful heat.
Fatigue weighed down like a heavy mountain, and my eyelids were so heavy that they almost closed.
Just then, the heavy glass door of the cafe was pushed open, bringing out a gust of warm wind and the rich aroma of coffee.
A figure walked out.
He looks very youthful, with a tall and slender figure. He is wearing a well-cut dark gray cashmere coat and a neatly ironed pure white turtleneck sweater underneath.
His short, neatly styled black hair and a pair of delicate, thin-rimmed silver glasses perched on his nose. Behind the lenses, his eyes were an extremely rare gray-blue. Like a glacial lake shrouded in mist on a winter morning, they were clear, detached, and carried a calmness and coldness that transcended his years.
In his left hand he carried a dark leather briefcase and in his right a packaged hot drink.
It was Ye Qingliu. He had just finished a video conference with a family representative overseas and came out to get some fresh air and bring a hot drink to the driver waiting in his car.
Ye Qingliu pushed the door open and walked out, and the fresh air instantly enveloped him.
He subconsciously frowned slightly, and his eyes casually swept across the street scene, but in the next moment, they accurately fell on the figure curled up on the steps in the corner under the eaves of the cafe.
A hunched back, a dark blue old cotton-padded jacket that was washed white and patched, sparse gray hair, a tattered cloth bag tightly held in the arms... and a face full of deep wrinkles, full of fatigue and pain under the dim light.
She seemed extremely tired, her body trembling slightly, her head drooping weakly, and every breath seemed extremely difficult and heavy.
Ye Qingliu paused.
The pair of gray-blue eyes looked calmly at the old man in the corner through the lenses.
There was no pity, no curiosity, and not even the slightest displeasure at being disturbed. It was an almost icy scrutiny, like a sophisticated instrument scanning and analyzing an anomalous data point that suddenly entered its field of view.
However, under this cold scrutiny, Ye Qingliu clearly caught the old man's fingertips trembling slightly due to the cold and pain.
He captured the unnatural rise and fall of her chest with every labored breath, and the unconcealable weakness on the verge of breaking point beneath her tightly closed eyelids.
His eyes lingered on the bulging cloth bag she was holding tightly for a moment, then shifted away.
The air seemed to freeze for a few seconds, with only the whimpering sound of the cold wind blowing through the street.
Ye Qingliu's expression did not change at all. He just walked towards the old man curled up in the corner very naturally, as if he had just changed his original direction.
His footsteps were light, almost silent on the cold tiles. It wasn't until his slender figure enveloped the small space on the steps that Sun Guixiang slowly realized someone was approaching.
She raised her head in panic, her cloudy eyes filled with confusion and a hint of instinctive vigilance.
But when she saw clearly that the person standing in front of her was a young man with a cold and noble temperament, as if he had walked out of a painting, she shrank her body awkwardly and subconsciously hugged the cloth bag in her arms tighter.
"Little friend..." Sun Guixiang's voice was hoarse and dry, with a thick accent, and she was a little overwhelmed. "...Is there something wrong?"
She used this name subconsciously. Although the boy in front of her had a cold temperament and an upright figure, in her weathered eyes, he was just a half-grown child after all.
Ye Qingliu didn't answer immediately. He lowered his eyes slightly, his gray-blue gaze falling on the old man's lips, which had turned slightly blue from the cold, and his trembling fingers.
He silently and naturally raised his right hand and handed the cup of freshly packaged drink in his hand, which was still emitting hot steam, to Sun Guixiang.
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