(Mu Xinrong's rental house)
On the evening of the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month, the tiled walls of the kitchen were reflected with warm yellow light, like amber soaked in honey.
When Chao Youye tiptoed to get a bowl from the wall cabinet, the cuff of her school uniform slipped down, revealing the same silver bracelet on her wrist as Mu Xinrong - they bought it together during the school anniversary last year, and the chain was engraved with the initials of their respective names.
"Be careful with your head." Mu Xinrong reached out to protect the back of his head, his fingertips brushing against the ends of his soft hair. The carrots on the chopping board were cut into neat diamond-shaped pieces, and the shredded potatoes next to them were soaked in water, a fresh, milky white.
The arc of his wrist when he was cutting vegetables was very similar to the concentration he was concentrating on when doing a chemistry experiment in the laboratory. There was still a little bit of apple peel on the handle of the knife.
Chao Youye poured the washed rice into the rice cooker, then suddenly remembered something and took out her phone from her pocket: "I bought some strawberry jam at the school gate today. Should I add some to the glutinous rice balls when I cook them later?"
When the screen lit up, the lock screen was a photo of the two of them in the library last year. Mu Xinrong was wearing a blue and white school uniform. The collar of his uniform was tilted towards Youye, but he was smiling happily.
"Okay." Mu Xinrong turned around and turned on the gas stove. The blue flames licked the bottom of the pot. "Last time you said the sweet and sour pork ribs in the cafeteria were too sweet. Today I'll make you a non-greasy version."
As he spoke, the apron string swayed. He reached out to Youye to help him tie it tightly. His fingertips accidentally touched the lower back, causing a chuckle.
The range hood hummed, and Chao Youye suddenly pointed at the phone screen and laughed: "Listen, this is the recording of you dozing off during morning self-study yesterday."
Mu Xinrong's light snoring could be heard from the phone, mixed with the birdsong outside the window and the suppressed laughter of the students in the front row.
Mu Xinrong's ears turned red, and she reached out to grab the phone, but accidentally knocked over the seasoning jar, and white pepper spilled on Chao Youye's apron like small snowflakes.
"Idiot." Chao Youye smiled and patted off the pepper, but when she turned around, Mu Xinrong drew a horizontal line on her face with his flour-soaked finger.
The two of them played around for a while until the oil in the wok started to smoke, then they hurried back to their respective seats. As Chao Youye was sprinkling chopped green onions into the wok, Mu Xinrong suddenly leaned close to his ear and said, "Actually, I secretly brought some potato chips. You can eat them in between cooking."
By ten o'clock in the evening, the snow had piled up to half an inch thick. Chao Youye walked forward, following Mu Xinrong's footprints, each step fitting neatly into the previous one, like playing a jigsaw puzzle.
The boy's scarf was knitted by Mu Xinrong himself. The milky white wool was mixed with light purple stripes. The white breath he exhaled when he spoke hit the scarf and condensed into tiny ice crystals.
"How did you solve the last question in the last weekly math test?" Mu Xinrong kicked the snowball at his feet, and the snow grains splashed on Chao Youye's canvas shoes.
The convenience store in the distance was lit with warm yellow lights, and the oden in the window was steaming. When the two passed by, the mist on the glass blurred each other's reflections.
Chao Youye reached out to catch a snowflake, watching it melt into water droplets in his palm: "I used the formula that Teacher Lin taught me, but I guess you must have used a simpler method."
As he spoke, a snowflake fell on his eyelashes. Mu Xinrong raised her hand to brush it away for him. When her fingertips touched his skin, it felt cool, like a mint candy soaked in snow water.
There were people in the square in twos and threes. There were elderly people in down jackets making snowmen with their grandchildren, and a few high school students having a snowball fight. Chao Youye suddenly bent down, rolled a snowball, and when Mu Xinrong wasn't paying attention, she threw it at his back.
The moment the snowball exploded, the boy's laughter startled the sparrows on the tree. Amid the sound of flapping wings, Mu Xinrong chased after them, and the two of them left crooked footprints on the snow.
When the first firework exploded, Chao Youye was leaning on Mu Xinrong's shoulder and counting stars.
The residents nearby seemed to hear the noise outside, opened the windows, looked at the fireworks outside, and took out their mobile phones to record this beautiful moment.
The children playing with firecrackers in the square put down their firecrackers and screamed with excitement. Passersby could not help but stop to watch, their faces filled with surprise and joy.
As the purple sparks splashed, Chao Youye suddenly remembered the flame color reaction he had learned in physics class. Magnesium was dazzling white when burning, and copper was green, just like the light in the sky at this moment, which was a carnival of different metal elements.
"Chao Youye, let's make a wish." Mu Xinrong's voice was partially covered by the roar of fireworks, but it fell clearly into Chao Youye's ears.
The young men stood side by side under the streetlight, their shadows stretched out and overlapping. When Mu Xinrong clasped his hands together, Chao Youye saw the bracelet on his wrist flash in the firelight, like a shooting star across the night sky.
Mu Xinrong clasped his hands together devoutly, closed his eyes, and made a sincere wish from the bottom of his heart.
[“May my loved ones be safe and sound every year…”]
[“I want to grow old with him…”]
Chao Youye didn't close his eyes. He looked at the shadow cast by Mu Xinrong's eyelashes and the corners of his mouth that were slightly pursed. Suddenly, he remembered a sentence he had read in a bookstore last month: "Love is like a wasteland on a midsummer night, which can never be cut or burned. When the wind blows, the weeds cover the sky."
At this moment, the light of the fireworks fell into his eyes, as if lighting this sentence and burning it into stardust all over the sky.
"What wish did you make?" When he turned to Chao Youye, a snowflake fell on his lips. Mu Xinrong reached out to wipe it off for him, but when his fingertips lingered, he gently pinched his face.
"If I tell you, your wish won't come true." Mu Xinrong smiled and took a half step back. The newly fallen snowflakes landed on the ends of his hair, like a handful of broken diamonds.
The sound of midnight came from the distance, and another batch of fireworks soared into the sky, illuminating Chao Youye's face that suddenly approached.
"Tell me secretly, the gods won't know."
The boy's eyes were reflecting colorful lights, and the snowflakes on his eyelashes just fell on his lower eyelid, like a crystal teardrop mole.
“I won’t tell you…”
They may spend many New Years together, only to realize in the end that this is the only chance to tell each other their wishes, and it is the only time in their lives.
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