Chapter 39
Outside the window, there were continuous sounds of firecrackers, and the air was filled with the unique smell of sulfur from gunpowder and the lingering fragrance of the New Year's Eve dinner.
Even the sprawling courtyards couldn't dampen the Spring Festival's excitement. Red lanterns swayed beneath the eaves, illuminating the fresh, carved window grilles. The day's bustle finally drew to a close.
I dragged my tired but satisfied body back to my courtyard.
She hadn't had time to change out of the bright red cheongsam embroidered with golden peonies. The luxurious silk satin exuded a gentle luster under the warm yellow light, and the intricate gold embroidery rose and fell slightly with her breathing, like a living flower.
The delicate makeup on her face had not yet been removed. Her eyebrows were like distant mountains, her lips were painted with cinnabar, and her long hair was loosely tied up with a hairpin inlaid with jade. She was completely different from the girl in uniform and with a cold expression on the Hyotei campus.
Just as I sat down at the dressing table, about to undo the hairpin, my phone started buzzing. The name that popped up on the screen was Atobe Keigo.
I raised my eyebrows slightly and pressed the answer button for the video call.
The screen lit up, and the first thing that caught my eye was Keigo Atobe's face, which was still impeccably handsome under the warm light.
He seemed to have just taken a shower, his hair was damp and casually draped over his forehead. He was wearing a dark purple velvet robe with a slightly open collar, revealing his well-defined collarbone. He looked less fierce than usual and more lazy at home.
However, when his gaze passed through the screen and fell on me, a hint of surprise clearly flashed across his eyes, and then was replaced by strong, undisguised admiration.
It was as if the pause button was pressed, and he stared at me on the screen without saying a word for three full seconds.
"Ahem," he finally found his voice, and the corners of his lips curled up into a curve with a hint of teasing and understanding. His gorgeous low voice came through the receiver, with a hint of imperceptible joy.
"It seems I called at just the right time." His gaze lingered on my gorgeous cheongsam and delicate makeup, seemingly tangible. "You didn't let me miss this rare sight."
His teasing made my cheeks heat up slightly.
But since he saw her, she simply stood up confidently and turned slightly towards the camera, letting the gorgeous hem of her skirt swirl like a blooming red lotus, and the golden peony shone brightly under the light.
"How is it? The master's efforts in having it custom-made were not in vain, right?" I raised my chin slightly, feeling a little proud.
The astonishment in Atobe's eyes became even stronger, and his Adam's apple moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something praising.
However, a large golden, furry head suddenly forced its way into the camera, occupying most of the screen.
"Woof woof! Woo-woof woof!" Xiao Kong shouted excitedly at the screen, his wet black nose almost touching the camera lens, and his tail wagging like a propeller.
Atobe chuckled helplessly, reached out and took the restless big ball of fur into his arms, and skillfully rubbed its furry neck with his slender fingers.
He lowered his head, his chin almost touching Xiaokong's head, but his eyes were still looking at me through the screen. With an almost doting smile that he himself hadn't noticed, he said to Xiaokong in a coaxing tone:
"Did you see that? Mommy is so beautiful today."
He deliberately lowered the tone of the word "Mom", with a hint of teasing, but it slipped out of his mouth very naturally, like a stone thrown into the lake of my heart, instantly stirring up circles of warm ripples in my heart.
My cheeks suddenly felt completely burning, and the heat spread all the way to my ears.
"What nonsense!" I said in a panic, my heart beating uncontrollably fast, "I, I'm going to wash up!" Without waiting for him to say anything else, I pressed the hang-up button almost in a panic.
The screen went dark in an instant, reflecting my flushed cheeks and slightly rapid breathing.
The room still seemed to linger with the echo of his smiling "Mom, you're so beautiful," and Xiaokong's excited cry. I leaned against the dressing table, my fingertips unconsciously tracing the cool, silky satin and the raised gold embroidery of my cheongsam. It took a while for the inexplicable palpitations to subside.
Remove makeup, take a shower, and change into a comfortable velvet robe.
With a warm face mask on, I sank into the soft, spacious bed. A single dim wall lamp lit the large bedroom, and the TV played the lively and boisterous Spring Festival Gala, filled with singing, dancing, and laughter.
However, the noise in the room seemed to be separated by a layer of frosted glass, and it could not dispel the huge feeling of emptiness that suddenly surged up in my heart after the extreme bustle.
My master is old and has long since retired to the courtyard next door. It feels like I'm the only one left in this huge house.
The day's clinking of glasses, the caring exhortations of elders, the lively conversation of older brothers, now all became distant background noise. An indescribable sense of loneliness was infinitely magnified in the atmosphere of the New Year.
As if possessed by some mysterious force, I picked up the phone beside my pillow, clicked on the familiar profile picture, and typed a line of words on the screen:
【What are you doing? 】
send.
Almost the next second, the phone screen lit up.
[Atobe Keigo]: Just finished wiping Sora's paws. He stole my pudding and is now facing the wall to reflect on his mistakes. How about you? Did you enjoy the Spring Festival Gala?
Looking at the words on the screen, imagining Xiaokong's pitiful face facing the corner, and his "strict father" tone, I couldn't help but curl the corners of my lips. My empty heart seemed to be gently filled with something.
[It's okay, just for fun.] I replied.
[Atobe Keigo]: It’s very lively over there, right?
[Yeah, the sound of firecrackers never stopped.] I paused, my fingertips sliding across the screen. [Here we are, celebrating the New Year with family, staying up all night, eating dumplings, putting up Spring Festival couplets, and giving lucky money to children...]
[Atobe Keigo]: New Year’s money?
[Me]: Well, putting money in red envelopes is for good luck and to ward off evil spirits.
Atobe Keigo: Interesting. Did you get it?
[Me]: Of course. Although I am not young anymore, my elders still give me money.
…
Just like that, across the cold screen and long distance, we began to chat casually.
I talked about the customs and interesting stories of the Spring Festival in China, and he shared some trivia about Hyotei, interesting stories about the tennis club training, and the trivial gossip at school. The topic naturally turned to Xiaokong.
[Atobe Keigo]: It seems to have gained weight recently. The scale doesn't lie.
Me: ...I knew it! I told you not to spoil it too much!
[Atobe Keigo]: It's unfair. It doesn't get enough exercise, it just eats and sleeps.
【Me】: You are the one who fed me!
Atobe Keigo: ...
As we chatted, words seemed unable to contain the urge to get closer. The phone screen lit up again, this time with an incoming call.
I answered the call, and immediately I heard the voice of Atobe with a helpless smile, and in the background there seemed to be the sound of Xiaokong humming and acting coquettishly.
"As soon as I mentioned it, it came over and licked my phone." Atobe's voice was indulgent. "This guy has become more and more clingy recently. He follows me everywhere I go. He even insists on sleeping under my desk at night."
"Then you better be careful," I warned, unable to suppress a laugh. "Don't let it use your study as a playground. Last time, it carried the photos President Sato gave me all over the place."
A deeper, resigned sigh came from the other end of the line: "It's already been a commotion."
"Yesterday, while I wasn't paying attention, he took a very important acquisition proposal I had just printed out and nibbled two corners of it into the doghouse."
“Pfft—” I can almost imagine the scene, “And then?”
"And then?" Atobe snorted coldly, but there was no real anger in his tone. "I caught it red-handed, dragged it up and gave it a good 'lecture'. I also ordered the head maid to give it a bath as 'punishment'."
"How is a bath a punishment?" I laughed. "It loves playing in the water the most."
"The key is the education process!" Atobe emphasized, then added helplessly, "But... after taking a bath, it slept in my bed all afternoon, smelling delicious."
Listening to his seemingly complaining but actually doting "accusation", the emptiness in my heart was unconsciously replaced by a warm, sour and soft emotion. But I couldn't help complaining:
"Atobe Keigo, you are...too cunning!"
"Hmm?" He raised his voice at the end, questioningly.
"You just pamper it, feed it good food, play with it, and even if it gets into trouble, you just give it a 'education' and a bath."
I complained, my tone filled with a coquettishness I didn't even notice. "I'm the bad guy! When you spoil it until it runs wild, I'll have to set rules for it with a stern face! What if it only likes you and doesn't like me anymore?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.
Then, Atobe's low and joyful laughter came clearly, and there was an indescribable satisfaction in that laughter.
"No." His voice, with a gentle certainty, penetrated the airwaves, clearly falling into the silent bedroom and into my heart. "You will always be its favorite person."
On TV, the host of the Spring Festival Gala was blessing the New Year in an enthusiastic tone.
I held the slightly warm phone in my hand, listening to his steady breathing and Xiaokong's vague humming on the other end of the line, my cheek pressed against the soft pillow, and the empty place in my heart seemed to be quietly and fully filled with a warm and down-to-earth emotion.
The warm yellow light in the bedroom casts a soft glow on the plain white gauze curtains hanging over the bed. The pear blossoms embroidered on the curtains cast delicate and hazy hollow shadows under the light, like fallen snow resting beside the bed.
"It's late. It's almost midnight over there, right?" I said to Atobe, who was also leaning against the headboard in his pajamas on the screen. My voice was slightly hoarse from staying up late, but it was also soft. "Go get some rest."
Atobe shook his head slightly, his hair gleaming softly in the light. He adjusted the pillow, his eyes clear and focused, looking through the screen without a trace of sleepiness.
"Don't we have to stay up past midnight to celebrate the New Year?" He asked, his tone full of a matter-of-fact insistence. Then, a faint but meaningful smile appeared at the corner of his lips. "May we be safe every year, and stay together every year."
"Since we are going to defend it, we must defend it until the very end. I will not give up halfway."
The four words "stay together year after year" were deliberately spoken at a slow pace, with a heavy weight that was almost a promise, knocking clearly on my eardrums and gently on my heart.
On the screen, his handsome eyebrows and eyes appeared particularly profound under the warm light, and the deep meaning in his eyes made me understand something instantly.
Year after year, we stay together...
How can this just be a custom of staying up all night to celebrate the New Year?
My heart felt like it was flooded by warm spring water, with a slight tingling sensation, and my cheeks began to feel slightly hot again.
I didn't expose it, nor did I refuse. I just said "hmm" softly and buried my slightly hot cheeks in the soft pillow, leaving only a pair of eyes exposed, quietly looking at the person who was also waiting on the other side of the screen.
Time flows in silence.
On the huge TV screen, there was singing and dancing, and the lights were bright.
Occasionally, I'd be captivated by a brilliant skit or song or dance performance, so absorbed that I'd forget to speak. Atobe wouldn't interrupt, simply watching my focused profile on the screen or flipping through the thick German poetry book in his hands, his slender fingers occasionally rustling across the yellowed pages.
I lowered my head and unscrewed a can of hand cream with the elegant scent of gardenia. I dipped my fingertips into the white cream and carefully applied it on the back of my other hand and between my fingers. My movements were gentle and focused.
The soft light outlines my lowered eyebrows and fingertips that are concentrating on applying makeup. My plain face has a breathtaking tenderness under the light and shadow.
There was no forced conversation, no awkward searching for topics. Just the even breathing sounds on both sides of the screen, the soft rustle of pages turning, the subtle patter of hand cream being rubbed in, and the distant background noise of the TV.
A strange, soothing tranquility and harmony flowed slowly between us like a silent stream, soaking us in. It was as if we had crossed thousands of mountains and rivers, breaking the barrier of time difference. The tranquility and tacit understanding at this moment were so natural.
The countdown on TV finally entered the last ten seconds.
The host's excited voice was accompanied by the audience's uniform shouts: "Ten! Nine! Eight!..."
On this side of the screen, Atobe had already put down his poetry collection without me noticing. He sat up slightly, his eyes fixed intently on my face on the screen. His eyes, in the countdown light, shone startlingly bright, clearly reflecting a tiny image of me.
“…Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!!!”
The moment the clock struck midnight, huge cheers and festive music erupted inside and outside the TV. Gorgeous virtual fireworks exploded on the screen.
Almost at the same time, Atobe's deep and clear voice came through the receiver, with a steady power that penetrated the clamor:
"Happy New Year, Wushan."
He was the first person to say blessings to me in the first second of the New Year.
On the screen, my eyes curved into crescents, and a smile spread from the bottom of my eyes, like the first blooming pear blossoms, pure and bright.
"Well, Happy New Year, Atobe." My voice was filled with genuine joy.
"Go to bed." He urged again, a hint of subtle tenderness in his voice, "Staying up late is bad for your health."
"I understand, President." I responded with a smile, a little bit of intimate complaint.
We said goodnight to each other and the video call finally ended. The screen went dark, and the only sounds in the bedroom were the still-continuing celebratory music from the TV and my own shallow breathing.
The hustle and bustle suddenly faded away, but my heart seemed to be filled with a warm and full emotion, and there was no emptiness anymore.
Fatigue finally came over me.
I turned off the TV, and the room fell into a quiet darkness perfect for sleep. Just as I lay down, ready to fall asleep, the phone screen beside my pillow silently lit up again.
A bank notification message lies quietly on the lock screen.
[Transfer Notice: Atobe Keigo has transferred 999,999.00 yen to your account ending in XXXX.]
In the remarks column, there are only three concise and powerful Chinese characters:
【New Year's money】
At that moment, it seemed as if a tiny electric current passed through my fingertips and reached the tip of my heart.
What surprised me was not the amount of money represented by the string of numbers, which was enough to make ordinary people speechless, but the meaning behind those three words.
New Year’s money.
Drive away evil spirits and enjoy peace every year.
He remembered. He listened, and in a most Atobe Keigo way, he made it a reality—heavy and with an irresistible sense of protection.
The screen's light shone faintly in the darkness, reflecting the slight upward curve of my lips. I stretched out my finger, lightly tracing it across the notification, as if I could touch the clumsy yet incredibly sincere affection that had traveled across mountains and seas.
There was no reply, just the phone was gently placed on the pillow.
I sank into the soft blanket and closed my eyes. The heavy "lucky money," with its unique dominance and tenderness, like the sweetest sleeping incense, quietly and steadily sank into my dream.
In the dream, there seemed to be the fragrance of golden osmanthus, Xiaokong's excited shouting, and a vague but warm figure stubbornly trying to wrap his coat around my head in the snow.
May you be safe every year and stay together every year.
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