The room’s lighting wasn’t very bright. Ji Ruan had only turned on the desk lamp, making it arguably dim.
Gu Xiuyi leaned against the headboard, his sharp facial lines blending into the shadows, leaving only a faint smile in his eyes.
Scattered streetlights shone faintly through the window, igniting a small, dancing halo in his eyes that inexplicably felt intimate.
Their gazes met, and Ji Ruan froze for a moment. A strange warmth seemed to surge at his fingertips, leaving him a bit dazed and flustered.
He rested his hands on the back of the chair and smiled for no clear reason: “Has Boss Gu’s massage business expanded to acupoint therapy now?”
Gu Xiuyi’s smile deepened: “Mm, I’m considering it. I’ll give you a free trial coupon first—would this customer like to try?”
Ji Ruan hesitated for only two seconds before getting up and walking toward Gu Xiuyi.
Though he couldn’t quite explain why looking at Gu Xiuyi right now made his heart feel strange, he at least knew he didn’t dislike the sensation.
Even the warmth at his fingertips was gradually spreading through his body, as if the closer he got to Gu Xiuyi, the warmer the world became. Humans are creatures drawn to light and warmth, and Ji Ruan was no exception.
He sat on the edge of the bed, placed a teddy bear on Gu Xiuyi as a cushion, and lay sideways with his face against the bear’s belly, back to him: “Start, but be gentle, okay?”
“Mm.”
Gu Xiuyi’s fingertips landed on Ji Ruan’s temples, the warm heat of his body transferring over. Ji Ruan closed his eyes in comfort.
“Can you move up a bit?”
“How about a little more pressure?”
“…Never mind, never mind, keep it light like at the start.”
He’d only made a few requests of Mr. Technician when his cheek was pinched. The technician seemed to chuckle and said, “Your demands are pretty high, huh?”
Ji Ruan rubbed the pinched spot, burying his face in the bear’s belly to hide a grin: “Isn’t that your professional standard? Besides, my head’s precious—if you don’t do it well, I won’t come back to your shop.”
The customer had quite the attitude.
Gu Xiuyi laughed: “Alright.”
To be honest, Boss Gu had probably never served anyone before. His technique was nonexistent, but fortunately, his touch was light and his body temperature high. Pressed against Ji Ruan’s forehead, even without moving, it felt as soothing as a warm compress.
Ji Ruan genuinely loved his warmth.
At first, Gu Xiuyi diligently played the role of technician, but after a short while, he let loose. Ji Ruan’s cheek would itch from a tickle, his earlobe would get pinched, and his ear would be scratched—very itchy.
He grabbed Gu Xiuyi’s hand and lay back, looking up: “Are you planning to give me a full-face massage now?”
Gu Xiuyi laughed at that: “I could… if you need it.”
With that, he immediately reached out to demonstrate his “expert” massage skills.
Ji Ruan sat up at once: “Forget it, forget it, I’m done.”
Originally, just rubbing his forehead was fine and acceptable, but having his face touched felt odd. He couldn’t explain it—it just made his heart feel tingly and numb.
He casually tousled his messy hair, got off the bed, and sat back at the desk: “I’m good now. I need to keep studying. Good night, President Gu, go to sleep.”
Pen in hand, Ji Ruan seemed to instantly enter study mode, tuning out the world. Gu Xiuyi looked at his straight back, paused for a second, then deeply felt a sense of being discarded after use.
He stood up, walked to the desk, crossed his arms, and looked down at Ji Ruan: “That’s it?”
Ji Ruan looked back: “What else?”
“…Like a thank you, maybe?”
“Then thank you. It was very comfortable.”
“A bit more?”
Ji Ruan pursed his lips, seeming to genuinely think it over, then looked at Gu Xiuyi with clear eyes: “I’ll repay you with perfect exam scores.”
“…”
Facts proved that while Technician Gu’s massage skills were subpar, they were great for exams. Ji Ruan indeed scored several perfect marks.
However, after university finals, students went straight home for break without getting their papers back. To keep his promise, Ji Ruan specially printed out his grade report and plastered it all over the technician’s door for three whole days, expressing his sincere gratitude and commendation.
In front of the door, Ji Ruan earnestly smoothed out every corner of the grade report, proudly tilting his head up to Gu Xiuyi: “How’s that?”
Gu Xiuyi: “…”
Gu Xiuyi tugged at the corner of his mouth: “Great job.”
Though Gu Xiuyi always felt like he hadn’t really gained anything, this was, after all, the first promise Ji Ruan had fulfilled for him… At least it could symbolize a breakthrough in their relationship…
Gu Xiuyi comforted himself with this thought.
The two of them looked together at the shining grade report, and from this single sheet, the prelude to the festive, lantern-lit Spring Festival began.
That year, Peking University’s finals ended late. Not long after they wrapped up, it was time for the New Year. The house’s decor had all been switched to warm tones—”fu” (fortune) characters were pasted on the windows, and red lanterns hung by the door.
On New Year’s Eve, Gu Xiuyi was still busy outside for half the day, returning home in the afternoon just before dinner.
As he entered, Ji Ruan was perched on a ladder at the entrance, putting up couplets.
The villa had high ceilings, and the front door was far grander and more imposing than an average apartment’s. Ji Ruan was standing so high up that Gu Xiuyi had to tilt his head back to see him, startled by the height.
“What are you doing?” Gu Xiuyi hurried forward.
Ji Ruan, still holding double-sided tape, looked down upon hearing him and smiled brightly: “Putting up couplets! Aunt Zhao and I went out to buy them this morning. Prices these days are getting ridiculous—a single pair of couplets costs—hey, what are you doing!”
Mid-sentence, Gu Xiuyi suddenly scooped him up by the waist and brought him down. Ji Ruan’s vision blurred, and his heart jolted upward.
Only after safely setting Ji Ruan on the ground did Gu Xiuyi let out a breath of relief.
There was no one around—Aunt Zhao was nowhere in sight—and the cobblestone steps on the ground could easily trip someone. If Ji Ruan had lost his balance and fallen, who knows what might have happened.
Just thinking about it terrified Gu Xiuyi.
“When there’s no one around, you’re not allowed to climb up that high by yourself, got it?”
Ji Ruan’s heart was still racing. The brief weightlessness from being lifted down lingered, and he pressed a hand to his chest: “You’re one to talk! Pulling me down like that was way scarier than standing up there. Couldn’t you at least warn me first?”
“…”
Gu Xiuyi calmed down and realized his actions just now had been a bit abrupt.
“Sorry,” he coughed once. “Are you done pasting?”
“Almost…” Though Ji Ruan grumbled, he knew Gu Xiuyi meant well and didn’t plan to climb back up himself, stepping aside a little.
Gu Xiuyi took the double-sided tape from Ji Ruan’s hand, climbed the ladder, and smoothed out the couplets in two or three swift motions before bringing Ji Ruan inside.
Ji Ruan was still wearing a thick scarf. Gu Xiuyi helped him take it off, looking at his pale, soft face: “Did I scare you?”
Ji Ruan’s lashes fluttered as he lowered his eyes, avoiding Gu Xiuyi’s gaze, and said confidently: “Anyone would’ve been scared like that…”
Gu Xiuyi looked away, pressing a hand on Ji Ruan’s head: “So delicate… Go wash your hands.”
For New Year’s Eve dinner, Aunt Zhao had prepared a table full of delicious dishes. The spread was vibrant and festive, brimming with joy. Ji Ruan first snapped a photo and sent it to his dorm group chat before picking up his chopsticks.
There was also a bowl of fermented rice dumplings on the table—especially tasty, more to Ji Ruan’s liking than any big fish or meat.
But Gu Xiuyi, citing that sticky rice was hard to digest, limited Ji Ruan’s portion, annoying Ji Ruan so much that he pushed the dumplings aside and drank two bowls of soup to express his displeasure.
That night, the two of them sat with the cat on the thick living room carpet to watch the Spring Festival Gala. In all his years, Gu Xiuyi could count on one hand the times he’d peacefully watched the gala on New Year’s Eve.
So this moment, for him, carried an unfamiliar kind of warmth.
Ji Ruan’s phone buzzed incessantly as his roommates sent photos of their own New Year celebrations at home.
Qin Shan’s family was still eating, with the Spring Festival Gala playing as background noise. Li Yu was already outside setting off fireworks, and Han Xiaolin sent a photo of a snowman.
Ji Ruan opened it to look and typed: [@HanDaxian, Han Xiaolin, why’d you put your snowman in the fridge?]
Han Xiaolin replied instantly: [It’s a ritual.]
[Ji Ruan: …?]
[HanDaxian: You wouldn’t know this, but it’s an ancestral tradition in our family. On New Year’s Eve, you build a snowman and put it by the door—it’s said to bring wealth and ward off evil in the coming year.]
Ji Ruan raised an eyebrow: [There’s such a saying?]
[HanDaxian: I don’t know if other places have it, but our family does. When I was a kid in the countryside, we’d build a big one every year. Now that we’ve moved to the city, the elevator apartment’s management won’t let us put it outside, so I figured the fridge door counts as a door. It’ll do.]
Goddamn, the fridge door counts as a door—Ji Ruan couldn’t hold back a laugh. Gu Xiuyi shot him a glance.
Ji Ruan, still chuckling, took a sip of water to soothe his throat and showed Gu Xiuyi the chat log.
Gu Xiuyi read it and raised an eyebrow too: “Your friend’s quite a character.”
Ji Ruan laughed even harder: “Can you believe he’s an adult and still buys into this stuff?”
“Exactly,” Gu Xiuyi agreed. “Superstition’s no good.”
“You’re right.”
After that, the two fell silent for a while, quietly watching the gala. But Ji Ruan gradually started mulling it over, opening Han Xiaolin’s photo for another look.
A few minutes later, he glanced at it again.
This snowman… it was kind of cute.
“Ahem,” Ji Ruan cleared his throat, idly tugging at the tassels on a throw pillow: “Who’d go out on New Year’s Eve to build a snowman? So boring.”
Gu Xiuyi nodded, genuinely agreeing: “And it’s easy to catch a cold.”
Ji Ruan: “…”
He turned to face Gu Xiuyi: “I’d never do something so childish.”
“Me neither.”
Gu Xiuyi answered casually, only then sensing something off. The gaze beside him felt unusually intense.
He hesitated and turned his head, suddenly meeting Ji Ruan’s eyes. The kid was staring right at him, his big, beautiful eyes unwavering.
Gu Xiuyi locked eyes with him for a moment and noticed that the person who’d just called building a snowman childish was brimming with eager anticipation.
Ji Ruan’s eyes flickered, and he immediately knew Gu Xiuyi had caught on to his thoughts. He pursed his lips and smiled.
He was certain this smile was especially cute and sweet, his dimples filled to the brim with sugary syrup—no one, from an eighty-year-old grandma to a three-year-old kid, male or female, could resist it.
Let alone Gu Xiuyi, a pretentious, secretly sulky guy like him.
Sure enough, Gu Xiuyi’s lips pressed together slightly, and Ji Ruan saw a hint of wavering in his expression.
But the next second, Gu Xiuyi suddenly turned to the TV: “Who’s singing right now?”
Clearly dodging the topic.
Ji Ruan snatched the remote from his hand, forcing him to meet his eyes again: “You wouldn’t know them even if I told you. Why ask? How about we live in the moment instead?”
Gu Xiuyi: “…”
Gu Xiuyi was truly at a loss.
Ji Ruan was usually lazy and laid-back, but when he looked at someone seriously, his eyes would shine exceptionally bright. Because of his light-colored pupils, they looked as beautiful as gemstones, their gaze so intense it could practically burn the other person’s ears red.
Gu Xiuyi raised a hand to cover Ji Ruan’s eyes, turning his face away.
Ji Ruan’s vision went dark, but he heard a faint sigh by his ear.
·
Ten minutes later, Ji Ruan appeared outside with a small bucket alongside Gu Xiuyi.
He was dressed heavily, so bulky that sitting or standing was inconvenient. Gu Xiuyi, unafraid of the cold, wore ordinary winter clothes, moving with far more ease than Ji Ruan—countless times more, in fact.
Even as his hands touched the snow, Gu Xiuyi still found it unbelievable: “Who said they’d absolutely never do something so childish? Why are we out here now?”
Ji Ruan, cautious not to slip, walked carefully: “Oh, come on, isn’t this to bless you with wealth in the coming year?”
“No need,” Gu Xiuyi said, steadying him with a hand. “I’m already very rich.”
Ji Ruan laughed: “You’re funny. Who’d ever complain about having too much money?”
That was true. As a businessman, Gu Xiuyi couldn’t possibly treat money like dirt. So, under Ji Ruan’s beaming gaze, he sighed and resigned himself to rolling snowballs.
They didn’t go into the yard, just piled two big snowballs at the door, stacking them to form a simple snowman base.
—In reality, Gu Xiuyi did all the piling.
Ji Ruan’s thick clothes restricted his movement so much that he could only play with the snow like mud on the sidelines.
Once the snowman’s shape was done, Ji Ruan took charge of the finishing touches: buttons for eyes, a carrot for a nose, twigs for arms, and a scarf wrapped around it.
The air was too cold, numbing Ji Ruan’s legs. When he tried to stand, he accidentally plopped down on his butt. Embarrassingly, his thick clothes made it impossible to get up.
He braced himself against the snow and tried several times, but he didn’t budge an inch—like a magnet buried in the snow was holding him down.
Finally, Ji Ruan could only lift his hat slightly and look at Gu Xiuyi with pleading eyes.
Gu Xiuyi had wanted to help him up from the start, but the way the little one huffed and puffed on the ground was so amusing that he couldn’t resist a playful urge. He’d pulled back his hand, crossed his arms, and watched the show for a bit.
But now Ji Ruan clearly couldn’t get up, his nose and cheeks red. Gu Xiuyi, worried that sitting longer would wet his pants with snow and make him catch a cold, bent down and half-hugged him to pull him up.
Ji Ruan’s legs were numb, and he panted softly while leaning on Gu Xiuyi for support.
Gu Xiuyi looked surprised: “You barely moved, and you’re panting like this?”
Ji Ruan shot him an annoyed glare: “Do you know how heavy these clothes are? Whew—easy for you to say when you’re just standing there.”
Gu Xiuyi gave a helpless smile.
Once Ji Ruan’s breathing evened out a bit, he finally had the energy to look up at Gu Xiuyi.
Say what you will, but the two red lanterns at the door were a great choice. Their bright light spread over Gu Xiuyi’s face like a thin veil, making him look warm and cozy.
Even his eyes were warm.
Ji Ruan stared at him for a while, then blurted out of nowhere: “Your eyes are pretty nice.”
Gu Xiuyi’s eyes flickered suddenly, as if the comment made him uneasy: “What nonsense are you spouting?”
Ji Ruan’s round dimples appeared: “My ears might be bad, but I’m not blind. Seriously, I didn’t notice before, but they’re kind of good-looking now.”
For a moment, the white breath Gu Xiuyi exhaled seemed to freeze.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he turned his head away: “Did those fermented rice dumplings get you drunk, Ji Ruan?”
Ji Ruan laughed again at that.
Snow began to fall from the sky. Not wanting to get wet, Ji Ruan picked up the bucket and headed inside, drawling lazily: “I’m not drunk.”
His voice turned sticky and soft in the snowy air.
Only after he’d walked away did Gu Xiuyi snap out of it, looking at his back. The breath he instinctively let out from his chest could almost be called sweet.
The author has something to say:
President Gu: He’s so good at this.
Ji “Love Genius” Ruan Ruan