Ji Shuhe rested her chin on her hand, watching him silently fold those clothes over and over. She could tell he was in a bad mood.
"Are you feeling down?"
Wen Shaoyu was taken aback, then laughed. He put down the clothes and sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. "Look who's talking. You're no better."
It was a bit like the pot calling the kettle black.
Ji Shuhe thought she hadn't shown it.
"A little," she admitted, holding up her hand to show she was only mildly affected.
Wen Shaoyu tilted his chin. "Spill?"
There wasn't much to say.
Ji Shuhe thought for a moment, trying to be concise. "This morning, I got a call from my dad. He said he was too busy to come to Xinhai for the New Year."
As she spoke, she picked a piece of old-brand milk candy from the box and held it in her hand, not eating but just flipping it over and over. In a daze, the rabbit on the white-and-blue wrapper seemed to move.
When she was a child, Ji Shuhe loved this brand of candy. All kids loved sweets, especially soft, milky ones. Her father was from Xinhai, and he had a special fondness for local specialties, so this candy always appeared in the New Year box.
Later, she got cavities, and Xia Chun strictly forbade her from eating candy. She actually obeyed for years. But this year, with no one watching, curiosity made her try one again.
The rice paper melted, and the intense sweetness hit her tongue. She frowned through the whole thing.
It was too sweet—so sweet it turned bitter.
Growing up, she had lost her taste for it.
Ji Shuhe took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, thinking she had let it go. "It was expected. I'm not that sad. And even if we met, there's nothing to say. Better to just do our own things."
"I don't expect anything anymore. So I won't be disappointed."
"Xiao Miaomiao, if you keep lying to yourself, you'll start believing it."
Wen Shaoyu listened quietly, without his usual sarcasm.
But he was just as sharp, ruthlessly puncturing the calm facade she had built up. She deflated like a balloon slowly losing air.
"Then what should I do? I've been trying so hard to change." Ji Shuhe's grievance surfaced again. She clenched the candy in her fist.
Wen Shaoyu didn't answer. Instead, he held out his fist under her lowered head and opened his hand. In his palm lay two gold-wrapped chocolates.
"Swap with yours. They're imported brand, so they shouldn't be bad."
Ji Shuhe looked up in surprise. "Chocolate?"
"Yeah, I picked matcha-flavored ones for you."
The chocolate—probably brought all the way from that house—felt a bit soft to the touch.
Ji Shuhe took one, unwrapped it, and held it out to Wen Shaoyu. "Fair's fair. One for each of us."
Wen Shaoyu silently took it but offered it back to her lips. "You eat it. I want yours."
He didn't like things with bitterness. Earlier, they'd been talking about a gift box on the coffee table, how it was imported and famous for matcha flavor. He'd thought of Ji Shuhe, so he'd grabbed a couple and stuffed them in his pocket.
But who knew that during the New Year, he'd be kicked out by his father over just two chocolates, like a dog discarded when no longer pleasing?
The chocolate's aroma filled the air. Ji Shuhe looked up and saw his dark expression, lost in thought. She impulsively took a bite of the chocolate, then placed the milk candy in his palm.
"Fine then. I got the better end of the deal."
Wen Shaoyu let out a soft laugh. His long fingers unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth. He said nothing more.
The candy was sweet—just as sweet as when he was a child, with wobbly baby teeth, and he'd begged his mom for candy, only to have his tooth pulled out by the sticky toffee.
But now, that sweetness eventually turned into a bitter lump he couldn't swallow.
Wen Shaoyu's thoughts drifted back to that "home." His half-brother considered everything there his own, so even a piece of chocolate wasn't allowed for Wen Shaoyu.
Add to that a biased father who lectured him about giving in, and it was a miracle he'd stayed as long as he did.
He suddenly spoke, his voice muffled by the candy. "Xiao Miaomiao, you need to be kinder to yourself. Because besides yourself, no one is worth your expectations."
Ji Shuhe stared at him with her beautiful big eyes, unblinking. Something complex flickered in her gaze, which Wen Shaoyu couldn't quite decipher.
He never backed down, so he stared back.
But his heart began to beat in time with her blinking, until finally, like snow that never melts meeting the summer sun, it surrendered to fate and melted into a puddle of gentle water.
Ji Shuhe was wearing a coral fleece loungewear set, her long hair in a low ponytail with a soft, fluffy crown and stray strands sticking out.
He wanted to reach out and touch her drooping little leaves that she couldn't see herself. But just as his fingers brushed against her fair, delicate forehead, there was a crisp "pop."
Ji Shuhe winced and immediately covered her forehead. "Wen Shaoyu, what are you doing!"
In winter, with warm, dry air, static electricity was unavoidable.
Wen Shaoyu laughed and held up his hands in innocence. "It was static. I can't help it."
Ji Shuhe wasn't buying it. "Then why did you reach for me? Were you going to flick my forehead!"
Hearing that, Wen Shaoyu had no comeback. This little sprout was definitely going to grow into a solid elm tree—her branches could be carved into her own likeness, a perfect blockhead.
"Fine, let me get you back then," he said, giving up.
Ji Shuhe refused. "I'm not a Pikachu. I can't just zap you on command."