Chapter 738

The dusk had grown quite deep.

On the LCD TV, a recorded New Year’s Gala from Mango TV played, just to pass the time.

Xu Qingzhou peeled an orange, watching the dancers on screen: “Look at that—now that’s dancing. Fluid movements, elegant and spirited. Yours? Pure rehabilitation training.”

“Professor Xu, I’ll allow you to say that again.”

Song Yao’s hands had already wrapped around Xu Qingzhou’s waist.

Xu Qingzhou winked at Wang Xiaping, who had already won her hand.

Wang Xiaping feigned not seeing: “Are you having eye spasms?”

“.”

“I said you dance beautifully.”

Xu Qingzhou slipped a segment of the peeled orange into Song Yao’s mouth and praised her.

Song Yao raised an eyebrow but let him off—her parents were right there, and she couldn’t act.

“It’s snowing.”

Song Yao glanced out the window, her face suddenly bright with delight. She poked Xu Qingzhou and pulled him toward the balcony.

“You two, put on your coats,” came Zhang Junli’s voice.

“We’re just going to look, we’ll be right back.”

Snowflakes drifted through the air like willow fluff, scattered and sparkling. Standing before the floor-to-ceiling window, they could see the distant, rolling expanse of the cityscape.

The two stood on the balcony.

Rongcheng’s snow was subtle—a rare, fleeting sight, the kind that made everyone excited when it fell, even trending online.

“Time flies so fast—it’s already 2021,” Song Yao said, reaching out to catch a falling snowflake.

Xu Qingzhou watched the warm puffs of her breath and drew closer, pulling her into his arms.

At this moment, he truly felt time slipping away like a shuttle.

Behind them, occasional laughter from Xu’s father and Song’s father playing mahjong brought an unexpected sense of peace.

“What are you grinning at?” Song Yao tilted her head and pinched Xu Qingzhou’s cheek a few times.

Xu Qingzhou rubbed the girl’s hair and said: “I just feel this life is wonderful.”

“Good to know.”

Song Yao swatted his hand away, gazing into the distance.

The modern city glowed with countless lights—whether from mansions or humble homes, each one now represented the joy of the New Year.

“Let’s go back.”

“Aren’t you going to look some more?”

“You can stay here. I’m going back,” Song Yao said, smoothing her wind-tousled bangs, then turning to reenter.

“Aren’t you the one who loves romance?” Xu Qingzhou followed her inside.

Song Yao scoffed: “Standing outside in the cold at night? That’s stupid.”

“Didn’t someone used to say doing silly things together was romance?”

“Shut up!”

“Can’t argue, so you resort to violence.”

“Xu Qingzhou, are you looking for a fight?!”

On New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, both families stayed in Rongcheng; on the second day, they began visiting relatives.

The two young people first went with them to the village where Xu Qingzhou’s grandparents lived, then on the fourth day headed to Song Yao’s hometown.

Though busy, it was better than last year—just the immediate family over for meals, no extended relatives invited.

February 19.

After spending the New Year in Rongcheng, Xu Qingzhou and Song Yao returned to Beijing, leaving their newly purchased penthouse empty.

Song’s parents had bought their home only eight years ago—it was a new neighborhood, and they had no plans to move.