Qing Yun hadn't planned anything for her birthday. To her, it was a date on the calendar, nothing more. She expected to spend it as she always did—quietly, with a book and tea.
But that morning, her classmates insisted on walking her somewhere "special." She followed, puzzled, until they pushed open the door to a rented gallery space and slipped away, leaving her standing alone.
The hall was softly lit, candlelight flickering against white walls. Gentle instrumental music floated in the air. Arranged along the sides were antique books and calligraphy scrolls, each restored with delicate care. Seasonal flowers spilled from porcelain vases, their fragrance subtle but soothing.
At the center, a long dining table stretched under a canopy of lights, set with two places.
Qing Yun froze.
From behind her, steady footsteps approached. She turned, and there he was—Gu Ze Yan, in a simple dark suit, no tie, eyes warm.
"Happy birthday," he said.
Her throat tightened. "Ze Yan… this…"
He stepped closer, slipping a small box into her hand. "You deserved more than what I gave you before. Let me make up for it."
Inside the box was a handcrafted restoration toolkit, each tool engraved with her initials. She touched them with trembling fingers.
"Ze Yan…"
He pressed a finger gently against her lips. "Just enjoy tonight. No explanations."
Dinner was quiet and intimate, each dish chosen carefully—her favorite flavors, done to perfection. When the plates were cleared, he extended a hand.
"Dance with me."
She hesitated only a second before placing her hand in his. Under the soft glow, they swayed slowly. No rooftop, no crowd, only the two of them moving in silence, the world held at bay.
For once, Qing Yun thought, maybe birthdays could mean something.
---
Weeks passed. Autumn gave way to winter.
One morning, Qing Yun stepped outside Cloudpeak Residences and stopped short. White flakes spiraled from the sky, soft and weightless. She lifted her hand, catching one on her palm, eyes widening.
Her first snow.
Heart racing, she fumbled for her phone and hit video call.
It rang once. Twice. Then his face appeared, framed by the sleek interior of a boardroom. Behind him, a long table of executives froze mid-discussion.
"Ze Yan!" she exclaimed, breathless. She turned her camera toward the falling snow. "It's snowing! Look—my first time."
He leaned back in his chair, watching her with a smile that ignored the stares around him. "Beautiful."
She turned the camera back to her face, cheeks pink from cold. "Don't you dare say the snow is beautiful."
He chuckled. "Fine. You're beautiful."
Her blush deepened. "Gu Ze Yan! You're in a meeting!"
He angled the phone deliberately so the entire board could see. "My Qing Yun is seeing snow for the first time."
Gasps, awkward coughs, averted gazes.
Qing Yun nearly dropped the phone, mortified. "Stop it!"
But he only laughed, unashamed, his voice rich. "Let them see. What's the point of having all this if I can't show you off?"
---
Life in Guangjing found its rhythm. Qing Yun kept her calm, elegant manner, but little by little, she began to care for herself in ways she hadn't before.
Meals were regular, balanced. She jogged along the riverside with classmates, cheeks flushed from the cold. Sometimes she let them coax her into trying light makeup, soft colors that brightened her features.
She bought new clothes—not just practical pieces, but styles that made her look radiant.
For the first time in years, when she looked in the mirror, she didn't only see weariness. She saw someone becoming whole again.
---
When Ze Yan arrived on New Year's Eve, he expected the same quiet woman he had left.
Instead, the door opened, and Qing Yun stood there in a simple winter dress, her face touched with light makeup, her smile calm but warm.
He froze.
"You're back," she said softly.
His eyes darkened, lingering on every detail. "You…" He stepped closer, gaze fierce in its intensity. "You're even more dangerous like this."
She shifted awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "What?"
He shook his head slowly, as if words failed him. "You're glowing."
Her cheeks warmed under his stare.
---
That night, they joined the crowd to watch fireworks bloom above Guangjing's square. Their hands intertwined, their shoulders brushing as the cold pressed close.
Qing Yun tilted her head back, eyes bright as the night sky lit with bursts of color.
A flash went off nearby.
Not fireworks—camera flash.
Ze Yan's gaze snapped toward the source, his expression sharpening instantly, protective.
Qing Yun blinked, lowering her head, the unease crawling in.
The new year was only beginning.