15 Hearing Winter

After scrubbing for a long time to no avail, Zhang Xingxu crumpled the tissue and tossed it into the trash can.

Wen Dong paused for a moment and suggested, "Don't get that shirt wet yet. Mix dish soap with toothpaste and apply it to the spot. Let it soak in hot water with a bit of baking soda for a few minutes, and the oil stain will come right out."

Zhang Xingxu let out an "mm," looked down at the mark on his shirt, and furrowed his brows. "It’s fine."

Wen Dong untied her apron. "Why don't you wear mine instead?"

"No need," Zhang Xingxu refused.

He turned to grab a paper cup and changed the subject, "Want a Coke?"

Wen Dong nodded. "Yes!"

The sky was turning dark, and the city lights were beginning to flicker on. On the rooftop, the open-air barbecue was in full swing, with chicken wings and beef skewers sizzling and aromatic, accompanied by fizzy, ice-cold Coke.

The rooftop was usually empty. The only light came from a low-wattage energy-saving bulb near the stairwell exit, which barely reached the grill, leaving the charcoal fire to provide the primary glow in the night.

Zhang Xingxu poured Wen Dong a full glass of Coke.

Wen Dong took a sip, the bubbles racing to tickle her taste buds, making her eyes and nose crinkle. She sighed, "So good!"

"Though it's been out for a while," she said, touching the bottle and shaking off the condensation, "it's not cold anymore."

Zhang Xingxu put down his skewer, wiped his hands with a napkin, and stood up. "There's ice in the fridge. I'll go get some."

Before Wen Dong could finish saying "Forget it," he was already gone, as if he hadn't heard her.

A few minutes later, he returned with a bowl of ice cubes.

Wen Dong was sitting by the low table gnawing on a braised chicken foot. She looked up at the sound and immediately noticed something different. "You changed your clothes again?"

Zhang Xingxu handed her the bowl. Wen Dong kept her eyes on him and asked, "Are you a Virgo?"

Seeing she was holding a chicken foot, Zhang Xingxu added the ice to her half-finished Coke and gave a flat "mm."

"When’s your birthday?" Wen Dong didn't dwell on it and took a drink.

As some braised sauce got on the paper cup, Zhang Xingxu’s eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly. After a long pause, he answered, "September first."

Wen Dong chuckled and pointed at him with the chicken foot. "Doesn't that mean your birthday always falls right when school starts every year?"

A piece of red chili was stuck on the chicken foot like a ring. Wen Dong shook it, but it wouldn't fall off.

Zhang Xingxu sat opposite her, watching her quietly. "I don't celebrate my birthday."

"Huh?" Wen Dong looked surprised for a moment, then realized and let out a dismissive sound. "I didn't celebrate mine either. It’s no big deal; I’ve made it through twenty-some years just fine."

She lowered her head to continue gnawing on the chicken foot.

Zhang Xingxu didn't speak. In the distance, the incandescent bulb cast his face in a mix of light and shadow, his eyelashes throwing a faint veil over his eyes.

The surroundings were so quiet that even the wind seemed to have died down. Occasionally, muffled voices drifted up from downstairs, hazy and dreamlike.

Wen Dong sniffled from the spice and reached out to Zhang Xingxu. "Tissue."

Zhang Xingxu leaned over and handed her some.

Wen Dong pulled out two sheets to wipe her nose, her eyes glistening with tears from the heat. She asked him, "Do you know why I'm named Wen Dong?"

"Why?"

"There's no such thing as a free scoop in this world." Wen Dong lifted her chin slightly and raised her glass. "Take a sip of Coke and I'll tell you."

Zhang Xingxu hesitated for two seconds.

He poured half a glass of Coke and clinked it against hers. The moment he took a sip, the carbonation exploded, and his eyebrows knit together in a grimace.

Wen Dong laughed uncontrollably. "Why do you look like you're drinking Chinese medicine?"

Zhang Xingxu said, "Chinese medicine doesn't taste this bad."

"Stop slandering Coke. If you don't love it, please don't hurt it."

"So, why are you named Wen Dong?" he brought the topic back.

"Because I was born in winter," Wen Dong said airily. "Simple enough, right?"

Zhang Xingxu replied, "Not really."

"No need to comfort me."

Wen Dong used her disposable chopsticks to slide a chicken wing off the skewer and shared a piece with Zhang Xingxu. "My parents weren't very educated. Originally, the name was meant to be Wen Dong, with the character 'Dong' for 'pillar'—reserved for the son they hoped for."

She looked up and found Zhang Xingxu watching her.

She gave a helpless smile. "But I wasn't a son, so they just changed it to the character for the season, calling me 'Wen Dong' (Winter)."

She spoke of these things with a light tone, as if recounting someone else’s life that had nothing to do with her.

A long time passed.

"Why did you stop talking? Do you think it’s still feudal to have a preference for boys over girls?" she asked.

"I don't know what to say," he replied.

Wen Dong finished her Coke and held out her glass. "Pour me some more."

Zhang Xingxu twisted off the cap, the bottle hovering steadily over the cup, and poured the brown liquid slowly. "How are your relations with your family?"

The question was too intrusive.

He regretted it the moment it left his mouth. His hand paused, and the Coke didn't quite fill the glass.

Wen Dong said, "Not great."

She swirled the glass and dropped in two ice cubes. "I didn't want to live with them, so I moved out on my own."

She suddenly smiled. "And ended up being your landlady."

A flash of mischief crossed her eyes, as if she were saying, 'Big sister has a little money.'

"What about you, Zhang Xingxu?" Wen Dong asked. "You, a flower-watcher, coming all the way to Jiacheng—was it really just to hike and take a couple of photos of yellow corydalis?"

Her question was blunt, like a sharp, silver-edged dagger stuck between them, leaving him no room to dodge.

Wen Dong's stance was clear. She had answered his question, so in fairness, he should answer hers.

Zhang Xingxu tapped his digital watch to check the time. "Just happened to snap them while I was at it."

Wen Dong choked. "Then why did you come to Lecheng..."

"On a whim. I caught a ride and just came along."

"With no plan?"

"None."

"Then why rent an apartment? Too much money to burn?"

Zhang Xingxu said, "It's not my money."

"Living off your parents?"

Zhang Xingxu's expression shifted slightly. "That’s a bit mean."

Before Wen Dong could respond, he added, "But it is indeed money they gave me."

Wen Dong picked up a handful of corn kernels and placed them on the grill, sighing softly. "An sheltered young master, then."

Zhang Xingxu replied, "I don't like that description."

Wen Dong turned to look at him. "Which part? 'Young master'?"

"Yes. It's a remnant of feudal language."

Wen Dong sat back and tilted her head to examine him. "But it's strange. Why didn't you deny it?"

"Does someone actually call you 'Young Master'?"

Just like Li Manyue's bodyguards called her "Young Miss" every single time. It was like living in a sappy romance novel. Every time Wen Dong heard it, she would laugh until she couldn't stand straight. Li Manyue was speechless and had warned her several times, but Wen Dong couldn't help it.

She said, "If I ever switch careers to write CEO romance novels, I'm definitely using your dad as the prototype."

Li Manyue had been so angry she slapped her, leaving her arm swollen for two days.

Wen Dong rubbed her arm, a lingering sense of fear, and looked up to find their eyes locked.

He didn't admit it, but he didn't deny it either. He just looked at her with that calm expression. The charcoal fire flared up, consuming the corn through the iron grate, only to shrink back as the wind blew.

"Forget it. If you don't like it, I won't ask." Wen Dong was the first to look away.

Just as Zhang Xingxu thought the subject was closed, Wen Dong looked back, fixing her gaze on his eyes. "Can I ask you one more private question?"

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she looked full of curiosity. "Give me the bottom line—how rich is your family?"

Zhang Xingxu took the bowl of ice and returned her words: "There's no such thing as a free inquiry in this world. Eat the ice, and I'll tell you."

Wen Dong glared at him. "You’re ruthless!"

She grabbed an ice cube and popped it into her mouth. It was so cold it almost made her roll her eyes.

Zhang Xingxu offered a faint smile. "I don't know."

"You're messing with me!" Wen Dong covered her mouth and leaned over to swat at him.

Zhang Xingxu grabbed the hand she swiped with. "I really don't know."

Wen Dong was pinned, and after struggling twice without breaking free, she simply pulled a stool over and sat down, crunching the ice loudly. "Fine, if you don't want to say, forget it. Let go of me."

"However," Zhang Xingxu changed his tone, "that villa area below Lezhi Mountain is one of the districts their company developed in its early years. Ten years ago, that place was still just wasteland."

His grip loosened, and Wen Dong tipped backward from the momentum. Zhang Xingxu reached out quickly and caught her, pulling her back.

"No, Zhang Xingxu, do you feel like there's something hanging over our heads?" Wen Dong pointed upward.

Zhang Xingxu looked up. The sky was stained a faint red by the neon lights, empty as could be, not a single star in sight.

Wen Dong said, "It's the BS you were spouting flying away."

"..."

"Sit properly," he let her go.

Wen Dong picked up a bamboo skewer and poked at the sky, grabbing at the air before stuffing it into her apron pocket. "There, I’ve caught it for you. Now I have material for my dreams tonight."

That night, Wen Dong actually had a dream. She dreamed she was the long-lost daughter of a nouveau riche family, suddenly transformed into a rich second-generation heiress. In the dream, she took Li Manyue shopping, swiping cards and racking up bills endlessly.

She laughed herself awake before she even finished buying everything. Staring at the familiar ceiling, the smile vanished from Wen Dong's face. She looked at the portrait of the God of Wealth. "If this dream turns out to be the opposite, I'm tearing you down!"

With that, she fell back to sleep.

Whether the God of Wealth was immune to her threats or the dream really did reverse itself, it wasn't long before Wen Dong actually made some money. But the root of that incident traced back to the stack of recruitment ads she brought home two days later.

"Did you look at that chat history I sent you today?" Wen Dong scrolled through the forwarded messages and sat down next to Zhang Xingxu. "I organized these from the government website—agriculture, forestry, and environmental departments are all hiring."

She paused for half a second. "If you want a stable 'iron rice bowl' job, you could give it a try. The exams are mostly in May or June, take a look."

Wen Dong clicked on one of the links. Before the page even loaded, Zhang Xingxu asked, "You don't want to take the exam, so you're telling me to go?"

"I..." Wen Dong was tongue-tied. "My major doesn't match. I specifically found these for you."

Two seconds later, she realized the implication of his words. "That's not what I meant! I just thought, what if you happen to like one of these positions?"

"If you don't like these, how about the Chinese Academy of Agricultural Sciences?"

To her surprise, he replied, "I'm not cut out for government exams."

Wen Dong: ?

Copying her?

Zhang Xingxu looked at her. "My memory isn't great, I forget things easily."

"That's okay." Wen Dong didn't press him. She switched to a recruitment app, opened one, and handed it to him. "Interested in landscape design?"

"By the way, do you have a gardening certification?"

"No."

Wen Dong probably hadn't expected that either; she froze for a second. "It's fine, I have more here."

She pulled out the stack of flyers she had scavenged from the human resources market. "Are you okay with pesticide sales? It matches your major, and it's not difficult at all."

Wen Dong looked at him with eager eyes. The refusal already on Zhang Xingxu's lips changed to, "I can give it a try."

"Great, go print out your resume, and I'll call their HR to set up an interview."

"Isn't this a bit fast?" Zhang Xingxu hesitated.

"Fast?"

Wen Dong suddenly thought of something, her eyes widening. "Bro, you don't even have a resume, do you?"

She immediately cut the call and pushed Zhang Xingxu toward his room. "Quick, hurry up and draft one."