Morning in Yunxi arrived quietly.
When Muyao opened her eyes, the world outside her window had softened. A thin layer of snow dusted the rooftops and narrow streets, the white powder catching the early morning light. It wasn't heavy snow—just a gentle fall that drifted lazily through the air, settling on tree branches and stone walls.
For a moment, she stayed by the window, watching.
The town looked even quieter than before. Smoke rose slowly from chimneys, curling into the pale winter sky, while the river carried faint wisps of mist above its surface.
It felt peaceful in a way she rarely experienced.
After dressing warmly—her beige wool coat layered over a thick sweater and a soft scarf wrapped loosely around her neck—Muyao stepped outside. The cold air brushed against her cheeks, crisp but refreshing.
A few light footprints marked the streets where early risers had already passed through the snow.
She walked slowly, letting herself wander without direction.
Before long, she reached a small local breakfast shop she had noticed the previous day, one of the few places open this early in the quiet mountain town. A simple wooden sign hung above the doorway, swaying slightly in the cold morning air, while warm light spilled through the fogged glass windows.
Inside, the space was modest but welcoming. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly fried dough and warm soy milk.
Muyao ordered a simple breakfast—a bowl of salty tofu pudding, a cup of hot soy milk, and a pair of crispy youtiao. Carrying the tray carefully, she chose a seat by the window and settled into the chair, wrapping her hands around the warm cup as the heat slowly returned to her fingers.
Steam rose gently from the bowl of tofu pudding as Muyao picked up her spoon.
The surface shimmered with a light drizzle of soy sauce, chopped scallions, and a touch of chili oil. Beside it, the golden youtiao rested on a small plate, still warm from the fryer.
She tore off a small piece and dipped it into the tofu pudding before taking a bite.
Simple.
Warm.
Comforting.
Muyao couldn't help but smile faintly.
Despite the Lin family's wealth and status in Hua City, meals at home had always been surprisingly simple. Western cuisine occasionally appeared at formal banquets or business dinners, but within the Lin household, everyone preferred Huaxia food.
Her father often said that no matter how much the world changed, food from home would always taste the most familiar.
Even her brothers, who spent most of their time running different branches of the family's businesses, rarely chose Western breakfasts when they were home. It was always things like soy milk, steamed buns, congee, or tofu pudding.
Nothing extravagant.
Just food that felt grounding.
Muyao lifted the cup of soy milk and took a slow sip, the warmth spreading through her chest.
Sitting in this small breakfast shop in Yunxi, eating a meal that could be found in almost any corner of Huaxia, she suddenly felt a quiet sense of familiarity.
It reminded her of home.
Outside the window, snow continued to fall softly over the quiet streets, while a few early risers passed by bundled in thick coats.
Muyao rested her chin lightly against her hand as she watched the peaceful scene unfold, savoring the rare moment of stillness.
For once, there was no schedule waiting for her.
No expectations.
Just a simple breakfast, a quiet morning, and the slow rhythm of a small mountain city waking up to winter.
After finishing her breakfast, Muyao lingered a little longer by the window, watching the snowfall drift quietly across Yunxi's narrow streets.
The morning light made everything look softer—rooftops dusted with white, bare tree branches catching flakes as they fell, and the river carrying faint ribbons of mist across its surface.
She reached into her bag and pulled out her camera.
Stepping outside, Muyao walked slowly along the quiet street, pausing every now and then to capture small moments. Snow settling on old stone walls. A bicycle leaning against a wooden storefront. Birds fluttering between branches before disappearing into the pale sky.
The town looked peaceful in a way that felt almost untouched.
She took several photos before finally lowering the camera, satisfied.
These would be perfect for a Weibo post later tonight.
For now, she simply transferred the photos to her phone and opened her WeChat. In the Lin family group chat, she sent a few of the pictures without any caption.
Almost immediately, messages began appearing.
Lin Bohan reacted first with a simple "Not bad."
Lin Muchuan followed with a short comment about how quiet the town looked compared to Hua City.
Her mother, Xia Xuexing, replied with a string of smiling emojis and a reminder for her to dress warmly.
Muyao smiled softly before locking her phone.
The snowfall had grown slightly lighter by then, leaving a thin layer of white across the streets.
A little further down the road stood the small café she had noticed earlier during her stay—the only one in this quiet mountain city.
The warm lights inside looked inviting against the cold winter air.
She stepped inside and ordered a warm peppermint mocha, the faint scent of mint blending pleasantly with the aroma of fresh coffee. After a few quiet minutes inside, she finished the drink slowly before stepping back out onto the street.
Just as the cold air brushed against her cheeks again, her phone began to ring.
The screen lit up with a FaceTime call.
Grandpa Xia.
Muyao answered.
The screen quickly filled with the familiar faces of her maternal grandparents, Xia Guorui and Feng Lirong, sitting comfortably in their living room.
"Muyao!" Feng Lirong greeted warmly.
Xia Guorui leaned slightly closer to the camera. "Your mother told us you went on vacation after finishing your acting lessons. Are you enjoying the trip?"
Muyao adjusted the phone slightly, letting the quiet street behind her appear in the background.
"I am," she said with a small smile. "Yunxi is very peaceful."
Feng Lirong nodded approvingly. "Good. Traveling while you're young is important."
Then she added with a playful tone, "But tell us honestly, do you miss us?"
Muyao laughed softly. "Of course I do."
"Good," Feng Lirong said, clearly pleased.
Xia Guorui continued, "Everyone's quite busy right now. Your uncles, aunts, and cousins are all finishing their work before the holiday so they can return home for the Lunar New Year."
He paused before adding with a knowing look, "And don't forget—this year the Xia family will be going to the Lin residence to celebrate together."
Muyao nodded. She hadn't forgotten.
As the only daughter of Xia Guorui and Feng Lirong, when Xia Xuexing married Lin Anguo, the Xia family had made one special request.
They asked the Lin family to promise that the Xia family would always be welcome to celebrate important holidays together with their daughter.
Every two years, during Lunar New Year, the Xia family would gather at the Lin residence so both families could celebrate together.
Fortunately, this had never been an issue for the Lin family.
Unlike many older families that strictly followed traditional customs, the Lin family believed that traditions could adapt with time. As the country modernized and people's lives changed, they believed families should also embrace new ways of thinking.
And to them, having both families celebrate together only made the holiday warmer.
Feng Lirong looked at Muyao again through the screen.
"So don't stay away too long," she said gently. "Everyone will be home soon."
Muyao looked up briefly at the quiet Yunxi sky, snowflakes still drifting lazily through the air.
"I won't," she replied softly.
After a few more gentle reminders from her grandparents to dress warmly and eat properly, the call eventually came to an end.
The screen went dark, reflecting the quiet street behind her.
Muyao slipped her phone back into her coat pocket and looked around.
Yunxi remained calm and unhurried. Snowflakes continued to drift lazily through the air, settling on rooftops, tree branches, and the narrow stone road beneath her feet.
A few locals walked past, their breath faintly visible in the cold air, carrying bags of groceries or chatting softly as they went about their morning.
Muyao lifted her camera again for a moment, capturing the quiet scene.
Another memory to keep.
Another small moment she could share later.
She glanced at the photo preview on her screen—the soft snowfall, the lanterns hanging from wooden eaves, the gentle stillness of the town.
Perfect.
Tonight, she would post them.
For now, she simply slipped the camera back into her bag and continued walking down the quiet street, letting Yunxi guide the rest of her day.
In this small mountain city, time moved slowly.
And for once, Muyao was perfectly content to move just as slowly with it.