A week after their so-called first date, the city's winter festival began. Lanterns hung from every tree, strings of golden fairy lights zigzagged overhead, and the smell of roasted chestnuts filled the air.
Liang Meiyu stood at the entrance, bundled in her thick red coat, waiting for Zhao Yichen. The festival was crowded—families, couples, groups of friends—and she felt a little self-conscious standing alone.
She checked her phone. Five minutes late. Of course.
"Looking for me?"
She turned to see him strolling toward her, hands in his pockets, wearing a navy coat that made him look like he'd stepped out of a magazine. The sight made her heart skip, but she quickly masked it with a frown.
"You're late," she said.
"I'm worth the wait." He grinned, then without warning, reached out and adjusted her scarf. "You didn't tie it properly. What if you catch a cold?"
Her cheeks warmed. "You're so—"
"Charming? Handsome?" he interrupted.
"—full of yourself."
He only chuckled and steered her into the festival.
---
They wandered past colorful stalls—candied hawthorn skewers, steamed buns, trinkets carved from jade. Yichen bought her a stick of cotton candy without asking, handing it over with a casual, "You like sweet things, right?"
"How do you even know that?" she asked.
"I pay attention." His gaze lingered a little too long before he looked away.
They stopped to watch a street performer juggle flaming torches. Meiyu was so absorbed she didn't notice Yichen's hand brushing against hers. Once, twice… until his fingers hooked around hers in a loose grip.
She glanced at him. "You could just hold my hand, you know."
"I am," he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
---
Later, they reached the main square where the festival's lantern display lit up the night. Thousands of paper lanterns floated upward, glowing against the deep blue sky. Couples made wishes as they released them, laughter and soft music blending in the air.
"Let's make one," Yichen said, already paying the vendor before she could protest.
He handed her the lantern and a marker. "You write first."
She hesitated. "What should I even wish for?"
"Anything," he said. "But it has to be honest."
After a moment, she scribbled a short line and passed it to him. He read it—May the people I care about always be happy—and his expression softened almost imperceptibly.
Then he took the marker and wrote something quickly, shielding it from her view.
"What did you put?" she asked.
"You'll see when it comes true," he replied with that infuriating half-smile.
They knelt together to light the lantern. Warm air filled it, and slowly it began to rise. Meiyu's eyes followed it into the sky—until she felt a gentle tug at her hand.
When she looked back, Yichen was watching her. Not with his usual smugness, but with a quiet intensity that made her chest tighten.
The lantern drifted higher, and for a heartbeat, it felt like they were the only two people in the crowd.
---
On the walk home, Yichen kept her close, their hands still entwined.
"You had fun?" he asked casually.
"…Yes," she admitted. "Even if you're still impossible."
He smirked. "And you're still mine."
And under the glow of the winter lights, Meiyu decided maybe she didn't mind that at all.