Chapter 53: Christmas Eve, the Lucky Apple

Day by day, time slipped away, and the memory of the hot spring night grew ever more distant. Qin Yichi could never shake the feeling that it hadn’t really happened; that hazy, intimate evening, the heartfelt whisper of “husband,” seemed no more than a dream, an illusion—something that never truly existed. Only when he played the recording and heard Qiao Zhen’s sweet, clear voice did a sense of reality settle in his heart.

Winter was bitterly cold. Yet, each time Qin Yichi wrapped that deep gray scarf around his neck, it was as if warmth returned to the season.

On his phone, her voice from that night played again, tinged with grievance, barely holding back tears as she spoke to herself: “Qin Yichi, I think I’ve always been a rather unlucky person.”

That phrase made his hand pause abruptly. Outside, midnight winds howled and leaves rustled against the window. Qin Yichi sat at his desk, head bowed, carefully writing on his notebook, stroke by deliberate stroke.

December 24th arrived, Christmas Eve descending with winter’s chill. The biting wind stung the skin, and even sunlight carried a trace of coldness. It was a Friday, and the festive mood in the school grew ever stronger.

On Christmas Eve, gifting apples was a gentle way to express friendship—or, sometimes, the bittersweet feelings of a secret crush.

For example, Ji Xian’s desk was already crowded with apples and letters from the girls. His expression was dark, lips pressed into a straight line, dignified yet aloof, the air around him oppressive. The boys beside him shivered, baffled as to why the young master was so angry.

It took them a while to realize—there was nothing. No apple from Qiao Zhen.

For the past two years, Qiao Zhen had always carefully prepared apples and cards for Ji Xian, her eyes shining like stars, hopeful and timid as she looked at him. He would reject or discard the gifts from others, but always accepted hers. That alone made Qiao Zhen endlessly happy.

Just a little bit of kindness, and she was content.

Could someone like her really just disappear?

The boys were silent, timid as quails. Ji Xian nearly lost his composure, struggling to maintain his calm, flawless facade.

He wondered, what gifts had he given? None. Not only to Qiao Zhen, but to anyone. He had never given gifts—he simply took it all for granted, enjoying Qiao Zhen’s devotion.

Even in their past life, during those seven years, it had always been so.

Ji Xian clenched a diamond necklace in his palm, anxiety surging within him, his fingertips turning pale from the pressure.

It was a unique, custom-made luxury piece—a swan of diamond and pearl, worth millions.

It represented “a pure, flawless love.”

If only Qiao Zhen would bow her head, if only she would come back to him, he would give it to her, responding to her love.

Yes, this was his final test. Just a little hesitation, and Qiao Zhen would return.

But—he waited and waited, only to be met by the lonely, biting wind. Qiao Zhen’s apple and blessing never came.

At noon, Qiao Zhen returned to her dorm after training, still wrapped in a thick beige down jacket and a white fluffy scarf. Since passing the online audition for the first Star-Moon Singing Contest, she had spent every day in the music room, preparing for tomorrow’s preliminary round.

There were three rounds in total, all broadcast live.

Her roommates genuinely rejoiced for her, showering her with biscuits, candies, and even specialty treats from their hometowns.

“Zhenzhen, go for it! Make it to the finals!”

Chen Meixiang lifted her chin. “Once you sing, we’ll flood the livestream with praise. If anyone dares speak against you, ha, I’ll report them till they disappear!”

“That’s right, our Zhenzhen is the best,” echoed another.

Qiao Zhen was deeply moved, throwing herself into their arms, choking on her words. “Thank you, it’s so wonderful to have you…”

She was fed a lemon-flavored fizzy candy, obediently holding it in her mouth.

Sweet and tart, its scent lingered lightly.

Yet, Qiao Zhen couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

She propped her cheek with one hand, her lips pressed in frustration.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen a certain Mr. Qin around campus for days.

If only he would appear right in front of her now.

The next moment, her phone chimed unexpectedly with a WeChat notification.

—I’m downstairs at your dorm.

The message from Qin Yichi appeared before her eyes.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Stunned, she held her breath, grabbed a small gift box from her desk, and hurried out.

A strange mix of anticipation, nervousness, and joy wrapped around her like colorful candy wrappers, lightening her footsteps.

He stood not far away, dressed in a black down coat, tall and upright, his features sharp and cold, his presence both wild and unrestrained.

Qiao Zhen walked up beside him, her breath forming a mist in the winter air, slowly fading.

Her tone held a happiness she herself hadn’t noticed. “Why are you here?”

Qin Yichi tucked one hand into his pocket, sounding indifferent. “Just passing by.”

—It’s been a while. I wanted to see you.

Qiao Zhen handed him the apple gift box, her eyes sparkling as she smiled, dimples blooming, her blessing sincere:

“Qin Yichi, eat this apple and you’ll always be safe and smooth in life.”

She had prepared it for him long ago.

Motorcycle racing was a dangerous sport, and Qin Yichi trained almost daily. More than anything, she wished him safety and peace—glory came second.

Life first, competition second.

Qiao Zhen couldn’t remember exactly when they had started exchanging apples every Christmas Eve.

But Qin Yichi remembered clearly.

It was nine years ago, during a winter in elementary school. The class had an “apple exchange” activity.

That day, a student was absent with a fever, so the class ended up with an odd number—one extra person.

And he was the one left out.

Everyone swapped apples and cards, except for him.

He was the worst student, looked fierce, withdrawn and silent, rumors spread that he liked to fight, his arms covered in bruises—a proper troublemaker, so everyone kept their distance.

That day, little Qin Yichi watched them silently, his gaze dark and fierce.

He kept telling himself it didn’t matter, that he didn’t care.

Yes, he didn’t care.

That winter felt especially cold, the wind like knives against his face.

Until—

Qiao Zhen dashed over from another class, openly stuffing his arms with Christmas and Christmas Eve gifts, beaming at him with warmth and sunshine.

Only then did Qin Yichi realize how much he cared—cared more than anything.

Those memories were not always beautiful, but fortunately, a beautiful person had always been by his side.

For so many days, for so many years.

Qin Yichi’s lips curled faintly as he took out a red apple wrapped in reindeer paper from behind him, his voice low and gentle, as if coaxing a child:

“Eat this lucky apple, and you’ll have good fortune. Do you believe it?”

Qiao Zhen took the apple, looking down at the lifelike little reindeer, silent for a long moment.

At last, she tilted her face in suspicion, her eyes sincere as she blinked. “Qin Yichi, do I really look that easy to fool?”

At her words, Qin Yichi let out a muffled laugh, reached out, and gently ruffled her soft, fluffy hair.

“I’m not lying. It’s true.”