Chapter 64: Leaning on Each Other, a Joyful New Year's Eve

After a hot bath at home, every cell in Qiao Zhen’s body felt warm and cozy; it was the most wonderful feeling. Bathing in winter was truly one of the happiest pleasures. After applying a light jasmine-scented body lotion, she carefully placed a mask on her face—after all, she was going to Qin Yichi’s house for New Year’s Eve… No, it wasn’t for Qin Yichi that she did all this. Not at all!

Once she had dried her hair and calmed herself, Qiao Zhen went to the kitchen to tinker for a while, making a small Oreo cake. She remembered how much Qin Yichi liked Oreo-flavored treats…

When everything was ready, Qiao Zhen carried the little cake to Qin Yichi’s home, preparing to spend a New Year’s Eve with just the two of them.

Around ten o’clock, the New Year’s Eve galas had begun on every major TV channel, hosts beaming with smiles. Qiao Zhen sank into the soft gray sofa, yawning lazily, feeling as comfortable as if she were in her own house—perhaps even more at ease.

The heater was on, blowing warm air, but Qin Yichi still draped a small blanket over her, sitting beside her and quietly keeping her company as they watched TV. They weren’t sitting particularly close; there was even space for another person between them.

On the TV screen, an idol group was performing their new song on stage, dazzling lights and brilliance everywhere. It seemed to be a new boy band formed from this year’s talent show, ten members in total, each with a different style: the aloof and ascetic type, the youthful puppy-like type, the gentle and jade-like type, the seductive flamboyant type, the steady and domineering type…

“Ahhhhh!” Fans below screamed, waving light sticks in wild excitement.

In the next instant, at the musical climax, the ten boy idols suddenly lifted their white shirts, showing off their sexy abs to the camera while executing stylish waves and hip-thrusts.

Qin Yichi: “…”

He wasn’t interested in showbiz, nor did he care much for celebrities. He merely turned his head slightly to look at Qiao Zhen.

But Qiao Zhen seemed completely absorbed, unmoving, not even blinking.

Qin Yichi clenched his teeth silently.

After a moment’s contemplation, he cut a small slice of Oreo cake, handed it to Qiao Zhen, and interrupted her focus: “Eat.”

Qiao Zhen snapped out of it immediately, took the cake, and her gaze no longer lingered on the TV. She looked down, concentrating on eating.

Only then did Qin Yichi lean back against the sofa, satisfied.

The boy band’s performance soon ended, replaced by a classic singer singing old songs.

Qiao Zhen had to admit the ten idols had impressive physiques, but… but she hadn’t really paid much attention to them. Instead, images of Qin Yichi’s superior build flooded her mind.

Especially since the real person was sitting right beside her, less than a meter away. Oh, help…

Was she really so shallow?

The more Qiao Zhen thought about it, the worse she felt. She lowered her head and silently ate cake, hiding the fluttering in her heart.

Outside, mist and snow swirled, resembling shredded clouds settling silently into the dark night.

The New Year’s gala was a bit dull; by eleven o’clock, Qiao Zhen was already drowsy, her eyelids as heavy as iron.

So sleepy. She couldn’t hold on.

Her consciousness blurred as she slowly tilted her head to the right…

Qin Yichi turned to look at her sleepy expression. His body reacted faster than his mind.

He inched closer, almost touching her, but always left a narrow gap.

Until—

Qiao Zhen’s head rested on his left shoulder.

Time seemed to freeze in that moment, leaving only the gentle rhythm of Qiao Zhen’s breathing magnified in his ear.

Qin Yichi lowered the TV volume, letting the room sink into quiet.

The New Year’s gala held no interest for him.

He glanced down, his eyes shadowed and unreadable, gazing at the girl resting quietly on his shoulder. She was so well-behaved, her cheeks pale and delicate, eyelashes thick and softly curled, her breathing steady.

A faint scent of jasmine lingered about her, gentle and serene.

She must have just bathed, wearing a cream-colored nightgown with a loose neckline that had slipped to one side.

In Qin Yichi’s eyes, a fiery blaze rolled, his breathing growing heavy and his Adam’s apple bobbing restlessly.

From his vantage, he could easily see the expanse of snowy softness before her…

Round and inviting, like a ripe peach.

Caught off guard by the sight, Qin Yichi stiffened, quickly averting his gaze, suppressing the wild heat inside.

He should respect her, he should forget these thoughts…

But a single glance swept him away, the image flooding in like a tidal wave, playing in his mind frame by frame, looping endlessly.

Like vines growing unchecked, impossible to restrain.

His heart hammered wildly, threatening to burst from his chest.

And Qiao Zhen, leaning closer, her soft body almost pressed against his arm, murmured softly: “Mmm, Qin Yichi…”

Awake?

He lowered his head, but the girl’s eyes were still closed, lost in sleep.

She seemed troubled by a nightmare, her lashes trembling, brows furrowing, her voice aggrieved and pitiful: “No… I don’t want it.”

Qin Yichi’s shoulder supported her head, his expression solemn as he comforted her quietly: “I’m here, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m scared,” Qiao Zhen’s cheeks tinged with pink.

Her voice grew even more plaintive, as if suffering a great grievance: “It’s too rough…”

Qin Yichi: ?

A look of disbelief flickered in his eyes, his thoughts drifting into ambiguous territory, making his whole body burn.

Impossible.

Qiao Zhen was so innocent—how could she dream of such things… It must be his own imagination.

He exhaled slowly.

Seeing Qiao Zhen about to wake up, he considered for a moment, then gradually closed his own eyes.

On TV, the gala rolled from one segment to another. Now several popular actresses joined hands in a singing number.

Qiao Zhen startled awake—

She opened her eyes abruptly, realizing something was pressed close beside her. She turned to find Qin Yichi sitting right next to her.

They hadn’t been this close before, had they?

Qiao Zhen instinctively scooted away, her breath unsteady, mind in a jumble, covering her face with both hands.

She had dreamed again—memories from her past life with Qin Yichi.

Oh, goodness, it was so embarrassing…

Thank goodness Qin Yichi hadn’t shared the dream, or it would have been mortifying.

Dizzy, Qiao Zhen furtively glanced at him.

Qin Yichi’s eyes were closed, his head tilted slightly toward her, his breathing even, as if asleep.

With his eyes shut, the rebellious intensity faded from him, leaving him looking even more lonely and forlorn.

Like a discarded, pitiful big dog.

Qiao Zhen was stunned. She couldn’t quite explain it, but her body acted on its own, drawn as if bewitched, silently returning to her previous spot, nestling beside him.

She deliberately used her own shoulder to support Qin Yichi’s drifting head.

The boy’s body stiffened, then after a moment, relaxed into steady breathing.

It wasn’t until Qin Yichi’s hot breath brushed her ear and neck, sending tingles through her, that Qiao Zhen suddenly snapped out of it.

Wait, what was she doing…

But it was too late to move now—she might wake him.

Qiao Zhen pressed her lips together, bearing a weight she never expected, and soon her right arm was numb.

But she didn’t dare move.

Not at all.

Qiao Zhen stared resolutely at the television, upright and focused, her gaze as solemn as a party member’s vow.

Yet she absorbed nothing from the gala; her mind was a chaotic mess.

She didn’t notice Qin Yichi’s lips curling into a quiet smile in the shadows…

It wasn’t until fireworks crackled outside that Qin Yichi opened his eyes and sat up straight: “Qiao Zhen.”

Qiao Zhen looked up at him as she rubbed her sore shoulder. “Hmm?”

The TV gala was already in its final countdown, all the guests on stage chanting in unison: “Three! Two! One…”

At the same time, Qin Yichi’s voice sounded in her ear: “Happy New Year.”

Qiao Zhen’s heart raced wildly, her lips curving into a smile. “Mm, Happy New Year’s Day!”

Snowflakes danced, fireworks bloomed. The cozy little house brimmed with ambiguous warmth.

Winter, it seemed, could be very warm.

Hearing the commotion outside, Qiao Zhen obediently leaned against the windowsill, excitedly pointing at the fireworks in the sky: “Qin Yichi, look!”

The brilliant fireworks were reflected in the girl’s eyes.

Qin Yichi stood beside her, reaching out to ruffle her hair, his voice low and gentle: “Mm, I see.”

Fireworks blazed, streaking through the night and lighting it almost as bright as day, their explosive sounds echoing.

Qiao Zhen’s heart beat wildly in rhythm.

Every year from now on, she would cross into the new year together with Qin Yichi…