The next morning, the snow that had fallen all through the night had stopped. Outside the window stretched a boundless expanse of white — pure, soft, and dazzlingly beautiful. Inside, the room was warm and hushed, as if wrapped in a tender stillness.
On the large bed draped in pale smoky-blue sheets, Su Yue’s head peeked out from beneath the quilt. Her small face was flushed, her hair a little messy, fine strands clinging to her cheek. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Her whole body ached — not just her waist but even her legs, sore and weak. It was an unmistakable reminder of the night before. Though she had been half-drunk and half-awake, she could still recall the warmth of Jiang Ci’s breath, the closeness between them, and the way their hearts had tangled.
Su Yue moved carefully, her hand instinctively rubbing at her waist. When Jiang Ci had grown too eager last night, he had held her there with a strength that left faint bruises on both sides.
After a while, she propped herself up slightly and lifted her gaze.
What met her eyes was the sharp line of Jiang Ci’s jaw. Shifting her body upward, she turned to face him. He was still asleep, his long lashes casting faint shadows beneath his eyes. His lips, thin and pale beneath his straight nose, were lightly pressed together.
In sleep, the cold arrogance that he carried while awake was gone. The man who often spoke in a teasing, infuriating tone now looked quiet and obedient, almost gentle.
Just then, Jiang Ci moved slightly. Startled, Su Yue quickly shut her eyes, pretending to still be asleep. After a moment of silence, when she heard nothing more, she cautiously opened her eyes again—only to find that he had merely pulled her into his arms and fallen back asleep.
Su Yue let out a slow breath. Thinking of how their relationship had changed overnight, her heart skipped shyly. Her gaze wandered back to Jiang Ci’s face—and she froze.
The scar that had once stretched across the left side of his cheek was… gone.
Su Yue blinked in disbelief. Leaning closer, she studied him carefully. Jiang Ci’s complexion, always fair from years spent indoors, looked even smoother now. The side of his face that had once been marked by the rough scar was flawless, as if it had never existed at all.
She couldn’t help but reach out and lightly trace her fingertip over his skin. The spot that had been scarred now felt smooth and cool to the touch.
What was going on?
Just last night, that scar had still been there—about the size of her palm. And now, after one night, it had completely vanished.
A sudden thought flashed through her mind. Could it be… that their closeness last night had something to do with it?
Before she could think further, Jiang Ci suddenly caught her hand. His fingers curled around hers, bringing her fingertip to his lips. He bit it gently, a teasing nip that sent a tingling heat through her.
Su Yue gasped softly. “A–Aoao, you’re awake?” In her surprise, she momentarily forgot her embarrassment and the question of the missing scar.
Jiang Ci released her delicate fingertips, his lips curving into a faint smile. He turned over, and in one smooth motion, they shifted beneath the quilt—Su Yue pressed beneath him, his weight warm and close.
“Does it still hurt?” His voice, low and hoarse from sleep, carried a lazy magnetism that made her heart tremble.
Su Yue knew what he was asking. She nodded slightly, her face pink. “Mm… it hurts.” Her body still felt sore all over, especially her legs.
“Let me see.” His tone was calm, but before Su Yue could respond, Jiang Ci had already ducked under the quilt.
“Jiang Ci!” she exclaimed, her face turning crimson. She tried to stop him, kicking lightly in protest. She was wearing the nightgown he had helped her put on last night — its hem brushed just above her thighs, leaving her feeling completely exposed. She tried to clamp her legs together, but his strength easily held her in place.
“Don’t move,” came his muffled voice from under the blanket, with a hint of teasing laughter. “I’m just checking if you’re hurt.”
By the time Jiang Ci finally resurfaced, his breathing had grown uneven, and his voice was strained — as though he was restraining something. “It’s a little swollen. I’ll get you some ointment later.”
Su Yue’s face was so red it seemed it could drip blood. “N–no need, it’ll be fine in a few days.” But when she met his dark gaze, which had grown deeper and heavier, her heart pounded uncontrollably.
Even with the scar, she had always thought Jiang Ci was striking. But now, with his face completely healed, his features were almost breathtaking. The sharp lines of his brows and nose, the cool gleam in his eyes, and that unruly, handsome air of his — he looked almost unreal.
Worried he might continue teasing her, Su Yue quickly cupped his face in both hands. “Aoao, your scar—it’s gone!” she blurted, rubbing her thumb along his cheek, fascinated by the smooth skin.
Jiang Ci raised an eyebrow, amused. He seemed to realize the cause almost immediately. Lowering his forehead to rest against hers, he smiled with a hint of arrogance. “Handsome, isn’t it?”
His warm breath brushed her face, making her blush deepen. Her palms grew warm against his skin as she nodded honestly. “Mm, very handsome. Aoao looks really good.”
The men she’d seen before—whether famous actors or charming leading men—none could compare to Jiang Ci in that moment.
Jiang Ci chuckled softly, obviously pleased. His straight nose brushed hers, a teasing touch full of affection. “Xiao Yue’er, I’m so beautiful. Don’t you want to kiss me? Or maybe… taste me?”
Before she could even react, he lowered his head and captured her lips. The kiss was warm and slow, and the quiet room filled again with that faint, breathless tension that lingered like melting snow outside the window.
Meanwhile, in the guest room, Xu Xue had already woken up.
She wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep last night. By the time she stirred, it was almost noon, and on the other side of the bed, Jin Mingyuan was still sleeping deeply.
She had sat for hours in the unheated hall the night before, wrapped in her thin dress. Now her head throbbed faintly, and she realized she must’ve caught a cold.
Dragging herself up, Xu Xue went to the bathroom. She had fallen asleep without removing her makeup, and it had smudged badly. Her foundation was patchy, exposing her sallow complexion beneath. A few small pimples had appeared on her chin — her skin also looked tired and lifeless.
Even her dress was wrinkled. She hadn’t brought any extra clothes or makeup with her; all she could do was wet her comb and smooth down her tangled hair.
After adjusting her reflection in the mirror for a while, she finally forced a faint smile. Even if Jiang Ci wasn’t looking at her, she still wanted to look perfect in his eyes.
Stepping quietly out of the bathroom, Xu Xue glanced at Jin Mingyuan, still asleep, and decided not to wake her. She walked out softly, but as she reached the stairs, the sound of movement from the kitchen caught her attention.
Could it be Su Yue?
Following the sound, Xu Xue arrived at the dining room and was startled to find Su Yue sitting at the table while Jiang Ci was busy in the kitchen.
“Xiaoxue, good morning! I’ve already ordered food — it’ll be here soon. Where’s Mingyuan?” Su Yue greeted with a smile. Her legs were too sore to walk, so Jiang Ci had carried her downstairs himself. He had wanted to bring the food upstairs, but Su Yue thought it would look odd to hide away when her friends were here.
Xu Xue’s gaze swept over Su Yue, her eyes darkening. “Yueyue, good morning. Mingyuan’s still asleep — she drank too much last night. I called her a few times, but she didn’t wake up.”
Su Yue’s complexion was fair, her cheeks carrying a faint, healthy pink. Her eyes shimmered softly, bright like rippling water. She looked radiant — as if the cold morning light itself lingered upon her.
She wore a loose, pale gray sweater dress, giving her a lazy, effortless charm. The neckline hung slightly off one shoulder, revealing the smooth curve of her collarbone. One sleeve was rolled up, showing a slender wrist like carved jade.
Even Xu Xue, who prided herself on her looks, felt an involuntary pang of envy. In front of Su Yue, her own beauty seemed to fade into the background.
How she wished Su Yue still looked as she had before — a little darker, a little plumper, not this luminous and captivating woman who seemed to draw every gaze without trying.
Just then, Jiang Ci walked out of the kitchen carrying a steaming bowl of soup. Though he didn’t usually cook, he had clearly put in the effort this time.
“What’s this?” Su Yue frowned, curious. The broth was thick and fragrant but slightly cloudy.
“Chicken soup,” Jiang Ci said. “It’s for nourishing your blood. I simmered it for over an hour — drink it while it’s hot.” [(In Chinese households, chicken soup is often made to replenish strength after exhaustion or illness.)]
Su Yue’s lips parted in surprise. “What a big bowl! I can’t finish that.”
“I just want you to drink more,” Jiang Ci said simply. “You need to recover.” His rolled-up sleeves revealed his strong forearms, a contrast to the tender care in his tone.
Su Yue blushed, but obediently lifted the spoon and began to blow on the soup before taking a sip.
From the side, Xu Xue watched silently, her heart twisting with a mix of envy and discomfort. Jiang Ci, who had always seemed cold and distant, was now cooking for Su Yue — personally.
Biting her lip, Xu Xue coughed lightly, interrupting the quiet warmth between them.
“Xiaoxue, are you feeling sick?” Su Yue asked with concern. Her voice carried genuine worry.
“Yeah,” Xu Xue said softly. “I probably caught a cold last night. It’s fine — I’ll just drink something warm.”
“The food hasn’t arrived yet. Why not have some soup first?” Su Yue turned to Jiang Ci. “Aoao, is there any left?”
“No,” Jiang Ci replied casually, “I only made one bowl. You drink it.” He pinched Su Yue’s earlobe playfully. “Finish it all.”
Xu Xue’s lips tightened, her face paling. “It’s fine, I’ll drink hot water,” she murmured. Her gaze flicked toward Jiang Ci, and she noticed several small medical patches on his cheek.
“Jiang Ci, what happened to your face?” she asked, concern flickering in her tone. “You weren’t hurt last night, were you?”
Su Yue’s fingers paused on her spoon. “He accidentally scratched himself on the edge of the shelf,” she explained quickly. She had been the one to apply the patches — after all, if his scar suddenly vanished overnight, others would surely suspect something strange.
When she looked up, Su Yue caught the faint tightness in Xu Xue’s expression — a tension that felt strangely off.
Yes, Xu Xue looked… nervous.
And somehow, Su Yue realized that nervousness wasn’t about the soup, or even her cold.
It was about Jiang Ci.