Curious, Li Ran wondered: both males, how did they manage? Just going through motions?
He couldn’t help asking his brother beside him: “Does Little Black always air-humping like that feel good?”
As he leaned in to look, Chi Mo held him back, calmly advising not to ruin the couple’s fun. “You’ll know later.”
Li Ran: “Oh, okay.”
In past New Years, Li Ran always went to Bai Qingqing’s home—not alone.
Though Bai Qingqing was Mom, Uncle Zhao wasn’t Dad, and the twin sisters weren’t full blood siblings. Something felt missing: that thick blood bond and years of familial warmth—they lacked it, couldn’t get truly close.
Each visit, Li Ran felt guilty, like an intruder crashing a perfect family of four.
From New Year’s Eve to the second day, the introverted Li Ran always obeyed Bai Qingqing and stayed two days. Envy for her neat family twisted with self-reproach for disrupting their warmth tore him in two, breeding a sense of being a burdensome guest.
But this year, Li Ran didn’t plan to spend New Year at Mom’s. He’d learned to refuse, voicing his thoughts effortlessly.
Grandpa and Grandma were still at Little Uncle’s and hadn’t returned—he’d celebrate there directly. Chi Mo would go too, bringing Li Ran.
Before that, Li Ran would eat a meal at Bai Qingqing’s to mark New Year’s Eve. It had snowed again last night; the sky was leaden gray, the world blinding white. The yard’s evergreens wore thick snow blankets.
Last week, Chi Mo regretted the melted snowman and asked Li Ran to remake it. He refused. Making one now—wouldn’t it be untimely?
Wouldn’t it be too flirtatious?
Was this seducing his brother?
Probably not.
His brother was a gentleman.
“Ge, park the car first,” Li Ran tapped the window, asking Chi Mo to wait before dropping him off. He eyed the snow outside eagerly, pushed the door open, and said, “I’ll make you a little snowman. Wait for me, okay?”
A few minutes later, Li Ran returned holding a small snowman the size of his palm. He handed it to Chi Mo with a bright smile, his breath forming white puffs as he spoke. The outdoor temperature had been low these past couple of days, and in that short time, Li Ran’s hands and cheeks had turned bright red from the cold.
His lips were red too, a luscious crimson.
As if tempting someone to lean in and press against them.
Chi Mo gazed at him deeply, rubbing his fingers together.
He wanted to thrust into his mouth.
…But of course, he didn’t.
Chi Mo carefully took the little snowman and returned to the living room to place it on the bottom shelf of the freezer.
The frozen world without sunlight would be its home from now on.
Li Ran had always taken the subway to Bai Qingqing’s home before—this was the first time Chi Mo was driving him.
It wasn’t clear who had suggested it first, but taking Chi Mo’s car to his mom’s neighborhood felt like the most natural thing in the world.
The one-hour drive with just the two of them didn’t feel long at all. The roads were coated in a crystalline layer like frost flowers from the biting cold, and when the sunlight hit, the leaping reflections danced into the car.
Li Ran captured it perfectly with his raised phone: “Bro, come look at this. I took such a great shot.”
New Year’s Eve was tomorrow. Every year, people flowed into the cities in spring and back home in winter to soothe their homesickness, and by now, they had all arrived.
Their departure had emptied out more than half of this bustling city, leaving the once traffic-jammed streets deserted.
A red light stopped the sparse few cars, and Chi Mo lightly tapped the steering wheel as he turned to look at the photos in Li Ran’s album.
A ray of early sunrise hesitated across the ground, caught by the ice on a roadside puddle. Through a series of optical principles, it shot straight toward the half-open window of the Cullinan.
The “path of light” in the middle was rendered in a rainbow of red, yellow, orange, and green.
Li Ran held his phone with one hand to take the photo, and the image reflected in the rearview mirror, capturing his lower face along with the scenery. The end of the rainbow landed right on his slender hand.
“Send it to me,” Chi Mo said.
He didn’t spend long admiring the photo—just the 60 seconds of the red light—but Li Ran’s thin skin could only withstand about 30 seconds of teasing.
The photo wasn’t just scenery; it included half his face and one hand, full of atmosphere, making him seem so narcissistic. When Chi Mo asked for this particular photo, Li Ran finally felt embarrassed and nearly jumped up. “What do you want it for? Wait, I’ll take an even better landscape one for you later…”
“I want this one. Send it.”
“Oh. Alright.”
When they arrived at Bai Qingqing’s neighborhood, Li Ran realized a dilemma—should he invite Chi Mo upstairs for a family reunion dinner?
New Year was that kind of milestone.
If Bai Qingqing hadn’t remarried, Li Ran would be her “family” son, and Chi Mo deserved a meal after taking care of him for half a year.
But the problem was… in front of Bai Qingqing’s married family, Li Ran was the outsider. Even when he came to see his own mom, he had to consider if he was disturbing Uncle Zhao and his two sisters.
“Bro, maybe I’ll come by myself tomorrow instead. Today, I’m spending it with you.” Li Ran thought about how the house would be empty with no one home, and if he left, Chi Mo would be alone. Chi Mo wasn’t familiar with this area either—what if he had to wander around lonely for a few hours while Li Ran happily ate with his mom?
A coffee shop?
Just thinking about it felt isolating.
Chi Mo knew what he was thinking. He touched Li Ran’s face and chuckled softly. “Tomorrow’s New Year’s. When you come back from your auntie’s, you’re going with me to my side—all plans are under my arrangement.”
“Shen Shu’s around here. He has nowhere to go for New Year and always wanders off at times like this. I need to play host so he doesn’t think we’re all bad guys.” Chi Mo straightened Li Ran’s collar. This kid’s outfit today, from head to toe, had all passed through his hands.
Including his underwear.
He said with satisfaction, “Go on. I’ll pick you up in the afternoon.”
Hearing that Shen Shu was nearby, Li Ran relaxed, leaving most of his worries with Chi Mo in the car and bringing the rest—along with his anticipation—to Bai Qingqing.
Li Ran entered the building carrying the gifts he had bought with Chi Mo, his hands full.
Every door he passed was adorned with festive couplets and New Year paintings, and Bai Qingqing’s door had one too.
The couplets on either side of the door were neat and grand, with gilded characters—clearly store-bought. But the evil-warding New Year painting in the middle didn’t match them at all.
On the square red paper in the center was a cat—either squatting or curling up in a rather acrobatic pose. Its eyes were like spinning fire wheels, round and mismatched in size, looking just like it was begging for a swat with its winking and blinking. Its ears were like inverted bowls covering its entire head, making one wonder if it could even hear. The tail swung from behind to the front, probably meant to look lazy and casual, but the tip—twice as thick as the base—poked straight into the cat’s big mouth.
Li Ran thought seriously: sometimes he and Chi Mo’s Black Cat forgot their tails existed, treating them like cat toys and chasing them in circles until they spun like tops. It only made them look cute, not stupid… This evil-warding painting nearly “warded off” him, a human, right at the door.
Only when Bai Qingqing heard the doorbell and rushed to open it did Li Ran tear his gaze away from the “visual feast.” He replayed his bro’s face in his mind eighteen times to recover.
“You’re here, Xiao Ran. Your sister drew it with a brush—isn’t it super cute?” Bai Qingqing noticed his gaze and boasted proudly.
Li Ran cringed inwardly but kept a straight face, having learned to lie through his teeth without batting an eye. “Yeah, cute.”
He asked as if seeking guidance, “Which sister drew it?”
“Both sisters together!”
Their artistic talent had died young in these two geniuses—a rare sight. Li Ran nodded quickly. “Really cute.”
Bai Qingqing said, “Right? Haha, your dad and I… Old Zhao and I are discussing sending them to art classes next year. To keep these two little demons from causing chaos at home and driving us crazy.”
“Look at you, coming empty-handed is fine—why bring stuff?” Bai Qingqing took some things from Li Ran’s hands but not all, complaining nonstop while her mouth kept smiling.
Li Ran came in and changed shoes. “These are what my bro… I mean, Mr. Chi, and I bought at the supermarket yesterday. I said it was too much, but he insisted that no matter how much I buy for Mom, it’s all deserved. We had to bring them.”
“Oh my, this kid’s young but accomplished, and such a smooth talker too. Look at you—learn from him quick.” Bai Qingqing beamed.
“I’m learning,” Li Ran said softly. “…I’ve learned a lot already.”
Li Ran lived far away—a two-plus-hour subway ride, faster by car—but he always arrived around mealtime, like he was specifically freeloading. His “meal freeloader” status hadn’t changed in years; it was rock-solid.
Uncle Zhao’s head chef role had been equally steady. As Li Ran entered the living room and bent to pick up a chubby sister to weigh her, Uncle Zhao emerged from the kitchen in an apron, wielding a spatula. “You’re here. Sit down quick.”
“Got it, Uncle.”
They used to be equally awkward. Today, Li Ran seemed like a different person. His response to Uncle Zhao wasn’t much different, but he was far more at ease—no stiff limbs. In contrast, Uncle Zhao still looked uncomfortable.
