“Having you here to watch the stars with me this winter makes the cold feel a little less bitter.”
On the first day of school, Lin Xingchen smashed her camera on a plane-tree-lined path and stumbled into Lu Yubai’s world. He was the Finance Department’s famously aloof heartthrob, a regular at the observatory, and, they said, hadn’t smiled at a girl in three years. She was a naive freshman in the Journalism Department, carrying a camera and bright-eyed.
They were forced to become project partners. He was as meticulous as a precision instrument; she was as earnest as a fearless young calf. They clashed from their very first meeting, yet shared their true feelings during long late-night conversations on WeChat.
He taught her to identify Orion and told her that every star had a story. She discovered that beneath his cold exterior was a tenderness for stray cats, along with a deep longing for his younger brother, who had died too soon.
On the night of the first snowfall, he stood at the observatory entrance, hesitating to speak. The next morning, after the snow, he waited outside her dorm with warm soy milk. “About last night… I’m sorry. Would you like to go stargazing tonight? To make it up to you.”
Beneath the stars, he finally said the words he’d been late to say: “Having you here to watch them with me makes the cold feel a little less bitter.”
From autumn to winter, from strangers to something more. This is a story of two people growing together: she learns to see what’s real beyond the lens, and he learns to let himself love again after loss. As Orion rises in the winter night, a certain warmth is drawing near.
A sweet campus romance about healing and growing up, a clash of two top students, and a realistic coming-of-age story, for everyone who believes in stars and love.
