On the night when Lin Zhiyao broke off their engagement, Shen Xu lit a cigarette.
Halfway through the smoke, the medical certificate arrived. Lung adenocarcinoma, intermediate stage. The doctor asked "where are the family members?" And he said "no" - she just called, her voice as bright as a star: "Shen Xu, I'm free."
He smiled and opened his hand to pick her up, not letting her see the scar left by the cigarette butt in his palm.
Later that year, she thought her comeback was his countdown. He quit smoking and replaced it with lollipops she bought; she shaved her head to accompany him during chemotherapy, saying, "Two braised eggs make a perfect pair." He closed his eyes after drawing the last picture, which was the window of her study room, marked "You can see snow".
She sorted through her belongings and found seven gifts from people aged thirty to forty years old. The one for those aged thirty is empty. The card says: "I will take you there in person this year. It is invalid."
There was also half a pack of expired cigarettes hidden under the mattress—the half pack he didn't smoke on the night of the heavy snowfall in Altay. She lit one at four o'clock in the morning and choked to tears: "Shen Xu, I'm so stupid, I'm all wet."
The ash fell into the snow, like he was saying good night.
"He taught me that love is a flight towards death. The tunnel is long, but the snow country is beautiful.
Concept: soft spot | sadomasochistic love