Wen Zheye was an orphan. The year he dragged his beat-up suitcase, wrapped in duct tape, into Jinghua University, his grandmother had just passed away. He thought he could survive by burying himself in his studies. His roommate, Song Zhiyao, was his only family in Beijing.
Someone set their sights on him simply because they'd said he was better-looking than Song Qingci. Song Qingci's fiance, Qi Xingyuan, started pursuing him. Wen Zheye knew it was nothing but a passing fancy, a man high above everyone else wanting to try a different flavor.
But he never imagined that when he and Song Zhiyao accidentally caught Song Qingci cheating, and Song Zhiyao filmed it, and Song Qingci fell to his knees begging them to delete the video, this "accident" would cost Song Zhiyao his life.
Song Qingci fabricated the evidence. Qi Xingyuan believed him.
Three years later, Wen Zheye finally got the truth, his revenge, and the ending everyone deserved. Song Qingci went mad, and Qi Xingyuan publicly called off his engagement at a press conference. Wen Zheye left, returned to Qin City, and opened a small bookstore, thinking he could finally start over.
Qi Xingyuan came after him. On Wen Zheye's birthday, as heavy snow fell, he stood outside with a cake and flowers. Wen Zheye threw them away. Qi Xingyuan fell to his knees and crawled toward him one step at a time.
"I've taken care of everything."
He celebrated Wen Zheye's birthday, lit the candles, and cut the cake. At last, he brought out the ring.
Wen Zheye took it and closed his hand around it. He didn't put it on, and he didn't say anything.
Qi Xingyuan smiled and looked down at Wen Zheye's clenched fingers. The ring dug into his palm. He was gripping it too tightly.
"There's still a long future ahead of us."
He gathered Wen Zheye's hand and the ring in his own, his voice soft.
"Step by step."
Wen Zheye felt him lean closer. A light kiss landed at the corner of his mouth. He didn't pull away.
Wounds that have festered for years don't heal easily. But life goes on. Take it slowly.
Theme: After breaking every bone, love is still willing to bend down and pick up the pieces.
