For Yan Qi, the word “birthday” had long since become a distant concept.

The disaster that struck his hometown didn’t happen overnight; it wasn’t as though a single year of drought had driven people to the point of digging up grass roots and chewing tree bark, ultimately forcing them to leave their homes.

At least going back three years, they hadn’t had a proper meal in all that time.

And even in good years, celebrating a birthday amounted to nothing more than a bowl of white noodles topped with a fried egg.

“After tomorrow, I’ll be nineteen.”

Yan Qi guessed that Huo Ling must have prepared a gift for him, though he had no idea what it was; whatever it was, he was happy.

In the past, he’d thought that once he turned fifteen, he’d be an adult—ready to marry, have children, and spend his life tending to a household just like his grandparents and parents.

Later, due to drought and fleeing the disaster, everything turned into a mess. Families could barely manage to fill their own bellies, let alone welcome another mouth to feed into the household, and so his marriage plans were put on hold.

He vaguely remembered when he first left his hometown to head north, his parents had joked that once they reached the frontier, they’d find Yan Qi, a man from beyond the Great Wall.

Now that this had come true, the marriage that had been put off all those years had, after many twists and turns, turned out for the best. It was just a pity that his parents weren’t blessed enough to see it with their own eyes. Lost in thought, he stared blankly ahead, his eyes wide open, showing no sign of sleepiness.

“Aren’t you sleepy yet?”

A whisper sounded in his ear, and Yan Qi replied instinctively, “Not really… Did I wake you?” Huo Ling shook his head.

Though he didn’t know why the ger was lost in thought, his own drowsiness had grown even lighter. He’d planned to hide the bracelet under the pillow while the other slept—why would he fall asleep now?

Since the long night held no sleep, he might as well do something to burn off some energy.

Fingers calloused from work brushed across his chest, moving downward toward his lower abdomen. Wherever they touched, shivers rippled through him, and Yan Qi’s breathing became erratic. Huo Ling’s loose strands of hair brushed against Yan Qi’s neck and cheek. As they drew closer and closer, Yan Qi—for some reason—was suddenly overcome by an impulse: he gently bit down on the tip of Huo Ling’s straight, upturned nose.

Huo Ling froze, apparently taken aback, but after a moment, he broke into a smile.

He nudged Yan Qi’s nose with his own, still slightly damp, moving cautiously, as if they were two small animals huddling together for warmth in the snowy winter night.

The last time Yan Qi had seen such nose-to-nose nudging was between Heidou and Mantou.

Perhaps because of this beginning, or perhaps because tomorrow was Yan Qi’s birthday, their lovemaking tonight was exceptionally tender—so tender it felt almost too slow.

In the past, Yan Qi had always been unable to withstand Huo Ling’s strength, but today, he realized that slow and steady was another kind of tormenting tactic.

Indeed, men are naturally more experienced than gers; even when it’s their first time making love, they always know how to make one relax bit by bit, until one finally melts into a pool of warm water.

Just as moisture welled up in the corners of his eyes, Huo Ling’s lips pressed against them, his tongue gently licking away that faint trace of saltiness. After several rounds of passion, Yan Qi’s wandering thoughts vanished entirely. He washed up in a hurry, then fell asleep immediately, only to open his eyes to find it was already broad daylight. His waist and legs felt like a wooden door that hadn’t been maintained in years, creaking and groaning with every movement.

He rolled over, intending to lie face down with the pillow in his arms. As he did so, his hands naturally reached beneath the pillow; the buckwheat hulls rustled, but he felt something strange underneath.

He never kept things under his pillow. He had once placed a wooden hairpin there, only to accidentally crush it one time; since then, Yan Qi had learned his lesson.

But the thing he pulled out from under the pillow today was a small embroidered pouch. Just by touching it, he could guess what was inside. Ignoring his aching back and stiff waist, Yan Qi sat up with a start, clutching the pouch in his hand, but didn’t open it for a long while.

Huo Ling had been waiting outside the door for quite some time, still holding the little black bean—the puppy that had just been nibbling at his shoe by his feet—in his arms.

He had originally thought that once Yan Qi woke up and found the bracelet, he would surely get out of bed and come out of the room. He was waiting here just to give the ger a surprise, but no matter how long he waited, no one came.

He had clearly heard the sounds of someone waking up inside just a moment ago. Could he have misheard it? Was the person still asleep?

Huo Ling furrowed his brow slightly and held up a finger to the puppy wriggling in his arms.

“Shh.”

He pressed the dog’s head into his shirt with one hand and gently pushed the door open a crack.

“Squeak—”

Just then, the wooden door—which had been oiled only two months ago—decided to make a scene, letting out a sudden creak.

The person on the kang looked up at the sound, first seeing Huo Ling, then the little white-pawed puppy in his arms.

Huo Ling, in turn, immediately noticed the pouch in Yan Qi’s hand. Their eyes met, and for a moment neither spoke, yet a thousand words were already hidden within that silent gaze.

“Woof!”

Heidou let out a bark, and immediately afterward, the heads of two large dogs squeezed through the door crack. The silence was broken, and the two of them, caught between laughter and exasperation, closed the door and shooed the dogs away.

Dager and Huang Yae had just stepped outside and tracked in a pawful of snow. The room was warm, and once the snow melted, it left wet paw prints mixed with mud on the floor—a nightmare to clean up.

Only Heidou was allowed inside because its paws hadn’t touched the snow. Huo Ling set it down on the floor, letting it wander about freely, while he sat on the edge of the kang.

“Why don’t you open it up and take a look?”

Yan Qi pursed his lips. “I was just about to open it… when you walked in.”

Under Huo Ling’s watchful gaze, he opened the pouch. Inside was indeed a beautiful, delicate silver bracelet. A few months ago, he had tried on his elder sister-in-law’s; now he had one of his own.

“Here, let me help you put it on.”

Following the silver shop clerk’s instructions, Huo Ling took one of Yan Qi’s handkerchiefs and wrapped it around the ger’s wrist before slipping the bracelet on.

The bracelet caught slightly at the widest part of his wrist, then slid on smoothly.

The silver bracelet truly made the wrist look delicate; the bracelet was silvery and bright, the wrist white and slender. Huo Ling felt his breath catch for a moment.

“What made you decide to buy this?” Yan Qi asked in a low voice, “It’s quite expensive, isn’t it?”

His mother had once owned a bracelet, slightly thinner than this one, which his grandmother had given her when his father married her. Going back even further, it had been part of his grandmother’s dowry when she was young.

A single slender silver bracelet had been passed down through three generations. Even with occasional polishing, its luster had faded. When disaster struck, it was quickly pawned—originally as a redeemable pawn, with the hope of buying it back once money was available. Little did they know that in the end, not only was the bracelet lost, but the person behind it was gone forever.

“It’s cheaper than I expected.”

Huo Ling spoke frankly, “I actually wanted to have a wider one made, but the shop assistant said your wrist is slender and a wider one wouldn’t look good.” Huo Ling cradled Yan Qi’s wrist in his hands, gazing at it for a long time, unable to get enough of the sight.

“I was thinking of saving that silver to have a new bracelet made later, or perhaps a hairpin.”

Yan Qi smiled faintly. “I work all day long—how could I possibly wear bracelets on both wrists?” 

“Why not? You can wear one on the left and one on the right.”

It was rare for Huo Ling to speak so childishly, and Yan Qi could tell he was genuinely delighted—and he himself was no different.

Back in their hometown, many families would only give decent jewelry to a newlywed couple once they’d had a son.

“Do you like it?”

Huo Ling asked again.

“It’s beautiful. I really like it.”

Yan Qi gently shook his wrist. He raised his hand, and the bracelet slid down, disappearing into his sleeve. As their breaths entwined, the air around them grew thin…

Afterward, only his slightly flushed, moist lips bore witness to what had indeed just happened.

Yan Qi nudged Huo Ling. “Go out first. I need to change.”

“You’re changing, and you won’t let me watch?”

Huo Ling seemed to have his feet glued to the floor; he refused to leave. Of course, he could be seen—just not by Huo Ling.

Right now, he was like a piece of wood in the dry, parched air—one touch and he’d catch fire.

So in the end, Huo Ling was “ruthlessly” shooed out the door. Yan Qi changed into a proper outfit, washed up with the water Huo Ling had specially brought into the room, and finally stepped out the door.

Four dogs—two large and two small—surrounded him, acting as if they hadn’t seen him in a year.

“Brother Qi, happy birthday!” 

“Uncle, you’re up!”

That day, Yan Qi ate birthday noodles topped with two eggs and a chicken drumstick. He received a silver bracelet from Huo Ling, a red envelope from his older brother, and a rabbit-fur wrist warmer sewn by his sister-in-law.

Huo Ying also gave him a clay figurine of a rabbit god—Yan Qi had seen it before; it was one of the little girl’s treasures. From childhood to now, this was the first time he’d ever celebrated a birthday like this.

That dreamlike feeling lingered into the night. When it was time to change, he didn’t send Huo Ling away again. And once his outer garments were off, his undergarments soon followed.

On the kang lay a freshly aired cotton quilt; the two of them lay upon it, entwined for a long time.

“Clink, clink.”

Wearing the bracelet for the first time while selling buns at the stall, Yan Qi felt quite uncomfortable. Every time he raised his hand, the bracelet would bump into this or that, making him worry sick.

“I’d better take it off. It really is a hassle to wear while working. Even though it won’t fall off, if it gets scratched, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“It’s not that easy to damage. If that really happens, I’ll go find them at the silversmith’s.”

Huo Ling wouldn’t let him take it off. “Once you’ve worn it for a while, you’ll forget it’s even there. You’ll get used to it.”

Yan Qi couldn’t argue with him, so he had no choice but to keep wearing it. And it was true—once he got really busy, he didn’t have time to pay attention to the clinking and clanking.

“Do your buns come with meat filling now?”

Today was the first day they were selling pork and scallion buns. As usual, after setting up the stall, the two of them first pan-fried a few, stood behind the stove eating them, then sent a few to the neighboring vendors. Everyone ate together, serving as a living advertisement.

The aroma of hot buns goes a long way, and it’s quite distinct from the scent of buns or dumplings—anyone with a keen sense of smell could pick it out instantly.

Soon, someone followed the scent over and asked, double-checking, “Is this right? Are you the ones who used to sell only chive and mixed-seafood buns?” 

The man asked cautiously, “Don’t you only set up shop on the first and fifteenth of the month?”

“That’s us, no mistake.”

Huo Ling found the man before him a bit odd—asking so many questions right off the bat. He took a half-step forward without showing his thoughts and replied politely, “We used to come only on the first and fifteenth because we mainly run a mountain-trading business. Once we go into the mountains, we only come down once every half-month. Now that the mountain is closed for the snow season, as long as it doesn’t snow, we’ll set up our stall and sell buns.”

Hearing his explanation, the man looked down and saw that there were indeed some mountain produce items displayed next to the bun stall. He nodded and said, “I just love your family’s buns. I came once before, but after that I’ve been so busy—I’ve had to ask others to buy them for me whenever they go to the market.”

At this point, he said angrily, “You don’t come around much, so you probably don’t know this, but ever since your oil-filled bun business took off, several other bun stalls have popped up in town. They use charcoal stoves and iron pans just like you do, and they sell chive buns too. Last time I had someone buy five for me, and that chive filling was as tough as my great-grandmother’s calluses!”

“Hah…”

The familiar-looking man selling brooms nearby had once again hit the jackpot today and gotten to taste a meat-filled pancake. He’d just swallowed the last bite and was unscrewing his water skin to take a drink when he heard that remark. It made him spit out a mouthful of water, and he coughed frantically, exclaiming, “I say, brother, that’s a bit too crude!”

“Pfft, if it weren’t crude, it wouldn’t get the point across!”

The man chimed in enthusiastically, “If you don’t know, you should take a stroll around when you have a chance. I’ve heard that whenever anyone asks if they’re the ones selling buns at the City God Temple, they all say yes.”

Huo Ling and Yan Qi remained relatively calm. After all, any business could be imitated, and making buns wasn’t exactly a difficult craft—it wasn’t as if they had a monopoly on selling them.

Still, the man’s warning was certainly helpful. Having come only twice over the past month—staying just one day each time—they were unaware of many of the town’s goings-on.

And because so many people were craving those buns, opportunists had managed to slip through the cracks.

“Thanks, brother. Here, take these two meat buns—they’re on us.”

Yan Qi didn’t yet know what the man wanted to buy or how many, but he had already deftly wrapped up two steaming buns and handed them over. The man kept waving his hands. “No, no, how much is each one? I can’t take advantage of this.”

“This isn’t taking advantage. If you hadn’t mentioned it, we wouldn’t have known.”

After a brief tussle with Huo Ling, the man finally accepted the buns. After tasting one, he generously bought four of each—meat-filled and vegetarian—and walked away carrying them, his arms full. As a result, those who gathered around hoping to buy some had no choice but to patiently wait for the next batch.