In fact, Wei Changchuan’s first reaction upon seeing Min Shu was anger.

He himself could survive being trapped in the wind and snow for days and nights without issue, but Min Shu was too frail. If they’d been trapped in the storm together, his body might have gone cold within a few hours.

So when he grabbed the young man, he was furious. Yet in that very instant, he suddenly realized they were not far from the cave entrance. With his eyesight, he could even make out the faint glow of warmth emanating from the entrance through the wind and snow.

The scenery around him hadn’t changed at all; the wind and snow were still howling in his ears. Yet, in that single instant, everything returned to normal. In that moment, as Wei Changchuan gazed at the faint glow of the cave in the distance, he experienced a momentary disorientation, even doubting whether his recent ordeal of losing his way in the blizzard had been nothing more than a hallucination.

In the warm cave, Wei Changchuan looked at Min Shu’s face, oblivious to everything under the lamplight, and suddenly had a feeling—if it hadn’t been for Min Shu calling out to him, he might never have made it out of the storm.

“Bro, what’s wrong?” Seeing the man staring at him, Min Shu felt a bit embarrassed and looked away. “A-are you hungry? I’ll get you something to eat.”

In the lamplight, the young man’s hair and temples were jet-black, his cheek delicate and flushed with a faint blush. He seemed a bit shy, and his smile carried a touch of youthful timidity.

Wei Changchuan’s eyebrows twitched, and he abruptly looked away, lowering his gaze. “No need to trouble yourself.”

“Oh, come on.” Min Shu grinned widely. “Bro, why are you being so formal with me?” With that, he reached into the pile of supplies and pulled out a box of cookies. “Bro, have these to tide you over.”

The cave was brightly lit by the whale oil lamp, and the water had just come to a boil. Min Shu opened a packet of instant noodles and dropped the noodle block and seasoning into the pot. The hot water as it dissolved the seasoning, and the aroma of chicken stewed with mushrooms immediately filled the air.

Thinking of Wei Changchuan’s appetite, Min Shu cooked two packets at once and even sliced a precious sausage into the pot, creating a steaming bowl of deluxe instant noodles.

Conditions in the glacier were rudimentary, and with no spare bowls, Wei Changchuan had no choice but to eat straight from the pot. But he wasn’t bothered by the heat; he held the pot and slurped a few times, and half the pot was gone.

Watching from the side, Min Shu couldn’t help but admire Wei Changchuan’s consistently hearty appetite—he could make even instant noodles look so delicious.

Watching the man slurp his noodles, Min Shu started to feel a bit hungry himself, so he casually grabbed a piece of chocolate to eat. The sweet, milky flavor of the chocolate spread across his tongue. He had barely eaten half a piece when his eyelids began to droop.

He’d been worried for half the night and had struggled through the snow, which had taken a toll on his energy; eating something sweet had made him drowsy. Wei Changchuan went outside to wash the pot with snowmelt and returned to find Min Shu already asleep.

The young man lay slumped on the fur blanket, his soft black hair spilling across his face. Wrapped in his coat, he slept soundly, still clutching a piece of chocolate in his hand.

Wei Changchuan paused, set down the pot, took a few steps closer, and bent down to take the chocolate from the young man’s hand.

The foil wrapper was half-peeled back, and the top right corner had been bitten off—not even a single square had been eaten. The surface of the chocolate bore the young man’s teeth marks, a tiny circle.

“Like a little mouse had nibbled at it,” Wei Changchuan thought to himself.

Whenever moments like this arose, an indescribable sense of pity welled up within him. This emotion carried no personal attachment; it was more like an instinctive reflex that humans feel when encountering something far weaker than themselves.

Yet it was this ordinary, even frail-looking young man who had saved his life twice. Wei Changchuan stood by the lamp for a moment before lowering his head to pick up the leftover chocolate and tuck it into his pocket.

He found a dry fur blanket and wrapped Min Shu in it. Then, he took off his outer robe, still covered in frost and snow, lay down beside the young man, and held him—blanket and all—close to his chest.

Min Shu was fast asleep and didn’t wake up; he only felt something warm suddenly wrap around him. He hummed softly in his sleep, instinctively moving closer to the source of warmth, finding a comfortable spot in Wei Changchuan’s embrace, and soon fell back into a deep sleep.

Min Shu was exhausted today and slept deeply. His slightly pale lips were slightly parted, with a few crumbs of chocolate still clinging to the corners. Wei Changchuan noticed this, reached out to wipe the corner of the young man’s mouth, licked his fingertip, and then closed his own eyes.

The next day, the wind and snow had cleared, and the sun shone down on the snow.

Sunlight streamed through the cave entrance, reflecting off the ice walls in a kaleidoscope of light that fell upon Min Shu’s face. His eyelashes fluttered slightly; he furrowed his brow, slowly coming to, and squinted against the glaring sunlight.

The whale oil lamp in the ice cave had gone out. Min Shu opened his eyes to find himself lying on a fur rug, with no one else nearby.

A chill ran through Min Shu’s heart. He sat up and reached out to touch the fur beside him, feeling that it was still warm. Just then, a voice came from behind him: “Awake?”

Min Shu froze, then turned to see Wei Changchuan walking in, carrying a pot filled with melted snow. He wasn’t wearing his outer robe, only his black military uniform, with a pair of black patent leather boots on his feet; his figure was tall and straight.

Seeing him, Min Shu let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.

The memory of the man leaving without a word was still fresh in his mind. Although Min Shu believed Wei Changchuan wouldn’t have left him alone on the glacier, he still felt a momentary pang of anxiety when he woke up and didn’t see him.

As Wei Changchuan walked in and placed the pot filled with snow on the gas stove, Min Shu pulled his fur cloak tighter around himself and leaned in, saying:

“Bro, you’re up really early today.”

Min Shu had been living with Wei Changchuan for so many days now; he knew the man slept soundly. Usually, Min Shu was the first to wake up, while Wei Changchuan was still fast asleep—sometimes, even a call wouldn’t rouse him.

Upon hearing this, Wei Changchuan glanced at him but said nothing.

He wasn’t an early riser; he simply hadn’t slept at all. This glacier was too dangerous, and he needed to stay alert. Yet, for some reason, he always slept like a log when he was with Min Shu, so Wei Changchuan decided not to sleep at all and simply lay there holding Min Shu all night.

But staying awake for a single day was no big deal for an Immune.

Wei Changchuan rinsed the handkerchief in the warm water in the pot, wrung it out, and said to Min Shu: “Come here.”

Min Shu watched Wei Changchuan’s movements, his mouth agape in surprise. The man was holding a handkerchief with a white background and black border, featuring a simple design, with a tiny “W” embroidered in the corner—it looked like his personal item.

I-Is he going to wash my face with this?

“What’s wrong?” Seeing his reaction, Wei Changchuan seemed to have misunderstood and said, “I haven’t used this one yet.”

Min Shu stammered, “No, that’s not what I meant—”

Wei Changchuan furrowed his brow, seemingly losing patience with the young man’s dithering. He reached out, pinched his chin, and pressed the warm cloth against the young man’s face.

Min Shu felt the warm cloth brush against his eyebrows and eyes, and instinctively closed his eyes:

“Ugh!”

Wei Changchuan was genuinely washing his face, his technique very skilled. He scrubbed hard in areas prone to dirt, like the corners of the eyes, though he was a bit too forceful, reminding Min Shu of the old men and women in the courtyard next to the orphanage who used to wash their faces with their own cats.

When the cloth left his face, Min Shu took the chance to catch his breath. He saw Wei Changchuan rinse the cloth in warm water and say to him, “Look up.”

Min Shu obediently lifted his head. Wei Changchuan wiped his neck, then cleaned his hands. Next, he boiled more water and used the lid of a thermos to let him rinse his mouth.

Only after Min Shu had been thoroughly cleaned from head to toe was he set aside, a piece of yesterday’s leftover chocolate stuffed into his hand. He felt like a child shooed off to the side by an adult during a flurry of activity, left to sit there eating snacks while watching Wei Changchuan tidy up.

Was he… being taken care of?

In all his years, Min Shu had never been taken care of by anyone else. The orphanage was understaffed, so more often than not, the older children looked after the younger ones. Due to his physical condition, Min Shu had never been adopted. As children his age were adopted one by one, he became one of the oldest there and consequently took on the responsibility of caring for his younger siblings.

This had made Min Shu very industrious; sometimes, even when he had nothing to do, he felt restless, and when he was alone, he always wanted to wipe this down or tidy that up.

So watching Wei Changchuan bustling about while he had nothing to do made Min Shu feel a bit out of place.

Holding a piece of chocolate, he ate while watching Wei Changchuan organize the supplies, occasionally looking away to glance around, then pretending to glance casually in Wei Changchuan’s direction.

When Wei Changchuan finished tying the supplies with rope and turned around, Min Shu immediately averted his gaze, pretending to look at the icicles hanging from the cave entrance.

In the icy cave filled with a biting chill, a thin sheen of sweat had formed on Wei Changchuan’s forehead. Holding his jacket in one hand, he placed the packed supplies outside the cave. When he turned back, he saw Min Shu huddled in the corner, eating chocolate.

He walked over, picked up the fur coat from the floor, and glanced sideways at the young man.

The young man had his head down, curled up in a ball, and was licking the chocolate bit by bit with the tip of his pink tongue.

He wasn’t biting it—just licking it. He hadn’t managed to eat even a tiny bit after all this time.

Wei Changchuan paused with the fur in his hand: “…Don’t you want to eat the chocolate?”

“Huh?” Min Shu hadn’t expected him to speak so suddenly; he looked up in surprise, then realized what was happening and explained, “Oh, this is a little hard—”

It was just an ordinary brand of chocolate. The temperature in the glacier was too low, and after being frozen solid all night, it would be hard to bite into unless she licked it to soften it a bit.

Hearing this, Wei Changchuan raised his eyebrows slightly, then nodded and bent down to tidy up the fur in his hands.

Min Shu, sitting beside him, suddenly felt a bit flushed for some reason. He lowered his head and popped the chocolate into her mouth. He thought to himself, This guy just does what he does—why is he watching me? And smiling? It’s making me feel self-conscious even while I’m eating.

After a brief rest, the two set out from the cave, preparing for the return journey.

Before leaving the glacier, Wei Changchuan wanted to take a look back at the spot where he’d gotten lost the day before. He’d originally planned to go alone, but Min Shu said he was curious too, so the two of them went together.

It was a beautiful, sunny day. Under the azure sky, the glacier stood silently, glowing with a faint blue light; the scene was so beautiful it seemed almost unreal.

It had just snowed yesterday, and the sunlight reflecting off the pristine white snow cast a nearly blinding white glow. Just looking at the snow made Min Shu’s eyes sting slightly; he had to shield his eyes with his hand and follow behind Wei Changchuan with his head bowed.

The soft, powdery snow seemed to absorb all sound, leaving the surroundings utterly silent—the only sound was the crunch of their footsteps on the snow.

Min Shu stared at the snow on the ground, lost in thought. Since Wei Changchuan was leading the way, he hadn’t been paying attention to the path. In the next instant, Wei Changchuan, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped, causing Min Shu to bump into his back.

“Bro, what’s wrong?”

Min Shu rubbed his forehead and looked up in surprise. He had thought they would be walking for a long time—why had they stopped so suddenly?

Wei Changchuan stood with his back to him, saying nothing. Min Shu found this odd. He peered over Wei’s shoulder to look ahead, then froze in shock. Not far away, on the snowy ground, lay a series of intricate, crisscrossing footprints.

The snow had stopped falling in the middle of the night, so the footprints on the snow had been preserved. Each indentation first formed an irregular zigzag pattern, then converged into a circle at the center, one overlapping the other. It was clear that the person who had left these tracks had completely lost their bearings and had been wandering aimlessly in this small patch of ground. Some of the tracks were already close to the cliff’s edge; a single misstep could send them plummeting into the glacier’s crevasse.

Just looking at them made Min Shu’s heart race.

Suddenly, he stiffened and turned to look back in the direction they had come from—this spot was less than a hundred meters from the cave where they had spent the night.

…Had Wei Changchuan really gotten lost this close to the cave entrance?

At that thought, Min Shu was startled, and a sudden chill ran up his spine.

“Brother…” Min Shu looked up at Wei Changchuan, who had been silent since a moment ago: “W-what’s going on?”

His voice was a little soft, and the end of his sentence trembled slightly.

As if sensing the fear in his voice, Wei Changchuan turned back and placed a hand on his shoulder: “It’s okay.”

Min Shu turned around, following the pressure of his hand, and Wei Changchuan led him away from the glacier.

Min Shu felt uneasy. After walking a short distance, he wanted to look back, but Wei Changchuan’s hand on his shoulder prevented him from doing so. Wei Changchuan kept his arm around Min Shu’s shoulders, showing not the slightest tremor. Min Shu turned his head and saw that the man’s expression was calm; the shadow of his hat brim fell across his brows and eyes, and his gaze was as cold as a winter star.