To celebrate the New Year, Min Shu had prepared dumplings in advance, using flour and pork provided by the base. Unfortunately, there was no Chinese chive, so he couldn’t make the classic chive-and-pork filling; instead, he used cabbage as a substitute.

When it came time to eat the dumplings, the two didn’t dine in the dining room as they usually did. Instead, to create a more festive atmosphere, they set up a small table in front of the TV in the living room.

An old Spring Festival Gala videotape was playing on TV—perfect for the occasion—and Min Shu watched the show while eating his dumplings. Just as the sketch segment came on, he burst out laughing:

“Hahahahaha—”

But his joy quickly turned to misery, and his “hahahaha” turned into “cough cough cough.”

Min Shu nearly choked to death on the dumpling filling and frantically grabbed a glass of water to drink. Wei Changchuan looked up at him from across the table, furrowing his brow: “Don’t watch TV while you’re eating.”

Min Shu composed himself, wiped the tears that had welled up in the corners of his eyes, and said, “But today is New Year’s Eve, you know—” He added softly, “It’s no fun without the Spring Festival Gala.”

Wei Changchuan glanced at him, turned away, picked up the remote, and fast-forwarded the video to the song-and-dance performances.

Min Shu didn’t really like watching the song-and-dance performances, but, intimidated by Wei Changchuan’s authority, he didn’t dare make any further requests and quietly began eating his dumplings.

After finishing the New Year’s Eve dinner, Min Shu went to the kitchen, arranged the cookies, nuts, candies, chocolates provided by the base, along with the small cakes he’d baked himself earlier, on a plate, and brought it out. Although there weren’t the various traditional pastries typically eaten during the Spring Festival, these would have to do.

The Spring Festival Gala was playing in the living room. Min Shu sat cross-legged on the carpet, leaning against Wei Changchuan’s warm chest, and picked up a pistachio to shell.

Wei Changchuan wasn’t watching the gala, but he didn’t mind just sitting there with him like this. He held Min Shu between his legs, his arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders, his cheek resting against the young man’s soft hair, his eyes half-closed.

Min Shu shelled a whole kernel, raised his hand to bring it to Wei Changchuan’s lips, and Wei Changchuan opened his eyes slightly to take a bite and swallow it. The two of them quietly shared the peaceful night like this, the scent of the same body wash wafting through the air from both of them.

Wei Changchuan was almost drifting off to sleep in this peaceful, warm atmosphere. If the other immune individuals at the base had seen him like this, they would surely have been astonished, saying that falling in love had completely changed his appearance—transforming him from an unfeeling “soldier” into a handsome, homebody boyfriend.

After a while, Min Shu’s slightly excited voice suddenly rang out: “Bro, the aurora’s out!” Hearing this, Wei Changchuan opened his eyes and turned his head toward the window.

Against the pitch-black night sky, the pale snowfields stretched to the far horizon, and the deep blue aurora was so vivid that it was clearly visible to the naked eye, like a colorful, luminous ribbon floating in the air.

Although Min Shu had seen the aurora many times during his days living alone on the isolated island, he was still unconsciously drawn to its wondrous beauty every time he witnessed it.

“Let’s go out and take a look,” Min Shu suggested cheerfully.

Wei Changchuan, of course, had no objection, so the two of them got dressed and walked out into the yard. A few sled dogs, hearing their owners’ movements, ran out of their kennels, surrounding Min Shu and Wei Changchuan and barking excitedly.

“Good dogs,” Min Shu said, petting their heads as he leaned back into Wei Changchuan’s embrace and looked up at the shimmering, shifting colors on the horizon. Today was New Year’s Eve. Although there were no firecrackers to set off, watching the aurora was quite nice. Life had been kind to him—he was alive, had heating, and a boyfriend. In the winter of his 27th year, Min Shu felt truly happy.

So he turned his head and, beaming with joy, shared his happiness with Wei Changchuan: “Bro, I’m so happy.”

Wei Changchuan lowered his eyes amid the sky full of auroras, his gaze resting on Min Shu’s face, which was aglow with a smile. As usual, the young man was bundled up like a snowball; the fur on his felt hat trembled slightly in the wind, revealing Min Shu’s sparkling eyes beneath.

Wei Changchuan almost lost himself in those eyes. They stood before the majestic aurora, with their warm, glowing love nest behind them and the endless snowy plains stretching out in the distance.

Everything was gentle and beautiful, as if the apocalypse had never happened and no danger lay ahead—only he and Min Shu, sharing words of love on this long winter night.

Wei Changchuan was like a traveler reluctant to wake from a beautiful dream; he slowly closed his eyes, lowered his head to plant a kiss on the corner of his lover’s lips, and murmured, “Me too.”

During the polar night, there was no such thing as keeping vigil; to maintain a regular schedule in the darkness where day and night blurred, the two went to bed as they usually did.

The next day was the first day of the Lunar New Year. According to custom, they had to eat tangyuan for breakfast.

Min Shu went to the kitchen as soon as he woke up. The tangyuan had been prepared the day before; since there was no sesame at home, he used the peanuts and brown sugar provided in the supplies to make the filling.

First, he took the vacuum-sealed peanuts out and roasted them in the oven. After grinding them into a powder, he added melted butter and brown sugar. The warm fat fully brought out the aroma of the roasted nuts, creating a sweet, paste-like filling. He then let it cool in the refrigerator before wrapping it in glutinous rice and rolling it into round shapes—and the tangyuan were ready.

Min Shu lowered his head, watching the white, round tangyuan swirl and gurgle in the scalding hot water, occasionally stirring them with a ladle. Wei Changchuan was washing bedsheets in the basement; the rumbling sound of the old washing machine traveled through the floor to the upstairs apartment.

Min Shu watched the tangyuan gradually rise to the surface of the pot, then suddenly raised his hand to touch the side of his face—there was a faint tooth mark there.

Last night, for some reason, Wei Changchuan seemed particularly aroused. After they’d both showered and slipped into bed, he’d been pressing against him the whole time, unable to calm down.

Min Shu eventually couldn’t stand it anymore and offered to help him. This time—perhaps because he simply couldn’t hold back any longer—Wei Changchuan didn’t refuse him.

As a result, that “helping out” lasted well into the early hours of the morning. Because of it, he ended up sleeping in today.

As soon as Min Shu thought about it, he felt a slight ache in the hand holding the spoon.

Eventually, when he really couldn’t take it anymore, Wei Changchuan took over. Min Shu lay there quietly, occasionally getting a quick kiss from the man as he leaned in. He didn’t dare to arouse Wei Changchuan too much, so he didn’t dare to move or speak. But perhaps it was precisely because he was being so well-behaved that, at the very end, Wei Changchuan couldn’t hold back and bit his cheek.

When Min Shu recalled the look in Wei Changchuan’s eyes at that moment, he felt a chill run down his spine. He was truly grateful now that they couldn’t actually do anything. Yesterday, he hadn’t even dared to glance downward…

Just then, he heard footsteps behind him.

Min Shu shuddered and quickly lowered his head to scoop the cooked tangyuan into a bowl. When he turned back, he saw Wei Changchuan standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, wearing only a short-sleeved shirt—the arm that had clung tightly to him last night was exposed.

Min Shu didn’t dare look at him; he kept his head down as he walked toward the door, but was stopped just as he reached it. Wei Changchuan reached out and took the bowl of tangyuan: “Let me do it.”

Min Shu watched silently as he took the bowl, then followed him to the dining room and sat down. The two sat facing each other and began eating the tangyuan.

The tangyuan tasted wonderful. When he bit into the delicate, fragrant, and soft glutinous rice skin, the brown sugar and peanut filling oozed out, and the aroma of nuts mixed with oil spread across his lips and teeth—it was exceptionally sweet and fragrant.

Min Shu was blowing on the tangyuan on his spoon to cool it down when he happened to glance up. He saw Wei Changchuan, sitting across from him, open his mouth and bite through the tangyuan’s skin in one go, as if he weren’t afraid of the heat. Min Shu’s hand twitched involuntarily.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that yesterday, the man had treated him just like a tangyuan to be bitten into. So brutal, Min Shu thought, curling his lips in a silent pout.

“What are you doing?” Before he could say anything, Wei Changchuan had already noticed his little gesture: “Upset?”

Caught red-handed making that little face, Min Shu looked up at Wei Changchuan, feeling a bit awkward. The man returned his gaze calmly, completely at ease, as if he’d completely forgotten what he’d done yesterday.

He didn’t know why Wei Changchuan could act so self-righteous. Previously, Wei Changchuan had always treated him with great care, as if he were some kind of fragile glass object. How had he suddenly become so aggressive last night? Groping him, squeezing him, pinning him down—

Min Shu glanced at him, a hint of resentment in his eyes: “…Why did you act like that yesterday, bro?” He muttered a complaint: “Didn’t we agree to keep it platonic?”

Wei Changchuan swallowed a tangyuan; his Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “I couldn’t help myself.”

Min Shu looked at him, pursed his lips, and thought to himself, You’ve always been able to control yourself before. Why can’t you now? However, Wei Changchuan seemed to read his mind: “It’s your own fault for always teasing me.”

Min Shu:……

How had he provoked him again?

Min Shu glared at Wei Changchuan. The man’s face was expressionless, yet he looked utterly infuriating.

Min Shu took a furious bite of the tangyuan. The gooey filling burst out and instantly stuck to his tongue:

“Ouch!” Min Shu nearly jumped up from the scalding heat: “Ugh! Water, water—!”

Seeing this, Wei Changchuan tutted, got up to fetch some water, and held it to his lips. Min Shu drank directly from his hand in big gulps, sweat beading on his forehead.

Wei Changchuan scolded him, “You make such a fuss just eating a meal.”

Min Shu drank a lot of water before he started to feel better, but he couldn’t help sticking out the tip of his tongue and exhaling: “It hurts so much—” The next moment, a hand grabbed the tip of his tongue. Min Shu’s eyes widened slightly as he was forced to stick his tongue out even further. Wei Changchuan lowered his gaze and examined the surface of his tongue: “It’s red, but there are no blisters.”

He then let go.

Only then did Min Shu pull his tongue back, covering his mouth as he stared in shock at the person in front of him. Wei Changchuan, however, remained calm and composed. As if nothing had happened, he turned around, fetched an ice cube, and returned: “Hold this in your mouth.”

This time, Min Shu didn’t even dare open his mouth. He reached out to take the ice cube and held it between his teeth, silently holding his breath, not daring to lift his head.

Fortunately, after giving him the ice cube, Wei Changchuan went off to the kitchen to wash bowls. Only after he had walked far enough away did Min Shu dare to lift his head and glance at him a couple of times. He felt that the aggression radiating from Wei Changchuan seemed to be gradually becoming a little more.

Although Wei Changchuan had been a bit harsh before, he’d always been restrained in both attitude and behavior. But as they’d lived together longer, something seemed to have changed in him—his former caution and restraint appeared to be gradually slipping away, while his harshness had only intensified.

It was as if he’d been bottling things up for too long and was now sexually frustrated.

Min Shu’s face flushed slightly as he looked down and ate his tangyuan, feeling a mix of guilt and unease—he had a feeling Wei Changchuan wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Just then, however, a sound suddenly came from the kitchen—a sizzling electrical hum—and the sound of running water in the back kitchen stopped.

Min Shu looked up and saw Wei Changchuan with one hand pressed against the faucet and the other holding a communicator—it seemed a message had come in from the base.

Min Shu’s heart immediately sank. He quietly peeked out, but he was too far away to make out what Wei Changchuan was saying. The conversation didn’t last long; less than five minutes later, Wei Changchuan hung up and turned to walk back over.

Min Shu hurriedly asked him, “Bro, is there news from the base?”

“Mm-hmm.” Wei Changchuan nodded, his expression calm, and said directly to Min Shu, “The base sent word that there’s been significant progress in the research on the virus samples found in the glacier, and they need more samples.”

“Really?” Upon hearing this, Min Shu’s first reaction was one of delight: “The research is making progress? That’s great.”

But he quickly realized something: “…Wait a minute, bro, did you say they need more samples?” Wei Changchuan walked over, resting one hand on the back of a chair, and looked down at Min Shu.

Min Shu glanced at him, then turned his head to look out the window at the boundless night sky. He suddenly turned back, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at Wei Changchuan:

“Bro, you’re not planning to head to the glacier right now, are you?”

Greenland was still shrouded in the polar night, with pitch-black darkness all around. Gales carrying blizzards would sweep across the ice sheet from time to time, with wind speeds reaching up to 10 meters per second at their peak. Not to mention walking on the slippery ice—it would be difficult for an ordinary person to even stand there.

At a time like this, to head to the glacier—where the weather is most unpredictable?! Wei Changchuan stood there, saying nothing.

Min Shu read his tacit approval from his expression; his face immediately fell, and he sprang to his feet from his chair:

“No way!” Min Shu said, frowning. “Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous to go now. It’s pitch black out there—we can’t see a thing—and the weather’s terrible.”

“In any case, we have to wait another two months—until the polar night is over.”

He said, his tone slightly urgent.

Wei Changchuan still said nothing. Looking at Min Shu—who was frowning, biting his lip, and looking somewhat tense—he reached out and took his hand: “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll go by myself this time.”

Min Shu panicked the moment he heard this. He yanked his hand away from Wei Changchuan’s grip and looked up, exclaiming, “Go where? Last time you turned into a block of frozen meat—you were stiff as a board, lying right at my doorstep. And you still want to go?”

Wei Changchuan：……

Apparently not expecting Min Shu to get in his face, Wei Changchuan fell into a rare moment of silence—and, crucially, he couldn’t seem to find a rebuttal.

The strange phenomena he’d encountered near the glacier last time were still fresh in his mind: the unpredictable weather, the sudden storms, losing his bearings in the blizzard, and going in circles as if trapped in a loop. Even for someone like Wei Changchuan—an Immune with such tenacious vitality—these eerie occurrences were no small matter.

Seeing that he didn’t argue, Min Shu said, both anxious and angry, “You’re not allowed to go. If you try to leave, I won’t open the door for you!” Let him turn into a block of frozen meat again—he can just stay out there in the snow and freeze to death!

Seeing the young man’s face flush with anger, Wei Changchuan decided not to press the issue. Instead, he comforted him, “Don’t get so worked up—it’s not like I have to go today.”

Min Shu stood there panting, his chest heaving up and down. Wei Changchuan gently guided him back to his seat, but he still frowned, his lips pressed tightly together, his forehead covered in beads of sweat from his agitation.

Seeing this, Wei Changchuan got up and went into the bedroom. When he returned, he was holding a towel dampened with warm water. He wiped the sweat from Min Shu’s face, then raised his hand to brush back the slightly disheveled hair on his forehead:

“Calm down.”

Min Shu was breathing slightly rapidly but said nothing. Wei Changchuan sat down as well, pulling him into his arms. His hand moved firmly across Min Shu’s back as he comforted him:

“Don’t be afraid.”

After staying like this for a while, Min Shu calmed down somewhat, and his breathing slowed. As the urgent anger in his chest subsided, he belatedly realized the severity of the plague raging outside. There were so few survivors, and out of fear of infection, they were all forced to huddle in the pitch-black underground. Without a vaccine, if anything unexpected were to happen, even the few remaining people might not be saved…

If a vaccine could be developed, no one else would get infected.

As Min Shu thought this, he suddenly felt uneasy. What if his interference delayed the progress of vaccine development? But going to the glacier at a time like this was truly dangerous…

Min Shu was torn inside. As if sensing his inner conflict, Wei Changchuan patted him on the back, kissed him on the cheek, and whispered reassuringly, “Don’t overthink it.”

Min Shu nodded listlessly, but he couldn’t help overthinking it. That night, he tossed and turned in bed for a long time, unable to fall asleep.

Wei Changchuan lay beside him, letting him toss and turn on the bed like a pancake. Finally, as Min Shu let out his tenth sigh and tried to roll over again, Wei Changchuan reached out and pulled him close.

“Stop tossing and turning.” Wei Changchuan wrapped his arms around Min Shu’s waist and pulled him close, then leaned down to kiss the slightly sweaty corner of his forehead:

“Can’t sleep?”

Min Shu rolled over with the motion, wrapped his arms around Wei Changchuan, and rubbed his face against the man’s chest. He let out a muffled “Mm-hmm,” then suddenly lifted his head and said, “Bro, I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe we should just go.”

Hearing this, Wei Changchuan paused and turned to look at him.

Min Shu lifted his eyes to meet Wei Changchuan’s gaze and said earnestly, “But I want to go too.”

Wei Chang furrowed his brow and replied almost without thinking, “No.”

“Why not?” Min Shu moved a little closer to him and said, “I’ll do the same as last time—I’ll just wait for you inside the cave. I know the way, and besides, with the two of us, we can look out for each other if anything happens.”

He recalled the last time Wei Changchuan had gotten lost in the glacier. You never know with things like that—if he hadn’t called out to him, who knows how long Wei Changchuan would have kept circling in the same spot.

Wei Changchuan still frowned, looking as though he wasn’t entirely convinced. But he didn’t say anything; he simply raised his hand to run it through Min Shu’s hair and pulled him closer. “Go to sleep.”

Min Shu knew Wei Changchuan wouldn’t agree right away, so he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he found a comfortable spot in Wei Changchuan’s arms, leaned against the man’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and said, “If you disappear without saying a word again… we’re breaking up.”

Immediately afterward, he felt the body he was leaning against stiffen, and the man’s hand on his shoulder tightened. Min Shu was actually a little nervous himself—this was the first time he’d ever made such a bold threat to Wei Changchuan—but thinking back to the last time he’d opened his eyes to find the house completely empty, he still felt a lingering sense of dread.

Fortunately, Wei Changchuan fell silent for a moment. The grip of his arm around Min Shu gradually loosened, and he whispered, “I understand.”

Back then, he’d been able to leave without a word because Min Shu was just a stranger living alone on a small island. But at some point, the warmth of life at the Chinese restaurant had tied the traveler’s feet to the ground, making it impossible for him to walk away. So Wei Changchuan made a promise: “I won’t leave.” Then he held Min Shu a little tighter: “Sleep soundly.”

With that assurance, Min Shu let out a sigh of relief and finally drifted off to sleep.

Perhaps because he was worrying too much, Min Shu didn’t sleep very soundly that night. He had several dreams—in one, he woke up to find Wei Changchuan gone; in another, he and Wei Changchuan were trapped together in a glacier.

After an unknown amount of time, Min Shu suddenly felt a chill in his sleep.

This was very unusual for Min Shu. Due to the bitterly cold climate, heating in Greenland was always plentiful; sometimes, even when sleeping indoors under the covers in winter, he would feel too hot. Not to mention that ever since Wei Changchuan had arrived, he’d been like a human heater—every time they went to sleep, he’d hold Min Shu tightly, and his slightly higher-than-average body temperature would keep Min Shu warm from head to toe, working even better than an electric blanket.

However, for some reason, it was exceptionally cold that night.

As Min Shu drifted off to sleep, the icy chill began to spread from his feet, then to his calves, then to his arms, until his whole body began to feel a faint chill. Min Shu couldn’t help but pull the blanket tighter around herself, furrowing his brow slightly in discomfort as his eyelashes began to flutter restlessly.

After a while, the cold woke him up completely.

The moment he opened his eyes, Min Shu shivered from the cold and realized the room was completely devoid of its usual warmth—it felt as cold as an ice cellar.

The blanket was still covering him just fine, but the warmth had vanished from beneath it; the fabric, usually soft and warm, now felt ice-cold against his skin. Min Shu frowned, wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, and sat up, instinctively looking to see if a window had been left open somewhere.

But just then, he realized Wei Changchuan wasn’t by his side.

Min Shu froze, his heart sinking. He reached out to feel the bed, only to find his hand met with ice-coldness.

“Where is he?” Min Shu looked up, a touch of panic in his voice. Fortunately, as he turned his head, he saw Wei Changchuan walking in from outside.

“Awake?” Wei Changchuan—who had gotten up at some point—was holding a thick fur-lined coat. He walked over to the bed and helped Min Shu put it on.

“Mm-hmm.” Min Shu nodded, lifting his arm as Wei Changchuan helped him. “Brother, where did you go? It’s so cold in here—did you leave the window open?”

Wei Changchuan didn’t answer. He helped him put on the fur-lined coat and, after making sure all the buttons were fastened, sat down beside the bed.

Min Shu looked up as he moved and, in the moonlight, noticed that the outer corners of Wei Changchuan’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and his expression was somewhat serious.

“The heating’s out,” he said.