The next day, the two stared at each other.

Wei Changchuan, with his handsome features, flashed a look of surprise in his eyes, then nervously, inch by inch, slid his hands off Min Shu’s waist. He glanced at Min Shu, then looked back at the scattered clothes on the ground: “…Did I do it again yesterday?”

Min Shu was already somewhat numb to it and spoke up first: “Bro, don’t worry about it.”

Wei Changchuan fell silent. His brow was furrowed, his short hair tousled from sleep, and his expression was one of confusion. But it had to be said: even when a handsome guy wakes up without washing his face, he’s still handsome. Right now, Wei Changchuan looked like a lion whose head had been knocked out by a rock—even his bewildered expression was sexy.

Min Shu glared at him, then slowly and despairingly lowered her head.

After sharing a bed with such a stunningly handsome man for two nights, he hadn’t shown the slightest reaction.

Min Shu was at his wits’ end.

He was sure that erectile dysfunction wasn’t listed among his two pages’ worth of congenital conditions, was it?

It was like a bolt from the blue for Min Shu—he was still just a little chick who hadn’t even been kissed yet! How… how could this be happening?? Min Shu was devastated; he spent the entire morning looking gloomy and listless.

For breakfast, he had vegetable and pork congee, along with the mutton buns he’d wrapped and frozen earlier, plus a few tea-leaf eggs that had been braised yesterday and left to marinate overnight. Yet Min Shu had no appetite; he ate just one tea-leaf egg and half a mutton bun before putting his chopsticks down.

His expression was gloomy as he stared at himself with his head bowed. Could it be that he wasn’t attracted to Wei Changchuan’s type?

Min Shu pondered this as he quietly lifted his head, just in time to see Wei Changchuan take a big bite out of his bun, his cheeks slightly puffed out. His hair was still uncombed, a tangled mass of thick, jet-black strands standing on end. His brows were slightly furrowed as he ate, and with each chew, the contours of his jaw and neck moved in unison, making one’s mouth water.

Not because of the bun.

Min Shu: …Aaaahhh!!

If he couldn’t even react to such a sexy, handsome guy, he was probably really beyond hope!!

Min Shu raised his hand and smacked his forehead with a loud “smack,” unwilling to face reality, utterly desperate, and feeling like he might as well die.

A man without his XX—what’s the difference between him and a piece of dried fish?!

Just then, the man’s deep voice rang out: “What’s wrong?”

Min Shu snapped his head up, trying to cover up his embarrassment: “N-nothing, haha…”

Wei Changchuan looked at him, then glanced at the plate in front of the young man that had barely been touched, and furrowed his brow. Just as Min Shu was observing him, he was observing Min Shu as well.

This young man seemed ordinary, yet there was something peculiar about him in every way.

He lived alone in a remote polar town, was extremely frail, and suffered from more than one congenital condition, yet he had managed to survive in one of the world’s harshest environments.

Strangest of all, for some reason, he felt an innate sense of closeness toward this young man. During the day, when he was awake, he could barely restrain himself, but once he fell asleep at night, he seemed to be driven entirely by instinct, unconsciously drawing closer to the young man time and time again.

Wei Changchuan had never experienced anything like this before. He was always on edge, a light sleeper who would wake at the slightest sound. Yet, whenever he was near the young man, he would quickly fall into a deep sleep.

Wei Changchuan didn’t like this feeling of losing control over his own body. Yet Min Shu looked so utterly harmless.

Before him, the young man wore a thick sweater, yet his frame still looked frail. Only his cheeks held a bit of flesh, and when he smiled, he looked quite sunny.

Now that the smile had faded from his face, his pointed chin looked even more isolated. His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, like frost-kissed baby bok choy. The only lively feature on his face was his almond-shaped eyes with faint double eyelids; their clear, translucent irises would turn up at the corners when he smiled, giving him a hint of mischief.

Now, with his brows and eyes drooping, he looked nothing but pitiful.

It’s no exaggeration to say that if Min Shu had been dropped into an old neighborhood before the apocalypse, the middle-aged women there would have each cooked him a pot of pork stew.

Perhaps it was his hero complex at work, but as Wei Changchuan looked at his pitiful appearance, the doubts in his heart gradually faded, though his brow furrowed ever deeper.

He lowered his eyes, glanced at Min Shu’s plate, and suddenly reached out to nudge it toward him. “Eat some more.”

Min Shu looked down and glanced listlessly at her plate. “I can’t eat anymore.”

Wei Changchuan heard this but said nothing; he simply cleared away the remaining food, yet he didn’t take the plate in front of Min Shu.

He stood up with the bowls in hand and paused as he passed Min Shu: “Finish eating before I’m done washing the bowls.” Then he walked into the kitchen.

Min Shu had been in a daze from the blow, but this snapped him right back to his senses. The man’s deep voice sent a chill down his spine, making Min Shu feel as if the principal’s face had suddenly appeared in the small window at the back door while he was slacking off during high school evening study hall.

Min Shu sat up straight in an instant and wolfed down the remaining half of the steamed bun in no time.

The sound of splashing water filled the kitchen. A few minutes later, Wei Changchuan walked back and took away the empty plate in front of him.

Min Shu watched the man’s broad-shouldered, long-legged silhouette and suddenly realized why she hadn’t felt anything. Wei Changchuan was so intimidating—he didn’t seem like a boyfriend, but more like her father.

No wonder he hadn’t reacted.

Min Shu managed to cheer himself up. When Wei Changchuan emerged from the kitchen, he saw that the young man had suddenly transformed into a beaming, sunny version of himself.

“Bro, I’m going into town to check on the chicken coop.” As he spoke, Min Shu struggled to pull a pair of fur-lined pants over his legs. “Are you coming with me?”

Wei Changchuan looked at him, then at the howling wind and snow outside, and nodded.

Due to year-round ice and snow, Greenland historically had no livestock or crop farming. It was only in modern times, with the introduction of agricultural methods such as greenhouses and plastic tunnels, that the island began raising some animals and growing vegetables.

“Wasn’t global warming supposed to be a serious problem before?” Min Shu said as he trudged through the snow, one foot sinking deeper than the other. “Back then, grass could grow in many places during the summer, so people raised pigs, cows, and sheep. But later, it got too cold, and they couldn’t keep them anymore.”

The town used to have greenhouses and plastic tunnels for growing cold-tolerant vegetables, but as the residents left and the weather grew colder, the tunnels fell into disuse. Now, only the farm sheds used for raising poultry and livestock remain.

As Min Shu spoke, he reached out and pulled open the barn door, and a warm breeze washed over him.

All the farm sheds on Greenland are heated, which is why the livestock can survive the cold winter.

Min Shu’s resources were limited, so he had only rented two pens: the one on the left for chickens, and the one on the right for a few imported miniature pigs. Why not raise full-sized pigs? Because Min Shu knew he wouldn’t be able to hold the pig down when it came time to slaughter it, and besides, he couldn’t possibly eat that much pork.

However, when Min Shu walked up to his pen, he saw several hens huddled in a corner brooding over their eggs, while a rooster lay on the ground, already stiff.

Min Shu paused in surprise: “Another one froze to death.”

Wei Changchuan walked over and stood behind him.

Min Shu stood there for a moment before letting out a slow sigh. He stepped into the pen and pulled a few fresh eggs from under the hens:

“Thank goodness it wasn’t a hen that froze to death.” Min Shu placed the eggs into the cloth bag he carried with him and muttered, “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have any eggs to eat.”

He stepped out, and Wei Changchuan took the bag, glancing into the pen next to them: “Slaughter the pig.”

Min Shu followed his gaze and saw the lone little pot-bellied pig curled up in the corner of the pen, motionless for a long time. The only sign that it was still alive was the occasional tremor of its belly.

Min Shu sighed again and nodded. “Slaughter it.”

If they killed it now, they could still eat the fresh meat; wait another day, and they’d be stuck with frozen, stinky pork.

So Min Shu sat down to one side, tucking his sleeves into his jacket, and watched as Wei Changchuan swung his knife with a swift, decisive stroke, dispatching the little pot-bellied pig. The piglet managed only a half-squeal before it went still. Wei Changchuan deftly held the pig down to bleed it out, then cut it into small pieces by cut; the entire process took less than half an hour.

To avoid getting his clothes dirty, Wei Changchuan wore only a vest. Min Shu sat up straight as he watched Wei Changchuan walk over, carrying the butcher’s knife in one hand and a bag of pork in the other.

“Bro—” As he drew near, Min Shu flashed a flattering smile and chuckled twice. “So, what exactly do you do for a living?” Wei Changchuan glanced at him but didn’t answer, instead looking down to wash the knife.

Seeing this, Min Shu fell silent for a moment, but couldn’t help but quietly move a little closer and whisper: “Is it legal?”

Wei Changchuan paused in his knife-cleaning, raised his eyes, and the glint of the blade flashed in his deep, dark pupils.

Min Shu immediately backed down, sliding on his knees to apologize: “Bro, I was wrong.”

He tucked his neck in and blinked at Wei Changchuan: “Bro, you’re so dignified and upright—you must have a respectable job. You’re clearly a law-abiding citizen. Bro, I believe in you one hundred percent!”

Only then did Wei Changchuan look away. He finished washing the knife, grabbed the eggs and pork in one hand and Min Shu in the other, and walked out of the farm shed.

The island’s wind and snow howled past them. The walk from the granary to the Chinese restaurant was into the wind, and the cold gusts cut into their faces like knives. Hiding behind Wei Changchuan, Min Shu shivered uncontrollably, her right hand clutching the hem of his fluttering coat as she peered out at the gray-white world ahead.

“It’s so cold—is this even livable?”

Min Shu said, shivering.

At the height of global warming, the world was deeply concerned about the impact of rising sea levels. Yet some residents of Greenland actually welcomed these changes. Warmer summers and more grasslands allowed them to raise more livestock and grow more vegetables, making this polar island more livable.

In recent years, however, the island’s weather has grown increasingly cold, and the ice sheet has expanded. By this summer, only the snow on the land within ten feet of the shoreline had melted. The expansion of the permafrost made vegetable cultivation impossible, and livestock lost their forage. Residents migrated south in droves, leaving the town a ghost town.

The island seemed to have returned to its original state: cold, lonely, and barren.

Min Shu buried his face in his fur collar and muttered, “Once we finish this one, we won’t even have pork left to eat.”

Once the chickens were all dead, he would have no choice but to go hunting. Min Shu’s fishing skills were mediocre at best; he felt that starvation wouldn’t be far off.

In the howling cold wind, he clutched Wei Changchuan’s coat hem, tugged gently, and couldn’t help but ask:

“Brother, can’t you really take me with you when you leave?”

Wei Changchuan’s footsteps faltered, but he still didn’t answer. Suddenly, he turned around, grabbed Min Shu’s arm, and pulled him close, wrapping his body around him. The man’s body heat was intense, and his arms held him tightly as he practically carried Min Shu back to the Chinese restaurant.

Min Shu had been rejected once again and was feeling a bit down. But the moment he walked in the door, the warm air that hit him instantly warmed his whole body. Min Shu let out a soft “Ah,” shook the snow off his clothes, and ran over to curl up on the armchair by the fireplace. Then, thinking about the fresh pork he’d be eating that night, he was suddenly overcome with a wave of sweet happiness.

Who knows what the future holds? Living in the moment is what matters most! For all he knew, he might kick the bucket tomorrow.

Min Shu quickly put that little bit of disappointment behind him and enthusiastically cooked up a feast that evening. Wei Changchuan had chopped the pork ribs into small pieces with an even balance of fat and lean meat; half went into a stew with potatoes, and the other half was made into sweet and sour pork. The pork belly was boiled and sliced thinly, then stir-fried by Min Shu with her hometown-style bean paste to make twice-cooked pork. Even the offal was thoroughly cleaned and grilled by him, served on a heated stone slab as grilled pork tripe—sizzling with oil and filling the air with a fragrance that could be smelled for miles.

Wei Changchuan was clearly very satisfied with today’s all-meat feast. First, he watched Min Shu eat until he was absolutely stuffed, then he polished off the remaining food himself.

After the meal, as was customary, Wei Changchuan washed the bowls, while Min Shu sat stiffly on the sofa, lifting his shirt to rub his bulging belly and letting out an involuntary belch.

He now felt like a pig being fattened up by Wei Changchuan; the way the man was staring at him made Min Shu feel as though he might pick him up and weigh him on a scale at any moment.

Min Shu had eaten too much; all the blood had rushed to his stomach. Curled up on the sofa, he felt warm and cozy, and his whole body was a bit lightheaded.

He was almost asleep when Wei Changchuan walked over.

But just then, the man’s voice rang out:

“I’m leaving for the glacier tomorrow.”

Min Shu’s consciousness, which had been drifting toward sleep, was suddenly snapped back to reality, and he snapped his eyes open.