They say when you see the person who once hurt you, memories rush back like a flood. But for Luo Shiyi, there was nothing. Just stillness. Just him.
Snowflakes drifted between them, time briefly suspended.
For a heartbeat, neither spoke.
He looked different—older, sharper, colder. His jawline more defined, shoulders broader. His once boyish eyes had changed. They were deeper now, unreadable, like winter shadows.
Even after everything, seeing him again felt like someone had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart without warning.
"What are you doing here?" His voice was cautious, unsure.
Her tongue felt useless. Her brain blanked, leaving nothing but the sound of his voice echoing.
Why was he here? Why now?
She forced herself to breathe, to speak, to not fall apart.
"I could ask you the same thing," she finally replied, sharper than intended. She swallowed and softened her tone. "I just… came to see Grandma and Grandpa Han. I didn't know…"
Her voice faded.
Jinyu is here. In this house. Right in front of me.
She hadn't seen him in nine years. Not since… that day.
His expression changed—caution, tension flickering in his eyes.
"Grandpa isn't here," he said after a moment. "He was hospitalized yesterday. I was just about to go back."
Shiyi froze again.
"What?" she breathed. "When? What happened?"
"His pneumonia came back." His voice was calm, but she heard the strain beneath it. He raked a hand through his hair. He looked tired.
He didn't have the bright, polished look she'd seen in his posters. He just looked… worn.
"What?" Shiyi exclaimed, heart sinking. "Don't tell me he still hasn't stopped smoking. I warned him—"
Agitated, Luo Shiyi shifted her weight without thinking, straight onto her injured ankle.
A sharp jolt of pain shot up her leg.
She winced.
Jinyu noticed instantly. He stepped closer. "What happened?"
"It's nothing," she muttered. "I slipped earlier. My ankle's just a little—ah—" she hissed again as she tried to straighten.
He reached out, as if to steady her. She instinctively stepped back.
Big mistake. The movement made pain shoot up again and she had to quickly grab the gate to stay upright.
Smooth, Shiyi. Real smooth.
He crouched slightly, his brows knitting. "Let me—"
"I said I'm fine," she cut him off, massaging her ankle.
When she looked up, his gaze was fixed on her, steady, unreadable. The silence between them thickened.
She looked away first. "I'll head home now. Can you tell me which hospital he's in? I'll visit tomorrow."
Jinyu looked at her for a moment longer, then said, "I'm going to the hospital. If you want to see Grandpa, you can come with me."
Her heart stalled.
Go with him? Alone? After nine years of silence and an unfinished past neither of them wanted to touch?
She opened her mouth, ready to refuse, to come up with some excuse, when he added quietly:
"He'll be happy to see you."
And just like that, she hesitated.
Because he was right.
"Ah…" Shiyi pressed her lips together, glancing back toward the street as if debating whether to turn around.
"Get inside first," Jinyu said firmly, opening the gate wider. "It's freezing, and you're barely dressed for it."
She hesitated. Part of her wanted to leave, to avoid reopening old wounds, but the thought of Grandpa Han lying in a hospital bed tugged at her chest. She hadn't seen him in three years.
With a quiet nod, she stepped forward, forcing herself to walk as normally as she could, hiding the limp that made her wince with every step.
"Is Grandma Han at the hospital too?" she asked as they reached the front door.
Jinyu pushed it open and stepped aside for her. "Yeah," he said, closing the door behind them. "She told me to grab some of their things."
The familiar warmth of the house wrapped around her, bringing with it a flood of memories.
Everything looked the same.
The old wooden furniture, the faint scent of jasmine tea. Only a few new portraits hung on the wall, faces smiling back from moments she had missed.
She sat on the sofa, her gaze softening. Back in high school, this place had been her second home.
She used to spend afternoons here doing homework, sharing snacks, listening to Grandma Han's stories. Her mother would scold her for staying too long, but the Hans never minded. They treated her like family, like the granddaughter they never had.
She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Jinyu return until he spoke.
"Here."
She blinked and turned. He was holding out a cold compress.
"Knowing you… it's probably another sprain."
She took it, pressing her lips together to stop a smile.
"Knowing me, huh?" she muttered under her breath with a scoff.
He caught it. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," she said quickly, looking away as she placed the compress on her ankle.
For a moment, silence filled the room again, thick, heavy, but not entirely uncomfortable.
Jinyu watched her a beat longer, then said, "Since we're heading to the hospital anyway, you should get that checked."
Shiyi immediately shook her head. "There's no need. I'm fine. It's just a sprain. I've handled worse." Her tone was firm, maybe too firm. "I am a nurse, remember?"
He gave a quiet hum, neither agreeing nor arguing, then turned away to gather a few things.
Shiyi watched him as he moved around the room.
His back broader now, movements more composed, more deliberate.
It was strange.
The boy she once knew had been all laughter and warmth.
The man standing there now carried a quiet gravity, something unspoken in the space between them.
She leaned back into the sofa and exhaled slowly.
Damn it.
She hadn't planned any of this. Not the fight, not the fall, and certainly not seeing him again.