Everyone has their own temper, their own boundaries.

The difference lies in how each person reacts to stimuli, depending on their constitution.

Take allergies, for example. Some react to apples, others to bananas, or even stranger things.

Ever heard of someone allergic to Wi-Fi signals?

That person must live far from cities—otherwise, rashes cover their body. In severe cases, it can even be fatal.

I’m ordinary and healthy. I’ve eaten everything with relish, lived in both cities and villages, and survived sixteen perfectly fine years.

Easygoing by nature, I rarely lose my temper. I’m no hot-blooded youth who throws punches at the slightest disagreement.

But…

I have my triggers too.

Just hearing *her* name won’t give me hives, but my breath quickens. My whole body trembles. My mind goes blank.

In short—I feel awful. If I could, I’d wish no one ever mentioned her again.

Her name is Luo Xue.

My dear Snow.

…

"I refuse!"

Apologizing? Impossible. I’d done nothing wrong.

After opening the door for Mom, I stormed back to my room and locked it tight.

Mom pounded relentlessly on the door, demanding I apologize to Jiang Muqing. But furious and stubborn, I ignored her shouts completely.

I buried my head under the quilt—a shield against her scolding and Jiang Muqing’s sobs.

Only when a fully enraged Mom retrieved the spare key and forced the door open did I stir.

She grabbed a broom from the utility closet.

Let me clarify: our household rules are strict. For serious mistakes, Mom disciplines me just like Grandpa used to—with a broom.

The difference? Grandpa used a stiff straw broom. Mom only had a plastic one.

From past experience, the plastic shaft hurt far worse.

"You little bastard! Did you wrong Xiao Qing?"

She swung the broom, striking my back. *Thwack! Thwack!* Each hit sent sharp stings through me.

Still, I refused to move.

"Get up and answer me, you idiot!"

Mom seemed drunk, her emotions wild. She struck without restraint.

I clenched my teeth, staying stubbornly prone.

Seeing my mule-like defiance, Mom trembled with rage. She swung harder.

*Snap!*

The hollow plastic shaft broke clean in half. My back had gone numb.

*Now what? Even your weapon’s broken.*

*Go on—find a steel pipe if you dare. See if you really have the heart.*

*Hmph. Are you my mother… or Jiang Muqing’s?*

*If you want to coddle that reckless girl, do it yourself!*

I stayed motionless on the bed.

Mom slapped me with her palm until exhaustion set in. Still, I didn’t budge.

Finally, she collapsed beside me, breath heavy with alcohol.

"You promised you’d take responsibility!" she accused.

*Responsibility?*

*How? She’s not that simple!*

*The smarter the woman, the more trouble she brings.*

I hated Jiang Muqing. She always saw right through me. Standing before her felt like a magician whose tricks were exposed to the audience—I wasn’t performing magic. I was the monkey in the show.

*And I was that monkey.*

"Do you want Xiao Qing to end up like Xiao Xue?"

After a pause, she even brought up Snow.

?!

"Snow…" I whispered.

Why did everyone force this on me? What crime had I committed that you couldn’t forget her?!

Her name burned in my chest—a pain a hundred times sharper than my bruised back.

I fought back tears, but memories of her flooded my mind.

*No. I can’t bear to see anyone else become her.*

*Never.*

*Absolutely never!*

After a long, suffocating silence, I suddenly shouted:

"No! Absolutely not!"

I couldn’t save Snow—but Jiang Muqing was still here!

She could still cry in front of me. But Snow…

I threw off the quilt.

"Here."

Mom’s bleary eyes met mine as she thrust the spare key to the study into my hand.

"Thanks, Mom. I’ll see this through," I said.

"Learned your lesson, brat? Go now. Try stubborn again, and I’ll beat you with a mop—dipped in dirty water!" Her anger still simmered.

"Tonight… I want to sleep with Jiang Muqing. Is that okay?"

I needed to explain Luo Xue to her—to ease her fears.

"Fine. I won’t move anyway. I’ll take your bed. And remember—" Mom’s eyes half-closed.

"—no funny business. Don’t worry, I know." I understood perfectly.

*You wouldn’t know even if we did. You’re this drunk.*

I forced a bitter smile.

Grabbing my pillow, I unlocked the study door.

Darkness filled the room. The girl huddled in the corner of the bed, pressed against the wall.

She was still crying—softly now, her voice hoarse.

Noticing me enter, she flinched slightly.

"Get out! Who said you could come in?!" Her anger was raw.

"Your crying’s too loud! I can’t sleep!" I snapped back.

"Then I’ll go home."

Jiang Muqing sat up stubbornly, gathering her things to leave.

"This isn’t a hotel—you don’t come and go as you please!" I barked.

"Are you kidnapping me? I’ll call the police!" She wiped tears furiously, glaring.

"Go ahead. Call right here in front of me. Did anyone care while you cried for hours?"

*Try being tough now.*

"You’re bullying me!"

The insult broke her. Sobs wracked her small frame again.

"What time do you think it is? Stop making noise! It’s time to sleep. I’m staying. Lie down."

I tossed my pillow beside her and slid under the covers before she could react.

"Pervert! Scum…" She kicked fiercely, trying to shove me off the bed.

"When I sleep, I talk in my dreams. Things I’d never say awake… they all come out."

I edged closer, refusing to budge.

"…"

She froze, bewildered.

"Sleep now."

I pushed her gently back down as she tried to sit up again.

"Let me go, you monster!" She squirmed to escape.

"Do you have my permission to leave? Sleep!" My own frustration hardened my voice.

When she still resisted, I wrapped both arms around her, pinning her against my chest.

"Wahh…" She writhed, tears soaking my shirtfront.

"Stop crying! I can’t sleep like this!" I growled.

"Scum… monster… maggot…" She spat insults like venom.

"Maybe… when I’m asleep, I’ll finally have the courage to tell you about Snow…" I sighed.

Her sobs and curses stopped abruptly.

Feeling her stillness, I loosened my grip slightly.

"You’ve probably heard from Mom. Snow’s real name is Luo Xue. Long ago… we were very, very close friends—"

"Just friends? Impossible." Her teeth ground against my chest.

"Yeah. If only we hadn’t been *just* friends."

Somehow, clear liquid gathered at the corners of my eyes. It spilled over, tracing hot paths down my cheeks onto the pillowcase.

Damp. Unbearable.