Feng Yi was awake. His eyes crinkled into a smile the moment he saw her.

Her mood lifted involuntarily. She poked his cheek and suddenly asked, "Feng Yi, why do you like me?"

Feng Yi jolted, his sleepiness instantly gone. He sat bolt upright. "What's wrong? Why are you suddenly asking this?"

"I'm just curious. Do you like me because I'm pretty?"

Feng Yi looked at her, bewildered, his mind still foggy. "But I'm not pretty right now. No makeup, and my face is swollen. Do you still like me looking like this?"

Feng Yi's brain finally rebooted, processing her first sentence. Her self-deprecating words bothered him.

He cupped her face gently. "You're beautiful right now, Qiao Li. You're radiant."

Qiao Li brushed his hands away. She'd seen herself in the mirror; she wasn't going to believe that.

Thinking she'd accepted his reassurance, Feng Yi turned to answer her original question. "I don't like you because you're pretty." He paused, then added, "Well, that's not right. I do think you're very pretty. I really like your appearance, but that's not all."

Qiao Li propped her chin on her hand. "Then why do you like me?"

Feng Yi frowned, silent.

"Is it complicated?"

He shook his head. "No, it's simple. It's so simple, I don't know how to answer you."

His serious expression made Qiao Li find him incredibly endearing. "What kind of answer is that?"

He replied, "It's like wanting lemonade in the summer, wanting to bask in the sun in the winter, or suddenly wanting to run out into the pouring rain. It's a simple desire, an instinct. There's no logic to it, the thought just pops into your head." He added, "But liking you isn't like those fleeting desires. It's like the refreshing feeling of ice water on a scorching day. You want to keep drinking, to prolong that pleasure."

Realizing his explanation was rather abstract, he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Suddenly, his gaze landed on her bookshelf.

He jumped out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cold wooden floor, making him hop. He hopped over to the bookshelf, grabbed Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood, and hopped back.

Feng Yi sat in front of her, backlit by the morning light, his features softened by the glow.

He flipped to a page and read aloud, "'One beautiful spring morning, you're walking along a country road. You're all alone, and a cute little bear walks up to you. It's wearing a coat made of the finest velvet, and its eyes are sparkling. It says to you, "Good morning, little lady. Care to roll around with me on this lovely hillside?" So you and the bear roll around together, and play all day long under the clear blue sky. What do you think? Wouldn't that be wonderful?'"

"'That would be wonderful.'"

"That's how I like you."

He closed the book, flashing a bright smile. "That's exactly how it feels. I want to keep rolling down the hill with you forever."

Qiao Li looked at him. The winter morning light suddenly felt warm. Somewhere within her, something melted, like a snowman under the sun, collapsing softly.