Under the warm sun of a frigid winter, a chilling wind whispered through the land. A recent snowfall had blanketed the earth in thick layers of white, stretching endlessly in every direction. Against this stark purity, a small, curled-up figure clad in gray stood out sharply in the vast expanse of dazzling whiteness.

  At the base of a small hill, a young boy slowly opened his eyes. He rose to his feet, his movements calm and deliberate. Though the air was bitterly cold, his clothing was thin—just a tattered, dirt-streaked gray coat riddled with holes. Yet, strangely, he showed no signs of discomfort from the freezing temperature. His expression remained eerily tranquil, and his eyes—sharp and glacial as twin ice crystals—shimmered with an indifferent, almost unfeeling light.

  Taking a few steps forward, his feet sank deep into the snow. Suddenly, he stopped, crouched down, and gently scooped up a handful of snow. Gazing at the delicate flakes in his palm, a faint smile, almost imperceptible, surfaced on his otherwise emotionless face. It was a beautiful smile—subtle yet striking. The image of a cold, distant boy standing amidst an endless field of white, gracing the world with a fleeting smile, was one that could stir the heart… but in this desolate place, there was no one to witness it.

  He knelt, placed the snow back on the ground, then gathered more, piling it carefully in one spot. Slowly, the mound grew, rising to match his own height. With meticulous care, he shaped and smoothed its form, completely immersed in the task as if pouring his very soul into it. Before long, the amorphous pile took the shape of a human figure. The boy smiled again, a quiet, wistful expression. He gazed at his creation for a long time before carefully retrieving a small biscuit from his tattered clothing. Gently, he broke it in half and placed one piece atop the snowman.

  He was only ten years old—an age where most children bask in the warmth of parental love, carefree and without worries. But… he had spent much of his life alone, wandering, without home or purpose. That tiny piece of biscuit was his only food for the day.

  He was cold, distant, rejecting all human connection, yet deep inside, he longed for a companion—someone who could ease his loneliness. But he had lost the ability to trust, fearing, resenting, and despising the world. So, the only friend he could create was this snowman before him—one that would stay by his side and never betray him. Friends, after all, were meant to share things.

  If the snow were to melt, it would reveal a barren, desolate mountain, rarely visited by people. He wandered aimlessly, seeking places where human presence was scarce. He had no destination, no purpose, no future—only the instinct to survive.

  He was an enigma—a boy so consumed by emptiness and detachment that he seemed almost unreal. Even the lifeless snowman he had just built felt more tangible, more present than he did. Slowly, he nibbled on his hardened biscuit, careful not to eat too fast, as if afraid of finishing it too soon. In the silence, only the faint sound of his chewing and the occasional whisper of the wind could be heard.

  Then, just as even the wind seemed ready to surrender to the desolation, a faint, hurried sound sliced through the quiet—a series of rapid, urgent footsteps. The lifeless landscape, frozen in an eternal hush, was suddenly infused with an unexpected presence.

  The boy stopped eating. His sharp, guarded eyes, filled with a wariness far beyond his years, snapped toward the source of the sound. The footsteps were light yet swift, carrying an urgency as if their owner was desperate to reach some unseen destination. But strangely, they were heading straight for him.

  From a distance, the boy saw a figure—one that, for reasons he couldn't comprehend, made his long-frozen heart suddenly beat wildly in his chest. It had been so long since he had felt anything at all, and now, his gaze and his mind were utterly transfixed.

  As the figure drew closer, he finally saw her—her face, her form.

  In that instant, the world lost all color. The endless white of the snow, the misty blue of the sky, even the dazzling light of the sun—all faded into nothingness. Only she remained, a breathtaking existence that eclipsed all else.

  She was a girl, about his age. At just ten years old, she should not have been wandering alone in a place like this, just as he shouldn't have. Yet, despite her tender age, she possessed an otherworldly beauty—one that seemed impossible for a child to have. It was a paradox, an indescribable allure that defied explanation.

  Her delicate features seemed sculpted from ice, glistening under the setting sun with an ethereal radiance. A faint, tranquil smile curved her lips—serene, content, like a lotus blooming under the moonlight. She carried a mist-like aura, an illusion of a celestial being untouched by the mortal world.

  But then, as her feathery lashes fluttered open, revealing a pair of mesmerizing, liquid-like eyes, the illusion shattered. Those deep, enigmatic pupils glowed like rare black pearls—clear, penetrating, yet unfathomably dark, as if gazing into them for too long would freeze one’s very soul.

  She was cold—so cold, like an untouchable ice sculpture. Yet at the same time, she exuded an irresistible allure—a sacred, untouchable charm, a mysterious and intoxicating beauty. Just a glance, just the faintest curve of her lips, was enough to captivate, to ensnare, like the deadly temptation of a night-blooming poppy. Even if one knew it could mean their end, they would still be drawn to her, helplessly, like moths to a flame.

  Holy… Icy… Enchanting…

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  Could a ten-year-old girl truly possess such qualities? Could such a being even exist in this world?

  Had anyone else heard of her, they would have dismissed it as impossible. But those who had seen her… would believe they had just witnessed a girl born from dreams.

  The boy's gaze was as if something had firmly grasped him, rendering him motionless in his daze. He forgot to breathe, forgot to speak, even forgot his own existence. In his eyes, in his heart… in his entire world, there was nothing left but the girl standing before him, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t understand. His emotions had been frozen for many years, yet his heart was still that of a ten-year-old boy. He found her beautiful—so beautiful that he felt as though he had stepped into a dream.

  The cold wind stirred, lifting strands of her hair. As she gazed at the boy before her, the frost in her eyes gradually melted into a soft, mesmerizing mist. She wore only a thin, snow-white garment, blending seamlessly with the frozen world around her, creating an ethereal and breathtaking scene. And that dreamlike face of hers was the most enchanting stroke of color in this masterpiece of ice and snow. Without her, this picture would have been nothing more than a lifeless expanse of pale, empty whiteness.

  When a woman’s beauty reaches an extreme, she is described as "one who causes fish to sink and geese to fall," a beauty that can topple nations. But for her, at the mere age of ten, such earthly praises were unworthy—using them would only serve as an insult, a desecration.

  Drip.

  The gentle curve at the corner of the girl's lips never faded, but the coldness in her eyes was quietly dissolving. Eventually, it melted into a single teardrop that silently fell onto the snow at her feet.

  A tear…

  And then, suddenly, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around the boy before he could even register what was happening. She clung to him with all her strength, her suppressed tears finally spilling over, soaking into his tattered clothing.

  "I… finally… found you…"

  Leaning against his shoulder, she murmured softly. Her voice was as delicate as the wind whispering through a secluded valley, as ethereal as if it came from beyond the heavens. Her pure white robes stood in stark contrast to the boy’s filthy, ragged gray attire. Yet, she showed no hesitation, no aversion—only an almost desperate determination to hold onto him, as if afraid that if she loosened her grip even a little, he would vanish forever.

  A faint, warm breath brushed against his neck, and the delicate body in his embrace trembled slightly. Never before had he held a girl in his arms, nor had he ever been embraced by one. The boy stood there, utterly frozen, increasingly convinced that he must be dreaming.

  After a long while, the girl, having wiped away her tears, finally loosened her hold. Yet, she still remained close to him, her luminous, misty eyes gazing at him in a dazed, spellbound way. And he, too, looked at her with an almost unreal expression. Standing so near, he could see her skin—pale as snow, smooth as jade. Her breathtaking eyes shimmered like crystalline ice, and her lips, a deep crimson, resembled the delicate petals of a cherry blossom. Her long, cascading black hair swayed gently in the cold wind, accentuating her poetic, otherworldly beauty—so overwhelming that he barely dared to look directly at her.

  Anyone who saw her would be utterly convinced that every inch of her being—her body, her face, her skin, her breath, her gaze, her voice, her smile—could effortlessly conquer any man. Even now, even at the mere age of ten.

  "You… who are you…"

  A boy who had always shunned people, rejected contact, and kept his distance, now found himself unable to summon even the slightest thought of pushing her away. He could only stare at her in a daze, his voice so soft that even he could barely hear it.

  Tears blurred the girl’s vision once more, but she smiled. That innocent, breathtaking smile felt like the most beautiful flower blooming before his eyes.

  Softly, she said, "First… can you tell me your name?"

  "Ye Tian."

  He had almost forgotten his own name, but under her gaze, he spoke it without hesitation.

  "Ye Tian…"

  She murmured the name, then gently asked, "Why are you here all alone? Where is your home? Where are your parents?"

  "Home?"

  The girl suddenly felt his entire body stiffen, and in an instant, his skin turned cold as ice. He shook his head, his voice devoid of all emotion.

  "I have no home… My father is dead. My mother is dead… My brother died protecting me… I have always been… alone."

  The girl’s body trembled slightly. It was only now, as she looked at him more closely, that she noticed the snowman he had built, the ragged state of his clothing, and the half-eaten biscuit in his hand. In that moment, it felt as if thousands of blades had pierced through her heart, the pain so intense that her freshly wiped tears blurred her vision once more.

  She reached out with her warm hand, cupping his face as she choked back her sobs. "Why… why are you always so alone… No! I don’t want this… I won’t let you be alone anymore. I won’t let you suffer anymore. You gave up so much for me… This time, let me give you everything I have to protect you…"

  She spoke words he could not understand.

  "Why… are you… are you mistaking me for someone else?" he asked instinctively.

  "No… Even if I forgot myself, I would never forget you. I could never mistake you for someone else."

  She shook her head gently, letting her tears fall away. Then, with a soft, tear-streaked smile, she whispered, "Your birthday is July 7th, isn’t it?"

  The boy was momentarily stunned before he nodded blankly.

  "I was born on July 7th, too… Do you believe it? We were born in the same year, the same month, the same day, the same hour… even the same second."

  The boy: "…"

  "From now on, you won’t be alone anymore. Let me stay with you, okay? If you’re willing… can you do one thing for me? From now on, you won’t be called Ye Tian anymore. Your name will be… Ye Tianxie. Okay?"

  "Ye… Tianxie…"

  ……

  Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window. Ye Tianxie finally awoke, sitting up in bed as he stared blankly ahead, lost in the dream that had replayed countless times in his sleep.

  Every time this happened, his expression would turn vacant, filled with a rare confusion and sorrow.

  If we were meant to part, why did we meet in the first place?

  If we met, why did we have to be separated?

  Didn’t you promise… to stay with me forever?

  Why was that "forever" so short?

  Where are you… where did you go… why did you leave…

  For more than a decade, she had stayed by his side, loving him more than anything in the world. And yet, even now, after all this time…

  He still didn’t know who she was.

  He let out a long sigh. Three years had passed since she left. Her absence had once driven him mad, broken him, plunged him into despair. He had clawed his way out of it step by step, clinging to the hope that, just as she had disappeared without warning, one day she would return.

  But whether it took three years, ten years, or thirty…

  He knew he could never erase the sorrow and longing in his heart.

  He would never let her go.

  He believed she was a celestial maiden, a gift from the heavens, the most dazzling, most beautiful star ever bestowed upon him.