Beg Me to Remarry
Chapter 441: Mud Cow Into the Sea

Chapter 441: Chapter 441: Mud Cow Into the Sea

Indeed, daydreams turn into nighttime dreams.

Even though he knew it was all just a dream, He Xing couldn’t help the upturn of his lips as he thought about the dream’s details, and he couldn’t resist the thought, "If only dreams were real."

But his smile was fleeting. He Xing immediately thought of Fu Han skiing in M Country at this very moment, feeling as if something was stuck in his heart, making breathing difficult.

He had already sent Fu Han several emails, but they were like a stone sinking into the sea, without any response. He had thought of reaching out to Fu Han through Bai Wei, but he didn’t want their business to be everyone’s business. In his heart, they hadn’t broken up; Fu Han was just mad at him.

Once he took care of his affairs here, he would fly to her immediately; surely Fu Han would forgive him then.

After all they had been through, He Xing cherished their relationship. He didn’t believe that Fu Han would simply give up—they were just in a rough patch; it had to be so.

...

M Country, Ski Field.

Fu Han had never found herself so naturally talented at something as she was at skiing. She spent half a day on the beginner’s slope her first day.

By the second day, she had moved on to the intermediate slopes. Ji Liangchuan had offered to ski with her, but she declined, insisting she could take it slow and that the instructor was there to help if needed.

In truth, Fu Han could have skied without the instructor that day, but she had hired one anyway to have a credible reason to turn down both Ji Liangchuan and Su Cheng.

She didn’t want to ski with Ji Liangchuan anymore. She disliked the way he looked at her, his gaze so obviously full of intent.

Every time Ji Liangchuan looked at her, Fu Han felt as if she were stripped bare and standing in the sunlight.

This feeling wasn’t as intense before, but ever since Ji Liangchuan confessed his feelings, he had gone from being a wolf in sheep’s clothing to an outright wolf; not only did he stop hiding his pursuit, but it was as if he wished the whole world knew of his affection for Fu Han.

Fu Han fell more times the second day than the first. Although the thick snow meant she wasn’t in pain, she did briefly consider giving up—until she saw Bai Wei and Nan Qing zooming down the track, which made her think: if they could do it, so could she.

With patience, she continued to practice on the intermediate slope for two days before progressing to the advanced one.

Where there’s a will, there’s a way. By the end of the week when they left the Ski Field, Fu Han could smoothly navigate the advanced slopes; in the final race with Bai Wei and Nan Qing, she took the second place proudly.

Leaving the Ski Field, Fu Han looked back at the endless tracks and distant mountains, feeling as if she were in another lifetime.

When she first arrived, her mind was full of He Xing and her heart heavy with the sorrow of lost love, but in just a week, the shadow of heartbreak seemed to have lessened.

She was truly exhausted this week, consumed by skiing and a variety of activities—sledding, winter hunting, barbecuing, hot springs; she was so busy that she fell asleep immediately after showering each night, even abandoning her routine of checking social media.

The effect was real, though. She felt the world become more vast, her heart more open, and the world around her more beautiful.

Yet, all these positive feelings only lasted as long as she didn’t think about He Xing. Every time he crossed her mind, her heart would sting like it was being pricked by needles—a soft and pervasive pain that she couldn’t ignore.

Essentially, Fu Han kept herself so busy on purpose, as any moment of idleness would invariably lead her thoughts to He Xing.

Over the years, thinking of He Xing had become as natural as breathing for her—an ingrained, unstoppable part of her life.

The landscape outside the window scrolled in reverse as they returned home in a nine-seater car, the temperature inside high enough that everyone had removed their down jackets, briefly reintroducing the feel of autumn.

In the past week, the nine people in the car had become like family, save for Su Cheng and Ji Liangchuan who remained at odds. The others discussed the past week’s conquests with enthusiasm.

Plenty of game was packed in the trunk, the week’s haul. They had consumed some and would carry the rest back for a grand Christmas celebration.

In the subzero weather, the world was a giant freezer—there was no concern about spoiling or the stench of decay; everything was assuredly fresh.

Fu Han was still seated behind the driver, Fu Xingbo. Her eyes gazed out the window at the white landscape, where leaves had long fallen, the bare branches donning ice and snow that melded over time, often forming semi-translucent ice with discernible snowflakes within.

Despite the busy week, Fu Han still found time each day to take photographs. Her DSLR was filled with various snowscapes, untouched yet, she believed, as beautiful as if taken right out of a wonderland.

Fu Han leaned closer to the window. The warm breath from her nose fogged up the glass, and she traced shapes with her finger, not quite sure what she was drawing.

Suddenly, Bai Wei’s exclamation pierced the silence: "Fu Han, what are you doing? Why aren’t you answering when people talk to you?"

"Ah? What did you say?" Fu Han turned around calmly, her composure unshaken by her distraction, as she had become used to her frequent lapses of attention, as had everyone else.

"What are you doing?" Bai Wei asked, leaning closer; her seat was just one aisle away, bringing her nearly face-to-face against the glass.

As Fu Han tried to recall what she had drawn, Bai Wei’s voice rang out again: "Fu Han, are you still thinking about He Xing? Forget about that unreliable guy, why are you still hung up on him?"

"Ah?" Fu Han looked at Bai Wei with innocent eyes, puzzled about what had gone wrong.

Bai Wei pointed at the glass next to Fu Han and said: "And you say you’re not thinking about He Xing—you’ve written his name right here."

At those words, everyone, except for the driving Fu Xingbo, turned their gaze to the window beside Fu Han. Nan Qing and the others in the back stood up to look.

Being closest, Fu Han had the natural advantage of a clear view.