The room fell silent again for a long time.
The only sound was the crackling of firewood in the fireplace.
“Are you asleep?” Loviki whispered.
“No,” Flora replied almost instantly.
Silence fell again for a few seconds.
“What are you thinking about?” Loviki asked.
“I'm thinking about that grilled fish,” Flora's voice was muffled by the blanket, making it hard to tell if she was smiling. “The grilled fish we bought at the street corner stall this morning. Mr. Chen Mian only took two bites.”
“That's because he doesn't like eating fish.”
“His expression didn't look like he was eating something he disliked.”
Loviki rolled over and stared at the ceiling. “Lying to me again. He rarely speaks a word of truth.”
“He does,” Flora also rolled over to face Loviki, catching a dim glimpse of her silhouette bundled up in the blanket. “Many of the things he says are actually true.”
Loviki didn't reply, pulling the blanket up to cover her chin.
A few seconds passed before her muffled voice drifted out from beneath the blanket. “Flora, don't you think it's strange how someone as powerful as him can live his life like an ordinary person?”
Flora was silent for a moment before saying, “Because he's Mr. Chen Mian.”
This answer made absolutely no logical sense, yet Loviki found herself understanding exactly what she meant.
The two of them chatted idly back and forth, their voices growing softer and softer until silence enveloped them once more.
Downstairs, at the counter.
The elderly dwarf woman looked up and asked, “Can I help you?”
“I'd like to borrow the kitchen.”
The old woman set down the cup in her hand and wiped her hands on her apron. “The inn provides free breakfast.”
Chen Mian shook his head with a smile. “I want to make some food for my companion. Tomorrow is her birthday.”
The old woman raised an eyebrow, remained silent for a moment, and then walked toward the stove behind her, pointing to a cupboard. “The ingredients are in the cupboard. Just let me know if you need anything.”
Chen Mian took out flour and milk from the cupboard, then cracked the eggs into a bowl one by one. Butter melted slowly in the pan, its rich, milky aroma drifting through the rising steam.
He wanted to bake a cake. Loviki had told him about Flora's birthday, though Flora herself didn't seem to know about it.
The old woman leaned against the stove and watched him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Have you made desserts before?”
“A long time ago,” Chen Mian replied without looking up, his stirring spoon rotating at a steady pace in the bowl. “Over forty years ago.”
“Then you've lived quite a long time.”
“Yeah,” Chen Mian didn't deny it. He poured the mixed batter into a mold and lightly tapped the rim of the bowl with his finger.
The old woman turned around, took a small jar of jam from the shelf, and set it on the counter beside him. “Wigtan iceberry jam. It's delicious on cakes. In our Anvil Tribe, it symbolizes happiness.”
“Thank you.”
The old woman glanced at him. “If her birthday is tomorrow, why not wait until tomorrow to make it?”
Chen Mian put the mold into the oven. “With the festival tomorrow, I won't be able to keep it a secret from her.”
“Do you run this shop alone?” He straightened up and asked casually. “I noticed that aside from those adventurers, it's rare to see any dwarves in this city anymore.”
“I've run it for many years,” the old woman said, leaning against the stove with her hands in her apron pockets. “My husband and I opened this place when we were young. Back then, the Anvil District was filled with dwarves. The sound of blacksmithing went on from morning till night, so loud you couldn't sleep.”
At this, she smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Later, he passed away before me. If I left, he would be all alone.”
“No children?”
The old woman shook her head. “The two of us were enough. Besides, running this inn, people come and go, moving in and out, so I never felt like anything was missing. It's just that the nights are too quiet now. Sometimes, the house feels a bit too big.”
She turned around, picked up the rag on the stove, and began wiping the counter. “But I've gotten used to it. It's fine. We'll be reunited one day.”
“Reunited? Do you believe in an afterlife?”
“As long as the hearth fire burns, life goes on.”
“Time actually passes very quickly.” She wrung out the rag and hung it over the faucet. Her wrinkled face held no sadness, only a peacefulness settled by the passage of time.
Chen Mian withdrew his gaze, looking at the cake slowly baking in the oven. “Yeah, it is quite fast.”
When he returned to the room,
Flora was already asleep, but Loviki was still awake, her ruby-like eyes watching Chen Mian as he walked in.
Chen Mian's lips curved upward as he gave a slight nod.
Loviki also wore a smug smile, like a conspirator whose plan had succeeded.
“Get some rest,” Chen Mian walked over and whispered.
“Okay.”
When Flora woke up, the sky was starting to grow dim, and the houses outside the window were lighting up one after another.
Seeing Chen Mian resting in the chair and Loviki still asleep beside her,
she quietly got up, found a blanket, walked over to Chen Mian, and gently draped it over him.
Chen Mian opened his eyes. “You're awake?”
“Did we sleep for a long time? It's already dark outside,” Flora asked softly.
“No, Wigtan City just has very short days.” Chen Mian then pointed toward the window. “It's still quite lively outside.”
Flora walked over to the window and saw the residents of the row of houses opposite them climbing up ladders to hang things from their eaves.
She turned her head and whispered, “Mr. Chen Mian, what are they doing?”
“Hanging ice crystal lamps. Tomorrow is the Ice and Fire Festival, and the residents of Wigtan City are preparing for tomorrow's celebration.”
“Ice crystal lamps?” Flora looked back at the window, observing the light-blue magical ice crystal lamps the residents were hanging. “What is that sealed inside the lamps?”
“Frost-pistil flowers. They bloom in spring. The northern people harvest the early spring flowers, dry them, and seal them inside the ice crystal lamps to look at during the winter.”
“Why?”
“To see the beauty of spring and bolster their confidence to endure the winter. Of course, nowadays, it's mostly symbolic.” Chen Mian continued his explanation. “The origin of the Ice and Fire Festival is actually quite simple and humble. During the winter of Wigtan's early days, the dwarf and human residents were suddenly hit by an extremely cold and prolonged snowy season. Many almost froze to death, but by helping and encouraging one another, along with the flames of the forge, they miraculously pulled through.”
“Ever since then, the seventh day after the first heavy snowfall of every winter has been celebrated as the Ice and Fire Festival.”
Flora watched the figures hanging lamps outside the window, falling silent for a moment. “Tomorrow is that day?”
“Yes.”
She stared at the snow accumulating on the opposite roofs. The cold wind seeped through the crack in the window, stirring the loose strands of hair at her temples. Flora gazed intently at the flowers sealed within the ice crystal lamps.
Once, she too had felt as if she were sealed inside something.
Chen Mian leaned back in his chair, watching her silhouette.
The fire in the fireplace flickered, making a soft crackling sound.
“Mr. Chen Mian.”
“Yes?”
“Will the flowers sealed in those lamps die?”
“No,” Chen Mian answered Flora's somewhat nonsensical question with absolute seriousness. “The northern people believe that frost-pistil flowers can survive the entire winter. If you take them out and plant them back in the soil next spring, they will definitely bloom again.”
Flora turned around, her bright, expressive eyes shining faintly in the dim room. “Really?”
“Yes. Seven or eight out of ten will survive.”
She looked back out the window, her lips curving into a tiny smile. “That's wonderful...”
On the bed, Loviki rolled over, mumbling something incoherent and pulling most of the blanket with her.
Flora quickly walked over, tugged a corner of the blanket out from under her, and covered her up again.
“Mr. Chen Mian.”
“Yes?”
“Will the three of us explore the Ice and Fire Festival together tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Great.” She sat back on the edge of the bed, resting her chin in her hands as she watched the fire in the fireplace. “I think I like this festival.”
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