Compared with his last visit, only a handful of cars were scattered across the parking area.
The snow was too heavy today, and few people had come.
Leaving his things by the roadside, Yan Heqing walked through the snow to the parking area.
The first car-not it.
The second-not it.
The third-
Beijing A1111.
Yan Heqing's lashes stirred very, very slightly.
Chapter 18: 018
Quite a few tents remained on the ice, dark and silent.
Four cars were parked in the parking area.
Yan Heqing looked them over. Three were covered in snow; either they had been parked here and never driven away, or their owners had stayed here fishing all this time.
Only one had a sparse dusting of snow on its hood: Beijing A1111.
Carrying his lantern, Yan Heqing stepped onto the lake and kept walking farther out.
Lu Lin was a strictly disciplined man who made every second count. Having chosen to come fishing before dawn, he would not have rested first upon arriving.
Most likely, he was fishing alone somewhere.
There was nothing but the sound of falling snow all around. Snowflakes occasionally landed on Yan Heqing's lashes without melting.
Yan Heqing walked very slowly.
The ice was slightly slippery, and he also had to take care not to step into holes other anglers had drilled.
When it snowed, used fishing holes would be covered before a thick layer of ice could form over them. Like traps, stepping into one meant falling straight into the lake.
The small lantern Yan Heqing carried cast a little pool of light on the ice.
He carefully avoided every suspicious patch of ice. After about half an hour, the frozen surface finally narrowed, and he could just make out the trees along the shore.
Weighed down by snow, they occasionally revealed dry branches.
About another ten minutes farther in, a faint glow shone where the towering, undulating snow-covered mountains met.
Found him.
Yan Heqing stopped. A thin layer of white frost had formed on his lashes. He raised a heavy hand and stiffly brushed them.
Inside the spacious, brightly lit tent, the heater was turned up high. Lu Lin had taken off his coat and wore only a thin knit sweater.
To his left stood a folding table with an insulated cup filled with piping-hot ginger tea with brown sugar.
And a newly released suspense novel.
Lu Lin would make time to read novels while fishing. He preferred suspense and mysteries, and his assistant picked out a new release for him every week.
Lu Lin picked up the novel and turned the pages, holding his fishing rod in one hand.
The novel opened with a dismemberment case. The author was exceptionally skilled at creating suspense, and Lu Lin was engrossed when a shrill electric drill suddenly buzzed.
It was piercingly loud in the quiet, snowy valley.
Lu Lin's brow twitched. Someone was drilling fishing holes nearby.
Bzzzz.
Bzzzz.
Bzzzz.
After that series of abrupt, grating noises, quiet returned.
Only the sound of snowflakes falling on the tent roof remained.
Lu Lin went on reading.
Yan Heqing finished drilling two holes, one inside his tent and the other about a meter diagonally ahead to its left.
After pitching the tent and securing the stakes at all four corners, Yan Heqing went inside to lay down the floor mat.
By the time he finished, both his hands were nearly numb with cold. He turned on the heater and warmed them for a moment, then went to the fishing hole and scooped out some crushed ice with a skimmer.
He lifted a corner of the tent flap. Two or three meters away, a large tent stood secured in place, brightly lit, with a vague silhouette faintly visible through it.
Yan Heqing looked toward the other hole he had drilled. The heavy snowfall had covered it in a thin layer of snow, but its outline was still visible.
He went to dump the crushed ice outside. Just as he was about to lower the flap, the silhouette in the opposite tent suddenly moved.
The shadow grew larger and larger.
Almost at the same instant, Yan Heqing lifted his flap.
The heat inside the tent was stifling. Lu Lin pulled open the flap to let in some air, and fresh, icy air instantly rushed inside.
At the same time, he caught sight of a familiar figure.
In the faint light of dawn, with heavy snow swirling down, the youth stood holding a skimmer, dumping crushed ice outside.
The orange light spilling from the tent fell on the youth's snow-white skin, lending it an unreal quality.
Lu Lin's gaze swept over Yan Heqing.
The youth had taken off his coat too and wore a black turtleneck sweater.
Through the heavy snow, the youth seemed to glance his way, then put away the skimmer and retreated into his tent.
Lu Lin watched for a few seconds before lowering the flap. This time, he left it unfastened, keeping a gap for ventilation.
He turned the pages of his novel, but after quite some time, he had read only a few lines.
Eighteen, out fishing on a Tuesday-no school?
Lu Lin rarely saw young people fishing, and those who went ice fishing were rarer still.
Suddenly hearing a noise, Lu Lin looked down. A snakehead had jumped out of the water on its own and was flopping on the floor mat.
Lu Lin bent down, picked up the snakehead, and put it back into the hole. It swam away at lightning speed.
On the other side, Yan Heqing had also caught a mandarin fish.
He was a little hungry. He deftly cleaned the fish, set up the grill pan, and added oil to make the simplest pan-fried fish.
Before long, fragrance filled the tent: the creamy aroma of butter and the savory scent of fish skin.
Could they smell it in the tent next door?
Chewing the tender, delicious fish, Yan Heqing recalled that fleeting glimpse through the snow.
He had not been able to see the man's features clearly, but he could roughly make out Lu Lin's well-defined contours.
Thirty, the age when a man's mature appeal was at its height.
Lin Fengzhi had written in his diary-
[My heart's beating so fast it's about to jump out of my throat. I've never seen anyone so handsome!]
[God, let me date him! I like him so, so much!]
[Lucky! I saw Uncle Lu Lin today, just a glimpse from far away. He really does glow! I wish I could dream about him tonight!]
Yan Heqing finished the pan-fried mandarin fish and drank an entire carton of plain milk, then went back to reading and fishing.
Time ticked by. At three in the afternoon, it was already completely dark, and Yan Heqing closed his book.
Two fish swam around in the little red bucket at his feet.
He stood up and methodically packed his equipment, then put on his coat and went outside to dismantle the tent.
The moment he left the tent, the all-encompassing cold almost instantly stripped the warmth from his body.