CHAPTER 1

A biting wind whipped through the air, carrying snowflakes that howled like a storm. Only a handful of people braved the streets, bundled in thick down jackets, their faces completely covered by hats, earmuffs, and masks to shield themselves from the cold.

 

Photographer Liu Ying adjusted his camera, searching for the perfect shot of the snowscape. He was preparing to enter this year’s World Photography Competition and had traveled far and wide, yet he still hadn’t found a scene that truly captivated him.

 

He had journeyed all the way from the south to this small town known as the “Snow Kingdom of the North.” Unlike the gentle, harmless snowflakes he had encountered elsewhere, the snow here felt like it was laced with razor blades, each flake stinging as it landed.

 

Perhaps in this place, he would find something extraordinary.

 

As his camera slowly tilted upward, a slightly dilapidated building inadvertently entered the frame.

 

A crumbling old building standing defiant against the blizzard—this, too, could make a compelling image. Liu Ying didn’t immediately move his camera, deciding to observe for a moment longer.

 

Just then, a window on the upper floor of the building creaked open.

 

A slender hand reached out the window, letting the snow fall onto it. The slightly elevated temperature at the bottom caused the snow to melt into icy water, which trickled down his fingers.

 

Liu Ying’s heart felt as if something had struck it hard. His breathing quickened involuntarily. He had a premonition that this was a hand with a story to tell.

 

He carefully adjusted the camera angle, afraid of startling the ethereal figure.

 

Yes, he was as beautiful and pure as an elf.

 

Through the camera, Liu Ying saw the face hidden behind the window. The figure had his eyes closed, and his slightly curled eyelashes cast shadows beneath them, making his porcelain-white skin appear even paler.

 

His light chestnut hair was slightly wavy, playfully framing his forehead and partially obscuring his slender eyebrows, which somehow conveyed a hint of sadness.

 

Like a young boy in a fairy tale cradling a dead Narcissus, an enduring sorrow emanated from his eyes and brows.

 

What had happened to him? Why was he so heartbroken?

 

As Liu Ying adjusted the camera, he began to weave a story for this elfin figure in his mind.

 

Perhaps he was born into a wealthy family—his refined aura was unmistakable. He must have had a gentle, beautiful mother and a stern but deeply loving father, and they lived a life of great happiness. This would explain the elf’s delicate skin and noble bearing.

 

But later, some cataclysmic event must have struck his family. His mother must have died, and his father, neglecting his emotional needs, left the elf feeling perpetually lonely. Over time, an enduring melancholy settled in his eyes.

 

Lost in thought, Liu Ying found the perfect angle:

 

In the vast, silver-white expanse, a dilapidated little house stood defiant against the wind and snow, adding a touch of resilience to the scene.

 

Through the wide-open window, the elf-like youth closed his eyes, sensing the world outside. His palm was covered in snow as white as his skin, and a few drops of icy water trickled through his fingers, seemingly creating ripples in the air.

 

Liu Ying had just snapped one photo when the youth flipped his hand over, gazing down at the rapidly falling snowflakes.

 

Seeing this, he quickly snapped two more shots.

 

Liu Ying had only managed to capture two sets of photos before the young man had shaken off the snow and vanished behind the closed window.

 

Everything had happened so quickly, as if this fleeting youth truly were an elf who had descended to the mortal realm, only to accidentally return to the forest, leaving no trace behind.

 

Liu Ying frantically flipped through the photos, relief washing over him when he confirmed the young man’s existence.

 

He should visit the young man and seek his permission for portrait rights.

 

The thought of actually meeting the youth sent Liu Ying’s heart racing.

 

Back at the hotel, Liu Ying printed out the young man’s photos.

 

He had already been about to leave, but suddenly turned back. He needed to tidy himself up and buy some gifts before meeting him.

 

Liu Ying was like a naive young man caught in the throes of his first pure love. He shed his bulky puffer jacket, replacing it with a shorter down jacket. He also swapped his thick cashmere thermal pants, which made his legs look stubby, for a pair of simple jeans.

 

Satisfied with the image in the mirror, which made him look several years younger, Liu Ying nodded and finally left.

 

Liu Ying stood nervously before the door, clutching bags and boxes overflowing with gifts. He’d only intended to buy a few small things, but as he shopped, he kept feeling the gifts were too meager. Before he knew it, he’d bought far too much.

 

He took a deep breath and finally pressed the doorbell.

 

After a long moment, the sound of a lock clicking echoed from the other side of the door. Liu Ying’s heart pounded in his chest.

 

The door finally opened, and through the widening crack, Liu Ying caught his first full glimpse of the man.

 

He looked exactly as Liu Ying had imagined: porcelain-white skin that was almost transparent, light brown eyes, a high-bridged nose, thin lips, and a slightly slender build. Everything about him perfectly matched the description of a fairy from a fairy tale, as if he might take flight from this dirty human world at any moment.

 

It wasn’t until the youth’s cool, polite voice broke the silence that Liu Ying snapped back to reality.

 

“May I ask who you’re looking for?” the youth asked.

 

Liu Ying fumbled for a bow. “I… I’m here to see you.”

 

“What can I do for you?”

 

“I’m a freelance photographer. This morning, I accidentally took your picture,” Liu Ying said, setting down the gifts and pulling a printed photo from his pocket. “I came to ask if I could publish these photos.”

 

The young man remained silent, gazing at the photograph in his hand.

 

Liu Ying grew anxious, quickly explaining, “I truly adore this series. I’ve traveled to many places and photographed snowscapes every winter, but no matter how professional the models, something always felt lacking. You, for the first time, showed me what that missing element was: perfect integration, a seamless fusion with the scenery!

 

You are like the embodiment of this landscape, possessing the resilience to withstand wind and snow, yet also the detachment of a drifting cloud…

 

Oh dear, what am I even saying?

 

I’m simply so captivated by you… and this series of images. Please forgive my incoherent excitement. Would you grant me permission to use these photos?”

 

The young man stared at Liu Ying, seemingly listening intently. This only made Liu Ying more flustered, his face flushing crimson.

 

After speaking, Liu Ying looked at the young man with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. The young man seemed moved by his words; a flicker of consideration or hesitation finally appeared in his cold eyes.

 

During the long and short wait, Liu Ying felt his heart nearly stop.

 

Finally, he whispered, “You may.”

 

At that moment, his heart resumed its violent pounding, the roaring sound seeming to explode in his ears, leaving him dizzy.

 

He handed the gift to the young man with a foolish grin, asking, “Can you tell me your… *achoo!*”

 

Liu Ying, who had always prioritized style over warmth, finally met his comeuppance. Before he could finish his sentence, he let out a loud sneeze. “I… I’m so sorry, I…”

 

“It was my oversight. Please, come inside,” the young man said, stepping aside to fully open the door to the house behind him.

 

The young man clearly lived alone. Everything was single: the rattan chair on the balcony, the books and coffee on the small tea table. Everything stood alone, radiating a terrifying loneliness.

 

“Would you like something to drink?” the young man asked.

 

Liu Ying snapped back to attention. “Uh, just plain water is fine, thank you.”

 

The young man brought a steaming cup of hot water. As Liu Ying took it, their fingers brushed, and he realized the young man’s fingertips were chillingly cold, like real ice and snow.

 

What had happened to bring this young man, who should have been enjoying life like a Little Prince, to this place?

 

“Didn’t you have a question for me earlier?” The young man held a cup of hot cocoa, his features blurred by the steam. His voice, as clear and cold as jade striking stone, was a stark contrast to his hazy expression.

 

Liu Ying suppressed his curiosity and said, “I wanted to ask your name. I won’t tell anyone else, but I might need it later.”

 

“My name is Yu Huan. And you don’t need to call me ‘sir’.”

 

“Alright. I… I’m Liu Ying, the ‘Ying’ from ‘shadow’.”

 

Yu Huan. What a strange name, Liu Ying thought. It sounded unlucky, immediately conjuring images of melancholy and sorrow. He couldn’t help but wonder if his earlier assumptions were correct—did Yu Huan truly have a happy family?

 

This question was destined to remain unanswered. After a brief conversation, Liu Ying took his leave.

 

Before leaving, he glanced back at Yu Huan, who was closing the door. Yu Huan’s eyelids were slightly lowered, tiny droplets of water clinging to his curled eyelashes. His solitary figure, framed by the doorway, resembled a lurking serpent, poised to devour the beautiful elf.

 

For a moment, Liu Ying was tempted to throw caution to the wind and rush back to embrace Yu Huan, even if it meant sharing a little of his warmth, just to ease his sadness.

 

But in the end, he could only sigh and leave.

 

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This strange encounter—Liu Ying couldn’t find a more fitting word—would haunt him for a long time.

 

He kept finding himself inexplicably recalling Yu Huan’s sorrowful brows, like a narcissus flower on the verge of wilting.

 

Before leaving, Liu Ying passed by the house countless times, but he never saw Yu Huan again.

 

Only after boarding the plane did Liu Ying suddenly realize that the small house was actually Yu Huan’s tomb, prepared for himself. He wanted nothing, not even death.

 

This person, Liu Ying couldn’t save.

 

When Liu Ying entered Yu Huan’s photo of him catching snow in the competition, he lingered on the title field for a long time.

 

He had originally wanted to name the photo “Snow Sprite,” his first impression of Yu Huan.

 

But at this moment, he hesitated. After truly getting to know Yu Huan, he realized he wasn’t some ethereal sprite untouched by the world. He was an ordinary person who had exiled himself after enduring unspeakable pain.

 

In the name field, Liu Ying typed and deleted, typed and deleted, feeling that no title could truly capture Yu Huan’s essence.

 

Slightly irritated, Liu Ying opened a webpage and searched for “Narcissus.” He came across the fairy tale he barely remembered:

 

The Little Prince’s father remarried, and his stepmother brought with her an older, more accomplished brother and gave birth to a beautiful, well-behaved daughter. At first, the father still showed some concern for the Little Prince, but soon all his attention was consumed by the accomplished brother and the obedient sister.

 

Heartbroken, the Little Prince was abused by his stepmother and harshly criticized by his father, yet he was powerless to change his situation. Every day, he could only weep before his mother’s beloved Narcissus.

 

The Narcissus was awakened by the prince’s tears. She accompanied him through his darkest days, but was eventually thrown into a valley by his mischievous little sister. The Narcissus couldn’t escape the freezing cold and perished, leaving the Little Prince forever.

 

The Little Prince found the Narcissus and embraced her as they both vanished into the snowy wasteland.

 

Yu Huan wasn’t holding the Narcissus. He was embracing something Liu Ying could never understand, and he too would gradually disappear into the blizzard of the frozen kingdom.

 

Liu Ying’s heart clenched. His trembling fingers typed the title of his work: “Narcissus and the Little Prince.”

 

Thanks to this photograph, Liu Ying advanced all the way to the finals and even earned the title of “Top Ten Emerging Photographers.” Yet his mood grew heavier with each passing day.

 

Every time he saw the photograph or someone mentioned it, he was reminded of Yu Huan.

 

The feeling that he had climbed to his current success over Yu Huan’s corpse grew stronger, leaving Liu Ying to live in constant regret.

 

On the day of the finals, Liu Ying booked a flight and returned to the Land of Ice and Snow once more. His conscience wouldn’t let him rest; he had to do something.

 

Approaching the small building, Liu Ying immediately spotted the Hummer parked outside. He knew the vehicle well; the base model alone cost over two million yuan.

 

Who could possibly own such a car?

 

As Liu Ying walked toward the building, he saw the bodyguards below, all uniformly dressed in black suits. His heart sank further.

 

Fearing the menacing bodyguards, Liu Ying dared not approach too closely. However, he could still make out the sounds of things being smashed inside the building, punctuated by screams and cries.

 

Liu Ying retreated outside, where he could see the window:

 

A gaunt figure stood with their back to the window, their prominent spine pressed against the glass like a sharp blade.

 

That must be Yu Huan. He was shockingly thin, now hunched over slightly like a wounded animal, desperately seeking a sense of security.

 

What was he facing up there?

 

Liu Ying’s heart raced with anxiety, but he was utterly helpless.

 

The figure upstairs trembled more violently, and Yu Huan seemed to shout something before turning to open the window and jump.

 

His movements were fluid and decisive, without a moment’s hesitation. He wasn’t threatening the person inside; he truly intended to leap to end it all.

 

“No!” Liu Ying cried out involuntarily.

 

He could almost see the ethereal youth, like a sprite, throwing himself into the embrace of nature amidst the swirling snow. His face wore an unprecedented serenity, as if finally freed from an unspeakable torment.

 

In that instant, the world lost its color, and all sounds vanished.

 

Yu Huan could only hear Liu Ying’s distant roar and the thunderous pounding of his own heart, the two sounds merging into a strange calm.

 

Even if the fall wouldn’t kill him, even a moment of peace would be worth it.

 

But the pain never came. Something gripped his waist, pulling him away from the windowsill.

 

When Liu Ying regained his senses, the window was already closed, and Yu Huan had vanished, taken away by the person inside.

 

He still remembered Yu Huan’s despairing expression as he was pulled back—like a bird about to take flight, its wings cruelly torn away.

 

Liu Ying stood frozen, regret gnawing at him. If he hadn’t boarded that plane, if he had returned to find Yu Huan, would everything have been different?

 

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FOOTNOTE

 

Narcissus – In “The Little Prince,” the name Narcissus doesn’t appear directly. However, the concept of narcissism, which is a term derived from the Greek myth of Narcissus, is explored through the characters, specifically the character of the King, and also to some extent, the Rose. The myth of Narcissus tells the story of a beautiful young man who falls in love with his own reflection and pines away, ultimately transforming into a flower.