He shakes his head. "No. It doesn't feel like a new year," he answers. It doesn't feel like it's going to be spring soon, which is how he always marks the new year, like the last days of cold.

He doesn't mind the cold, but those years without Wei Ying always felt more of a bite, a bitterness.

And so, he'd welcomed the spring, and had focused on things like watching Sizhui grow up instead.