—[Moments visible only to friends for the past three days]
This icy system prompt tore fresh gashes across Lin Huayan’s heart.
The access she’d used to secretly stalk Lou Yixuan’s Moments had been revoked. She’d never liked a single post, yet she’d devoured every one—and now, she might never see them again.
When had Lou Yixuan changed her settings?
Was it because of me?
Lou Yixuan had unpinned her post and set visibility to three days… because of me?
It had to be because of me.
By hiding away that Red Camellia she’d pieced together petal by petal, Lou Yixuan had hidden her away too, hadn’t she?
—Director Lin, could I head out first?
That morning at the hotel, Lou Yixuan had been so eager to leave.
This time, she’d withdrawn from her world in this way. She’d truly lost heart for her, hadn’t she?
Even though she’d managed to keep Lou Yixuan that night, she still remembered what Lou Yixuan had said: she wouldn’t give her another chance to push her away.
She wouldn’t take the initiative anymore, wouldn’t wait for her to figure things out.
After the New Year, they’d really just be colleagues.
So what was the point of her thinking anymore?
No matter what she thought, was it all useless now?
…
That same night, Lu Lingxuan accompanied Lou Yixuan to the airport to pick up their dry dad and dry mom, who were returning for the New Year.
“Big baby, let’s make a deal—how about I give the flowers to dry dad, and you give yours to dry mom? I’m, I’m so nervous, you won’t believe it—feel my heart, it’s pounding like crazy!”
Lu Lingxuan hadn’t been this afraid to see Zhao Qin before. But after learning the truth about the car accident, standing in her dry mom’s shoes, the more she thought about it, the more guilty she felt—too ashamed to face her.
“My flowers? Mom probably won’t accept them. They just landed—don’t make her upset right away.”
Lou Yixuan and Lu Lingxuan each held a bouquet.
Lou Yixuan’s was Dendrobium orchids paired with sunflowers; Lu Lingxuan’s was clivias paired with tulips.
They’d scoured multiple florists without finding a single shop that carried both Dendrobium orchids and clivias at once. They’d bought them from different stores, pieced them together, and even asked the florists for tips before wrapping them by hand.
“Fine.”
“Ling Xuan, thanks for coming with me.”
A week earlier, when her father called to say they were coming back for the New Year, Lou Yixuan was thrilled. She booked a deep clean for the house overnight.
She oversaw every corner herself, double-checked the cleaners’ work, and did plenty of organizing too.
Old, worn-out items—she didn’t toss them as trash but packed them away carefully.
Then she bought new ones to replace them.
In just two days, she’d transformed the house into something fresh and new, as if the three of them had always lived there—especially evident in the “upgraded” appliances.
The bustle of preparing for this little New Year reunion had temporarily let Lou Yixuan forget her heartbreak.
That night, she’d sat on the living room sofa in high spirits, sending her father photos and messages: [Dad, look—I’ve tidied up the house. I changed all the bedding in your and Mom’s room too. Waiting for you both to come home.]
Her father replied with just three words: [Hard work.]
She didn’t reply “Not hard at all” or “It’s what I should do”—too polite, too distant for family.
Her father had told her not to be overly grateful, but without them, she wouldn’t exist. How could she not be grateful? Especially to… her mother.
Her mother had poured immense, selfless effort into raising her to adulthood—something she could never repay in a lifetime.
“You’re thanking me? For picking up my dry parents? You gotta thank me?!”
Lu Lingxuan tsked, craning her neck to peer inside. “Dry dad and dry mom haven’t come back for New Year in two years. This year you came back, and so did they—shows how much they love you. You’re just like your parents: love locked deep in your heart, hard to put into words.”
“…” Lou Yixuan was speechless.
It was true. She knew her parents loved her, knew their love was subtle, never spoken outright. And she’d inherited that—unable to say “I love you” to them.
Yet she did love them so much, had always been so proud of having such capable parents who contributed to society and the nation.
“Quick, quick—Xuan Xuan, look!”
Lu Lingxuan suddenly shouted in excitement. “Is that your dad? Black suitcase, black overcoat, slim-framed glasses, gray turtleneck—dry dad’s still got that stylish swagger, not a bit less sharp than when he was young.”
Lou Yixuan spotted her father too—but only her father.
Lu Lingxuan waved wildly at Lou Weizhao, yelling as she dragged Lou Yixuan toward the end of the moving barrier: “Dry dad, dry dad—over here, we’re here!”
She hadn’t thought much of it. Maybe dry mom was still grabbing luggage or in the bathroom, running a bit late, so dry dad came out first to spare them the wait.
But Lou Yixuan had a bad feeling, her face gradually darkening.
“Dry dad, welcome home—we’ve missed you and dry mom so much.” Lu Lingxuan warmly took Lou Weizhao’s suitcase, nudging the stiff, frozen Lou Yixuan. “Xuan, what are you spacing out for?”
The flowers!
“You’ve really grown up now that you’re married and settled, Ling Xuan—looking all steady and mature.” Lou Weizhao spoke to his dry daughter first.
He turned to call “Yixuan,” but the flowers Lou Yixuan thrust forward blocked his words: “Dad, welcome home.”
With those words out, Lou Yixuan choked up.
Lou Weizhao took the flowers: “Thank you.”
It was that “thank you”—something he hadn’t even said to Lu Lingxuan—that shattered Lou Yixuan’s defenses completely. She looked down at the suitcase: “And Mom…?”
“Oh, your mom caught a cold right before the trip. Long-haul flights are too taxing, so I told her not to bother. Staying in familiar surroundings will help her recover faster.”
“Ah? Then…” Lu Lingxuan glanced between father and daughter, wanting to ask about dry mom’s condition.
“Yeah, better to stay in Australia.”
Lou Yixuan tugged Lu Lingxuan back just in time, stopping more questions. “Australia’s summer right now, winter here—the climate shift would be too drastic. Not good for recovery if she suddenly changed environments.”
Her big baby had been full of anticipation but hadn’t gotten to see her dry mom—Lou Yixuan was heartbroken, Lu Lingxuan could hear it, see it.
“Health comes first.”
She handed the clivias and tulips to Lou Yixuan, linking arms with Lou Weizhao. “I’ll drive us back. I know the way to the restaurant. Dry dad, my parents are waiting to welcome you. My wife’ll be there too—she’s like half your dry daughter. I won’t take a New Year’s red envelope this year, but you better prepare one for your dry daughter-in-law…”
…
On New Year’s Eve, Lou Yixuan and her father had reunion dinner at her young uncle’s house.
Her young uncle had only one son, four years younger than Lou Yixuan and part of this year’s grad school exam crowd—initial scores not out yet, unknown if he’d make the cut.
The cousins rarely interacted—different genders, different interests, little in common.
Once the lavish meal was served, Lou Weizhao video-called his wife so she could greet the grandma and the young uncle’s family, offering New Year’s blessings herself.
“Qin, take good care of yourself. If you’re too worn out, retire early—let Lou Weizhao take care of you. Hire a full-time nanny.”
“You just enjoy life. Spend your husband and daughter’s money freely—don’t make yourself suffer.”
As fellow women, wives, and mothers, the old lady treated both daughters-in-law sincerely, and they returned the favor—the mother-in-law relationships were harmonious.
Especially since Lou Weizhao had gone abroad early and Lou Yixuan started boarding school in junior high—Zhao Qin, as the eldest daughter-in-law, had dutifully cared for the elders for years.
Zhao Qin had a straightforward, unyielding integrity that rivaled any man’s.
Never gossiped, handled family and work matters meticulously—a strong woman and devoted wife.
The old lady adored her.
“Mom, I’m fine—just a cold. It’ll pass in a few days.”
“It’s a pity my eyes are failing—everything’s blurry. When are you coming back so I can see you again?”
The old lady’s eyesight was poor, hearing spotty depending on the day. Today, she was sharp.
On the video, Zhao Qin covered her mouth and coughed twice, her voice hoarse: “Next Spring Festival, I—cough—next Spring Festival, I’ll come back and stay longer to keep you company. We’ll enjoy life together.”
“Good, good—we’ll enjoy it together. We deserve to.”
Lou Yixuan, sitting beside Lou Weizhao, had already teared up listening. Even Grandma missed Mom so much—yet what had she done?
“Yixuan, say something to your mom.”
When Lou Weizhao aimed the camera at her, Lou Yixuan blinked rapidly to hide it, waving awkwardly.
“Mom, Happy New Year. T-take care of yourself.”
Zhao Qin nodded: “Mm, Happy New Year.”
Half a year—half a year since she’d heard her mother speak to her. Lou Yixuan nearly broke down in tears right there.
Under the table, her hand viciously pinched her thigh, holding back the sobs. She couldn’t cry. Not here.
If she cried, how would she explain it to everyone?
That she missed Mom too much?
What right did she have to say that?
After the call ended, the whole family of six sat down properly.
The old lady fished two red envelopes from her festive red puffer vest pocket: “My two good grandchildren, come—Grandma wishes you smooth careers and studies. Smooth sailing all around. As long as you’re happy, Grandma’s happy.”
“Thank you, Grandma.”
The grandson, still in school, stood without hesitation, bowing with outstretched arms to receive it. “Wishing Grandma health and longevity, peace every year!”
Lou Yixuan hesitated. She stepped out from her seat, squatting by Grandma: “Grandma, I’m working now. Didn’t we agree last time? It’s my turn to honor you and Young Uncle.”
She pulled out her two prepared red envelopes, offering them with both hands: “Wishing Grandma good fortune shining bright, health and longevity!”
“Good girl—Grandma accepts your blessing, and you accept Grandma’s.”
“Grandma…”
“Be good. To me, you’ll always be my little grandkids who never grow up. As long as I’m here, I’ll give you red envelopes every year. They say I’m blessed—where else would I share this fortune if not with you?”
At eighty, healthy as could be, with successful sons, capable daughters-in-law, and top university grandkids home and abroad—how wasn’t she blessed?
Lou Yixuan smiled, swapping red envelopes with Grandma: “Thank you, Grandma. I’ll definitely share in your good fortune.”
Then she offered the other to her aunt: “Young Uncle, Aunt—Happy New Year.”
The aunt glanced at her husband, who nodded, before accepting with a smile: “Yixuan, you’re a full adult in the working world now. Young Uncle and I wish you steady career climbs and smooth sailing in love.”
“Thank you, Young Uncle and Aunt.”
But before Lou Yixuan could sit, Grandma sighed wistfully: “What a wonderful child—truly wonderful. Thank goodness her mom insisted back then, or where would I have such an obedient, sensible, talented granddaughter? Lou Weizhao, don’t think being far away and successful makes you untouchable. If you dare mistreat her and her mother, you’d be an ungrateful, unfilial wretch…”
Lou Weizhao squirmed, feeling thorns prick his back.
His brother defused: “Mom, it’s the New Year—why bring that up? Big Brother’s back for reunion. New Year’s Eve is for joy and fresh starts.”
The sister-in-law chimed in: “Yeah, Mom—everyone knows Big Brother’s devoted to Big Sister-in-law, spoils Yixuan rotten. The three of them are doing great.”
“They were great before—I could see it. Whether they are now? I can’t see.”
“Grandma,” Lou Yixuan spoke up, voice sweet, “Dad treats us very well. Coming back to work was my stubborn choice—I love the culture here, miss my family and friends in China. Not because I was mistreated in Australia.”
“Best if that’s true.”
The old lady’s outburst came quick and faded fast.
The three generations feasted and chatted late into the night, past midnight, before Lou Yixuan and her father drove home.
On the first day of the New Year, they headed early to her young uncle’s again, ate breakfast, then went to sweep Grandpa’s tomb.
By noon on the second day, Lou Weizhao and his daughter visited the Lu family for New Year’s lunch.
Though both families were all full-grown adults without a child in sight, one person still received a red envelope.
Xu Yaning stared at the one Lou Weizhao offered, utterly at a loss.
Boss Xu, the grand restaurateur who owned three establishments, surprisingly found himself at a loss on how to handle a red envelope from an elder he’d only met for the second time—a near stranger.
“That day I got back, our meeting was so rushed I didn’t have time to prepare a gift,” Lou Weizhao said.
He glanced at Lu Lingxuan and gave her a meaningful look. “Last year, when you and Lingxuan tied the knot, we couldn’t make it back for even a glass of wedding wine. Lingxuan’s like half a daughter to me, and you two are united as one. This New Year’s gift is what her godmother and I, as elders, ought to give you. Wedding cash is wedding cash, and a meeting gift is a meeting gift—take it with peace of mind. Just this once.”
Lu Lingxuan hadn’t expected her godfather to take her casual chatter to lighten the mood so seriously to heart.
But it wasn’t surprising, really. She and Lou Yixuan had never lacked for money growing up—their own parents gave plenty, and so did their godparents.
“Wife, just take it. Don’t be shy,” Lu Lingxuan said, rubbing up against Xu Yaning from behind. “My goddad’s just like my real dad. Or think of it as him chipping in for his daughter’s meals. We’ll invite Xuan Baby over more often and fatten her up into a big chubby girl.”
“Well… thank you, Uncle Lou,” Xu Yaning said. She didn’t call him “Goddad.”
If she didn’t overthink it, she was only a dozen years younger than Lu Lingxuan and about the same gap from Lu Lingxuan’s parents.
Being partners with someone a dozen years younger while calling people a dozen years older “Mom” and “Dad” felt a bit awkward.
She had to call Lu Ba and Lu Ma that way, and she’d grown used to it over time.
But facing Lingxuan’s godfather—this man who seemed far more stern and aloof than Lu Ba—”Goddad” was a title she truly couldn’t bring herself to say.
Fortunately, Lou Weizhao didn’t mind, and neither Lu Lingxuan’s family nor anyone else insisted she match Lu Lingxuan’s way of addressing him.
Today’s meal was a family banquet, the atmosphere even warmer and more loving than the welcome dinner at the hotel.
By one in the afternoon, the two big men still hadn’t left the table.
Nannan video-called Lu Lingxuan: “Mommy, Little Aunt, how about we go north to see the snow? My treat—I have my New Year’s money!”
Lou Yixuan leaned in. “Baby, what about me? Aren’t you inviting Big Sis Lou?”
“Of course, of course! Big Sis Lou, if you come, you can room with me so Mommy and Little Aunt can have their couple’s world.”
“Oh my, whose little princess is this? Whose sweet little padded jacket?” Lu Lingxuan laughed brightly, smugly leaning into Xu Yaning. “Oh, it’s ours!”
Lu Ma scooted over. “Nannan’s on video?”
At the mention of his granddaughter’s name, the half-drunk Lu Ba perked right up. “Is that Nannan? Quick, let Nannan see her god-grandpa!”
Lou Weizhao knew about Nannan and had seen her photos.
On the very day Lu Lingxuan and Xu Yaning got their marriage certificate, Lu Lingxuan had solemnly sent them all the family photos from far-off Australia.
“Goddad, here—this is my daughter, your god-granddaughter, Nannan.”
Lu Lingxuan held up her phone and sidled up behind Lou Weizhao, moving it in front of him. “Nannan, this is Big Sis Lou’s daddy. You should call him God-Grandpa.”
“Wow! God-Grandpa, you’re so handsome!”
“And my God-Grandma?”
“God-Grandpa’s so handsome, and Little Aunt Lou’s so pretty too—God-Grandma must be super super beautiful.”
…
Nannan’s sweet talk rivaled Lu Lingxuan’s. Lou Weizhao’s perpetually stern face broke into a kindly smile—the kind unique to men in their fifties or sixties.
A few minutes later, Lu Lingxuan returned to the sofa with her phone.
The real family of three hashed out plans for a winter trip north, but Lou Yixuan politely declined their invitation, citing her weekend classes.
Once Lu Lingxuan finished coordinating the destination and travel dates with her wife and daughter, she realized Lou Yixuan was no longer on the sofa.
Xu Yaning nodded toward the fluttering curtains. “Go keep her company. Grab your coat—and hers too.”
