Chapter 59

They all remembered that day but never mentioned it again afterward. They acted as if nothing had happened, and life continued steadily and uneventfully. Of course, their goals remained the same, and so did their worries.

On Wednesday, Chongqing cleared up. New Year’s Eve was that night. Jian Shichu took Wen Zhixu to the Mid-Mountain Restaurant—she’d reserved the day off in advance. The restaurant’s interior and exterior had been redone.

Actually, the changes weren’t huge overall, but it was a bit different from what Wen Zhixu had seen last time. They were eating new dishes off the menu. Wen Zhixu had heard that this New Year, all of Jian Shichu’s relatives were coming to the Mid-Mountain Restaurant for reunion dinner.

So she’d hang up a “closed for business” sign ahead of time. Wen Zhixu had tentatively booked a flight home for the 15th.

In the private room

Jian Shichu didn’t eat herself. She just stood to the side, picking food for her.

“Try this.” Jian Shichu’s chopsticks were already in Wen Zhixu’s bowl.

Wen Zhixu saw the expectant look in her eyes and swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue. She lowered her head and took two bites of the eggplant in her bowl.

“I’m full.” Wen Zhixu looked at her.

“Then drink some soup.”

Wen Zhixu still looked at her. “I’m full.”

With things at this point, Jian Shichu didn’t push. She crossed her arms and leaned back. “Fine, then don’t eat.”

After Wen Zhixu set down her chopsticks, she looked at her. “Why celebrate New Year’s here?”

Jian Shichu smiled and took her hand. “I’ll take you to see the fireworks.”

How familiar was the phrase “I’ll take you to see the fireworks”? It could be the once-endless tossing and turning in bed, or the wish fulfillment of today.

That instant of romance suspended in midair let Wen Zhixu grasp the meaning of eternity.

The rooftop of the Mid-Mountain Restaurant was a little cold from the wind. When it tousled her hair, Jian Shichu draped a cape over her. Colors exploded in her pupils—whoosh, then bang—joy mingled in the clamor.

Wen Zhixu pulled a box from her pocket. “Happy New Year.”

“What’s this?” Jian Shichu smiled. Her voice sounded tiny under the fireworks. When she opened it, the necklace in the center gleamed silver in the light.

It was the same style as the ones she usually wore, with letters dangling in the middle. Wen Zhixu had observed her carefully before picking this gift.

“I’ll put it on for you.” Wen Zhixu unclasped the one around her neck and carefully tucked it into the box.

Jian Shichu was a touch taller. She bent slightly, smiling down at her. The chill of Wen Zhixu’s fingertips slipped against her neck. Breathing filled the air.

“It looks great. Thank you, Xiao Xu.” Jian Shichu toyed with the letters on the pendant. The fireworks kept bursting. She leaned in and hugged Wen Zhixu.

Wen Zhixu said, “We’ll only get better from here. I love you so much.”

Wen Zhixu said it calmly, gently—she was always like that. But she didn’t know Jian Shichu would cherish those words for a long, long time.

These past few years, Jian Shichu had wondered in her dreams if Wen Zhixu had ever liked her. Love? She hadn’t even dared dream of that.

The fireworks continued. The fifth year was over. Last year today, Jian Shichu had been right here too—but no fireworks, no Wen Zhixu. Just her.

Hearing those words, Jian Shichu’s eyes reddened. She drew in a breath of cold wind. “I love you too. Not just sweet talk—from the heart.”

Downstairs, the staff’s unified countdown pierced the floors. Everyone anticipated the New Year. Amidst shifting scenes and people, hope always stirred for what’s new.

At the final second, a stray lock of hair blew across Wen Zhixu’s cheek. Jian Shichu brushed it aside with her index finger and leaned in to kiss her.

No rush in the motion, leaving room for breath, for easing in. Under the fireworks, the kiss felt even more romantic.

This feeling was probably like: Better to join you for a grand adventure than just whisper heartfelt words.

—

New Year’s Day passed, and the festive air began to thicken. The photos from the photographer earlier had been recognized as her online, reposted for two days before dying down.

Winter in Chongqing meant heavy fog. That morning, when Wen Zhixu drew the curtains, a hazy blur shrouded everything.

Wang Yun brought some sausages over. Jian Shichu usually checked the restaurant in the afternoon, so when Wang Yun arrived, she was still in bed.

Right then, Wang Yun trailed after Jian Shichu, nagging. “Doudou, you’re impossible. What time is it? Xiao Xu’s already up.”

Jian Shichu had just showered—no matter the weather, she always showered in the mornings.

“Mom, it’s only nine.” Jian Shichu glanced back at her, then went to Wen Zhixu’s side and took the ladle. “I’ll handle it.”

Wang Yun said, “So what if it’s nine? Office workers are already at their desks.”

Wen Zhixu stepped aside for Jian Shichu, retreating two steps before rising on tiptoe to reach the cupboard.

Wang Yun saw her grab three bowls and hurried to say, “Xiao Xu, no need for mine. I’ve eaten. I’ve got things to do—gotta head out now.”

As she spoke, Wang Yun snagged her bag from the sofa. The shoe cabinet clicked open and shut. Wen Zhixu hurried after.

“Director Wang, be careful on the road.” Wen Zhixu’s eyes lingered on her shoes.

Jian Shichu steadied Wen Zhixu’s shoulders with a hand. Fine fuzz from her sweater drifted onto Wen Zhixu’s hair. She turned to meet Wang Yun’s gaze. “Drive safe. Fog’s thick.”

Wang Yun glanced back, tone flat. “I know. Heading out.” She seemed about to say more, but Jian Shichu’s smile deflated her.

With Wang Yun gone, the house fell quiet.

Jian Shichu turned back to the table. “Mom nags me every single visit.”

“Didn’t I tell you Director Wang was coming today? Get up early.” Wen Zhixu grabbed a yogurt from the fridge.

Breakfast had come from downstairs. Wen Zhixu had simmered porridge separately—the porcelain bowl scalding from the heat.

Jian Shichu looked up at her. “Next time, let’s stay up till dawn then. Sleep after Mom leaves.”

Wen Zhixu’s hand brushed the spoon. Her eyes met Jian Shichu’s, earnest and plain. Three seconds later: “If you’re not scared of the exhaustion, sure.”

The air thickened that instant. Steam rose, heating even Jian Shichu’s spoon. She set it down.

Interest gone, she chuckled dryly. “Last night was 3:30 to sleep. Now…” She checked her phone, eyes flicking back. “9:10. Rounding up to ten for you—that’s 6.5 hours short. Make it up.” She stood.

Wen Zhixu blinked out of her daze, remembering Jian Shichu didn’t go for that. She skipped the spoon and dodged fast.

Three steps in, her waist was caught. A spin, and she was in her arms. “Don’t fool around.”

“You’re the one fooling.” Jian Shichu’s voice brushed her ear.

“Okay, my bad. Don’t fool around—my back and legs are still sore.” Wen Zhixu’s voice softened. Jian Shichu’s grip eased.

“Where’s it hurt? Sit.” Jian Shichu yanked the chair out—the scrape harsh.

She crouched before Wen Zhixu, squeezing her calf. “Better?”

Wen Zhixu felt the ache and limpness. The squeeze drew a sharp breath. “Eat first. It’ll pass soon.”

Wen Zhixu leaned in, gripped Jian Shichu’s wrist, and tugged her up.

The porridge had cooled. Spoon clinked the rim. Wen Zhixu’s gaze darted to Jian Shichu, words hovering, until a peeled egg landed in her plate.

Then she relaxed. “I’m heading to the bookstore with An Ran later—she’s off today. What for dinner?”

Jian Shichu scrolled her phone. “Go ahead later. I’ll do dishes. I’ll cook tonight. Your pick?”

“Anything. You cook, I eat.” Wen Zhixu shot back quick. Last porridge spoonful down, she slid the egg to Jian Shichu.

Jian Shichu watched her rise.

“Gotta rush—bowls on you.” Wen Zhixu smiled faintly, phone in hand, darting to the bedroom.

“Go easy.” Jian Shichu’s eyes tracked her. Clearing bowls, she watched Wen Zhixu shrug into her coat en route to the door.

Wen Zhixu’s clothes hung crooked when she left, down jacket collar askew.

“Heading out.”

Jian Shichu mumbled back, focused on the table—till the door banged shut. Then she lazily lifted her eyes to it. She put the bowls in the dishwasher, cleared the table, and grabbed her phone.

Pulling her hair tie off with one finger, she checked the time, sent two quick WeChat messages, grabbed her coat, and followed her out.

Wen Zhixu had called a car on her phone to save time. The sales rep messaged: buyer not there yet. She could wait and haggle for the wedding dress.

Workday today, so she’d name-dropped An Ran’s day off to Jian Shichu. Nerves jangled the whole ride. She planned to offer a highball price. If they bit…

Traffic was light, and she arrived half an hour later. The sales consultant saw her breathless and asked, “Is she here?”

“She’s still en route, Miss Wen. There’s no rush,” the consultant said, pouring hot water.

Wen Zhixu replied, “Thanks. If there’s no deal, I’ll pick another.”

Last time, Wen Zhixu had left her contact info with the sales associate and sent a small red packet, asking them to keep an eye on when customers arrived to buy that wedding dress.

“Good, but my colleague said there’s another lady coming today to buy that wedding dress too.” The sales consultant lowered her voice.

Wen Zhixu let out a soft breath. “No worries. Some things depend on fate. Don’t worry, I know what to do.”

Though she said that, she was still quite worried. The first thing that caught her eye was always hard to let go of—it wasn’t that the others weren’t pretty; she just trusted her first choice.

As she spoke, the sales associate’s gaze shifted forward, her smile widening. “Mr. Wu, you’ve arrived.”

Wen Zhixu glanced back. That man stood under the light in a black coat, a suit underneath, instantly sending a chill through her heart. Perhaps this wasn’t a coincidence.

But the look in Wu Yang’s eyes as he gazed at her was clearly one of surprise. “Miss Wen, long time no see.”

Wu Yang glanced around, his gaze sweeping past the sales associate as he asked, “Here to buy a wedding dress?”

Wen Zhixu slowly stood up, not responding to him.