"Yesterday afternoon, the National Science Conference grandly commenced at the Great Hall, with delegations from 30 provinces, municipalities, and autonomous regions, including Taiwan..."
As soon as Yan Jigang left and Qi Fang was away, the house always felt like something was missing. Even the radio broadcasts were now listened to by Qi Yanyu.
The little one, just like his uncle back in the day, eagerly leaned over the table to listen and asked Yan Xue, "Is this the conference Dad went to attend?"
"Yes, this is the one. He’s representing himself and his teacher," Yan Xue replied.
She had just managed to put her youngest daughter to sleep. The one-month-old baby’s face was soft and plump, her tiny fists curled up by her cheeks—no longer deemed "ugly" by her older brother.
Speaking of her brother, the moment he heard his father mentioned on the radio, he declared, "I’m going to attend this conference too when I grow up. I’ll drive there."
The boy had grown taller over the past couple of years, but his passion for cars hadn’t waned. He’d been eyeing his father’s bicycle for a while now, itching to try it out.
The Second Old Lady was nearby, tidying up. "Of course, drive there. Take your great-grandma along too," she said with a chuckle.
Then she picked up a pressure cooker and asked Yan Xue, "Can we mail this? It was quite expensive—seems a waste to give it away."
The graduate school of the University of Science and Technology had been established in Yanjing on the 1st of this month, and both Yan Xue and Qi Fang were set to move. Naturally, they couldn’t leave the Second Old Lady and the children behind.
So, just a few years after following her granddaughter and son-in-law from the countryside to the city, the Second Old Lady was now preparing to move with them to the capital. It felt surreal, like something she wouldn’t have dared dream of.
This time, however, the move was much farther, and they couldn’t possibly take everything like before—especially not the livestock.
Their two dogs were getting old, and since they’d originally come from the Liu family, Liu Weiguo offered to take them back to live out their days. The Second Old Lady also planned to give away the remaining chickens they couldn’t take.
As for the rest of their belongings, Yan Xue, who had experience shipping goods, decided to send them all to Yanjing as less-than-truckload freight.
Hearing the Second Old Lady’s question, she glanced at the pressure cooker. "We can mail this. Anything that’s not too bulky can be mailed."
The cooker had originally been bought for cultivating bacterial strains, but after two years, the pilot project was up and running, and now it was just for household use.
Reassured, the Second Old Lady set it down and turned to the furniture they’d have to leave behind. "What a shame. Everything’s still in good condition."
She was frugal by nature, repairing and mending things endlessly, unable to bear parting with even a single item.
As they were packing, someone knocked at the door. "Excuse me, does Comrade Qi Fang and Comrade Yan Xue live here?"
Yan Xue went to answer and found a uniformed officer outside. "I’m Yan Xue. What can I do for you?"
The officer stepped inside and pulled out a notebook. "We’d like to ask you some questions regarding Wu Xingde’s work during his time in Changshan two years ago."
So, they were here to investigate Wu Xingde. The ongoing political reckoning, after a year, had finally reached him.
Truth be told, Wu Xingde had indeed tried to divorce his current wife after returning, but some boats are easier to board than to disembark—especially when his wife had been the one who initiated the divorce in the past.
Back then, to secure the divorce, her elder brother had driven her ex-husband’s family to their deaths. No matter what excuses Wu Xingde made now, his wife saw right through him.
He’d eagerly latched onto her family for their power and influence, and now that they were in decline, he wanted to cut ties? As if she’d let him.
His claims of "extricating himself first" so he could "help them later" were laughable—did he think she was a fool?
Wu Xingde had no technical skills to fall back on, and as a twice-divorced older man, his chances of finding another influential wife to bail him out were slim.
So the grand ship he’d so eagerly boarded now entangled him, dragging him down into the depths.
Yan Xue still had the evidence. Even if this round of investigations didn’t reach Wu Xingde, she’d submit it when the internal purge came in a few years.
Not that she needed to exaggerate. Wu Xingde had dug his own grave, tying himself too closely to those people. Even without her embellishments, his fate was sealed.
But just as she’d seen off the investigators, two more arrived the next day—this time to reopen the case of Su Changqing.
Qi Fang and Wei Shuxian’s appeal had finally been noticed and taken seriously. For a moment, even Yan Xue felt a pang of emotion, knowing they’d waited so long for this day.
Qi Fang wasn’t home to hear the news firsthand, so she informed the officers that he was in Yanjing attending the science conference.
They’d come based on his address and weren’t aware of his absence. After gathering some details, they left.
Yan Xue immediately wrote Qi Fang a letter about it, but before it could reach him, he’d already met the investigators himself.
They found him at his hotel after a day of conference sessions. The moment he saw them, inexplicably, he thought of Yan Xue.
She’d be happy about this, he knew—for him, for Wei Shuxian, and for their teacher.
To his own surprise, Qi Fang felt calmer than expected. After informing his roommate, he sat down with the officers in the hotel.
They were there to verify details, particularly the letters he’d submitted, repeatedly asking if their contents were accurate.
Su Changqing had been branded a traitor for his time studying abroad and his correspondence with overseas contacts. Qi Fang’s evidence consisted mainly of those letters and their translations.
But the originals had long been destroyed, leaving no proof that what he’d submitted was genuine—hence their visit.
Qi Fang wasn’t one for lengthy explanations. Instead, he asked, "Do you have any books or materials I haven’t read?"
The officers were taken aback, but those assigned to review old cases weren’t fools. They fetched an old newspaper—a recent issue of the Yanjing Daily, which Qi Fang couldn’t have seen yet.
Qi Fang read it silently for a while, then handed it back and proceeded to recite the entire thing word for word.
The officers had never witnessed such a display. Their initial disbelief gradually gave way to awe, then numb acceptance.
When he finally stopped, Qi Fang looked at them. "My teacher’s letters contained academic content. I’ve read them all."
Because he’d read them, he knew what they said—and he knew Wu Xingde did too. That knowledge had fueled his fury.
But no matter how dark the times, even the longest night eventually gives way to dawn.
Those who trample on humanity, morality, and the law will ultimately pay the price for their actions.
Those who work diligently, pour their hearts into their efforts, and give silently will eventually receive recognition and justice.
After seeing off the guests, Qi Fang picked up a pen and wrote a letter to Yan Xue, sharing the news with the one who had accompanied him through the darkest times.
No sooner had the letter been sent than he received one from Yan Xue—proof that she, too, had immediately thought of sharing her news with him.
Qi Fang traced his fingers over the gentle, elegant handwriting, feeling a sense of calm he had never known before. This, he realized, was the guiding light of his future.
To have someone who thought of him, understood him, and shared his thoughts—this warmth was a beacon he had already embraced before the long night had even ended.
On March 31st, the 14-day Science and Technology Conference concluded successfully at the Great Hall, followed by an awards ceremony.
Qi Fang took the stage twice—first to accept an award for outstanding project achievements, and then for his recognition as an Advanced Scientific Researcher.
He was the only one to receive the latter honor as a primary contributor rather than a project leader, leaving a deep impression on many.
Gazing at the familiar name on the Outstanding Achievement certificate, Qi Fang fell silent for a long moment before mailing the hard-earned award to Wei Shuxian, his late mentor’s wife.
This honor belonged to his teacher, and it was only right that Wei Shuxian knew his efforts had not been in vain.
The conference’s recognition of Su Changqing also signaled that the day of his vindication was near.
Sure enough, in April, the People’s Daily published an article exonerating Professor Su Changqing, who had died wrongfully imprisoned, restoring his reputation.
Reading the long list of contributions attributed to Su Changqing, Qi Fang said nothing for a while, then silently pulled Yan Xue into his arms.
He mailed this newspaper, too, to Wei Shuxian—a weighty token of their long-awaited justice.
To his surprise, Wei Shuxian had also been thinking of him. She sent a thick letter, along with news that the province would hold a burial ceremony for Su Changqing’s ashes.
Not only that, but Su Changqing’s portrait would be enshrined in Qinghua University’s archives, honoring him as one of its most distinguished pioneers.
“Let’s go too,” Yan Xue suggested after reading the letter. “We should see him off properly.”
They had already been preparing to leave in a few days—Qi Fang had just found a place near Yanjing University. But this was more important.
The only complication was their Valentine’s Day baby, still nursing, who would have to accompany them to meet the man who had shaped Qi Fang’s life.
The couple didn’t delay. They arrived in Qing City the day before the ceremony. Wei Shuxian had already returned but had not gone back to the home she once shared with Su Changqing.
Years had turned her hair white, her face lined with age, her expression serene now that her long-held wish had been fulfilled.
Yan Xue knew at a glance: nothing could hold Wei Shuxian back from joining Su Changqing now.
Only when she saw little Qi Zhiyu did a spark of warmth return to her eyes. “Her eyes are just like Xiao Fang’s,” she remarked. “The rest is all you.”
Yan Xue didn’t know why Qi Fang’s almond-shaped eyes dominated their children’s features—both took after him, neither inheriting her round ones.
But this baby had a gentler temperament than her brother, at least toward her father. Once, Qi Fang had even sighed, “Why couldn’t they both be daughters?”
Clearly, he still remembered his son’s early rebelliousness, though Qi Yanyu had long forgotten and now bonded with his father over machinery and cars.
Little Qi Zhiyu couldn’t attend the cemetery, so Wang Zhengrong’s wife looked after her while her parents paid their respects.
The day of the burial was overcast but dry, the heavy sky lending solemnity to the cemetery.
Nearly a hundred people attended—local officials, university leaders, colleagues, and former students of Su Changqing.
Whatever their past actions or present thoughts, Su Changqing finally received the honor and respect he deserved.
Unlike in the original timeline, where Wu Xingde had stolen his research, leaving Su Changqing unnamed in the annals of hydrostatic studies.
Among those rehabilitated, he had been a footnote, his brilliance overshadowed by Wu Xingde’s theft.
No wonder Qi Fang had hated Wu Xingde—and himself—enough to burn out his life by his forties.
But now, everything was different. Su Changqing’s legacy remained intact, and Qi Fang stood healthy by her side.
Yan Xue followed Qi Fang in bowing before Su Changqing’s grave, laying a white flower in tribute to this admirable mentor.
And to all the scientists and researchers who had suffered unjustly—may they, like Su Changqing, find belated justice.
Afterward, Qi Fang took Yan Xue to visit his grandfather’s resting place—the man who had raised him.
A scholar from a well-off family, the old man had been fortunate to pass away before the turmoil began.
At peace in these green hills, he slept beside his two sons, lost too soon.
On their uncles’ tombstones, Yan Xue saw the grandfather’s calligraphy—bold, sweeping strokes with an untamed spirit.
Having buried three children, he must have needed that resilience to endure.
It reminded her of Qi Fang’s handwriting, and the name he later adopted. “Did your grandfather choose your style name?”
“Yes, on his deathbed,” Qi Fang answered, unsurprisingly. “He wanted me to be free and open-hearted.”
Hence the character “Shu.” A bitter irony, given how trapped he had been in the original story.
“And your given name?” That one didn’t seem like the old man’s style.
Sure enough, it wasn’t. “My father chose it, just before Liberation.” Qi Fang glanced at her, anticipating her next question. “My brother was fighting at the time. He hoped for victory.”
"These are all such simple wishes," Yan Xue said with a laugh. "They're all good, each in their own way."
Qi Fang gave a quiet "Mm" in response, then after a moment, glanced at her and added, "Xue is also very nice."
"It's so common," Yan Xue replied. "You can find tons of people with this name—Miss Yan shares it with me."
"It's different," Qi Fang insisted. How could she ever be the same as anyone else?
In this world, she alone was his unexpected joy. Only when she bore this name did it carry a unique meaning.
As the two finished paying their respects at the gravesite and began descending, the overcast sky suddenly parted, revealing a sliver of clear blue.
The abrupt brightness made them both squint before they turned to look at each other.
"Can you carry me again?"
"Can I carry you again?"
They spoke at the same time, then exchanged glances, laughter flickering in their eyes.
Qi Fang's smile lit up his face beautifully, as if illuminated from within. Yan Xue couldn't resist reaching out, brushing her fingers lightly against the corner of his eye.
"So this is how you look when you smile," she murmured, tapping there again before he caught her hand.
Qi Fang moved as if to sweep her into his arms, but she twisted away playfully, quickly looping her arms around his back instead.
Soon, he had her securely hoisted, giving her a slight bounce. "Seems like you've put on a little weight."
"I grew taller," Yan Xue insisted, though she’d only gained two centimeters since they first met.
But two centimeters still counted. Peeking over his shoulder, she studied his face. "Are you saying I'm heavy?"
"No, it's good," he replied, his tone just ambiguous enough to make her suspect something cheeky lurked beneath.
Yet his back was broad, his hold steady. Yan Xue buried her face against him. "This is nice."
Even if this world lagged thirty years behind the convenience of her past life, it had filled so many of her voids and regrets.
Here, she had a thriving career, a university dream nearing completion, family, children—and him.
And this sturdy back, always there to carry her, to hold her up, offering a haven when she was weary, a constant she could rely on whenever she turned around.
No matter how high she flew or how far she wandered, she would never be alone. This was the security she’d searched for across two lifetimes.
When Qi Fang murmured an "Mm," as if agreeing with her thoughts, she was about to say more when something felt off. "Are you taking the long way on purpose?"
His steps didn’t falter, his expression and voice perfectly calm. "No, this is the way down."
Yan Xue wasn’t fooled. "Who are you trying to trick? The climb up didn’t take this long."
She glanced around for proof. "We didn’t come this way earlier—I’m not blind."
This time, Qi Fang stayed silent. She smacked his shoulder lightly. "Alright, put me down. If we don’t hurry back, Zhiyu will be crying."
Sure enough, by the time they returned, their little one had been wailing for a while, earning Qi Fang a sharp glare from Yan Xue.
He didn’t dare protest, quietly fetching his wife’s bag and washing their daughter’s soiled diaper—this time, at least, without his usual stern expression.
When they finally returned to Changshan, it was time to prepare for their departure. Their house had already been sold, leaving only the move itself.
Most of their belongings had been shipped ahead, so they carried little, yet a crowd still came to see them off.
Liu Weiguo, Zhou Wenhui, Lang Yue'e, Guo Chang'an—even Gao Daidi, who had married years earlier, and the apprentices Yan Xue had trained.
Facing so many familiar faces, Yan Xue smiled. "Why such a full send-off? It’s not like Qi Fang and I will never come back."
This was where her dreams had taken root, where countless bonds and memories lingered. She’d return someday, and she knew Qi Fang felt the same.
Still, everyone escorted them to the train, waving until the figures shrank from view.
Two days later, the train pulled into Yanjing Station. Yan Xue and Qi Fang stepped down, carrying their child, their bags, supporting the Second Old Lady, and leading Qi Yanyu by the hand.
Yan Jigang, having gotten word of their arrival, was already waiting on the platform. "Over here! Sis, Grandma, this way!"
He jogged toward them, dressed in a plaid shirt, his scholarly air a far cry from the little boy who’d once wiped away tears in secret when seeing Yan Xue off.
Before Qi Fang could move to carry the Second Old Lady, Yan Jigang bent down and hoisted her onto his back. "Let me, Brother-in-law."
Walking steadily ahead, he’d finally grown into someone others could lean on.
Yan Xue watched, saying nothing more. She exchanged a glance with Qi Fang, then with their children in tow, stepped forward into their new life.
