The Zhou family had hinted around about when the two of them would get married, but neither of them said a word on the subject. Seeing them like this, the elders stopped asking. As long as the kids were happy and living well, that was enough. If they kept bringing it up, they might only annoy them.
Coconut trees lined the surroundings, and the air carried a sticky heat mixed with the sweet fragrance of mangoes. As soon as the holiday started, Zhou Chiye immediately dragged Ji Zhaoxi out for a trip. He wanted absolute privacy, just the two of them.
Far from the chaos of City A, they wandered through the arcade streets of the old town. Spotting a stall selling clear-grain cooling dessert not far ahead, they sat down.
“Boss, two bowls of Qingbu Liang.”
Zhou Chiye kissed Ji Zhaoxi’s forehead and leaned lazily against her.
So in love.
Ji Zhaoxi held the porcelain bowl, sipping the coconut milk slowly. Zhou Chiye was still taking photos, so she scooped up a spoonful of mung beans and held it to his lips. He took it naturally, closing his mouth around it.
After they finished eating, they enjoyed the breeze for a while before strolling back leisurely. The pace of life here was slow, and everyone they passed on the street wore a smile.
The sunset painted the sea a warm orange. As they walked, it wasn’t long before they started playfully chasing each other.
The sea breeze lifted the hem of Ji Zhaoxi’s dress. Zhou Chiye carried her on his back, her sandals dangling from his hand, as he strolled unhurriedly toward the hotel.
Streetlights flickered on one by one, and their shadows merged together.
Ji Zhaoxi pressed her cheek against his neck and closed her eyes.
When they returned to the hotel room, the deep blue sea glimmered outside the window, and the rhythmic sound of waves rose and fell.
After showering, they chatted idly about this and that. Midway through, Zhou Chiye suddenly sat up straight and spoke seriously.
“I’ve decided to fulfill my duty.”
Ji Zhaoxi laughed in frustration: “No one’s asking you to have that duty at all!”
Zhou Chiye pretended he hadn’t heard her. He decided for himself that he had that duty.
The darkened suite, with no lights on, showed only a few scattered fishing fires flickering in the waves outside. The surf kept crashing against the rocky shore, and tourists in sandals wandered nearby.
The room was filled with the scent of bath products. Zhou Chiye’s breath burned hot, and every time it brushed across her skin, her breathing quickened. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she instinctively arched her neck.
He gently stroked her back, leaning down a little. His short hair tickled her neck, its feel warm with a faint coolness. Zhou Chiye’s ears were already bright red.
On the bedside table sat a plate of chilled cherries from the hotel—brought too long ago, now no longer cool.
In the faint moonlight that slipped in, her eyes glazed over with mist, her face flushed deep crimson.
His Adam’s apple moved restlessly, the abrupt sound of his swallow reaching her ears. Ji Zhaoxi couldn’t help but call his name, and he finally stopped “feeding,” planting a reassuring kiss on her lips.
So adorable.
He adjusted the covers. The white porcelain bowl on the nightstand wobbled and fell straight off, its few chilled cherries rolling across the floor before disappearing into the darkness.
Ji Zhaoxi wrapped her arms around Zhou Chiye’s neck, closing her eyes and burying herself in his embrace.
Zhou Chiye pressed his face against her shoulder, breathing in her scent.
“That first time you played the fake accident—was it on purpose?” Zhou Chiye suddenly asked.
This question meant a lot to him.
Ji Zhaoxi shook her head lazily. “No. The second time, at the racetrack—that one was.”
Zhou Chiye was insufferably smug, gently biting her shoulder.
“I knew it.”
The clock in the room ticked steadily, and Zhou Chiye’s mind began to wander again. He cleared his throat softly.
“If we both died tomorrow, what would you say to me? Three words.”
It was obvious, wasn’t it? If she couldn’t guess, it meant she didn’t love him!
Ji Zhaoxi felt his heart pounding fiercely against her. She was silent for a long time—so long that Zhou Chiye nearly shook her awake. Then she murmured,
“Thank you.”
The air went still.
The words Zhou Chiye had prepared stuck in his throat. A sour ache surged through him, drowning all reason. His eyes reddened. He gritted his teeth and turned his head away, silent.
What kind of grown man cries?
Ji Zhaoxi, lying on top of him, gently wiped his tears away. But they kept falling, heavier and heavier.
Zhou Chiye always felt that her heart held too many people and things. If he could ever see the order in her heart, he knew he would be dead last.
Ji Zhaoxi watched him weep in silence. She sighed, then kissed his tears.
“Don’t cry anymore,” she said softly. “I love you.”
She knew what he wanted to hear.
Zhou Chiye buried his face in her chest, his tears soaking through her clothes.
A sly fool.
She knew exactly what he wanted to hear, yet she still let him cry first.
But with her, he didn’t need to save face anymore.
---
In the open-plan office, keyboards clattered incessantly. Silver elevator doors slid open and shut, and the trash bins overflowed with empty coffee cups.
Ji Huaichuan worked mechanically, numb. As a child, he’d dreamed of working in an office building—it had seemed so classy. In college, he’d fantasized about joining Wanwei one day.
Now he’d achieved it all, and he wished he could go back and slap both his younger and college self!
Whenever the team leader was away, he was always the first to leave.
Outside, heavy dark clouds pressed down. Wind rushed in, rustling the papers on desks. Nearby colleagues quickly shut the windows.
Ji Huaichuan glanced at the umbrella tucked inside his bag and smirked.
Someone was bound to be caught without an umbrella again. Not him—he always came prepared.
The moment the clock hit quitting time, Ji Huaichuan grabbed his bag and bolted. Sure enough, a crowd of worried colleagues had already gathered downstairs.
Calmly, he pulled out his umbrella and was about to leave.
Just then, a voice came from behind.
“Can I share this with you?”
Bewildered, Ji Huaichuan turned around. The moment he saw the girl, his pupils narrowed. Wasn’t she his first client?
She smiled at him and stepped under his umbrella.
Ji Huaichuan glanced at her sidelong, then walked into the rain, holding the umbrella.
They walked side by side, keeping a faint distance between them. Apart from the patter of rain on the umbrella, there was no other sound.
The rain grew heavier, a damp chill saturating the air. Ji Huaichuan accidentally glanced down and noticed the umbrella tucked inside her tote bag.
He paused, then tilted his umbrella toward her.
Puddles on the ground splashed up, soaking both their pants cuffs. But neither stopped to adjust. They simply kept stepping forward through the rain-washed streets.
