(Twenty-Two and Twenty-Four)
As they disembarked from the plane, Le Qing’s manager took the bag from the drowsy model and nudged her gently to wake her up. "Take a proper break after this trip. You’ve got your postgraduate studies starting soon anyway. You’ve already lost weight—if people see you like this, they’ll be heartbroken."
Le Qing was the most naturally gifted model she had ever worked with. Since her accidental debut abroad during university, her popularity had remained sky-high both domestically and internationally. Fashion endorsements and opportunities poured in endlessly, and at such a young age, she had already achieved remarkable success.
But this also meant Le Qing had grown increasingly busy. Between fashion weeks and endless photoshoots over the past few months, she’d barely had any time off. If it weren’t for her sister’s wedding, which forced her to clear her schedule, she’d still be buried in work.
The manager couldn’t help but worry—given how closely certain people watched over Le Qing, she wouldn’t be surprised if those lost pounds were blamed on her.
After securing Le Qing’s hat, sunglasses, and mask to avoid recognition, the manager sighed. "Who’s picking you up?"
Still half-asleep, Le Qing answered without thinking, "Jiang Suizhi."
The manager thought, Of course.
Every time Le Qing returned from work, it was always Jiang Suizhi who came for her.
A few seconds later, Le Qing shook her head slightly. "No, wait—he’s supposed to be on a business trip abroad. Probably Mom and Dad."
A few days ago, her sister had mentioned that since Brother Yan was busy preparing for the wedding, most of the company’s responsibilities had fallen on Uncle Jiang and Jiang Suizhi. He’d been shuttling between countries nonstop, with no weekends to speak of.
Being a CEO was no different from being a model—work came first, holidays be damned.
And he’d probably have to work overtime just to make it to the wedding.
The manager gave her a sidelong glance. "Nothing going on between you two, right?"
Le Qing blinked. "Huh?"
"Weren’t there rumors about him visiting you a while back?" the manager said. "Not that I doubt it’s just family stuff, but your sister and his brother were like family too, and now..."
Le Qing fell silent for a moment before replying, "We’ll cross that bridge when we get there."
"Wait—what?"
The manager was stunned.
Did that mean… it wasn’t impossible?
Honestly, even Le Qing wasn’t entirely sure.
Her relationship with Jiang Suizhi had become murky ever since high school—or more precisely, since the day before his college entrance exams, when he let go of her hand.
Before that, she’d always seen him as an older brother, family, and nothing more.
But from that moment on, she’d found herself paying attention to his every word and action, as if searching for hidden clues.
At twenty-two, she wasn’t naive enough to confuse familial affection with romantic feelings. With anyone else, she could’ve answered definitively—but Jiang Suizhi was the exception.
They’d grown up together, from the days she called him gege to the moment she started using his name. Step by step, it all became habit—his constant presence, the way his world always put her first, the certainty that he’d be waiting for her whenever she returned.
Even after he started university, he never lived on campus, commuting daily between school and home just to pick her up after class.
She thought Jiang Suizhi treated her like family—but not quite.
To this day, she couldn’t think of the way he’d called her Qingqing when he released her hand without her heart skipping a beat.
As her career took off, she grew busier, and the distance between them fluctuated—sometimes close, sometimes far—leaving her emotions in constant flux.
Yet through it all, she slowly understood the meaning behind his words, "Why won’t you grow up?" and the look in his eyes that day.
Looking back, she suspected that "I want to hold your hand, but I can’t" might have been eighteen-year-old Jiang Suizhi’s way of confessing—both bold and restrained.
But she was still waiting—waiting until the day she could truly grow up and give him a clear, unwavering answer.
Drowsy and lost in thought, Le Qing instinctively followed her manager, relying on years of being cared for to navigate the airport while waiting for her parents.
But then the manager suddenly stopped. "Doesn’t look like your parents."
Le Qing lifted her head and immediately spotted the man standing not far away.
Even at twenty-four, with work responsibilities piling up, Jiang Suizhi wasn’t like Brother Yan, who always dressed in sharp suits. In private, he was as carefree and unrestrained as ever.
Every time they met, she didn’t see "Young CEO Jiang"—just Jiang Suizhi as he truly was.
By the time she noticed him, he’d already been watching her for who knew how long, his gaze as heavy as ever, his faint smile carrying an indescribable tenderness.
But unlike Brother Yan’s warm, gentle demeanor, Jiang Suizhi’s gentleness had an exclusivity to it—intense and deliberate.
Counting the days, it had been two months since they last saw each other.
Only now did Le Qing finally exhale, a tingling sense of relief washing over her.
"Thanks for your hard work," she said, snapping out of her thoughts as she took her bag from the manager. "You should rest too. I’ll head off now."
After being away for so long, she had plenty of luggage—but Jiang Suizhi always handled it without her lifting a finger.
The manager knew better than to play third wheel, offering a quick goodbye before leaving.
As Le Qing approached Jiang Suizhi, he reached out effortlessly to take her bag. "Tired?"
"Yeah." She tried to steady her erratic heartbeat and nodded weakly. "Haven’t slept well in days."
Then she asked, "Why are you back so early?"
Jiang Suizhi smirked. "What do you think?"
"I think it’s because of Brother Yan."
The man beside her tilted his head, lifting the brim of her hat with one hand. "You’ve got no conscience, kid."
"Who’re you calling ‘kid’?" She swatted his hand away. "I’m twenty-two. You’re only two years older—stop acting like you’re so much wiser."
"Twenty-two and still not grown up," he teased.
Le Qing paused before murmuring, "I have."
Jiang Suizhi’s steps faltered for a second, but he quickly resumed his usual pace, his tone casual as if it didn’t matter. "Oh? Prove it."
Since when did growing up require proof?
It wasn’t like turning eighteen, where you could throw a grand coming-of-age ceremony.
Le Qing shot back, "You never proved it to me when you grew up."
To her surprise, Jiang Suizhi laughed. "How do you know I didn’t?"
"Really?"
Jiang Suizhi didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out and gently patted her hat. "Rest well today. We’ll go after you’ve had enough rest."
"It’s too late," Le Qing shook her head. "Isn’t it the day after tomorrow?"
"It’s just the four of us anyway. Why does he care about picking an auspicious date?" Jiang Suizhi said dismissively. "It’s just about finding a time when all four of us are free."
Le Qing only found out that Jiang Yan and her older sister were together after starting university.
The two of them had announced the news suddenly and with great fanfare.
Her parents didn’t have any objections, but the ones who disapproved the most were Uncle Jiang and his family.
It wasn’t that they were unhappy with Le Yang—it was Jiang Yan and Jiang Suizhi they had issues with.
At the time, Jiang Suizhi had been exasperated. "What does this have to do with me?"
Then he glanced at Le Qing, who was sitting nearby eating a small cake and watching the drama unfold. "Our kid hasn’t even grown up yet."
Before Le Qing could react, Jiang Suizhi got smacked.
To Uncle Jiang and his family, it felt like the two daughters they’d watched grow up had been snatched away by two unworthy pigs. In their eyes, no one was good enough for the girls.
But it was all just talk. After Jiang Yan and Le Yang got together, they practically kicked their two sons out of the house and invited the girls to move in instead.
Unlike traditional weddings, Le Yang wasn’t someone who cared much for ceremonies. She believed promises didn’t need to be declared in front of a crowd—it was something private between her and Jiang Yan.
So on the day they got their marriage certificate, Jiang Yan immediately requested a year-long "honeymoon leave" from his family. The two packed their bags and set off to travel the world, treating it as their wedding journey. They planned to hold a small reception for family and friends after returning, but by then, it would just be a casual gathering where they’d only need to show up.
During their travels, they sent back wedding photos from every destination for their families to see.
So no matter where Le Qing was that year, she’d receive her sister’s "message in a bottle," as if witnessing countless weddings between her and Brother Yan.
Now, the year was up, and their final stop was a small town in southern China, where they planned to hold a wedding with just the four of them—the last event of their journey.
The younger siblings would serve as the best man and maid of honor.
For Le Yang, the first and most important person in her life had always been her little sister.
And for Jiang Yan, if not for his younger brother, he couldn’t guarantee he’d be living such a carefree, happy, and fulfilling life now. So he, too, held his brother in the highest regard.
That was why they both agreed—they needed a wedding, one that belonged only to the most special people in their lives.
That was the origin of the four-person wedding. No need for an auspicious date; as long as everyone was present, it was the best and luckiest arrangement fate could offer.
Admittedly, Jiang Suizhi had a point.
Once in the car, Le Qing relaxed as the familiar scent enveloped her. Jiang Suizhi’s car never had overpowering air fresheners or perfumes—just a faint hint of lemon, light enough not to feel stifling.
She took off all the miscellaneous items she was carrying and tossed them into the armrest compartment.
Seeing it packed full of things, Le Qing couldn’t help but laugh.
Though it was Jiang Suizhi’s car, he rarely kept his own belongings inside. Instead, it was stocked with women’s sunglasses, fresh masks, pink shawls, and blankets, along with regularly replenished snacks and drinks—all for Le Qing.
This time was no exception.
Le Qing pulled out a milk candy, her favorite kind, with a recent production date.
"I finished all the ones I took with me," she said.
Jiang Suizhi replied, "Figured as much."
Le Qing unwrapped the candy. "Then why didn’t you bring me more when you came to find me? You always used to."
No matter what she lacked, even things she hadn’t thought of, Jiang Suizhi would always replenish them. That was why she never felt like she was missing anything, even when abroad.
She teased, "Did you forget about me, gege?"
Just then, they reached a traffic light. In those few seconds of waiting, Jiang Suizhi turned to her. Just as she was about to pop the candy into her mouth, he suddenly snatched it away and ate it himself.
"Jiang Suizhi!" Le Qing glared at him, clutching the empty wrapper. "You did that on purpose."
"Mn." He smirked, admitting shamelessly. "I did."
"How long has it been since you last had one?" he asked.
"Three months."
She used to never carry much because she knew Jiang Suizhi would bring them for her. Who knew she’d end up going without for three whole months this time?
The thought made her even more aggrieved.
"Three months," Jiang Suizhi murmured, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. He chewed the candy and asked, "When you wanted candy during that time, did you think of anything else?"
Le Qing, who had been about to open the armrest again, paused and glanced up. "Anything else… like what?"
"Something, or…" Jiang Suizhi chuckled softly, "someone."
Who else could it be? Every time she craved candy, she’d wonder when Jiang Suizhi would come.
Somehow, she’d always been certain he’d remain her unwavering support, the one who filled every gap in her sense of security.
In that moment, she finally understood why he’d done this.
She pressed her lips together but didn’t reach for another candy. Instead, she closed the compartment. "You could’ve just asked if I missed you."
"That straightforward?" Jiang Suizhi played along. "Then did you?"
Le Qing answered just as bluntly, "I did."
Meeting his dark eyes, she added slowly, "And as of now, you owe me at least six packs of candy."
Jiang Suizhi’s shoulders slumped slightly. He turned back to the countdown on the traffic light and said flatly, "You’ve kept track, huh. Want me to pay up?"
"Of course you have to," Le Qing said. "With interest."
Jiang Suizhi let out what sounded like a sigh. "Then calculate it. How much interest?"
"I’ll tell you once I’ve figured it out."
Jiang Suizhi’s eyes flickered, and he turned to look at her again.
Le Qing gave up on taking more candy and instead fiddled with the empty wrapper in her hands, folding it absentmindedly.
"There is one way, though," he said.
"What?"
Jiang Suizhi leaned slightly toward her.
Le Qing hadn’t moved back, so the distance between them suddenly narrowed. The scent of milk candy lingered on his breath, making her freeze, unsure how to react.
Her heartbeat, which had been erratic since the moment she met him, grew unmistakably loud again—so intense she was afraid he’d hear it.
Jiang Suizhi's gaze lingered unabashedly on her lips as he chuckled softly, "The way to repay me when you're grown up—didn't you say you’re all grown now?"
Le Qing felt as if she’d been scalded, instinctively licking her lips. "Don’t be a rogue."
Seeing her reaction, the amusement in Jiang Suizhi’s eyes deepened. "Calling me a rogue when I haven’t even done anything yet?"
Le Qing widened her eyes. "What else could you possibly want to do?!"
"Oh, plenty." Jiang Suizhi raised his hand, brushing her hair the same way he always had, except this time his fingers lingered at the back of her ear. "For instance, how to let you taste this candy."
Le Qing’s mind buzzed, the implication behind his words dawning on her as her face flushed crimson.
She tilted her head away, throat tight, and muttered awkwardly, "The light’s green."
Only then did Jiang Suizhi lower his hand. "Seems you really have grown up."
Since she hadn’t been back in a while, Jiang Suizhi didn’t take her straight to his place this time. Instead, he dropped her off at her parents’ home first.
But it was too late, so he didn’t go up with her.
"I’ll have someone leave your luggage at my place," he said.
"Why your place?" Le Qing reached for her bag. "After visiting my sister, I still have work. I probably won’t have time to stay at your place this trip."
Jiang Suizhi replied leisurely, "Not necessarily."
"What?" Le Qing tugged at the door, but it didn’t budge. "Unlock the car door."
Jiang Suizhi unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out from his side. When Le Qing moved to do the same, he opened her door but didn’t step back—instead, he leaned in, one hand resting on the frame.
Le Qing nearly bumped into his chin as she looked up, startling backward into her seat. "Since when do you open doors for me?"
There had never been such formality between them.
"Not for that," Jiang Suizhi said with a smile. "To give you proof that you’ve grown up."
Le Qing couldn’t help laughing. "So ceremonious."
"Mm." Jiang Suizhi nodded. "I’ve waited years for this."
For no reason, Le Qing’s thoughts slowed. She suddenly remembered the first time Jiang Suizhi had mentioned her growing up—back when she was sixteen. Six years ago.
Six years had passed in a blink, but to Jiang Suizhi, it had been a long wait.
She had a premonition.
The early summer night carried a chill, especially in the garage. The warmth from the car clashed with the cold air outside, and she felt the same heat and cold warring within her. Those few seconds of anticipation were unbearable.
Jiang Suizhi’s frame nearly engulfed her entirely. "To put it another way—I’ve loved you for years."
It felt like destiny finally arriving. Le Qing’s heart plummeted from a great height, leaving her breathless, as if she needed to press a hand to her chest to steady the sudden freefall.
She couldn’t describe the feeling—agonizing, yet laced with a secret thrill.
It took her a long moment to find her voice. "Weren’t you supposed to let me rest?"
"Hm?"
Le Qing lifted her head. "If you keep this up, I won’t sleep tonight."
"Good." Jiang Suizhi nodded. "Spend the sleepless hours thinking of me."
"As if." Le Qing pushed at him. "I’m going home. My parents might see you on the security feed."
Having said what he needed to, Jiang Suizhi couldn’t pretend things were the same as before. He had no intention of overstepping now, so he stepped aside.
In just a minute, it was as if his earth-shattering confession had never happened—no ripples, no aftermath.
But after grabbing her bag and stepping out, Le Qing shivered slightly and turned to face him. "Jiang Suizhi."
Jiang Suizhi was still watching her, always ready to respond. "Yes?"
"It wasn’t just the candy I thought about," Le Qing said. "I also wondered when I’d see you again."
For once, Jiang Suizhi was caught off guard.
The woman before him—now undeniably grown, the one he’d loved in every way for years—leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth.
It sent a tremor through him, head to toe.
Le Qing pulled back quickly, grinning like she’d finally gotten her candy. "Proof I’ve grown up."
Jiang Suizhi’s throat moved, his gaze darkening. But the moment he lifted a hand, Le Qing dodged away.
"My parents will see!" She knew he wouldn’t let her off easily. If Jiang Suizhi caught her now, she’d never live it down in front of her family. She scrambled backward. "See you tomorrow!"
She darted off like a rabbit, clearly having planned this escape.
Jiang Suizhi narrowed his eyes but, surprisingly, let her go. He stood there and nodded. "Fine."
Back home, Le Qing pressed a hand to her racing heart. Though they’d been close before, this kind of intimacy was new—and she was surprised Jiang Suizhi hadn’t chased after her.
She checked the security feed, only to see him standing motionless for a long time before finally driving away. Nothing seemed amiss.
But that in itself was suspicious. She started to regret it.
Though she’d meant to rest before meeting her brother and sister, the wedding and her suddenly changed relationship with Jiang Suizhi left her too restless to sleep. So the next day, she boarded a flight south with him.
The entire trip, she kept stealing glances at him, but he seemed calmer than ever—none of his usual roguishness.
Jiang Suizhi, eyes closed, seemed to sense her gaze and smirked. "What are you looking at?"
"Nothing." Le Qing averted her eyes, telling herself she was overthinking it. Watching her brother and sister’s relationship, they hadn’t been glued together either. Maybe this was just how dating worked.
She managed to convince herself.
The small town wasn’t yet a tourist spot, and with it being off-season, there were few visitors. Her brother and sister’s wedding was held under an ancient tree on a mountainside outside town, secluded and quiet.
Jiang Yan had set everything up himself. The fairy lights strewn across the ground were clearly the last stubborn touch from Le Yang.
Everything was DIY—no hired photographer, just multiple cameras set up at different angles to capture every moment for later editing.
There were two sets of outfits: wedding attire for the couple, and simple formal wear for Le Qing and Jiang Suizhi.
The ceremony felt more like a picnic, the four of them chatting casually beneath the tree.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow that gradually faded, the string lights nearby began to flicker to life. It was only then that Jiang Yan and Le Yang stood up, pulling out the rings they had prepared long ago.
Despite traveling together for so long, taking countless photos and videos, they had never exchanged rings until now.
Le Qing sat on the grass, eagerly anticipating a tear-jerking declaration of love, only to wait in vain as the two remained completely silent.
She tilted her head in confusion, wondering if her hearing had failed her.
Then, she caught the sound of Brother Yan’s quiet sobs.
Le Qing: "…"
Jiang Suizhi: "…"
Even Le Yang hadn’t expected him to start crying at this moment. With a soft laugh, she slid the ring onto Jiang Yan’s finger. "No need for words—just cry instead."
"I haven’t had many shining moments in my life," Jiang Yan murmured as he slipped the ring onto her finger, clasping her hand tightly. "I’ve spent them all on you."
"Le Yang." He knew restraint better than anyone, but he also understood their personalities—neither of them was the type for overly sentimental declarations. He might have wanted to say more, but halfway through, Le Yang would probably have covered his mouth in playful annoyance.
Instead, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I’ll love you forever."
"Mm." Le Yang smiled. "I believe you."
Le Qing, still sitting dumbfounded on the ground, couldn’t help but whisper to the person beside her, "That’s it?"
Jiang Suizhi covered her eyes. "What comes next is the adult channel."
He paused. "Did you want more words?"
"Not really," Le Qing admitted, taking a sip from her glass. "But I’d already prepared myself for where to start crying. I didn’t expect Brother Yan to beat me to it."
In dramas, sisters always wept uncontrollably at weddings.
But here, it didn’t seem necessary at all.
"Cry over what?" Le Yang flicked her sister’s forehead. "Life will stay the same as always."
The four of them had practically grown up together in the same household, and nothing would change that.
Le Qing huffed softly. "Then why even invite us?"
"Because you’re the most important person to me," Le Yang said.
The unexpected words hit Le Qing like a wave, and the tears she thought she’d held back suddenly welled up.
In that moment, she understood—weddings weren’t about crying for love or separation, but about witnessing the happiness of someone irreplaceable and feeling so full of joy that tears came unbidden.
Le Yang raised her glass.
"We’ll be like the sunrise and sunset," she said. "After every romantic ending, we’ll rise again with hope, day after day, year after year."
Their glasses clinked in the quiet evening, the sound lingering like an unbroken promise.
Le Qing rarely drank much, but tonight, the pleasant haze of alcohol left her utterly content.
Eventually, she leaned against Jiang Suizhi’s shoulder, gazing up at the starry sky in a daze. "Are those stars or Brother Yan’s string lights?"
"Stars," Jiang Suizhi replied, his voice steady despite the faint scent of alcohol on him. His tolerance was high from years of social engagements, and his mind remained clear. "His lights aren’t this pretty."
Clear-headed as he was, the warmth of alcohol still stirred something restless in him. He glanced down at the woman resting against him, his gaze darkening as it traced every inch of her.
His fingers had long since entwined with hers, idly playing with her slender digits, rubbing the bare tips in slow, deliberate circles.
Le Qing, oblivious or not, nodded absently. "Where’s my sister?"
Jiang Suizhi answered flatly, "On the adult channel."
Not literally, of course—there was still a fireworks show to come. The other two had slipped away to the opposite side of the massive tree after their most important moment. From where they sat, the trunk was so wide they couldn’t see each other at all.
"Adult channel?" Le Qing frowned. "I’m an adult too. Why can’t I go?"
Jiang Suizhi chuckled, his eyes deepening with something unreadable—something she couldn’t see. "You want to?"
"I’m grown," Le Yang insisted. "I proved it to you."
Jiang Suizhi nodded. "Mm. I saw."
Alcohol always made her bolder, more honest. "Then why haven’t you reacted at all?"
This time, Jiang Suizhi didn’t pretend. "I have."
"I didn’t see it," Le Qing retorted. "You didn’t even look at me on the plane."
"Couldn’t."
"Why?"
"I’d do something bad."
Le Qing shifted against his shoulder, genuinely trying to recall what "bad things" Jiang Suizhi could possibly do.
Had he ever done anything bad?
The only thing that came to mind was owing her a lifetime’s worth of candy and deliberately making her miss him for three months.
Before she could untangle her thoughts, Jiang Suizhi spoke again. "But now I can."
"Wha—"
Her question was cut short as warm fingers tilted her chin up. Under the glow of the lights, Jiang Suizhi’s eyes were breathtakingly beautiful—and full of hunger.
The hand that had been toying with hers now held her face, forcing her to meet his gaze.
Then, all the lights around them suddenly went out.
A sharp whistle pierced the air as fireworks shot upward, exploding into brilliant blossoms across the sky. At the same moment, Jiang Suizhi’s lips—cool yet impossibly soft—covered hers.
Her heart erupted like the fireworks above, pounding so hard she could barely hear anything else.
But the display she loved so much was unfolding overhead, and all she could do was stare, dazed, at the man so close she could count his lashes.
Jiang Suizhi was showing her, in no uncertain terms, what the real adult channel was.
The roar of the fireworks drowned out every sound, masking the intensity of his kisses. Every swallow from her only spurred him on, his grip tightening, his movements growing deeper. Tipsy and weak, Le Qing could only melt into his arms, letting him take whatever he wanted.
"Qingqing," he murmured between kisses, his voice rough against her ear. "We’ll have our days and years."
Later, when townsfolk spoke of that night’s unprecedented fireworks display, some claimed that beneath the dazzling bursts of light, they could make out two pairs of figures sitting on either side of the great tree on the hill.
Their silhouettes were intertwined, inseparable.
And no one knew that in the thunderous echoes of the fireworks, as embers drifted down like falling stars,
the people in the story were kissing the ones they loved.
