Chapter 92

*Later and later — A Day-to-Day Line of a Family of Three.*
In the blink of an eye, five years had passed. Qin Sang had successfully transformed, moving from in front of the camera to behind it. Several films she supervised as producer had all achieved good results, and the movie she had invested in earlier, *Heavy Fog, Heavy Fog*, had even been successfully selected for the Cannes Film Festival’s main competition, with a chance to compete for the Palme d’Or.
“So? Producer Qin—now everyone calls you a golden touch. Every investment hits. Any lead on your next one?”
“Not yet, for now.”
Recently she didn’t have any projects she felt particularly bullish on. But she had taken a liking to a small youth-themed web drama. Coincidentally, she knew the screenwriter too. It was the screenwriter’s original script, and Qin Sang had read it carefully. If it could be shot well, even if it didn’t get popular, it wouldn’t lose money.
As for Sister Wen, she had already retired long ago.
After Qin Sang chose semi-retirement, Sister Wen no longer had the energy to train new people. Life in the entertainment industry was too busy for her; it squeezed out all her time and made her lose her own living space. So after Qin Sang moved behind the scenes, Sister Wen also took the opportunity to step out of the circle, resigning from her manager position. She only occasionally followed Qin Sang to throw in a little money. Qin Sang’s eye was accurate; basically every work she supervised could make its money back.
Now Sister Wen wasn’t short of money; for the rest of her life she could live without worry. So she opened a rescue center for stray cats and dogs, which could be seen as inheriting her late husband’s last wish.
She had never forgotten her husband. She had had that wedding ring made into a necklace and wore it with her at all times, never taking it off for even a moment. These years, it wasn’t as if no one had tried to introduce her to someone. Her family, her parents-in-law, all persuaded her to let go of the past and start over.
Only Qin Sang didn’t. She said, “It’s not like only starting a new relationship counts as starting over. Sister Wen, you’re doing pretty well like this.”
How could accepting someone new be so easy?
What’s more, Sister Wen and her husband had been together day in and day out for so many years. All those little moments had piled up like a mountain—how could they be changed in a short time?
New people couldn’t replace the place of the old one.
Sister Wen smiled too. “That’s true. I have to take care of so many cats and dogs every day. I don’t have the mind to go find a man again. And you know, after being steeped in our circle for so long, after seeing so much, men are just like that. You’re the lucky one—you knew to jump out of that circle and found the person who suits you best.”
Qin Sang curved her lips into a light, shallow smile.
After Xie Yuncheng officially began teaching at Qingda, his work hours did become a lot more flexible. But sometimes he still got so busy his feet barely touched the ground, and sometimes they wouldn’t see him for ten days or half a month.
This time Xie Yuncheng had gone on a business trip. It was almost half a month already. Because the location was remote, there was no signal. Even the occasional video calls were choppy; the screen lagged terribly.
“Mommy, mommy!”
The little boy who popped out from behind patted over and threw himself into her arms, clinging to her legs and looking up at her. “Mommy, you came to pick me up!”
Seeing her son, Qin Sang’s brows and eyes turned even gentler. “Tuan-tuan, did you cause trouble for your godmother today?”
“No! Tuan-tuan was very good.”
“Mommy, can An-an come home with us today?”
Qin Sang shook her head. “Tuan-tuan, An-an is still sick and hasn’t recovered yet. It has to stay here to recuperate for a while. When An-an gets better, we’ll come together to pick it up, okay?”
Tuan-tuan drooped his head, listless. “Okay.”
“Then, Tuan-tuan, say goodbye to Godmother.”
Tuan-tuan twisted his little head to look at Sister Wen. When he smiled, the curve of his eyes looked like it had been carved from the same mold as Qin Sang’s. He said sweetly, “Bye-bye, Godmother.”
Sister Wen pretended to look pitiful and asked, “Is Tuan-tuan not planning to stay with Godmother today?”
Tuan-tuan shook his head. “Mommy is back. I want to stay with Mommy.”
“Godmother is sad. What if Godmother also really wants Tuan-tuan to stay—what should I do?”
Tuan-tuan struggled for a moment. He held her hand and said, “Godmother, don’t be sad. Tuan-tuan has to take care of Mommy, but in Tuan-tuan’s heart, I still think about Godmother a lot. Godmother, come home with Tuan-tuan.”
“Oh my,” Sister Wen’s heart melted. She couldn’t help hugging him and kissing him. “Our Tuan-tuan is so good. So young and already knows how to make girls happy—what will you do when you grow up?”
Sister Wen wasn’t exaggerating at all. When Tuan-tuan was only two, he had already shown signs of becoming a future heartbreaker. At such a young age, he already knew how to hold a girl’s hand and bring her home.
When the aunt took him to play nearby, he accidentally brought back a very pretty little girl, giving them a fright.
Thankfully, the girl lived nearby. When her parents came looking for her, Sister Wen let out a cold sweat.
She sternly told Tuan-tuan, “You can’t do that. You can’t just bring a girl back casually.”
“But we’re friends.” Tuan-tuan asked. “Xiao Yu-mao and I are the best friends. Not even that is okay?”
Xiao Yu-mao was the little girl’s nickname. Her real name was Xiao Siyu. Maybe the kids found it easy to say; little by little, it turned from Xiao Siyu into Xiao Yu-mao.
“Of course it’s not okay. Before you brought Xiao Yu-mao away, did you tell Xiao Yu-mao’s mom and dad?”
Tuan-tuan shook his head. “I didn’t see her mom and dad. Xiao Yu-mao’s skirt got dirty in the park by Little Fat and she kept crying and crying. I said Mommy has lots of pretty little skirts and can give her one. Then Xiao Yu-mao stopped crying and agreed to come back with me.”
Qin Sang held her forehead.
At two years old, Tuan-tuan was already showing a high-level kidnapper’s skill set. This script—he had learned it without a teacher. Sweet-talking, luring, coaxing, and tricking, he had duped someone else’s little girl home.
“Tuan-tuan, being willing to help friends is a good thing. But Xiao Yu-mao also has her own mom and dad. If she suddenly disappeared, her mom and dad would be very anxious and very sad—just like if Tuan-tuan suddenly couldn’t find Mommy and Daddy, you’d be scared and very sad too.”
So that was how it was. If he lost Mommy and Daddy, he would definitely be very sad.
Only then did Tuan-tuan realize his mistake. With soft little arms, he hugged Qin Sang and coquettishly apologized. “Sorry, Mommy. I won’t do it next time.”
“It’s okay. If you know your mistake and fix it, Tuan-tuan is still the most well-behaved little kid in Little Flower Class.”
“Then…” Tuan-tuan wrapped his arms around her neck and asked innocently in a milky voice, “If Xiao Yu-mao’s mom and dad agree too, then next time, can I bring Xiao Yu-mao home to play again?”
“Of course. Tuan-tuan can invite friends home to play, but you must tell other people’s mom and dad in advance. You can’t decide on your own, okay?”
Tuan-tuan nodded hard. “Got it, Mommy.”
“Mommy, then can I give Xiao Yu-mao a skirt?”
Qin Sang had heard the name Xiao Yu-mao quite a lot too. Ever since Tuan-tuan started kindergarten, she often heard about Xiao Yu-mao from his mouth.
Qin Sang got a bit mischievous, pretending not to know. “Why does Tuan-tuan want to give Xiao Yu-mao a skirt?”
“Um…” Tuan-tuan thought for a long time. “Xiao Yu-mao looks good in skirts.”
Qin Sang asked again, “Then does Tuan-tuan like Xiao Yu-mao?”
Children’s feelings don’t hide, and are the purest and most simple.
Tuan-tuan nodded very seriously. “I like her. Xiao Yu-mao is the person Tuan-tuan likes the most.”
“Then why does Tuan-tuan like Xiao Yu-mao?”
“Because Xiao Yu-mao is pretty. She’s the prettiest in our Little Flower Class—prettier than Teacher Chen.”
Qin Sang teased him. “Then what if in the future there’s someone prettier than Xiao Yu-mao? Would you stop liking Xiao Yu-mao?”
Tuan-tuan thought seriously for a moment, then shook his head. “No. Xiao Yu-mao will always be Tuan-tuan’s good friend. Um… if someone prettier appears, there will also be other Tuan-tuans to keep her company. But Xiao Yu-mao only has one Tuan-tuan. Tuan-tuan wants to be good friends with Xiao Yu-mao for a whole lifetime.”
Kids’ thinking was sometimes interesting. Maybe their speech was jumbled, but if you listened carefully, you could still understand what they wanted to say.
Qin Sang joked, “A whole lifetime is very long, Tuan-tuan. You’re swearing so confidently now. What if in the future you can’t do it—won’t that be embarrassing?”
“No way! Tuan-tuan is a man!” he declared. “A promise is a promise—four horses can’t chase it back.”
Qin Sang couldn’t help laughing. “Then if Tuan-tuan is willing to try sleeping by yourself tonight, Mommy guarantees not only will four horses not be able to chase it back—eight horses won’t be able to catch it either. Okay?”
Tuan-tuan instantly became dejected. He clung to Qin Sang’s neck, reluctant to let go, expertly acting cute and coquettish. “Mommy, I don’t want to sleep by myself. Sleeping alone is scary. I want to sleep with Mommy. Mommy, can you tell me a story?”
Qin Sang sighed. “Sigh. I don’t know which little kid just said he’s a little man. Now it seems some little kid isn’t a little man at all—he’s a scaredy-cat.”
Tuan-tuan made a miserable face. “Mommy, Tuan-tuan isn’t a scaredy-cat. Hurry and say Tuan-tuan isn’t a scaredy-cat.”
When he acted spoiled, he had even more of it than Xie Yuncheng.
When Tuan-tuan was just born, because he was overweight, she had spent a lot of effort giving birth. When he was born, his skin was wrinkly, his features hadn’t opened up, and she wanted to cry after one look, thinking her son was too ugly.
Wen Shuyu even laughed at her. “What kind of mom are you? You give birth and then you dislike the baby for being ugly, and you even cry. Newborns are all like this. Wait a while for the redness to fade and he’ll look good.”
Perhaps sensing his own mother’s dislike, Tuan-tuan really did fight hard. In about a month, the wrinkled skin had completely turned fair, and his eyes could open fully. His black pupils rolled around. He didn’t cry or make trouble; he only stared at them curiously.
Everyone who came to visit said Tuan-tuan looked a lot like her—especially those eyes, exactly like hers.
Wen Shuyu also said, “When you were little, you were just like Tuan-tuan. When you were born, you were wrinkly too, like a little old lady. You were also very well-behaved—you slept every day. Even when you woke up, you barely cried.”
Fairly speaking, Tuan-tuan really hadn’t made her worry much. During pregnancy, she also didn’t have any bad pregnancy reactions. Instead, Xie Yuncheng’s reactions were even more exaggerated than hers.
Later they went to the hospital and learned that Xie Yuncheng’s situation was called sympathetic pregnancy syndrome. It was likely because his nerves were stretched too tight: anxiety about a newborn about to arrive, excessive tension about the pregnant mother, leading to a slight cognitive bias psychologically, and then physiologically he would also have similar accompanying reactions.
But Qin Sang’s appetite had been excellent. She could eat a lot every day. Later, to control her weight and also to control the baby’s size, she had to forcibly suppress that overly vigorous, swelling appetite.
Throughout the pregnancy, she never felt particularly uncomfortable. She even gained quite a bit in late pregnancy, and because of that, she suffered a lot during delivery.
Back then her labor with Tuan-tuan started suddenly, still half a month from the due date. Fortunately, they had already moved into a postpartum care center early. The environment there was very good—quiet, backed by hills and water—very suitable for a newborn and a postpartum mother to recuperate.
After learning she was pregnant, the Xie family were even more nervous than she was. They found lots of information about postpartum care centers and let her choose. They even wanted her to go overseas to recuperate. She felt it was too exaggerated, so she politely declined their good intentions.
The center they chose in the end was also a place many insiders would choose. Sister Wen helped her check it.
Sister Wen said, “I asked around. Actress X and celebrity XXX—recently very popular, that little star—after marriage, they gave birth and recuperated at this postpartum care center. Their privacy protection is very high, so you don’t have to worry about paparazzi sneaking into the hospital. The postpartum recovery arrangements are also very reasonable. I think you can consider it.”
Qin Sang made a decision on the spot and booked that center. At the time, she was afraid that if she didn’t decide soon, the Xie family would really airlift her—bed and all—out of the country.
She didn’t know whether the Xie family’s style had always been this exaggerated; after all, it didn’t quite match the way she imagined a “red family background” would handle things.
At the time, Xie Yuncheng only smiled. “Sang-sang, Grandpa has already retired. Now the Xie family is just an ordinary family. They want to be a little better to their family members. Even if outsiders know, there’s nothing they can say.”
“Of course,” Xie Yuncheng said very seriously, “the choice is yours. They’re only providing you with an extra option.”
The Xie family really did respect her. After marriage, she still chose to focus on her career, and the Xie family never urged her to have a child.
At that time, she thought they didn’t urge her because they were reasonable and open-minded. Only later did she learn that for things to be like this, Xie Yuncheng had mediated a lot in the middle too.
Although the Xie family rarely came to urge her, occasionally they would still remind Xie Yuncheng. After all, they were not young. If they truly planned to have a child, they had to put the matter of preparing for pregnancy on the schedule and couldn’t delay any longer.
Getting pregnant too late would be a burden for her. Giving birth damaged the body; when you’re young, it’s easier to recover. When you’re older, if your vitality is greatly harmed, it’s hard to build it back.
But Xie Yuncheng said, “I don’t plan to have a child. Sang-sang and I’s current lifestyle isn’t suitable for an extra little life. And I can’t guarantee I can be a qualified father.”
Later she asked him whether what he said then was true, whether he really didn’t want a child. He was silent for a long time before answering, “Yes. I really never thought about having a child. Sang-sang, do you know how high the risk of giving birth is? The harm pregnancy and childbirth do to the mother’s body is irreversible. Right now you’re very good—you have energy and time to do what you like. But once you’re pregnant, everything you have now will come to a stop.”
She had thought he just liked the two-person world and that kind of life made him feel relaxed, but in fact what he considered was far more than she had thought.
Qin Sang wasn’t an extreme no-marriage no-children person. She didn’t urgently want to give birth, and of course she wasn’t against a new life arriving either. She had simply always thought Xie Yuncheng didn’t want it, so she rarely brought it up herself.
Every protective measure they took, he was even more thorough than she imagined. Basically he would not stay inside, and he absolutely would not have sex with her during her ovulation period.
Later, what truly made her have the thought of wanting a child was when, three years into their marriage, Xiaoyan’s child was born.
When she and Xie Yuncheng went to visit, she held that fragile little life in her arms. The child’s eyes were like black grapes, unbelievably pretty. The baby stared at her and then giggled.
Probably at that moment, the softest place in her heart was struck. She suddenly had an absurd yet bold thought.
Maybe having a child wouldn’t be bad.
After she returned, she took the protective measures away. That night, when he habitually reached for them, she stopped him. “We… let’s have a baby.”
Xie Yuncheng was surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Qin Sang nodded. “Although I’m not sure I can be a qualified mother, and I’m not sure whether I’ll regret this decision in the future, at least right now, I really want one.”
She touched the man’s clear brows and eyes. “Let’s try together. Maybe we’ll become pretty good parents.”
“Okay.”
To make her wish come true, he was harsher and fiercer than usual. At the most critical moment, he said in a low, hoarse voice, “You can still regret it now.”
He still had time to pull back, but Qin Sang’s answer was silently tightening her arms around him.
That night was the only time he fully released without any protective measures.
Later, little Tuan-tuan came to this world.
On the day she found out she was pregnant, Xie Yuncheng’s hands were cold, trembling slightly, as if he couldn’t control it.
Qin Sang held his hand and smiled at him. “We can definitely do it. Our child will at least live happier than we did.”
…
In this marriage, it seemed Xie Yuncheng had even less of a sense of security than she did. Probably influenced by his parents, he always did everything he could to give her the best, and wanted to give the child something even better.
But actually, he had already done very well.
In this marriage, she was the one who benefited. She held the household financial power tightly. Xie Yuncheng had no private assets of his own; even the assets he purchased before marriage were unconditionally gifted to her. His salary card, bonuses, even all the scholarships from university through the direct PhD period, and the money he earned from past investments—all of it was handed over to her.
He even volunteered to notarize it and signed a prenuptial agreement in advance: after marriage, the property would be kept by her and unconditionally gifted to the woman; and any monetary benefits generated by the woman, whether before or after marriage, would all belong to the woman. Even if their feelings broke down in the future and they divorced, the woman’s assets would not be divided as marital community property.
Back then Qin Sang even joked, “You give me everything—aren’t you afraid I’ll run away with the money later and ditch you?”
But Xie Yuncheng’s answer was calm. “Those things belong to you anyway. You have the right to decide how to dispose of them.”
…
She thought choosing to get married was the most correct decision she had made in her life.
Qin Sang had always had painful periods. After marriage, she didn’t know where he learned so many weird methods. He moxibusted her, massaged her, and whenever he had time, he urged her to soak her feet and do “health maintenance.”
He even specifically took her to see an old Chinese medicine doctor, making her drink traditional medicine for half a month and get acupuncture a few times.
During that time, no matter who came to see her, when they saw her, she always had a thermos cup in her hand. At home, there was a pile of health-maintenance equipment.
When Liu Chengcheng came to their home as a guest, she was shocked. “Your home is… are you switching careers to open a health clinic?”
Qin Sang denied it. “Not mine.”
“Huh? It’s all God Xie’s?”
Liu Chengcheng plopped down on the sofa, then got poked by something. She reached under and felt a massager.
She was shocked. “I thought at most God Xie would become a full-time husband after marriage. I didn’t expect he’d drift this far off course—he’s actually developing into a health-maintenance boss. I heard the class monitor say that some time ago, they saw God Xie at the gym. Looks like God Xie isn’t just diligent about working out—he’s going for internal and external cultivation too.”
Qin Sang was a bit surprised. After marriage, she was even busier than Xie Yuncheng. After Xie Yuncheng adjusted his work schedule, he freed up a lot of time and was no longer as intense as before.
As for her, although she had moved behind the scenes to be a producer, as a producer she still had to be on set. She often traveled far for business trips, so she didn’t know why Xie Yuncheng had suddenly started working out and doing health maintenance.
Liu Chengcheng rubbed her chin and guessed, “Could it be because your industry has too many young boys, and he’s afraid he’ll get compared down?”
“Impossible,” Qin Sang felt she was talking nonsense. “You’ve known him for more than a day. Do you think he looks like someone with that little confidence?”
It had always been others chasing him. Afraid? She didn’t think he would care about such trivial matters, let alone feel anxious over them. It was absurd.
Liu Chengcheng smiled mysteriously. “That’s not necessarily true. Don’t they say thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river? God Xie is thirty-two this year. Sure, he doesn’t look old, but seeing young boys, he’ll definitely feel a sense of crisis.”
Sense of crisis?
The biggest difference after moving from in front of the camera to behind it was that she indeed came into contact with more young male actors. Once a project was established, as producer she had to check every layer, and at auditions, she would also sit on site. There were always some young boys who didn’t want to walk the right path and put crooked ideas on her.
But she didn’t take what Liu Chengcheng said to heart. She had just come back and had to go on another business trip; she still needed to prepare to discuss cooperation.
As one of the investors, even Qin Sang, as producer, couldn’t avoid wine-bureau socializing. This wine bureau was for the web drama that was about to start shooting. Most of the people present were the main creative members of the crew and the other investors.
Qin Sang usually didn’t touch alcohol. The best part about being the producing side was that she now had absolute say. But that day her head hurt badly. Probably she had caught a chill the night before and was a bit sick.
She spoke little and barely ate. When she leaned back in her chair to rest quietly, a cup of warm boiled water suddenly appeared in front of her. “Senior, drink some warm water. You’ll feel better.”
Following that hand upward, the boy looked very young, about twenty or so. He was also a student who graduated from the Central Academy of Drama. Qin Sang had seen his résumé when he came to audition.
Actors from the Central Academy of Drama had solid fundamentals. On top of that, his image fit the role, so after discussion they kept him and let him play the male second lead in the drama.
Qin Sang sighed. She wasn’t stupid. Past thirty, with experience, what her eyes saw was more than his entire life experience.
She picked up the thermos cup she carried with her. The wedding ring on her right hand was especially conspicuous. She refused in a light tone. “No need. I brought my own water.”
In the thermos cup were goji berries—health maintenance, the unavoidable path of middle-aged people.
This pink thermos cup was something their family of three picked together when they went to Disneyland on Tuan-tuan’s second birthday, walking around the park.
Tuan-tuan had put a StellaLou headband on her head. When choosing cups, Tuan-tuan picked a Little Bear cup, and Xie Yuncheng helped her pick a pink StellaLou one.
Sigh.
She sighed secretly.
Who said only men run into temptation? Didn’t she have to deal with it too?
She didn’t know why, but once she hit thirty-two, the rotten peach blossoms on her tree started blooming one after another.
Young people were young people—newborn calves not afraid of tigers. They didn’t care about worldly eyes, and morality couldn’t restrain their behavior.
After filming officially started, Qin Sang occasionally stayed with the crew to watch progress. The time she spent on set was far more than the time she spent at home.
She had intended to warn him a bit, but the other party seemed even bolder, with no intention of restraining himself.
Coincidentally, Zhou Yihong’s new movie also started shooting. The two crews were close, so occasionally he would come over and take a look.
He didn’t know until he looked—and then he was shocked.
Seeing the young boy following right beside Qin Sang, showing great attentiveness, practically about to wag his tail, Zhou Yihong asked someone in her crew, “Hey, who’s that?”
“Oh, our male second lead. He seems to be Junior Qin’s school junior, right?”
This was serious.
Since ancient times, “same school” meant lots of messy feelings.
Wasn’t it the same for Xie Yuncheng and Qin Sang—same class, back and forth, and they ended up together like that?
Zhou Yihong was so anxious he nearly jumped. After entering this industry, he realized that beneath the glossy facade, it was actually filthy, hiding many things that couldn’t see the light. There were plenty of male actors who used any means to climb up.
There were even male actors who, for a role, came knocking on his hotel room door in the middle of the night. It scared him so badly the alcohol sobered up and he cursed loudly inside.
Staying in a dye vat yet still keeping his integrity—wasn’t it hard for him?
It had to be him.
Xie Yuncheng should be secretly happy to have a senior like him.
Zhou Yihong hurriedly contacted him. Thinking that he might be on assignment and unable to answer the phone, he simply sent a WeChat message:
【If you don’t come back, your wife will run off with someone.】
…
On the day the crew wrapped, everyone was cheering. Almost the whole crew were young people, and the male and female actors were basically all newcomers. Newcomers were not so restrained; young people who had just graduated hadn’t yet experienced reality’s cruelty.
When taking the wrap-up photo, everyone smiled very happily. Male and female actors in school uniforms and crew staff formed a huge group, standing on the big track field to take the final commemorative photo.
Every actor received flowers from the crew, including the director. Qin Sang had arranged this, but what surprised her was that she also received a bouquet of sunflowers.
She hadn’t arranged that.
At the moment she held the flowers, the crew suddenly began clapping, and even started singing “Happy Birthday.” “Happy birthday to you—”
Qin Sang was a little dazed. But quickly, everyone automatically moved aside. After the bustling crowd parted, the person holding the cake appeared—just like when they first met long ago, as if the years had never eroded even half of his brilliance.
Tuan-tuan, holding a crown, hopped forward. “Mommy, lower your head.”
Qin Sang crouched down and let Tuan-tuan put the crown on her head. When she stood back up, that person had just walked to right in front of her.
“Happy birthday, Mrs. Xie.”
…
Later Qin Sang asked Xie Yuncheng why he had come. He was clearly on assignment hundreds of kilometers away, and had clearly said he would still have to wait half a month to return. Why had he come back early? Was it only to celebrate her birthday?
Xie Yuncheng’s gaze swept past the figure behind her that flashed by. “Not entirely.”
It was true he was on assignment. This return trip was also a schedule he had long confirmed. When she got busy, she didn’t care about anything; she probably wouldn’t remember her birthday was coming either.
But before he returned, by coincidence, he received Zhou Yihong’s message.
He didn’t hide it. Qin Sang was curious. “Then were you worried I’d cheat?”
“No.”
“No?”
Xie Yuncheng’s eyes had no deepened emotion; instead they were clear as a mirror. His wife was still beautiful. The years had not reduced her beauty by even half. Instead, as the years passed, the bud of a flower gradually revealed its original beauty.
“Sang-sang, I’m not worried you’ll cheat. I know what kind of person you are.”
“Then…”
Why had he hurried back, and even made such a big scene? Though it was to give her a surprise, she didn’t believe there was no selfishness of declaring ownership mixed in.
“Sang-sang, I’m thirty-two this year. I’m no longer young. My advantages have also become more limited. There will always be more outstanding people who appear in front of you. You are still beautiful, still dazzling. I can’t stop them from being attracted to you.”
“At least right now, I still have the identity to stand by your side openly.”
…
Qin Sang was stunned for a long time.
At first, when she heard Liu Chengcheng’s guess, she felt it was absurd and untrustworthy.
But at this moment, she felt it was unbelievable.
He had always been so honest. “Sang-sang, I get jealous. Any opposite sex who approaches you with bad intentions will make me feel a sense of crisis.”
Qin Sang looked at him for a long time. She couldn’t help stepping forward and kissing him. “Classmate Xie, you’re thirty-two, yes—but I’m also thirty-two. If you’re no longer young, then I’ll also age and my looks will also fade. By then, we’ll hold hands and grow old together. Isn’t that even better?”
…
“Mommy, Daddy!”
Tuan-tuan called them under the ginkgo tree.
In late autumn, ginkgo leaves covered the ground. Under the sunlight, it looked like a brilliant golden sea. Tuan-tuan ran over, held their hands, and pulled them forward.
In the distance, the class bell rang softly. Students in school uniforms hurried past, running by their side.
This was some day fifteen years later. It seemed ordinary. The afternoon sun was warm and gentle. Migratory birds in the distance also crossed thousands of mountains and rivers from the far north, slowly returning to their nests, coming south to spend the winter and avoid the cold.
She thought: this was the fifth year they had spent together, and the fifth birthday he had spent with her. In the future, they would spend more sets of five years together.
Who knew how far the future was?
The future might be right in front of their eyes, right beneath their feet.
It might be right at this moment, right by her side.
…
“A gentle breeze rises softly. The returning migratory birds bring a belated love letter.”
“Every page says: I like you so much.”