Chapter 55: Lingering And Longing

Summer arrived, bringing with it the vacation of their third year. With graduation around the corner, classmates with long-term plans began to get busy.

Ji Zhen Tang also needed to put some work into her brand’s social media account. This summer, instead of getting a job, she organized a team, scouted locations, and did several photoshoots, officially setting her future plans into motion.

She showcased her designs, receiving praise for their modern-thinking style.

Art has no definitive answers, but within the school environment, it faced a host of assessments.

In the past, Ji Zhen Tang struggled with her grades; hovering in the mid-range, it was difficult to improve. She felt anxiety and frustration over these issues, to the point it took a toll on her health.

It was then, in the school museum, that she ran into Zhong Yu Bai.

A painting she’d submitted ages ago hung in an inconspicuous corner. He caught a glimpse of her little fish and landscape, along with the small artist’s signature she’d used.

Recalling it always gave her strength—a moment she found empowering.

Ji Zhen Tang designed a red koi fish brooch as a keepsake for Zhong Yu Bai.

He rarely showed passion for material things, but for the two fish he kept at home, it was probably the one unwavering affection in his otherwise predictable life.

When she received the brooch, she was unusually happy, holding it in her palm and looking at it over and over. When finals week ended and the dorm emptied, Ji Zhen Tang sat at her desk, carefully boxed up the brooch, and right after, got a call from her mother.

Qin Meilan explained that she’d been busy lately and hadn’t been able to check in, then asked warmly about her recent life. Ji Zhen Tang replied positively, saying her dad was doing well too, laughing lightly and avoiding any mention of troubling issues with Ji Huan.

Qin Meilan had continued working at the coffee factory in Xingzhou over the years, working her way up from a line worker to become a department manager. She had endured hardships due to a lack of education, but now she finally got her chance to succeed.

Sometimes, she asked Ji Zhen Tang if she needed money. For years, her mother hadn’t mentioned money in front of her, and Ji Zhen Tang could tell it was because they were more comfortable now.

But Ji Zhen Tang shook her head, saying she didn’t need anything.

Qin Meilan said, “You’ll be graduating soon, right? Once you start working, you’ll be able to support yourself and won’t need to rely on your dad’s help.”

“…”

Listening to her mother’s words, Ji Zhen Tang’s emotions grew complicated as she looked at the sapphire on her mother’s hand. She was at a loss for words and fell silent for a long time.

Her mother asked, “Have you thought about work? If job prospects in China aren’t great, consider coming back to Singapore. I know some jewelry company managers here, and the jewelry market in Singapore is still promising.”

Ji Zhen Tang murmured, “Singapore…? Really?”

Qin Meilan replied, “Yes, even a small store in Chinatown could earn a living. There are many wealthy people in developed country, and the market is good.”

Ji Zhen Tang hesitated, her mind racing. “But I never thought about going abroad. I’m working on my own design brand right now.”

Qin Meilan responded with an understanding “Oh,” then said, “It’s nothing, just a suggestion. Singapore’s government is also encouraging Chinese students to stay here. It’s a natural fit, and wouldn’t it be nice to be closer to your mom?”

Ji Zhen Tang listened, biting her lip until it turned white. She wanted to say something but couldn’t bring herself to speak.

“Do you resent me for sending you away back then?” her mother asked.

“No,” she replied. “I don’t resent you, I just…”

It’s just that you adults are so strange. You send me away when you don’t want me, then call me back when you miss me. Now, you offer up all this eager affection, hoping to fill the emptiness in my growth.

But it’s too late; the broken mirror, even if reassembled, is still filled with cracks.

Qin Meilan’s voice was apologetic and filled with regret: “I’m sorry, darling. Times were hard before; there was no other way. Now that things are a little better—”

Ji Zhen Tang interrupted her mother, “Mom, I need to tell you something.”

“Hmm, go ahead.”

She hadn’t initially planned on bringing it up, but since they were on the topic, Ji Zhen Tang hesitantly said, “I…”

After taking a moment to organize her words, she finally spoke, “A few days ago, I saw the young master.”

Qin Meilan was puzzled, “Which young master?”

Ji Zhen Tang replied, “The young master from the Chen family, back when I was a child.”

Qin Meilan was visibly startled and, with a slightly higher-pitched voice, asked, “You saw him? He’s in China now?”

Holding the phone tightly, Ji Zhen Tang grew tense as well, her palms starting to sweat. “Yes, we actually live quite close. His surname isn’t Chen anymore; it’s Zhong.”

“Did you speak to him? Did he recognize you?”

She replied, “No.”

After a brief silence, Qin Meilan seemed to exhale in relief, her tone softening. She said, “That’s good. Keep your distance from him.”

Her mother seemed relieved.

But Ji Zhen Tang was taken aback, feeling as if something was caught in her throat. “Why? We were so close when we were kids, and Madam was always so kind to me. Even now, I still—”

Before she could finish, Qin Meilan cut her off, “Don’t stir up trouble. Just live a simple, peaceful life. For people we shouldn’t be involved with, it’s wiser to stay away.”

Ji Zhen Tang was speechless.

“There are things you may not remember; you were too young at the time.”

“I remember,” she said. “I remember the ship. I remember someone firing a gun. And I remember that Madam didn’t come back with us.”

Even though she was very young, the events had left such a deep impression that she remembered everything.

Qin Meilan paused. “If you remember, then there’s no need to ask me why.”

“…”

After hanging up, Ji Zhen Tang’s mind was a tangled mess.

Her mother’s words echoed: “Stay away from him.”

She didn’t need affirmation or blessings from her parents, yet she couldn’t help feeling saddened by their discouragement. Why was it that, one after another, they all seemed so against this?

She even thought that if she told her the truth, Qin Meilan might rush to China overnight to break them up.

To distract herself, she continued watching *Burning*, which she hadn’t finished that day.

Zhong Yu Bai was patient and gentlemanly enough, always working hard to help her shed some of her class-based shackles. Though he couldn’t change society’s prejudices, at least he could broaden her understanding of the inherent disparity between rich and poor.

He tried very hard, but he couldn’t stop her from gravitating toward this kind of work.

That day, Zhong Yu Bai watched with her for a while. Finding the opening scene too dull, he couldn’t help but ask, “Is this movie any good?”

She half-joked, muttering, “You noble types all read Lu Xun; we lowbrow types, though—we love watching gold diggers. We see them in all their vibrant splendor, then watch as they inevitably meet a bad end.”

He stopped watching the movie and turned to look at her. The phrase *inevitably meet a bad end* seemed to carry a certain implication.

Ji Zhen Tang said, “I enjoy watching tragic stories, things that are doomed to ruin yet somehow still hold a tantalizing allure. The clash between desire and reason is fascinating. Besides, a fleeting romance is kind of nice, too.”

She murmured, as if explaining herself—or perhaps, trying to reassure herself.

Six months ago, saying something like this would have reflected a sense of acceptance. Now, her words held an unmistakable undertone of regret.

Zhong Yu Bai reached out to turn off the movie.

Ji Zhen Tang smiled and said, “Don’t, I’m not looking in a mirror.”

His indulgence extended to letting her regrets flourish.

—

The day after the summer vacation started, Ji Zhen Tang went to the place arranged with the film crew: an ancient bridge in the old town of Qingcheng.

Before this, Zhu Qingying had accompanied her for a shoot, and the promotional video for “Red Jade Butterfly” had already been released. Thanks to good traffic and Wang Qianxing’s marketing expertise, the final response had been excellent.

This time, the design piece to be filmed was another series of classic jade jewelry with Jiangnan flair.

On the minibus, Ji Zhen Tang showed Zhu Qingying the previous video.

“It’s super beautiful! The transitions in the editing are spot-on, but of course, the main thing is that you’re gorgeous—like a goddess descending to earth. Forget bridal wear; even if you wore a potato sack, you’d still get at least 300,000 likes.”

With a sweet mouth, Zhu Qingying didn’t look at her phone anymore but turned to look at Ji Zhen Tang’s profile, smiling softly.

“Your camera presence is out of this world, sister.”

She replied, “I did some modeling for book covers in school.”

Ji Zhen Tang paused, then her eyes curved in a smile. “No wonder; I really do have a sharp eye. I picked a pro without even knowing it.”

Zhu Qingying chuckled but didn’t respond further.

She was quiet, the type who wouldn’t speak unless necessary. Ji Zhen Tang could tell that she was avoiding any unnecessary social interactions.

She put down her phone, jokingly asked, “What’s with your manager slacking off? He’s been absent so many times—you should definitely dock his pay.”

Zhu Qingying looked slightly puzzled. “What manager?”

Then, as if recalling something, she laughed softly. “Oh, you took his word for it.”

The car sped along, sunlight filtering through the shadows of the trees, casting patterns on the girl’s delicate eyelids. Ji Zhen Tang, watching her gentle brows, asked with a hint of curiosity, “In families like yours, are marriages arranged with a heavy emphasis on interest?”

“Possibly,” Zhu Qingying replied indifferently, “but I don’t really care about that.”

“Do you really not care at all?”

“Maybe the process moved too quickly; by the time I had the chance to care, everything was already settled,” she explained. “My marriage was arranged by my family; I just need to go along with it.”

Ji Zhen Tang was a bit surprised and asked, “So you don’t want to get married yourself?”

“I’m not opposed to marriage,” she paused, “but I hoped it could improve my then less-than-ideal situation.”

“Has it improved?”

Zhu Qingying thought for a moment and simply said, “It has changed.”

After her reply, she turned to the deeply contemplative Ji Zhen Tang and asked, “Do you really want to get married?”

Ji Zhen Tang felt a bit embarrassed and stammered, “No, not really. I don’t know; I’m still young.”

Zhu Qingying smiled gently. “Many significant events are decided unexpectedly, not according to your plans at all. When you get married and who you marry—all of it is a series of twists and turns. It’s like you said, opening a mystery box.”

Ji Zhen Tang couldn’t help but ask, “So do you think you’ve opened the gift you wanted?”

She pondered briefly before replying, “It’s not what I wanted, but it’s still a very nice gift.”

In the summer in Jiangnan, it was not at all gentle or beautiful; the brick path was scorching hot, and it was nearly impossible to stay in the sun.

As the shooting progressed to the latter half, a young man came over enthusiastically with some food and drinks. The staff naturally asked who sent it, and the young man replied it was from Mr. Chen.

At that moment, Ji Zhen Tang was sitting in the outdoor garden of a café on the ancient street, reading the script. She saw a stranger approaching with food and drinks to distribute. Turning around, she caught sight of Kulinan across the bridge, a familiar face from a previous encounter.

Zhu Qingying was in the center of the bridge, posing with a hand fan.

She had a lot of stamina; even though she was nearly melting from the heat, her face showed no signs of discomfort. She exuded a calm and natural coolness, her clear, cool eyes gazing at the camera.

Someone approached Ji Zhen Tang from behind.

A deep male voice asked, “Do you have an umbrella?”

She looked up to see a tall man in a white shirt and dress pants.

The café owner responded and quickly brought over an umbrella.

Chen Ke took it, said “Thanks,” and then walked toward the bridge.

When the photographer called out “Cut,” signaling a pause in filming, Chen Ke promptly opened the umbrella, ensuring his wife didn’t have to endure a single extra second in the sun.

Zhu Qingying handed him a lipstick; without saying a word, he understood her intention.

Holding the umbrella with one hand, he leaned slightly to help her carefully retouch her makeup.

Ji Zhen Tang watched from the side, unable to help but smile. She remembered Su Yunli’s words about magnetic attraction, and at that moment, the attraction became tangible.

Zhu Qingying waited in silence, reading the words on the script. After a while, she looked up and asked him, “Did you buy a lot of things for everyone?”

Chen Ke capped the lipstick and tucked it back into his pocket. “Yeah, I told them to be nice and not to bully my wife while I’m away.”

She was momentarily taken aback but couldn’t help laughing as she asked, “Are you leaving soon?”

“Now that I’m here, why would I just leave you?” 

“Alright,” Zhu Qingying simply agreed but awkwardly added, “It’s not that I have to go with you; it’s just that the bus isn’t very comfortable, and it makes me dizzy if it drives too fast.”

Chen Ke observed her frowning expression for a moment and chuckled lightly. “Why didn’t you say you get motion sickness?”

“…”

He gently tapped her forehead with his finger. “You’re a closed-off nut.”

By the time Chen Ke arrived, Ji Zhen Tang had already stopped looking over there. She was studying some footage the photographer had sent. When she lifted her head, she noticed a person silently sitting across from her.

Ji Zhen Tang was sipping the cold mung bean porridge he had brought her when she met the gaze of the man staring intently at her. She suddenly relaxed her grip on the straw she was biting.

“Hello, Mr. Chen,” she greeted warmly.

He casually leaned against the chair across from her, legs crossed.

As she looked closely at his features, even though they shared a blood relation, Chen Ke was nothing like Zhong Yu Bai. He exuded an effortless, roguish charm, like a seasoned player holding a stack of cards in the game of love. However, the slight upward slant of his peach blossom eyes revealed little tenderness or softness when he looked at anyone other than his wife—only alertness and shrewdness.

She recalled Zhong Yu Bai’s words about Chen Ke’s motto: “If one doesn’t act for oneself, heaven and earth will punish.” Those words aptly described the look in his eyes.

Chen Ke didn’t greet her but jumped straight to the point. “How did you meet my brother?”

Ji Zhen Tang was momentarily taken aback by the question.

She wasn’t considering how they had met; she was questioning whether Chen Ke was testing her.

After a long pause with no reply, Chen Ke’s unwavering gaze urged her to respond.

Ji Zhen Tang finally said, “What do you want to know?”

At her words, he curved his lips slightly and looked down at his phone. “I don’t really want to ask anything. I just can’t see how you’d be suitable to be my sister-in-law.”

Ji Zhen Tang: “…”

She was stunned again and hadn’t quite processed it when she blurted out, “Who said I want to be your sister-in-law?”

“Then why did you ask about his mother?”

“I—I was just casually asking, being a bit nosy!”

Chen Ke chuckled. “Alright, sounds casual enough.”

“…”

She fell silent, and he lost interest in questioning her. Instead, he tapped on his phone screen and showed it to Ji Zhen Tang.

Looking down, she saw a substantial amount of money. Ji Zhen Tang’s eyes widened, and she counted the digits repeatedly in disbelief.

She heard him say, “My wife’s not making much in that lousy ad; it’s tough for her. Just add this to her payment, and let her have a little treat.”

He added cautiously, “Don’t say it’s from me.”

Ji Zhen Tang, always agreeable, put on a serious expression as if they had reached an agreement. “Okay, you can trust me completely.”

As soon as she finished speaking, a second transfer notification popped up.

It was a small amount from the initial sum, still not insignificant.

“What’s this?” she asked, puzzled.

Chen Ke replied cheerfully, “It’s yours.”

Ji Zhen Tang nearly burst out laughing. She suddenly found the man before her immensely impressive, and the compliments flowed out of her mouth: “Now that’s the kind of person who has a vision. I can see it at a glance. When people ask who would be suitable to be a big boss, I say our Mr. Chen is undoubtedly the one.”

As she spoke, she also gave a thumbs-up, praising him enthusiastically.

Chen Ke chuckled, “You’re just showing off.”

Ji Zhen Tang was taken aback and protested, “Why are you insulting me?”

He stood up to leave, casually saying, “I’m complimenting you.”

Chen Ke had done so many good deeds that he even promoted her account.

Ji Zhen Tang certainly knew who she was benefitting from, but with this support, she finally experienced the power of capital to command attention. She had only heard about it in rumors before, but now it was becoming tangible with the increasing number of her fans.

—

The sense of accomplishment that could combat emptiness soon found its way to Zhong Yu Bai.

On Qixi Festival, they met for dinner at Jiangbin Garden.

Thinking back to last year, their first meeting, which couldn’t quite be called a date, was at this restaurant he had reserved completely for them.

The twilight brought a soothing warmth.

The streets bustled with the sounds of rolling wheels, and the river seemed both distant and near, with boats sailing along. On this festive occasion, crowds filled the area, with couples walking hand in hand.

Zhong Yu Bai was dressed formally in a crisp shirt and black cufflinks, sitting across from her with an air of seriousness. This made her recall a cold, harsh truth he had shared with her during their previous meeting at this very spot: “All the bustling is for profit; all the commotion is for gain.”

At that time, the calmness in his words had made her realize how terrifying businessmen could be.

Outside, the lights danced colorfully, while inside, the scent of flowers mingled with soft music.

Ji Zhen Tang looked at the musicians playing the violin nearby and said, “This is so formal; you really put in the effort.”

Zhong Yu Bai considered this to be the basic setup for a holiday and replied, “Even old couples need a bit of romance.”

Hearing him say “old couple” warmed her heart.

“Exactly.”

They toasted at the upscale restaurant, and Ji Zhen Tang excitedly shared amusing stories from her shoots.

Zhong Yu Bai listened patiently. He wouldn’t get distracted or play on his phone while she spoke. Sometimes she felt her stories were dull, but he engaged with her, harmonizing in their conversation, allowing her to extend even the most mundane topics endlessly.

The desire to listen is a truly kind thing.

Whether it was intentional pampering or a reflection of his noble character, Ji Zhen Tang felt deeply moved.

“How are you planning to spend the Mid-Autumn Festival?” she asked.

Zhong Yu Bai replied, “It depends on what you need.”

Ji Zhen Tang inquired, “Aren’t you going to be with your family? Isn’t your family’s Mid-Autumn Festival important?”

He thought for a moment and sincerely said, “You are my first priority. The others come after, and they are important, but not as much as you.”

“Okay,” she smiled and gently stirred the goat cheese and avocado in her bowl, saying, “If you have anything that’s bothering you, like work troubles, you can talk to me about it.”

He replied, “There’s nothing bothering me.”

Ji Zhen Tang was not satisfied: “Saying that again, I don’t believe you have no obstacles in your work.”

Zhong Yu Bai paused for a moment and said, “In the past, when I encountered obstacles, I would find an escape.”

“For example?”

“For example, in spring, I would go out to see the flowers bloom, and in winter, I would go to the mountains to listen to the sound of snow. I’d feel the warmth of the sunset at dusk and let off fireworks alone at night. But after I met you, I put all that aside.”

He said, “Now, you are my escape.”

“But I haven’t done anything.”

He calmly replied, each word leaving no room for doubt: “You sitting here and sharing a meal with me is like lighting a lamp for me; it shows me the way I should go.”

“…”

Ji Zhen Tang looked at him, listening to him speak slowly, and she slowly smiled: “Do you know how charming you are when you talk sweetly?”

Zhong Yu Bai smiled softly in return: “Perhaps it’s because I’m speaking from the heart.”

That night, they didn’t stay over, and Zhong Yu Bai took her away from the dining place. His reasoning was sound: “Since we have a home, we shouldn’t stay at a hotel.”

He mentioned that hotels always gave a sense of being unsettled. Thinking about it, he realized he had hardly ever taken her to stay out.

His small apartment was in the city center, and it was Ji Zhen Tang’s first time there. She was filled with curiosity as she looked out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the countless lights below, the extravagant night scene, and the splendid city reflected in the river.

Before she could take it all in, the same window was suddenly covered by a warm handprint.

He overlooked her panic.

Her warm hand pressed tightly against the cold glass, her fingers gradually tightening until they formed a fist, capturing the strength she felt from her vulnerable fingertips.

Breathing out through her lips created steam, forming a round mist. She used her fingers to wipe several streaks on the glass, trying to see the city through the unclear fragments.

Speaking of fireworks, he really did put on a display for her, by the riverside, perfectly timed to light up the city. Unbeknownst to them, it quickly became a news highlight, appearing on many people’s phones, scattered across various corners, captured in eternity.

Ji Zhen Tang leaned against the window and murmured, “It feels like a dream…”

There was a plant fragrance at home, and the central air conditioning provided a comfortable breeze.

Zhong Yu Bai gave her all the details, creating a feeling of coming ashore in the nuances, because he knew she didn’t want to drift. Yet she still felt that it was too much like a dream.

It resembled that phrase, “a pillow of yellow millet.”

She raised her head, and the round mist spread out, making the glass blur even more. She couldn’t wipe it away or see clearly.

Thus, in this vast city, everything became unfocused.

The fireworks peaked at that moment, bursting with a loud bang and falling chaotically into the river. The night sky was magnificent. She looked up and saw something passing through the solitude, the sweet sounds of warblers echoing above her.

It peaked again and shattered.

“So beautiful, how long will it last—”

Ji Zhen Tang’s unclear words suddenly tightened, and she clenched her teeth.

A few seconds later, she heard him say heavily from behind, “It’s over.”

Her cheek left an imprint on the mist.

Ji Zhen Tang looked at the night, which had fallen back into loneliness, and after a while, she smiled and said, “Boss Zhong, you’re quite generous.”

Zhong Yu Bai brushed his hand across the surface of the water, asking her, “Did you notice the small adjustment I made?”

“Ah? I didn’t really look closely just now.” She turned back to him, “I also don’t know what the original design was like.”

He smiled faintly, a bit regretful, but didn’t mind too much: “Originally, there was a rose, but I had it changed to a begonia.”

Zhong Yu Bai lifted her up, and Ji Zhen Tang felt a sudden weightlessness, almost losing her balance. She reached out to grab something but ended up pulling off his sleeve cuff instead, so she fell completely into his arms.

But Zhong Yu Bai wouldn’t let her feel weightless; he held her steadily and effortlessly as he walked to the edge of the bed.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

Ji Zhen Tang’s heart raced heavily, unsure of what was causing it. Just seeing his handsome face made her blush: “What do you mean by like?”

The man leaned down, his deep gaze meeting hers as he softly said, “The fireworks and me.”

She nodded and replied, “I do like it. But it’s such a pity I didn’t get a good look at them; you spent so much for it.”

Ji Zhen Tang hadn’t seen the flowers, but he had, and they bloomed eagerly, impatiently.

She complained of the pain, saying, “I’m not dancing.” As Ji Zhen Tang spoke, she let her hand fall outward, and the sleeve cuff dropped to the floor, cushioned by his black trousers.

A thirty-year-old man could regain his youth in different ways; Zhong Yu Bai demonstrated that he didn’t need to pause. He said, “There’s nothing to regret; if you want to see them, I can do it again next time.”

She gently grasped his wrist resting against the pillow, feeling the tangled veins in his arm pulse beneath her delicate fingertips. She lifted her chin high, and the nightingale returned.

Zhong Yu Bai leaned down to kiss her, delving deeper, then paused, the veins at his temples pulsing as he bit her lower lip.

Half a minute later, the invisible fireworks fell to the ground. The bite marks and numbness slowly faded, and she thought, perhaps this feeling was called a lingering affection.

Ji Zhen Tang reflected deeply: “A person can die from three bowls of rice, but there’s also the possibility of dying from other things.”

She held onto him tightly, not letting him move. She thought she heard him chuckle softly by her ear. Zhong Yu Bai lay on his side, embracing her in a different way.

“Zhong Yu Bai, you are my medicine, the one sent by heaven to save me.” Ji Zhen Tang smiled faintly, as one needed to rely on something to foster courage. She finally had the chance to say this, and then suddenly asked, “Am I now going to start preventing withdrawal symptoms?”

He lightly paused his fingers in her hair: “Who said anything about withdrawal?”

“I…”

Zhong Yu Bai didn’t want her to continue, interrupting her: “The dream won’t wake up.”

—It was his promise that he wouldn’t let her wake up.

He said, “I won’t leave, and you shouldn’t either.”

Ji Zhen Tang’s eyes trembled softly. It seemed like for the first time, she heard him speaking to her in a tone that was almost pleading. Perhaps the awareness of surrender was too vivid, and she hadn’t yet broken free from it.

He still hadn’t corrected the order.

“If one day, I no longer want to be with you like this, will you still let me stay by your side?”

Zhong Yu Bai replied, “Intimacy is important, but it shouldn’t surpass love. In my heart, the order has never been reversed.”

He himself didn’t know how he had become so entangled, his heart moving with such measured grace.

Looking down at her, he asked, “Ah Zhen, would you be willing?”

She was deeply touched and said nothing but held him tightly for a long, long time; the answer was already clear.

It seemed the Mid-Autumn Festival wouldn’t come together this year.

Ji Huan had contacted Ji Zhen Tang in advance, saying he wanted to give her something, clearly worried that his daughter might go astray. Ji Zhen Tang relayed this to Zhong Yu Bai, and he naturally had no objections.

Zhong Yu Bai also received a call, this one from his father.

At that time, Ji Zhen Tang was taking a shower, and through the door, he brushed aside some irrational emotions and sat on the sofa to answer. On the other end, Zhong Bingwen succinctly stated, “Xiao Yu is coming back for the Mid-Autumn Festival this year.”

He responded calmly, as if expecting it, his mood unruffled.

Zhong Bingwen continued, “He mentioned two things. Since his mother has been managing her medication well these past two years, he wants her to move to Chen Zhang Yuan to live.”

Zhong Yu Bai didn’t respond, asking, “What’s the second thing?”

“He said he wants to watch Peking Opera on Mid-Autumn Festival, and he wants us to watch it together in the garden.”

He replied, “We can’t perform; the actors need to celebrate the festival too.”

Zhong Bingwen sighed lightly, helplessly saying, “It’s already arranged; the schedule is set.”

Zhong Yu Bai pondered, asking, “What play?”

“*The Orphan of Zhao*.”

He remained silent for a long time until the sound of water stopped in the bathroom. Zhong Yu Bai simply said he understood and would attend the appointment before hanging up.

In the warmth, he kissed her. Ji Zhen Tang found herself on the sink, forced to experience the chaos of his emotions today.

In the brief moments when his lips parted, she gasped and asked him what was wrong. Zhong Yu Bai didn’t answer, he just continued kissing her.

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