There were a total of twelve photos. Zhōu Shíyì had looked through them repeatedly.
Ten were from the first shoot, and only two had been recovered from the second set.
Though the second set of wedding photos was meant to ease the tension between them, it couldn’t compare to the emotions during the first shoot, when feelings were intense and complicated—emotions that perhaps would never surface again.
At that time, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and said she had always loved him.
But in the end, they still parted ways.
Zhōu Shíyì lightly tapped the keyboard, and the photos began to play one by one again.
He glanced at the clock in the bottom right corner of the computer screen: 12:30 a.m.
He gently patted Zhōng Yì’s shoulder. “Zhōng Yì?”
Zhōng Yì was a light sleeper; she heard the voice and opened her eyes drowsily.
She said, “A few more have been recovered.”
“I see.”
Zhōng Yì took a moment before straightening up from her desk.
At the moment the photos were restored, she felt as if a great weight had been lifted, but immediately afterwards, she felt completely drained—as if all the air had been let out of a balloon.
Only exhaustion and sleepiness remained.
Unfortunately, only this many photos could be recovered.
Zhōu Shíyì stood beside her, his fingertips pressing on the keyboard as he continued scrolling. “Why couldn’t Níng Quē recover hers?”
“She probably wasn’t too invested.”
If she guessed right, Níng Quē was just buying time, waiting for her to take the initiative to ask for the laptop.
Zhōu Shíyì looked through the last photo. “Send me all the pictures.”
He added, “Send them by email.”
He seemed to have some psychological shadow, fearing she might delete them again.
Zhōng Yì logged into her email while saying, “I won’t delete them anymore.”
Zhōu Shíyì said, “Make a backup. Deleting photos might be hereditary.”
Thinking of how her mother had also deleted photos with her father, Zhōng Yì found herself unable to argue.
She compressed the files and sent them to his email.
Originally, the two sets of wedding photos had consisted of two to three hundred shots, and now only twelve remained. Zhōu Shíyì inevitably felt regret.
But at least some were recovered—just barely enough for the wedding.
Zhōng Yì closed the computer and suggested again, “If it’s really not enough, we can take another set—maybe just backs or side profiles. As long as it’s not a frontal shot, it should be fine.”
“Zhōng Yì, wedding photos are memories for ourselves. Instead of posed shots, I’ll have someone generate a few for you.”
Zhōu Shíyì picked up a suit from the sofa and habitually checked the inner pocket—his things were still there.
He put on the suit while looking at her, not wanting her to feel wronged. “This is the second time you’ve brought up wedding photos. I’ll make it up to you twice more in the future. But not now.”
“Go to bed early.”
Zhōng Yì picked up the coffee cup from the corner of the desk and had just taken a sip when his long, strong hand reached over. “It’s too late. Don’t drink it.”
Zhōu Shíyì took the bone china cup from her hand and explained, “Dad thought you’d be working late, so he made an extra cup.”
Hearing this, Zhōng Yì swallowed her reply—“If you made it, I’ll have a few more sips”—along with the coffee.
Her hand?
She closed the computer, ready to sleep.
When she exited the wedding photo interface, she couldn’t help but ask the man walking toward the door, “Are you still upset with me for bringing up the breakup back then?”
Zhōu Shíyì stopped and turned around.
They stared at each other from two or three meters apart.
“It’s all in the past. Whether I’m upset or not, there won’t be any more conflicts between us.”
He repeated what he had said before, “After we’re married, if you have any requests, you can tell me.”
He paused. “Including treating you like before—just say the word.”
He reminded her once more, “Go to bed early.” Then he closed the door behind him.
Zhōng Yì: [Good night.]
Zhōu Shíyì: [Mm. Good night.]
***
After replying to messages, on the second floor he ran into his father-in-law.
Jiāng Jìngyuān was about to return to his study for a meeting and saw Zhōu Shíyì holding a nearly untouched cup of coffee. “Zhōng Yì didn’t drink?”
“She had two sips and then went to sleep.”
“Any progress with the photos?”
“About ten have been recovered.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān understood immediately; the rest were likely hopeless and comforted him, “You can take new ones later.”
Zhōu Shíyì said, “Dad, I’m heading back. You get some rest after your meeting.”
“Alright.” Jiāng Jìngyuān patted his son-in-law’s shoulder. “Drive carefully.”
He felt quietly pleased—finally, the couple had started to break the ice on their own.
Since the kids’ wedding photos had been partially recovered, there was hope for him and Zhōng Zhuóhuá’s photos as well.
Yáng Jiāyuàn had once donated to the Tongxin Charity Foundation.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá saw her name on the donor list and was heartbroken for a long time, deleting all the photos and records of their acquaintance and past years.
That had been the first time they separated after having a child.
Their couple photos had been few to begin with; she cleared them all with one click.
Now, only family photos of the three of them remained—no longer any solo photos of the two in their youth.
He had once suggested asking Mǐn Tíng to find someone to restore them, but she didn’t respond.
Seeing her silent, he never brought it up again.
It had been so long; if not for their daughter bringing it up, she might have even forgotten deleting the photos.
***
Outside in the yard, the Meibach drove away.
Zhōu Shíyì returned home. The butler was still up and said that his mother had come over, waited for two hours, and, thinking he was staying at his father-in-law’s tonight, had just left.
Zhōu Shíyì sent a message to his mother: [Mom, why didn’t you call me?]
Mother: [You went to your father-in-law’s for dinner, why would I bother you? Besides, I had nothing urgent, just passing by.]
Zhōu Shíyì: [Did you just get back from a trip?]
Mother jokingly: [No trip. I’ve been busy lately checking if your dad has any other children.]
Zhōu Shíyì: [Then my dad must be overwhelmed—you’re finally paying attention to him.]
Mother: [Shut up!]
Mother returned to the point: [Do you really believe your dad that you’re his only child?]
Zhōu Shíyì: [Not because I believe him, but because I believe your methods.]
Mother scolded with a smile: [You’re asking for a beating!]
She sent another message: [You’re a complete idiot!]
Mother: [Why did you come back so late? Didn’t Zhōng Yì stay over?]
Zhōu Shíyì typed with a neutral expression: [Not far, easier to sleep at home.]
Mother: [Sounds like she didn’t keep you, otherwise I wouldn’t believe you’d refuse.]
Zhōu Shíyì:
Mother hit the nail on the head:
[You’re willing to marry into the family even after being dumped, and it wasn’t even Zhōng Yì who approached you—Jiang Jìngyuān did. You didn’t refuse. If Zhōng Yì asked you, would you refuse?]
Go.
Mother teased him: [If she didn’t keep you, she didn’t. What’s there to be ashamed of in front of me? If it’s really bad, next time just force yourself to stay there.]
Zhōu Shíyì:
The conversation ended.
He didn’t reply again.
Mother stopped teasing: [I really didn’t expect you to come back.]
They say no one knows a child better than their mother, but this time she miscalculated.
Her son was just like her—once he made a decision, there was no turning back, and no dragging things out.
So after breaking up with Zhōng Yì, he never returned to the Boston home.
Who would have thought that three years later, the two would marry again?
The girl the old man had introduced to his son before—he had said she was perfect in every way. She thought they were headed for marriage.
Mother: [You’re getting married, and your dad is even happier than you. Finally, he can be related to Jiang Jìngyuān—they’re two peas in a pod!]
Zhōu Shíyì thought for a long time, unsure how to respond.
If his mother only mocked his father, he wouldn’t care how he replied, but now with his father-in-law involved, he was more cautious.
[Mum, you should rest early.]
After ending the chat, Zhōu Shíyì went upstairs.
His bedroom door was closed. He methodically buttoned his shirt and pushed the door open.
When Zhōng Yì came over earlier, she probably hadn’t entered the bedroom.
***
The next morning, Zhōng Yì sat in front of the mirror drying her hair when Zhōng Zhuóhuá knocked and came in.
“Mom, why didn’t you sleep in longer?”
“To have breakfast with you.” Zhōng Zhuóhuá took the hairdryer from her daughter. “If I don’t, soon you’ll be married and not at home anymore.”
She sighed at how fast time flew. “Feels like you were just this little.”
She gestured at her reflection.
Twenty-six years had passed in a flash.
Neither she nor Jiāng Jìngyuān was young anymore.
“Zhōng Jiě, don’t be so sentimental. Once you’re married, you can still come back to stay.”
“Coming back to stay just means more trouble.”
Zhōng Yì smiled and leaned back into her mother’s embrace.
“Oh, sit up straight! That’s not good for drying your hair.”
Zhōng Yì ignored her and stayed put.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá carefully styled her daughter’s hair and asked when she’d have time to go pick out wedding dresses and jewelry.
She hadn’t had a wedding of her own and wanted to give her daughter the best of everything.
Zhōng Yì asked, “Should we have the brand send things home to try on?”
“Let’s go to the store. I haven’t gone shopping with you yet.” Zhōng Zhuóhuá said, “I’ll bring the manager, and you bring Jì Fánxīng.”
If they got caught by the paparazzi, she would own up to it.
But even if they did get photographed, the paparazzi wouldn’t make a big deal out of it—they wouldn’t expect her to so boldly reveal herself in the eye of the storm.
Mother and daughter talked from wedding dresses to the wedding itself.
“Grandpa asked me to apologize.”
“It’s in the past.” No need to say more.
Back then, she had insisted that Jiāng Jìngyuān take their daughter back to the old house, not wanting adult matters to affect the child’s enjoyment of family affection.
As for herself, she would never go to the old house.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá finished styling her daughter’s hair and put down the hairdryer. “Today, Mom will do your makeup. Let you enjoy being a queen for once.”
“Thanks, Zhōng Jiě!” Zhōng Yì hugged her mother’s waist.
“Sit still.” Zhōng Zhuóhuá pinched her daughter’s cheek. “I haven’t scolded you yet for making your coffee sweeter and sweeter. Your throat must be killing you!”
Zhōng Yì pretended not to hear and said, “Just do the base for me.”
With a mask and lipstick, that was her daily work makeup.
After the simple makeup and getting everything ready, the two went downstairs.
In the dining room, Jiāng Jìngyuān was already seated at the table in business attire.
Last night, he had a cross-continental video conference past midnight; when she had briefly woken, he hadn’t yet returned to the bedroom.
She had fallen asleep again, unaware when the meeting ended—at least one or two in the morning.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá glanced at the time out of habit. “You only slept five hours. At your age, can your body handle it?”
She couldn’t help but worry but also teased him a little.
“I’m fine.” Jiāng Jìngyuān heard the teasing about his age but didn’t mind.
Not wanting to upset her, he first handed her the cutlery, then placed a spoon in the bowl of soft-boiled egg and pushed it toward their daughter.
He pointed to the notebook on the island counter. “Try to recover what you can when you have time. It’s been deleted for many years.”
Zhōng Yì looked at the notebook; she remembered it well.
Most of what was saved inside were her mother’s files, so she had kept it all this time.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá continued, “If you can’t recover it, it’s okay.”
Zhōng Yì had already recovered her own photos and had plenty of time. “I’ll check the situation again tonight.” She looked at her father’s business shirt. “Any negotiations today?”
“No.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān answered slowly, “Not like when I was young. Have to watch my image now.”
Zhōng Zhuóhuá laughed.
Zhōng Yì smiled; her mother was teasing her about their age difference.
“Zhōng Jiě is thirty-five, and you’re forty.”
Zhōng Zhuóhuá snorted and stuffed a piece of bitter chrysanthemum and ham into her daughter’s mouth.
“You say I’m thirty-five? Does anyone really believe that? And you say he’s forty—who would believe that?”
Zhōng Yì: “Dad’s at most forty-five!”
She patted her father to comfort him, “Still very young.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān never cared about his age in front of others.
Only with Zhōng Zhuóhuá did he care, knowing she was just teasing him in anger, but he took it to heart anyway.
Zhōng Yì quickly finished breakfast, wanting to avoid being a third wheel. She grabbed her car keys and left for work.
She also brought the old notebook.
Only a dozen or so photos had been recovered; there was still regret.
Now there was only one solution left—disassembling and rereading the chip’s original data.
At the company, Zhōng Yì carried the stack of books she had received yesterday to find Níng Quē.
Níng Quē was eating breakfast, holding a half-eaten sandwich in his right hand and typing on the keyboard with his left.
“Here are the books back.”
Zhōng Yì put the stack on his desk. “I’ve taken over the Kuncheng project.”
Níng Quē’s hovering fingers paused briefly above the keyboard. “Have you thought it through?”
She nodded.
Unexpected but understandable.
Yesterday she had taken back the laptop voluntarily; Níng Quē had a feeling she would eventually take on the project.
Just hadn’t expected her to come around so quickly.
Zhōng Yì asked him to notify Kuncheng of an online meeting at 3 p.m.
Níng Quē reminded her, “Didn’t you just have one yesterday?”
“Don’t get mad, but yesterday’s meeting might as well not have happened.”
“You all don’t want to face the problems!”
“It’s not about avoiding them.” Níng Quē stopped his work. “The intelligent driving model Kuncheng has been developing for almost two years—how much money have they poured into it?”
“Now you tell them your model isn’t good enough. Who do you think would accept that?”
He swallowed the sandwich in one bite.
“Even if I tell them the model has serious problems and no future competitiveness, would they believe me? Not only would they not believe it, they’d think we at Jinghe are trying to rip them off.”
Zhōng Yì said, “Email Zhan Liang. Have him notify the boss to attend the meeting. Also, prepare them mentally—I never sugarcoat things in meetings, even if they’re the client.”
Níng Quē thought, I’m not even the client, and you’re not nice to me either.
They worked through lunch, and Zhōng Yì used the break to drive to Jinghe headquarters.
Mǐn Tíng was in the company today, and she took the elevator straight to the boss’s floor.
Throughout the group, she was one of the few who could see the boss anytime without an appointment.
Even Níng Quē envied her, marveling at the difference in treatment when the boss personally recruited you.
The secretary knew who she was, skipped the small talk, and said, “Mǐn Zǒng is in his office.”
Zhōng Yì went directly to the door, which was closed.
She knocked, “Cousin?”
“Come in.”
Mǐn Tíng took his eyes off the reception area and looked at her. “Have you eaten lunch?”
“Not hungry yet. I’ll eat later.” Zhōng Yì closed the door behind her. “Help me with something.”
“Even Zhōu Shíyì can be dealt with by you. What can’t you handle?”
“In regards to Zhōu Shíyì’s wedding photos.”
Zhōng Yì placed the laptop in front of her cousin. “Have the chip R&D team help me disassemble and reread it.”
Jinghe Group’s chip R&D team was also in the park but rarely interacted with her. The only option was to ask the boss.
Mǐn Tíng said nothing but looked toward the reception area. “You two really are in sync.”
“Of course, after all, the certificate has been obtained.”
Zhōng Yì spun around sharply at the voice—Zhōu Shíyì was sitting on the sofa in the reception area.
She had been lost in thought and hadn’t noticed anyone there when she entered earlier.
Zhōu Shíyì had arrived ten minutes earlier, just finished explaining the situation to Mǐn Tíng, and hadn’t expected her to knock and come in.
Mǐn Tíng hadn’t experienced photo deletion like this but imagined if his and his wife’s wedding photos were destroyed, the first thing he would do would be to disassemble the chip.
“Leave the laptop here for now. I’ll let you know when there’s news.”
He glanced at his watch. “I’m going to take a nap this morning. You can talk here.”
A subtle way of ushering them out.
After leaving Mǐn Tíng’s office, Zhōng Yì mentioned the 3 p.m. meeting. “Zhan Liang told you, right?”
“Yes.”
“Remember to attend on time.”
As they spoke, the two entered the elevator.
Zhōng Yì tilted her head and asked, “You said before the family heirloom ring was outdated, not suitable. So you don’t have a proper ring either?”
“I want to give you one. When will you have time to pick one? I don’t want us to wear mismatched rings at the wedding.”