Zhōng Yì booked a flight for next Monday noon to Jiang City and told her parents she would be on a business trip for two or three days.
Jiāng Jìngyuān guessed where his daughter was headed: “Decided to go see Zhōu Sùjìn again?”
Zhōng Yì nodded. She had already set a meeting time with Zhōu Sùjìn:
“I want to learn more about Kuncheng Semiconductor’s manufacturing process. Even if the chip is developed, mass production is still a challenge.”
“I used to focus only on my own field, so I don’t know much about this. Now that we’re working cross-field, I have to understand the whole process inside and out.”
She thought Zhōu Sùjìn would be interested in participating in the project.
As for Zhōu Jiāyè, he needed to weigh more factors since he was responsible for his own division.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá didn’t understand these things and rubbed her daughter’s head: “Don’t worry, it’ll definitely work out. Our baby is destined to be someone who ends up in textbooks.”
Zhōng Yì smiled sheepishly.
That had been a boast she made as a child.
Her father had once urged her to study finance, but she wasn’t interested and didn’t want to manage a company.
She said she wanted to become a giant in a field she was passionate about—someone who would be included in professional textbooks in the future.
Zhōng Yì stopped talking about work to avoid ruining their afternoon tea mood.
“Where shall we go for tea?” she asked her father.
Jiāng Jìngyuān scrolled through chat records: “Mín Tíng recommended an outdoor café with tables and chairs under the ginkgo trees. It’s crowded on weekends, so I booked a spot early.”
Zhōng Yì was worried: “Isn’t it riskier to be exposed if there are more people?”
Zhōng Zhuóhuá said, “I’m not worried about being photographed. Why are you?”
Not long ago, she had gone shopping with Shí Fànyīn, and after they finished, they went to eat hotpot.
They were photographed inside the hotpot restaurant.
The next day, it was trending online. Gossip accounts said she had successfully squeezed into the elite circle thanks to Jiāng Jìngyuān and was even eating hotpot with Shí Fànyīn.
Shí Fànyīn’s fame wasn’t just because she married the third son of the Zhōu family and often appeared at the F1 Grand Prix.
Her prestigious background as the heiress of the powerful Shí family was also well known.
People were shocked that she and Shí Fànyīn could hang out like close girlfriends at the Beicheng Old Hotpot Restaurant.
Netizens said Zhōng Zhuóhuá was a mastermind, no wonder she could win Jiāng Jìngyuān’s heart and make him still openly show off their love at his middle age.
The only thing Zhōng Yì agreed with was that Jiāng Jìngyuān really was getting old.
Zhōng Yì always felt as if they had just gotten in the car and already arrived at their destination.
Before getting out, she took out sunglasses from her bag and put them on.
Jiāng Jìngyuān praised her: “So responsible!”
Zhōng Yì snorted but kept doing her own thing.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá grabbed her canvas bag: “How do you have everything in your bag?”
“Because it fits,” Zhōng Yì laughed.
The three of them got out of the car; Zhōng Yì linked arms with her mother and walked ahead.
It was the first time she had ever held her mother’s arm in front of strangers, stirring a bittersweet joy inside her.
The café had reserved a quiet corner seat as Jiāng Jìngyuān had requested.
“Would you like a red bean latte too?” Jiāng Jìngyuān asked his wife.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá pulled out sunglasses from her bag and replied, “Sure.”
At some point, her husband also put on sunglasses. A moment ago, he was complaining that their daughter was hopeless; the next moment, he was wearing sunglasses just like her.
On this spring-to-summer afternoon, drinking coffee under a hundred-year-old ginkgo tree should have been a leisurely pleasure, but with all three wearing sunglasses and quietly sipping coffee, it seemed none of them had decided what to talk about.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá pointed at her daughter’s bag: “Do we look like your bag? So full.”
“…” Zhōng Yì was amused and laughed.
As Zhōng Zhuóhuá casually turned her head, a young woman at a nearby table smiled and waved at her, mouthing, “Zhōng Jiě!”
She hadn’t expected to be recognized so quickly, so she smiled and raised her hand in greeting.
Zhōng Yì caught a glimpse of her mother exchanging greetings with the neighboring table but kept her head down, continuing to eat her cake without looking around.
“Is that your fan?”
“Yeah.”
“Good thing I wore sunglasses.”
“It wouldn’t matter if you hadn’t. They wouldn’t randomly take photos of ordinary people around me.”
“Would they take pictures of our San Ge?”
She carefully changed what she called her father.
Jiāng Jìngyuān frowned: “Don’t call him whatever you want. Call him properly. Having afternoon tea shouldn’t feel like you’re sneaking around.”
Zhōng Yì retorted, “Zhōu Shíyì used to call you San Ge.”
“Zhōng Jiě, will they photograph San Ge?” She followed up quickly.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá sipped her coffee: “He’s not an ordinary person; he’s been famous since forever ago.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān was helpless as he looked at his wife.
Almost every day, he had to endure her snide remarks.
But when she wasn’t home, he found it too lonely.
“Is the cake good?” Zhōng Zhuóhuá changed the subject and asked her daughter.
Zhōng Yì nodded: “Not too sweet or greasy. Should I ask Jiāng Dǒng to order you a piece?”
Zhōng Zhuóhuá rarely ate sweets but hesitated for a few seconds before looking at her husband.
Jiāng Jìngyuān understood immediately and added an order.
“You’re something else—calling him San Ge and then Jiāng Dǒng.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān was helpless but full of tenderness.
Zhōng Yì said, “It’s my first time going out; cut me some slack to get used to it.”
Over the years, whenever she was out, she reflexively called her mother Zhōng Jiě and her father Jiāng Dǒng. After more than twenty years of mental tension, she couldn’t suddenly switch at will.
***
Today, coming out with her parents, the feeling was like being in the dark for a long time, then suddenly the lights turn on, so bright she couldn’t open her eyes, needing time to adjust.
Zhōng Yì lifted her coffee cup and clinked it against her mother’s, then leaned forward to clink it with her father’s: “Congratulations!”
Congratulations to her parents for finally being able to hold hands anytime.
And congratulations to herself for completing the mission of protecting her mother.
She found it hard to believe she had kept a secret all these years—it hadn’t been easy for over twenty years.
Growing up was better; childhood was the hardest.
She especially wanted to invite classmates home for her birthday but knew she couldn’t because at that time, her parents weren’t legally married, and her mother was at the peak of her acting career.
Fortunately, all that was behind her now.
People around her didn’t understand why she liked riding boats so much or why she loved eating Dingsheng Cake.
Locals from Lù Chéng especially couldn’t get why she would ride the boat every day.
Because whether it was the Wupeng Boat or Dingsheng Cake, they were the most fun memories of her childhood.
They were the happiest parent-child moments she had with her father.
After toasting with her parents, Zhōng Yì took a selfie of the three of them.
It was their first family photo taken outside.
What was a mundane thing for others was a first for her today.
After finishing half her coffee, she no longer felt as cautious as when she first arrived.
Wearing sunglasses while drinking coffee and eating cake felt awkward, so she took them off.
Jiāng Jìngyuān followed suit and removed his sunglasses. He had wanted to take them off earlier but was doing it to accompany his daughter.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá was used to wearing sunglasses and also took them off.
The family appeared in the public eye without any concealment.
It wasn’t just their daughter who was uncomfortable; even Zhōng Zhuóhuá, long accustomed to the spotlight, needed a moment to adjust.
Zhōng Yì leisurely sipped her coffee and lined up the three pairs of sunglasses on the corner of the table.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the still sparse ginkgo leaves, casting dappled light over the three of them.
As a mother, Zhōng Zhuóhuá couldn’t help but have concerns and reminded her daughter in advance: “There might not be paparazzi today, but if one day your background is exposed, don’t care about what people say online.”
She no longer wanted to prove herself, that she hadn’t come between Jiāng Jìngyuān’s previous relationship or forced her way into the family.
Because even if clarified, people would still say she rose because Jiāng Jìngyuān’s first love started another family, and he was so disheartened he recklessly had a child with her.
There would always be mockery and sneers.
Actually, even she thought that Jiāng Jìngyuān had been with her back then because he couldn’t get over his first love, not because of real feelings.
He couldn’t forget his first love but couldn’t go back either, so he gave himself no chance to look back.
Jiāng Jìngyuān looked at his wife: “She’s grown now. You don’t need to worry so much.”
“How can I not worry? You know how people are naturally interested in gossip. Soon, the whole company will be talking about her! The same department will be even more curious!”
Zhōng Yì interjected: “Zhōng Jiě, you really don’t need to worry. Even without this, I’m the center of attention at the company.”
Zhōng Zhuóhuá smiled helplessly.
Jiāng Jìngyuān sipped his coffee: “Zhōng Yì isn’t as fragile as you think. We both looked forward to her being born. It’s not like we don’t love her. We only had her because we had no other choice.”
Zhōng Zhuóhuá scoffed: “Who knows?”
“You’re being unreasonable,” Jiāng Jìngyuān said helplessly. “We were serious from the start. If you don’t believe me, what can I do?”
Zhōng Zhuóhuá turned her face away, pretending to admire the hydrangeas around the café.
Jiāng Jìngyuān exchanged a look with his daughter. Father and daughter finally shared a tacit understanding.
Zhōng Yì picked up her coffee and got up to switch seats with her father, sitting opposite her parents.
Jiāng Jìngyuān pulled his chair closer to his wife and sat down beside her.
The waiter just happened to bring the piece of cake Zhōng Zhuóhuá ordered.
He cut off a small slice and brought it to her lips with a fork.
Zhōng Yì quietly opened her camera while they weren’t paying attention.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá was too shy to look around, unsure if anyone was watching them.
Embarrassed, she didn’t want to be fed but took the cake from his hand.
If only when they were young, he hadn’t insisted on arguing over who was right or wrong every time, but instead coaxed her like this.
Maybe then they wouldn’t have split up so many times.
Zhōng Yì recorded her parents’ interaction and shared it with her mother.
She also sent a message to Jiāng Jìngyuān: [Dad, you’re dressing really young today (laughing).]
They stayed in the café until the twilight settled.
Zhōng Yì sent a message: [Boarded?]
Zhōu Shíyì: [Taking off soon.]
Zhōng Yì: [Safe takeoff and landing.]
After a few seconds, she still asked: [Where are you going for the business trip?]
Zhōu Shíyì: [Boston.]
When those three words appeared on the screen, Zhōng Yì’s heart jumped twice, but she knew he wouldn’t return to that house.
She still remembered the expression on his face when she broke up with him.
When they were together, he indulged her without limits.
At the breakup, he would never bow his head to make amends.
On the way home from the café, Zhōng Yì picked a photo of coffee and cake from her album and posted it on Moments with the caption: Zhōng Jiě and Jiāng San Ge treated me to afternoon tea (coffee)
She had spent a relaxed and happy weekend afternoon, thanking her generous parents!
A colleague immediately commented: Our President Zhōng is so lively after all (playful)
Yuán: [So you take your mother’s surname! Busy lately? Come eat at my place sometime, try my cooking.]
They hadn’t met since the art exhibition.
Yuán was the first person she had let down her guard with and was willing to be close friends.
Zhōng Yì: [I have a business trip next Monday. I’ll come over this weekend and bring you wedding candies.]
Yuán excitedly: [Wow! You’re getting married? Congratulations!]
She didn’t dare to ask directly if the groom was Zhōu Shíyì, though their eyes had exchanged more than ordinary glances at the banquet. Whether they’d reconcile was uncertain.
Yuán couldn’t help but gossip: [Do I know the groom?]
Zhōng Yì: [Yes. My ex-boyfriend.]
Yuán was happy for her and congratulated her again.
[When’s the wedding?]
[19th of next month.]
Yuán: [Isn’t that three days after the Kuncheng Motors launch? I heard President Zhōu will attend too. Won’t your honeymoon have to be postponed then?]
Zhōng Yì: [I don’t have time to travel in May anyway. We used to go on trips often, so it doesn’t matter.]
[Is your company one of the suppliers for this launch?]
Yuán: [Yes, one of the suppliers! For an event of this scale, you have to do everything you can to participate! I’ll be there too; maybe I’ll run into you (sneaky smile).]
Zhōng Yì just smiled and said nothing more.
She had been paying close attention to the upcoming Kuncheng new car launch and heard that Lù Chéng would appear at the event.
So she was still hesitating whether to support Zhōu Shíyì.
When she refreshed her Moments again, Níng Quē left a comment: [You take your mother’s surname?]
Zhōng Yì: [Yes.]
Níng Quē: [I was startled by your first sentence in the caption. I thought you went for afternoon tea with our second major shareholder.]
Then looking further, he saw it was actually with her parents.
Zhōng Yì decided to tell him the truth, knowing they’d find out at the latest by the wedding day: [It was afternoon tea with Jiāng Jìngyuān and Zhōng Zhuóhuá. They’re my parents.]
Níng Quē laughed: [You’re getting funnier after getting married.]
Zhōng Yì: [Not me. Mín Tíng is my cousin.]
Níng Quē laughed again.
But as he laughed, the smile faded…
***
The next morning at nine, Zhōng Yì received a brief message from Zhōu Shíyì confirming he had arrived: [Arrived.]
Zhōng Yì thought he had just landed and replied: [OK.]
Zhōu Shíyì didn’t respond again and put his phone away in his suit pocket.
The car stopped, the bodyguards got out first, opened umbrellas, and held the doors.
It was raining in Boston that day just like the day they broke up.
The lawn in the yard was neatly trimmed, with not a fallen leaf in sight.
The flowering branches in front of the door were carefully pruned, and the hydrangeas were in full bloom.
The house was still being maintained, cleaned daily.
Zhōu Shíyì opened the door and went inside.
Because he hadn’t lived here for a long time, the house no longer had the atmosphere it once did.
Aside from the furniture, the place was empty.
He turned and instructed the bodyguards: “Carefully take down the oil painting in the study upstairs.”
“All right.”
The bodyguard closed the umbrella and headed upstairs.
The study was half empty too.
The desk was clean; only a few rows of books remained in the bookshelf—probably ones the owner hadn’t taken.
The oil painting was still there.
While the painting was being taken down, Zhōu Shíyì stayed downstairs.
He took off his suit jacket and sat on the sofa, surveying the place he had lived in for many years.
When he and Zhōng Yì registered their marriage, he never thought he would return here again.
Light passed over the kitchen island and landed on the coffee machine on the counter.
He used to make coffee for her often.
When his gaze passed the refrigerator, he paused slightly, unable to see clearly from afar what was stuck on it.
There had never been anything stuck on the fridge before.
He stood up and walked over.
Closer, he saw it was a sticky note.
Perhaps worried the glue would lose its stick over time, she had pinned down all four corners with magnets.
Zhōu Shíyì removed the magnets and peeled off the note.
It was written in her handwriting.
[Went on a business trip to Belgium a few days ago and bought some chocolates you often bought me.
I don’t know why I suddenly wanted to tell you this.
Tomorrow I’m returning to the country. I won’t need this place anymore and probably won’t come back to Boston.
Thank you for arranging everything for me. I didn’t get the chance to say this on the day we broke up.
I should have come down to see you off that day, but I wasn’t magnanimous enough.
I’m sorry for saying so many hurtful things.]