Hearing her laughter on the other end, Zhōng Yì relaxed—laughter meant a good result.
Jì Fánxīng continued, “Shao Jin An said if you want to date, you can try with him.”
He also said that if her family ever arranges a marriage, he’d break up amicably.
One relationship is enough; it doesn’t have to last forever.
Shao Jin An was personally accomplished; both his parents were doctors, and conditions were quite good.
But in her father’s eyes, it was clearly a mismatch.
Zhōng Yì congratulated her first: “What’s your plan next?”
Jì Fánxīng: “To imitate Zhōu Shíyì.”
“Imitate Zhōu Shíyì?”
“Yeah. Shimu likes you so much because Zhōu Shíyì often talks about you with her. Even when you won the high school math competition gold, Shimu was moved to tears.”
Zhōng Yì was quite surprised; Zhōu Shíyì had never told her these things.
She thought he never mentioned her in front of his parents.
After all, at that time, he didn’t know her true identity and thought she came from an ordinary family in a Jiangnan Town.
Their family backgrounds were too different, making it difficult to be together in the end.
Jì Fánxīng: “I don’t intend to hide it from my parents.”
After just three minutes of chatting, leaving two minutes for Zhōng Yì to prepare for the meeting, Jì Fánxīng hung up.
At the group meeting, Zhōng Yì asked Níng Quē if there was any feedback from the chip side.
“None for now. Yán Tínglín said we’ll discuss it together at next week’s weekly meeting.”
Zhōng Yì had a bad feeling; the model’s accuracy was likely to suffer.
Coupled with what Zhōu Shíyì said last night about Yán Tínglín hitting a bottleneck, the premonition grew stronger.
Níng Quē: “Don’t worry too much. The current issues are solvable.”
His biggest concern was the tests on the simulation platform versus real roads—that’s when the toughest problems arise.
At this early R&D stage, only their team and the chip team were involved, making disagreements easier to resolve.
Later, Shao Jin An’s team and the Kuncheng Project technical team would join.
Then the table would be full of big shots, and he’d worry about how to coordinate them.
And this phase would last at least a year, possibly indefinitely.
After the meeting, the assistant reminded Níng Quē not to forget the photo shoot at noon.
Níng Quē nodded. “Okay, I’ll set an alarm.”
Zhōng Yì walked ahead, then turned back and asked, “What photos?”
Níng Quē fibbed, “My passport is expiring.”
A few days ago, Zhōu Shíyì had informed them that the wedding would be held in Fengche Village around July or August next year, so they should apply for visas early.
Zhōng Yì didn’t doubt Níng Quē’s words and sat at her desk until noon when Jiāng Jìngyuān called, pulling her out of the code.
While waiting downstairs at the Algorithm Building for his daughter, Jiāng Jìngyuān flipped through photos from her childhood.
Her pictures and videos took up most of his phone’s storage.
People say liking to reminisce is a sign of aging.
Since his daughter got married, when he was home alone, he often looked at videos and photos from twenty years ago.
When she was four, the family went to Fengche Village.
At the time, Zhōng Zhuóhuá had just finished filming a movie but had trouble breaking out of her character’s emotional state, so she gave herself a long break.
It was the only long break in her acting career and also the happiest time for mother and daughter.
No one in Fengche Village knew Zhōng Zhuóhuá, so she only needed to wear sunglasses when going out.
When no one was around, she didn’t even need the sunglasses.
For two months, her daughter clung to her and didn’t want to let go.
Jiāng Jìngyuān was looking at old photos of Fengche Village when Zhōng Yì approached the Bentley.
The rear window was down; she stuck her head in. “What are you looking at?”
Jiāng Jìngyuān handed her the phone. “Looking at your childhood photos.”
In the photos, her mother wore sunglasses, holding her, with a row of windmills in the background.
Zhōng Yì was instantly pulled into distant and fuzzy memories.
She only remembered her mother’s words: “Baby, look at the camera.”
Other details were lost.
She flipped through all the Fengche Village photos in her father’s album from start to finish, always feeling that the windmill scenes in her memory weren’t quite like those in the photos.
Maybe her memories were flawed.
The place she loved and tried to paint, but could never quite capture, was just a place she imagined—it didn’t exist in reality.
She told her father, “When there’s time, I want to visit Fengche Village again. Zhōu Shíyì said he’s never been; next time, I’ll take him with me.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān put away his phone calmly. “Looking at these photos makes me want to revisit the old place too.”
Zhōng Yì opened the car door for her father. “That was when you and Mom were the closest, right?”
“More or less. The early days were good too, but Mom really liked Fengche Village.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān got out of the car and took the chance to say, “When you finish your project, our family of four will go on vacation.”
Zhōng Yì closed the door. “Okay.”
He had been thinking about how to mention Fengche Village for the wedding without raising any suspicions. He didn’t expect it would be so easy.
Zhōng Yì linked arms with her father as they walked to the cafeteria. “How long did we stay in Fengche Village back then?”
“Two months and a few days.”
“That long?”
“Your mom gave herself a long break.”
Zhōng Yì remembered her father saying that her mother had chosen the wedding location.
Fengche Village held special meaning for her mother, so she thought maybe they should have the wedding there.
***
At the cafeteria, Zhōu Shíyì was waiting for them.
He had arranged for the kitchen to prepare a few dishes early to not interrupt Zhōng Yì’s lunch break.
On the way, after thinking it over, Zhōng Yì voiced her idea: “Dad, why don’t you and Mom have your wedding in Fengche Village?”
Then she looked at Zhōu Shíyì. “What do you think?”
Zhōu Shíyì: “Sounds good. You and Mom both like that place.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān didn’t expect to hit the mark by accident and agreed immediately. “Sure. You and Shíyì can help decorate the venue; it’ll be especially meaningful.”
Zhōng Yì was already looking forward to arranging a warm and romantic wedding with flowers.
Jiāng Jìngyuān planned to hold his and Zhōng Zhuóhuá’s wedding on Hong Kong Island—that was where they had met.
It was just as significant as Fengche Village.
Zhōu Shíyì asked her, “What kind of venue do you want specifically?”
Zhōng Yì had already forgotten what Fengche Village looked like. “Let’s choose the spot where Mom held me for the photo.”
Zhōu Shíyì nodded. “Okay.”
That spot wasn’t chosen for the wedding but was where she had her bachelorette party.
Now that she had a few friends, they’d hold a bachelorette party for her.
Zhōu Shíyì asked again, “Which day do you plan to choose?”
Zhōng Yì looked at Jiāng Jìngyuān. “Dad, you decide.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān: “You’re in charge of the wedding, so of course you choose. Your mom might not like the date I pick.”
“But if I choose, it’ll definitely be a day I like.”
“Then it has to be one you like.”
Zhōng Yì thought seriously. “July 19.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān: “Good, the 19th it is.”
Zhōu Shíyì added, “The night before, we’ll have a bachelorette party. We can’t skip the rituals.”
Zhōng Yì: “Okay, I’ll arrange it.”
“Invite Jì Fánxīng and Yuán as well.”
“…Invite Yuán?”
Inviting Jì Fánxīng was no problem; she and Mom were in the same circle.
But Yuán was her friend, with no usual connection to her mother.
Zhōu Shíyì explained, “Parents at this age mostly have friends who are married with kids, so no suitable bridesmaids. Luckily, Mom really likes Yuán.”
With this reason, Zhōng Yì wouldn’t suspect anything.
At the May 19 wedding, Yuán sat beside the mother-in-law, who stayed with her the entire time, chatting happily.
Zhōng Yì almost forgot to invite bridesmaids.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá valued ceremony and liked lively scenes, so they needed more bridesmaids. “I’ll check with Yuán if she’s free.”
Zhōu Shíyì had already confirmed with Yuán; Zhān Liángzhēng was helping her with her visa.
Zhōng Yì looked at her father worriedly. “Zhōng Jiě looks like she’s only in her early thirties after makeup; if Yuán and Jì Fánxīng are bridesmaids, there won’t be such a big age gap. Dad, what about you?”
Jiāng Jìngyuān laughed helplessly. “Dad isn’t that old, right?”
Zhōng Yì coaxed him happily. “Compared to Zhōng Jiě, there’s some age gap, but you’re definitely not old.”
Zhōu Shíyì chimed in, “Dad, you’re quite young. Didn’t I always call you ‘third uncle’ before?”
“You’re just trying to raise your rank by calling me ‘third uncle.’ Don’t think I don’t know.”
Zhōu Shíyì chuckled.
Regarding the groomsmen and bridesmaids, he didn’t intend to invite anyone.
They wouldn’t repeat the same ceremonies from the last wedding.
Inviting Yuán and Jì Fánxīng was just a cover under the bridesmaid pretense.
Otherwise, inviting her friends to the ‘wedding’ of her parents wouldn’t be appropriate.
The wedding he gave her was meant to fulfill her longstanding wish.