Zhong Yi was completely out of it, only vaguely aware of the man murmuring beside her. She didn’t catch a word of what he said.
Soon, the car pulled up in front of a café. Zhou Shiyi got out. For a second, she stared blankly, then suddenly realized what he might be doing.
Moments later, he returned with a coffee in hand. Dressed in a sharp, dark suit, exuding quiet authority, he drew more than a few lingering glances from passersby.
He slid back into the car, shutting the door behind him and sealing out the city’s noise.
He held out the coffee to her.
“Latte.”
Zhong Yi kept her hands folded over her purse and didn’t reach for it.
“Thanks, but I don’t drink coffee. You have it.”
He didn’t withdraw the cup. It hovered over the armrest as he said, calmly, “I haven’t made one in three years—guess I’m rusty. And I didn’t have any sweet red beans at home.”
As he spoke, he peeled back the cup’s lid.
Immediately, the warm, rich aroma of coffee laced with sweetness enveloped the car.
Zhong Yi turned her head, caught off guard by the familiar smell.
Without another word, Zhou Shiyi gently nudged the cup toward her again.
For some reason, Zhong Yi suddenly remembered how he used to be during their fights—never one for too many words, but always the first to pull her into his arms, coaxing her softly until she calmed down.
Those memories came in flashes, some vivid, some hazy.
She lifted her hand and silently took the coffee from him.
She forgot to take the lid, so he kept holding it for her.
Zhong Yi turned back to the window, watching the scenery slowly retreat as the car moved. Occasionally, she took a small sip of the latte.
Back when they were dating, Zhou Shiyi had no idea about her family background. He assumed she’d grown up in a modest little town in Jiangcheng.
Their worlds were vastly different, so he always tried to lower himself to meet her halfway—indulging her every whim, giving in without complaint.
Because of the café stop, they arrived at the courtyard restaurant a bit late. The private room was already lively, and even at the door, Zhong Yi could hear Ji Fanxing’s crisp laughter.
Tonight’s dinner had been arranged by Jiang Yanfeng. Following Third Uncle’s instructions, he’d invited over a dozen people to make things festive.
No one here really knew Zhong Yi. So when she and Zhou Shiyi entered—him slightly behind her—no one made a fuss about her.
All the teasing went straight to him, asking what it felt like to be a married man.
Zhou Shiyi, naturally, didn’t respond. He acted like he hadn’t heard a thing.
Ji Fanxing raised her glass and beamed at Zhong Yi.
“Congratulations. Looking forward to the wedding in May.”
Zhong Yi gave a small smile.
“Thank you.”
Seating was casual tonight, no formal arrangements. She didn’t sit next to her father, choosing instead an empty seat beside her cousin.
Jiang Jingyuan chuckled, his tone doting as always.
“Why didn’t you come sit with your dad?”
That “dad” landed like a bolt of lightning—everyone went still, stunned into silence.
“Third Uncle, that’s a joke, right?”
“I’m not joking,” Jiang Jingyuan said mildly.
“Let me introduce you all. This is my daughter—Zhong Yi.”
Ji Fanxing nearly dropped her wineglass. Her eyes darted between Jiang Jingyuan and Zhong Yi, completely thrown off.
Her normally sharp mind felt like it had been dunked in glue—nothing connected.
At the card table, the game came to a screeching halt. Someone tossed down their hand and everyone crowded over.
This group usually didn’t gossip. But tonight?
All bets were off.
Zhong Yi calmly endured their curious stares.
She turned to her father.
“Any seat’s the same. Besides, I had something to talk to my cousin about.”
From entering to sitting down, it had only been thirty seconds. But under those dozen scrutinizing gazes, it felt like half an hour.
Zhou Shiyi took off his suit jacket and handed it to a waiter. Only two empty seats remained: one next to his future father-in-law, the other beside Zhong Yi.
He walked directly to Jiang Jingyuan’s side and sat down.
A glass of wine waited in front of him. He picked it up and said, “Dad, thank you for all your help lately.”
Jiang Jingyuan raised his glass and clinked it against Zhou’s.
“We’re family. No need to say thank you.” But his smile lingered in his eyes.
It was only then that the rest of the room recovered.
“I knew something was up! No wonder Third Uncle insisted on setting up that matchmaking thing for Zhou Shiyi!”
“Forget the wine, Third Uncle—spill the tea! We want the whole backstory!”
The man who’d been single for decades suddenly had a daughter?
And she didn’t even carry his surname. The only explanation: Zhong Yi had just been publicly acknowledged.
Jiang Jingyuan downed the wine Zhou offered and said with a faint smile, “Not much of a story. Xiao Yi was born premature and was sickly growing up. I raised her in Teacher Yu’s hometown.”
“We rarely came back to the city, so it makes sense you’ve never met her.”
He brushed off over twenty years like it was nothing.
“Wait… so she wasn’t just recognized recently?” Ji Fanxing asked, already downing her second glass, still shocked.
Everyone knew how devoted Jiang Jingyuan had been to his first love. Suitors had come and gone, but he’d stayed single all these years. And now—a daughter this grown?
Someone joked, “Third Uncle, this is confession night, right? How many kids you got hidden away? Zhong Yi got a sister? I wouldn’t mind becoming your son-in-law too!”
Laughter erupted around the table.
Jiang Jingyuan chuckled.
“It’s not that I won’t give you a chance. I just only have one daughter—and she’s my treasure.”
Naturally, everyone was curious about Zhong Yi’s mother. Ji Fanxing, especially, seized the moment while Third Uncle was in a good mood.
“Third Uncle, we grew up hearing your legendary love stories. You even skipped your engagement party back then—iconic!”
“Now that your daughter’s here, can we finally hear the real love story with your first crush?”
Zhong Yi quietly sipped her water. Her mother… was not the woman in that story.
Jiang Jingyuan’s expression didn’t change. He smiled faintly and said, “There’s no epic romance to tell. Xiao Yi’s mother isn’t the one from those stories.” He paused.
“Still want to hear it? I can tell it if you’d like.”
Ji Fanxing’s brain short-circuited for a second. She’s not the first love?
But based on Zhong Yi’s age, she was clearly born during those years he was at odds with the family—because of that very first love.
Realizing she was overstepping, she quickly waved her hands.
“Forget that! I’m more curious about you and Third Aunt now. Tell me that story instead!”
Jiang Jingyuan smiled warmly.
“Of course. Come over for dinner sometime. Xiao Yi’s on break right now and getting bored.”
The topic shifted smoothly.
Ji Fanxing commented on Zhong Yi’s appearance.
“She doesn’t look exactly like you—more like Aunt Min. Definitely takes after her aunt.”
Zhong Yi nodded.
“Yes, I take after my aunt the most.”
She and her cousin Min Ting did look a bit alike. But unless they were side by side, most people wouldn’t notice.
Ji Fanxing recalled something.
“I saw you repost a news piece about Jinghe the other day. You said you were a coder, so I looked you up—turns out you work at Jinghe?”
“I was shocked! I even thought Min Ting must’ve headhunted you himself. Never guessed you two were related.”
Zhong Yi smiled, but didn’t explain.
Technically, Min Ting had flown overseas to recruit her.
After her breakup with Zhou Shiyi, she’d crossed Beicheng off her list of places to work. But in the end… she still came back.
“Speaking of Min Ting—he’s the only one not here.”
“I’ll text him,” Zhou Shiyi offered, pulling out his phone.
“No need,” someone cut in.
“He’s a grown man. He won’t get lost. Let’s talk about you. How’s it feel being Third Uncle’s son-in-law?”
“Shouldn’t we be asking how it feels to be Jiang Yanfeng’s brother-in-law instead?” someone added, cackling.
Ji Fanxing laughed the loudest—absolutely delighted. But she reined it in quickly, hiding her grin behind her wineglass. After all, Zhou Shiyi had played matchmaker for her and Lu Cheng.
Jiang Yanfeng was impeccable in every way—but notoriously uptight.
Just as the laughter died down, the private room’s door opened. Min Ting finally arrived, last one in.
He made a beeline for the empty seat beside his cousin.
“Why aren’t you two sitting together?”
He meant her and Zhou Shiyi.
Zhong Yi replied, “No idea.” She tilted her chin toward Zhou.
“Ask him.”
Jiang Yanfeng leaned over and muttered, “I’ll ask.”
He reached for his phone.
Zhong Yi quickly slapped his hand down.
“Kidding! Don’t take it seriously.”
As if she’d really text Zhou Shiyi: Why didn’t you sit next to me?
She let go of her cousin’s wrist and stood, pulling her chair half a meter back. Now she sat equidistant from her cousins—easier for the three of them to chat quietly, away from the main table’s chaos.
“Have you picked a maid of honor yet?” Min Ting asked.
The question stumped her. She didn’t have close friends.
Among the women of her generation in the family, it was just her and her older cousin—who’d just had a baby last month and was still in confinement, so she hadn’t come tonight.
Jiang Yanfeng offered, “What about Ji Fanxing?”
Zhong Yi hesitated.
“We’re not close. Met two, maybe three times.”
“There’s still two months till the wedding. Plenty of time to get to know each other. Third Uncle invited her tonight for that reason—to give you a chance to make a new friend.”
Zhong Yi thought about it. Ji Fanxing might be her only real option.
Their phones buzzed all at once.
It was a message from Grandpa in the family group chat, tagging her:
[@ZhongYi] Registering the marriage is more important than the wedding. When are you free?
Come home for a celebratory meal.
Min Ting replied for her: [Already celebrating.]
Zhong Yi: …
A perfectly timed jab.
On the other end, Old Master Jiang was so exasperated he didn’t know what to say. But it was her big day, so he held back the scolding.
Zhong Yi smoothed it over:
Grandpa, I’ll come visit you and Grandma in a few days.
[Good, good. Don’t overwork yourself.]
She locked her phone and, from the corner of her eye, glanced in her father’s direction.
It was quick—too quick to see what the person beside him was doing.
Jiang Yanfeng asked, “When are you visiting Grandpa? Take me with you.”
“Sure. I’m seeing Teacher Yu tomorrow. After that, I’ll head to Grandpa’s.”
“He’s in his hometown?”
“Yeah. Said he’s shutting himself away to focus on writing.”
“Guess Third Uncle rattled him,” Jiang Yanfeng said.
“He said Teacher Yu’s talent had dried up—”
He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he raised his wineglass and gestured over her shoulder in a silent toast.
Zhong Yi turned. Zhou Shiyi was suddenly behind her chair.
He downed the wine in one gulp, Adam’s apple bobbing, then nodded to Jiang Yanfeng.
“Switch seats with me.”
Without hesitation, her cousin grabbed his wineglass and stood up.
As he walked away, Zhou Shiyi took the empty seat right beside her.