Throughout the entire meal, Zhong Yi and Zhou Shiyi didn’t exchange a single word.
No one found it strange. It was an arranged marriage, after all—of course there’d be no real feelings between them. They had barely known each other, and both were naturally reserved.
From time to time, Zhong Yi would turn to her left and make small talk with her older cousin.
At first, Min Ting humored her. But eventually, he saw through it and called her out bluntly:
“You really have that much to say to me?”
Zhong Yi froze.
Caught red-handed trying to save face, she quickly turned her head away and stopped talking to him.
Only when she realized that turning her head had brought her face-to-face with Zhou Shiyi did it hit her—too late. The man had already caught her gaze.
“What did you want to say?” he asked.
It was the first thing either of them had said to each other since sitting down.
Zhong Yi shook her head. Then, as if something occurred to her, she picked up her glass. She couldn’t hold her liquor and avoided alcohol unless absolutely necessary.
Tilting her glass lightly against his, she said, “I never did thank you for getting me the ring.”
“No need. It was only right,” Zhou Shiyi replied, lifting his wine glass and taking the smallest symbolic sip.
Zhong Yi thought to say something more but decided against it.
When the ding sheng gao arrived at the table, she quietly set her glass down and focused on her dessert. She didn’t speak to anyone else after that.
The soft, sweet red bean filling tasted exactly like the ding sheng gao from the southern river town where she grew up.
As a child, whenever she couldn’t finish a painting, she’d throw a tantrum and demand the rice cake.
She was very specific—it had to be from the shop at the northernmost end of town, and they had to ride a wupeng boat to get there.
Her father always indulged her. He’d carry her onto the boat and take her to buy the cakes.
She’d eat half a piece at most, then squish up the rest and stuff it into his mouth.
From south to north, including the wait for the boat, the round trip took hours.
But when they got back to Teacher Yu’s house, she’d cheerfully pack away her canvas and say,
“It’s getting dark, Daddy. Let’s go home. I’ll finish the painting tomorrow. I promise I’ll finish it tomorrow!”
And then she’d say the same thing the next day.
Tonight’s menu didn’t stop at ding sheng gao. There was also vegetarian roast goose and wine-marinated fish—all flavors from her childhood.
The others weren’t too excited about these dishes, so she ended up eating most of them herself.
Without realizing it, she had already finished two pieces of cake and was reaching for a third.
Watching her eat with such satisfaction, Zhou Shiyi asked, “Is this the rice cake you used to talk about?”
The word used to made Zhong Yi’s throat tighten. She forced herself to swallow the bite and murmured, “Mm.”
A flood of old memories surged up, catching her off guard.
She had once told him—more than once—that she’d take him back to her hometown to try the cakes.
“Want to try a piece?” she offered, changing the subject.
But before Zhou Shiyi could respond, Jiang Jingyuan, seated across the table, called out, “Save one for me!”
Clearly, he hadn’t heard their exchange just now.
Only one piece remained on the plate.
Zhou Shiyi gave up his portion for his father-in-law. He turned to Zhong Yi and said, “I’ll try it another time.”
There were probably more in the kitchen. The four pieces on the table were just for presentation. The chef must have made extras.
But no one suggested asking for another plate.
It was just a simple rice cake, not some rare delicacy. Zhong Yi and her father held it dear because of the memories it carried.
To Zhou Shiyi, it held no special meaning—and besides, he’d never cared much for sweets.
After that, the two of them fell silent once again.
Across from them, Ji Fanxing watched the distant newlyweds with growing interest. Strangers who had just met were more talkative than they were.
“Fanxing, what have you been up to lately?” someone finally pulled her attention back.
She sighed, resting her chin in one hand.
“Grounded by my dad. Haven’t done a thing.”
“I’m going to Australia next week for a site visit. Want to come?”
“No thanks. Kuncheng is announcing their new brand ambassador at the end of the month. I’m going to support Lu Cheng.”
“Lu Cheng? That pop idol?”
Fanxing nodded, sipping her wine.
“Kuncheng signed Lu Cheng?”
“Yep. Zhou Shiyi’s first major move as CEO,” she said with a smile.
“Smart decision.”
“Oh? You a fan of Lu Cheng? Planning to go fangirl on him?”
“I like him, sure. But not like that. I’m not trying to date the guy.”
“Listen to yourself—doesn’t that sound contradictory?”
“Forget it. You’re not the kind of person who understands idol culture anyway.”
As the table’s conversation carried on, Zhong Yi quietly turned her head toward the man beside her.
Zhou Shiyi had just taken a towel from the waiter and was calmly wrapping it around a wine bottle.
He poured wine for the guests around him, then reached across her to ask Min Ting, “More?”
“Just half a glass,” Min Ting replied.
“Too much and I’ll stink of wine all the way home.”
Zhou Shiyi didn’t press him, pouring only a modest amount.
Noticing Zhong Yi’s gaze, he finished pouring his own drink, returned the bottle, and waited until the waiter left before turning to her.
“What did you want to ask?”
She spoke just loud enough for only the two of them to hear:
“Was Lu Cheng signed before you became CEO?”
He took a sip of wine.
“No. I signed the contract myself.”
Zhong Yi stared at his profile for a long moment before saying softly, “But didn’t you… used to really mind him?”
He had once accused her of only ever having eyes for Lu Cheng—that she had never truly seen him.
It was the first time they’d fought. Afterward, there had been long, heavy silence.
They tried to move on. Tried to make things work.
For the next six months, they pretended nothing had happened. He stopped bringing up Lu Cheng—or anything from her past.
But some cracks, once formed, only deepen.
Eventually, they grew too tired of walking on eggshells. And so, with regret and resignation, they parted ways.
Neither of them ever looked back.
As her words hung in the air, Zhou Shiyi raised his wineglass to his lips but didn’t drink. Instead, he turned and looked straight at her.
“I did mind,” he said. A half-beat passed.
“But that was then.”
She didn’t know whether that second sentence was for himself—or for her.
He said no more. She quietly picked up her water and drank.
The others were still going on about Lu Cheng. Ji Fanxing, especially, seemed unstoppable when it came to him.
“Lu Cheng’s from the same town as Teacher Yu?”
“That’s right,” Ji Fanxing beamed.
“Such a special place, our little town.”
“No wonder your uncle chose to raise you there,” someone said, glancing at Zhong Yi.
“You must know Lu Cheng too, right?”
Zhong Yi smiled calmly.
“Yes, I know him.”
Someone connected the dots—Kuncheng hiring Lu Cheng, Zhong Yi’s childhood in the same town—and suddenly looked enlightened.
“Ah, so Zhou Shiyi chose him to win you over?”
Jiang Jingyuan quickly cut in to deflect.
“They’re having their wedding in May. We’ll need everyone’s help with the planning.” He raised his glass to toast the table.
“Come on, Third Uncle, you’re too polite!”
Dinner finally ended at 10:30.
Zhong Yi linked arms with her father and walked out last. The moon hung high over the treetops, and the quiet chirping of insects filled the courtyard.
She glanced around the elegant compound.
She had come in with Zhou Shiyi earlier, but must’ve been lost in thought—she hadn’t even noticed the koi pond, the little bridge, or the blooming crabapples by the water.
“What are you looking at?” Jiang Jingyuan gently patted her head.
“The view,” she said.
“I always thought you could only find places like this in the south.”
“There’s plenty to see in Beicheng too. You just never want to go out.”
“I’m just too busy to go out,” she murmured.
Jiang Jingyuan didn’t argue.
“Then once you’re free, let Zhou Shiyi take you around more.”
They walked out of the compound together.
Outside, two cars were waiting. Zhou Shiyi stood by the second, finishing a call. When he saw them, he hung up.
“Want me to drive you?” he asked.
“No need,” Zhong Yi replied.
“I’ll go with my dad.”
She waved him off and headed to the first car.
Jiang Jingyuan stayed behind for a few words with his son-in-law before getting in.
Zhong Yi couldn’t hear them through the closed door and didn’t ask about it once her father got in.
He’d had more to drink than usual—clearly in high spirits. The scent of wine clung to him, and he rolled down the window for air.
Zhong Yi handed him a soda water.
“You should cut back, Dad.”
He smiled and nodded. “Alright.”
She rested her forehead against her hand, studying him.
“You really drank that much because you were happy?”
He chuckled.
“What else?”
Zhong Yi didn’t press.
She hoped that really was the reason.
After drinking half the bottle, Jiang Jingyuan seemed to realize something. That question of hers just now—she’d meant something by it.
Earlier at the table, people had teased him about his first love. Maybe his daughter thought he was drinking to forget the past.
“At my age,” he said, setting the bottle aside, “all I worry about is your grandparents’ health—and your happiness. So many years have passed, I barely remember the rest.”
It was the first time he’d ever mentioned the past in front of her.
Zhong Yi’s emotions were tangled, but she tried to keep her tone light.
“Was it… intense, your first love?”
Jiang Jingyuan nodded.
He had once gone against his entire family for her.
He thought they’d have a future. Thought they’d raise a few children together.
But life changed. People changed.
“Do you regret it?” she asked quietly.
He understood exactly what she meant. He rubbed her head and said, “Never once have I regretted having you. If I had… why would you be my only child?” He paused.
“But your mother never believed that.”
“Then keep trying to convince her,” Zhong Yi said.
He smiled wryly.
“Alright.”
He had tried. For years. It just never worked.
When she got home, she showered and took out the ring from her bag, staring at it for a long time.
Then she picked up her phone and messaged Zhou Shiyi:
【Do I need to buy your wedding ring?】
He replied:
【No need. I already have one.】
A family heirloom, maybe?
She wondered.
Tomorrow she’d be visiting Teacher Yu in Jiangcheng—Lu Cheng’s hometown, too.
After a moment’s hesitation, she decided it was best to let Zhou Shiyi know in advance, just in case he misunderstood.
Zhong Yi:
【I’m going to Jiangcheng tomorrow to see Teacher Yu. He’s back in his hometown.】
Her phone buzzed.
Zhou Shiyi called her directly.
“Do you want me to take you to the airport?” he asked.
“No,” she said clearly.
“I’ll be staying there for a few days. Just thought I should let you know. I haven’t been back since… we broke up.”
She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain that.
Three years.
She hadn’t returned to that town once, always brushing off Teacher Yu with excuses about being too busy.
“It’s where I grew up,” she continued.
“It’s different for me. Teacher Yu isn’t just a mentor—he’s like family. I can’t avoid going back just because of Lu Cheng. If you really want to remember someone… you don’t need to go to a certain place to do it.”
The line went quiet.
“Why’d you stop?” Zhou Shiyi finally asked.
“Because if I keep going, we’ll fight again,” Zhong Yi said, clutching the phone.
“I don’t want to fight with you anymore. And I don’t want to separate again.”
His voice softened.
“Get some rest. Tomorrow I’ll take you to Jiangcheng.”
It wasn’t far from there to her hometown. He wouldn’t go the whole way. He’d have a driver take her the rest.