From the sarcasm in his wife’s voice, Jiang Jingyuan could tell she had quite a few opinions about their son-in-law. He hadn’t been present when they saw each other earlier that evening, so he could only guess what had happened.
As he slid into his son-in-law’s car, he tested the waters. “You and your mother-in-law didn’t have any unpleasant conversations, did you?”
Zhou Shiyi looked confused. “Not at all. Why?”
“Nothing, then.”
But Zhou Shiyi knew Jiang Jingyuan well enough to know he wouldn’t ask that out of nowhere. They must’ve talked about him earlier. “Is Mom not too happy with me? I kind of felt that during the banquet.”
Jiang Jingyuan was blunt. “Well, thanks to you, I got caught in the crossfire.”
It wasn’t that serious. But facing his father-in-law, Zhou Shiyi wasn’t about to explain himself.
To make amends, he opened a bottle of vintage red wine once they were home.
Handing a glass to Jiang Jingyuan, he said, “Dad, sorry for putting you in a tough spot tonight.”
Before he could raise his glass for a toast, Jiang Jingyuan lightly tapped his against Zhou’s first. “Don’t worry about it. Your mother-in-law hasn’t really wanted to see me lately anyway. She just found an excuse tonight.”
The wine was rich and smooth. Jiang Jingyuan took a long sip and said with meaning, “Just make sure you behave well in front of her from now on. Don’t drag me down again.”
Zhou Shiyi smiled. “I won’t.”
They clinked glasses again.
The two sat out on the terrace. The lights from both sides of the river sparkled in the water’s reflection.
Each lost in their own thoughts, they sipped in silence.
Zhou Shiyi sat back on the couch, legs casually crossed, eyes drifting across the river. Half his wine was gone before he even noticed.
He didn’t know what to talk about with Jiang Jingyuan. Back when he’d called him Third Brother, things were easy—nothing was off-limits. Then he’d started calling him Third Uncle, and he’d grown more cautious. And ever since he started calling him Dad, every word came with a filter.
“When do you and Mom plan to go public?” he asked.
“We won’t make an announcement,” Jiang said. “But we’re not hiding either. If someone catches us, so be it. Let it happen naturally.”
He took another sip. “Zhong Yi’s old enough now. She can handle the public’s judgment. You know how it’s been for your mother-in-law—she’s always been controversial.”
Put nicely, it was ‘controversial.’ Less nicely? She had a lot of dirt online.
To protect their daughter, his wife hadn’t wanted to go public. She didn’t want Zhong Yi subjected to gossip while she was still young.
Of course, it wasn’t only about Zhong Yi. The delay also had to do with the complicated emotional history between him and Zhong Zhuohua.
After breaking up with his first love, she’d once come to him—not for love, but to ask a favor. She loved art and music, and during a field trip, she’d come across several kids with congenital heart disease. Their families couldn’t afford proper treatment, and the local hospitals lacked the resources. After she returned to Beicheng, she came straight to his company.
After explaining the situation, she only asked, “How’s the company doing these years?”
He said, “Still running well.”
“Good.” That was it. Three sentences. Then she left.
She trusted him to handle it, and never followed up.
Five years later, he saw her name again—on the donor list of the Tongxin Charity Foundation. By then, she had enough money to give a sizable donation.
After that year, she never donated to Tongxin again. Instead, she gave to another charity.
He’d told his wife, “We haven’t spoken at all since that day.”
She had stayed quiet a long time before replying, “I don’t blame you. No one does. It’s just… you two were a shame.”
Then she fell silent again.
Finally, she said, “I just got tired all of a sudden.”
She left to shoot a film the next day. If not for missing their daughter, she might never have come back.
“You’re the first person besides me and Zhong Yi who’s ever met your mother-in-law,” Jiang said.
Zhou Shiyi was surprised. “Even after you two got married, she didn’t meet the rest of the family?”
“Nope.” Jiang set down his empty glass.
Leaning his head on his hand, he sighed. “Not just your mother-in-law—Zhong Yi barely visits the old house. My father’s temper…” He trailed off. “Anyway, let’s not dwell on that. How’s it been with Zhong Yi? I imagine a marriage without love hasn’t been as hard as you thought, right?”
Jiang Jingyuan kept pretending he didn’t know about their past.
Since his father-in-law had asked directly, Zhou Shiyi couldn’t lie. “Dad, we actually dated for four years. Broke up three years ago. So no, it wasn’t a loveless arrangement.”
“Well, that’s very honest of you.”
“You… knew?”
“Of course.” The way he drew out the last word carried a trace of resignation.
Jiang Jingyuan wanted to ask if his son-in-law resented Lu Cheng—like how his wife resented his first love—even though nothing had ever happened between them afterward.
But the words stuck in his throat. Only after a few more sips of wine did he finally manage, “What do you think of Lu Cheng?”
“You mean his relationship with Zhong Yi?” Zhou Shiyi paused for two seconds. “They were a shame.”
That stunned Jiang. It was exactly what his wife had said all those years ago.
Zhou tried to comfort him. “I’m fine. It’s all in the past.”
He raised his glass for a toast, only to realize Jiang’s was empty. “Another half glass, Dad?”
Jiang waved it off. “One’s enough. Zhong Yi won’t let me drink more.”
“I’ll get some water.” Zhou set down his wine and stood.
No sooner had he left the terrace than Jiang’s phone buzzed.
Zhong Yi: Dad, are you asleep?
Jiang Jingyuan: Not yet.
Zhong Yi: Can we video call?
Jiang: Sure.
Her invitation popped up right away.
Bundled in a blanket on the couch, hair tousled from sleep, Zhong Yi looked nothing like her usual polished self.
The small town had no nightlife. It had rained all day. After dinner and some idle chatter with her mentor’s wife, she had gone to bed early. Woke up at eleven.
Curious how her parents were getting along, she decided to call.
Seeing her dad’s face, she grinned and waved. “Where’s Mom?”
Jiang faked jealousy. “Weren’t you calling me? Why ask for your mom right away?”
“I miss both of you!” she cooed, then asked again, “Where’s Mom?”
Recognizing the terrace from the background—though the sofa color was off—she narrowed her eyes.
“Your mom’s got a night shoot. I’m at Zhou Shiyi’s place.”
Zhong Yi went silent.
“He’s not out here,” her father added.
“Oh.”
“Did your mom forgive me yet?” he asked.
“No.”
A daughter knows her mother best. Zhong Yi instantly understood why her father wasn’t home. “She didn’t let you stay?”
Jiang gave a helpless smile. That said it all.
“I told you to think through what you were going to say.”
“She didn’t ask.” Not whether he came out of love, duty, or both.
He changed the subject. “What did Mrs. Yu cook for you?”
“Oh, so much,” Zhong Yi said cheerfully. “Last night, she made braised bamboo shoots, stir-fried fava beans, Dongpo pork, shrimp with Dragon Well tea, and fish head soup. Today she taught me how to make ding sheng gao. We spent all afternoon baking. For dinner, she made yellow croaker noodles. I had two bowls. Too many tiny bones, though—almost got one stuck again.”
Jiang’s brow furrowed. “When did that happen?”
“The day I visited your office. But I went to the hospital right away and got it out. Didn’t suffer.”
Just then, a figure passed by the camera—dark shirt.
To Jiang, that fishbone might as well have been stuck in his throat.
“If it happens again,” he said gently, “call me. I’ll go to the hospital with you.”
“Dad, could you maybe not jinx me?”
“Sorry. I got a little carried away.”
He turned to Zhou. “Want to say a few words to Zhong Yi?”
Zhou Shiyi took the phone.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Jiang left the terrace to give them privacy.
It had been three years since they last video called. Zhong Yi had almost forgotten how she used to tease him over video. Even now, through a screen, she struggled to hold his gaze.
Wind rose outside. Rain lashed the windows.
Just as she was about to falter, she looked away.
Zhou Shiyi opened his mouth to speak, but she turned her head, eyes elsewhere.
She didn’t look at the camera. Didn’t speak.
He waited for her to turn back before finally saying, “Aside from the day we got our marriage certificate—when you dared look me in the eye because we were far apart—you haven’t looked at me since. It makes me think you’re hiding something.”
Since when had she been the one to feel guilty?
But maybe… maybe since they reunited, he had always looked at her so openly, so earnestly, sometimes for too long.
She couldn’t very well admit that his gaze still made her heart race.
“I’ve got nothing to feel guilty about,” she said calmly.
“If you say so,” he said. “But one month, you were telling me how deeply you loved me. The next, you were breaking up. If the feelings were that deep, why did you leave?”
Zhong Yi met his shadowed gaze. He still hadn’t let the breakup go.
Maybe that sip of water earlier had been to hold back. But now, he couldn’t help himself—he was digging it all back up.
She knew he didn’t want an explanation. Words were cheap. He wanted her to reach out.
So she said, “From now on, call me every day.”
Sure enough, his expression softened.
He gave a cool “Mm.”
“When are you coming to Jiangcheng?” she asked.
His eyes flicked to her short hair, then back to her face. “Want me to pick you up early?”
“I was just asking. I kind of want to stay at Mrs. Yu’s a bit longer.”
“I’ll come tomorrow. I’ve got some errands to run in the city anyway. You stay put and don’t rush.”
She nodded.
Silence again.
Zhou put down his water, picked up his wine—stopped just as it touched his lips. “Was the fishbone serious?”
She shook her head. “Not really. Didn’t hurt after they took it out.”
“I told you before—yellow croaker has too many bones. Be careful.”
Zhong Yi’s chest clenched.
Some memories just knew when to sneak in.
Just then, Jiang got an international call.
“Dad’s got a call. I’ll take the phone to him.”
She’d nearly forgotten—they were using his phone.
Zhou told her to rest early, then ended the call.
Silence flooded the room.
Outside, the rain came harder.
And all of a sudden, she missed Zhou Shiyi terribly.
The next day, Zhou Shiyi entered the fingerprint of the door lock for Jiang Jingyuan and asked his father-in-law to stay as long as he wanted.
His flight landed in Jiangcheng in the afternoon. When he arrived in the city, he asked the driver to go directly to his cousin’s house.
His cousin’s wife was away on a business trip recently, and only his cousin and his little niece were at home.
It was the weekend. When Zhou Shiyi arrived, his cousin was playing the piano with his daughter.
As soon as she heard her uncle had come, little Chenchen wriggled out of her father’s arms.
Children love excitement—anytime someone visits, the house becomes lively.
Chenchen, barefoot, bounced her way into the living room.
Zhou Shiyi picked up his niece, who wasn’t even a year and a half old yet. “Still remember me?”
Chenchen giggled and nodded vigorously.
Whether she remembered or not—nodding first was always a safe bet.
“Say uncle.” Zhou Shiyi teased her. Last time they met, Chenchen could only say “mama” and “papa.”
“Uncle!”
“You can say it now?”
“Mhm!”
That “mhm” wasn’t flat or casual—it was full of pride.
Zhou Sujin walked out of the music room.
“What brings you to Jiangcheng?”
“Here for some business. And waiting to pick up Zhong Yi,” Zhou Shiyi replied, setting Chenchen down and unwrapping the toy he’d brought.
“Zhong Yi’s in Jiangcheng?” Zhou Sujin asked. Then he realized, “She’s at Professor Yu’s house?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, perfect timing. Take Chenchen to town with you—she loves boat rides and water. And with her there, it won’t feel awkward between you and Zhong Yi.”
There was a brief silence.
Zhou Shiyi said, “I’m not going over. I’ll wait for her in the city.”