He offered to take her to Jiangcheng. Zhong Yi didn’t refuse.
He didn’t want to go to the small town. She understood that.
As for the journey itself, neither of them brought it up again. Mentioning it would only make the distance between them harder to ignore.
A once unforgettable love could easily turn into a blade in any new relationship.
“When do you want to fly to Jiangcheng tomorrow?” his voice came through the phone again.
“Noon,” Zhong Yi replied.
“No need to get up too early.”
“I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
With nothing more to say, the call ended.
It was already 11 p.m., and her inbox was still overflowing with unread emails.
Taking over Kuncheng Auto at this point in time wasn’t the wisest move, but her cousin Zhou Sujin was finally free from it all.
Back in his study, Zhou Shiyi stared at his laptop screen, set a five-minute timer on his phone, and leaned back, giving himself exactly that much time to clear his head.
In the years since their breakup, it wasn’t like he hadn’t met someone suitable.
His family had urged him to settle down too. With his sense of responsibility, even a marriage without love wouldn’t be a disaster.
But every time he imagined a lifetime spent with someone who wasn’t her, caring for someone else, protecting someone else, the idea of marriage lost all meaning.
And just like that, three years had passed.
His phone buzzed. The five minutes were over.
Zhou Shiyi dismissed the timer and returned to work.
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Zhong Yi gently placed the ring back into its velvet box. She was heading to the town tomorrow, and her suitcase wasn’t even packed yet.
Just as she stood up, her father texted her:
Jiang Jingyuan: “Have you gone to bed yet?”
Zhong Yi: “Not yet. Haven’t even packed my luggage 😩”
Zhong Yi: “What’s up?”
Jiang Jingyuan: “Ji Fanxing prepared a wedding gift for you. I almost forgot—it’s in the car. I’ll bring it up now.”
Ji Fanxing had gone all out, choosing nineteen new silk scarves, symbolic of long-lasting love.
Zhong Yi laid them out on the bed. Every single pattern was perfectly tailored to her taste.
“Dad,” she asked, “Did you tell Ji Fanxing I like silk scarves?”
Jiang Jingyuan’s eyes were drawn to the velvet box on the table.
“I didn’t. I didn’t even know what it was until you opened it.”
Zhong Yi couldn’t help thinking of Zhou Shiyi. Otherwise, how would Ji Fanxing have known her preferences so well?
“Is that your wedding ring? Can I see it?”
“Of course. It’s not like it’s some priceless treasure.”
She carefully took it out.
“Why’d you choose such a tiny diamond?”
“Something dainty and elegant.”
She held it up.
“Haven’t seen a rich person wear a diamond this small, have you? Consider your eyes opened.”
Jiang Jingyuan laughed and tousled her hair.
“You asking for a smack?”
Zhong Yi slipped the ring onto her finger and admired it.
“It’s not that small. I think it’s perfect.”
Her father frowned deeper the more he looked.
“You’re really going to wear this at the wedding? Your mother’s not going to talk to me for the rest of her life.”
“I picked it myself. Mom won’t blame you.”
“She’ll say I have terrible taste in sons-in-law.”
He hesitated.
“Keep this one for daily wear. Get a bigger one for the ceremony.” Then, more quietly, “Your mom hasn’t really wanted to see me in months.”
Zhong Yi didn’t reply. She knew he wasn’t joking. Her parents’ relationship had long been rocky.
After thinking about it all night, she decided—she’d ask Zhou Shiyi for another ring.
The next morning, her alarm woke her up. She got ready with the same fresh, understated makeup as the day before, and rolled her suitcase to the elevator.
In the living room, beside the couch, was a familiar black suitcase—her father’s go-to for business trips.
“Dad?”
“Hmm?” Jiang Jingyuan looked up from the dining room.
“Are you going on a trip?”
“Yeah.” He wiped his hands with a damp towel.
“Going to see your mom too. She caught a cold a few days ago.”
Zhong Yi thought to herself: no way that’s just a coincidence.
She scooped up a bite of soft-boiled egg, swallowed slowly.
“Dad,” she warned, “If you’re going to see Mom, you’d better be ready for her questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“She’ll ask if you’re visiting because you care about her… or just fulfilling your duty as a husband.”
He took the rest of her untouched truffle egg and started eating.
“That does sound like something your mom would say.”
“Of course. I came out of her womb. We’re connected—I know exactly what she’s thinking.”
Jiang Jingyuan sipped his coffee.
“Then guess what I’m thinking.”
“No clue.”
“Didn’t even try. You used to say we were heart-to-heart.”
Zhong Yi laughed.
“Dad! Why are you bringing that up?”
Not wanting to bring her mood down, he changed the subject. He sprinkled some berries and nuts over her oatmeal and slid the bowl toward her.
“Eat this.”
She hadn’t even finished her red bean date cake, so she set the oatmeal aside for now.
“Are you staying in Jiangcheng overnight?” he asked.
“No. I’m going straight to Ms. Yu’s place.”
Given how things were between her and Zhou Shiyi, there was no point wasting time in the city. They wouldn’t go on a date or anything. She’d rather enjoy good food and quiet at Ms. Yu’s home.
Just then, her father’s gaze shifted to the window.
Zhong Yi turned around. A black Maybach had pulled into the driveway.
Zhou Shiyi stepped out and walked straight into the villa. It wasn’t his first visit—he knew the layout well. The last time he’d come was months ago, dropping off a document for her father.
Back then, marriage wasn’t even on the table, and he’d only stayed about thirty minutes. He hadn’t seen Zhong Yi then.
Now, he stepped through the front door.
Zhong Yi, unable to see him through the window anymore, looked away.
“Dad,” Zhou Shiyi greeted her father first.
“Had breakfast yet?” Jiang Jingyuan offered.
Zhou Shiyi rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands, and sat beside Zhong Yi.
The dining table, once empty, now seemed filled with his cold, imposing presence.
Only her father and Zhou Shiyi spoke. Zhong Yi quietly focused on eating, never saying a word.
“You’re going to Jiangcheng too?” he asked Jiang Jingyuan.
The second suitcase in the living room had his father-in-law’s blazer draped over it.
“No. I’m heading to Shanghai to check on your mother-in-law.”
Zhou Shiyi nodded. He had a banquet in Shanghai tomorrow evening anyway—a gathering of business, art, and entertainment elites.
But he didn’t say more about her mother. He knew who she was, but had never met her.
Then Jiang Jingyuan asked, “You’re heading to Jiangcheng with Zhong Yi for work?”
“No. Just taking her there.”
He could’ve dodged the question, but he didn’t bother.
“Want some oatmeal?” Zhong Yi offered him the untouched bowl, now topped with berries and nuts.
“You eat it.” He slid it back to her and added, “I don’t eat nuts.”
She blinked. Right—he didn’t like nuts in oatmeal. He’d eat them on their own, but not in porridge.
In three years, she’d forgotten some of his little habits. Just like he probably no longer remembered she needed two servings of pan-seared bass to feel satisfied.
She stirred the oatmeal and ate it herself.
On the way to the airport, Zhong Yi broke the silence first.
“What else don’t you eat? Let’s see if I remember.”
Zhou Shiyi had been watching the passing street scenes. He turned to her.
“You never had a good memory, did you?”
“Even if I did… some things fade over time.” She wasn’t trying to start a fight. Just stating a fact.
“You don’t remember about the bass either.”
They stared at each other.
After a while, he said, “I didn’t forget.”
Just those three words. Nothing more.
Zhong Yi blinked. He hadn’t explained himself the other day either—just stayed silent. Maybe he didn’t want to come across as too soft.
Even though they were now legally married, the past still lingered like a shadow. Neither of them wanted to be the one to lower their guard first.
But it was true—she’d forgotten about the nuts.
Zhou Shiyi kept looking at her profile.
Zhong Yi tried to ease the mood.
“Still going to Jiangcheng with me?”
He didn’t answer. Just leaned back in his seat and looked at her silently.
He’d never seen her try so hard to bridge the gap between them.
Zhong Yi turned away and sat up straight.
Zhou Shiyi realized he might’ve been a bit cold. She’d only forgotten a few things. The past was the past. They’d agreed to treat each other calmly moving forward.
He opened a bottle of water and handed it to her.
“Sorry.”
Zhong Yi didn’t act proud like she used to. She took the bottle from him.
“When did you cut your hair short?” he asked.
“A while ago,” she replied.
Then, worried she sounded curt, she added, “Almost three years.”
Three years. A sensitive time marker.
They had broken up exactly three years ago today.
But now, with the marriage license signed yesterday, the date no longer hurt as much.
Zhong Yi sipped her water slowly. He said nothing more.
Since reuniting, the two things they did most often were drinking water—and staying silent.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk. It was just… after so long apart, there wasn’t much left to say.
Zhou Shiyi’s phone rang. It was his assistant, Zhan Liang, calling to report progress on the Jinghe Group collaboration.
The contract had been finalized. Jinghe had confirmed that Ning Que would lead the project.
Any other time, it would’ve been a cause for celebration. But Zhou Shiyi barely reacted.
“Got it,” he said coolly.
“I won’t be in Beicheng for the next few days. For anything related to the new car launch, report directly to Vice President Du.”
“…Got it.” Zhan Liang paused.
The boss was clearly on a personal trip.
Du was already pulling his hair out—turns out the boss was even harder to deal with than the clients.
After the call, Zhou Shiyi turned to her.
“You passed on the Kuncheng Auto project?”
Zhong Yi met his eyes—deep, cold, unreadable—and nodded calmly.
“Was it because you weren’t interested… or because you’re still mad at me?”
She didn’t answer. Just kept her gaze steady.
“Zhong Yi,” he said, his voice low, “You got together with me back then because I was ‘suitable.’ I met every requirement on your boyfriend checklist.”
“You broke up with me too—so why are you the one still resentful? If anyone should feel wronged, isn’t it me?”
“But I fell in love with you, didn’t I?” Her voice wavered slightly.
“I brought up the breakup. But what else could I have done at the time? My parents are the living proof—splitting up, getting back together, but always wounded. I grew up tiptoeing around it.”
She went quiet for a long moment.
“These past three years apart… I’ve been miserable too.”
Her emotions surged. After that, she turned completely away, staring out the car window on her side.
And for as long as she stared outside, Zhou Shiyi kept staring at her.