If only they’d once spoken to each other with such calm and care—if their first instinct had been to think of the other—maybe things wouldn’t have ended in a breakup.
The incident with the big screen faded into the background.
Outside the car, the two adults were still deep in conversation, going back and forth. But inside, little Chencheng was getting restless.
She pressed her round cheeks against the window, looking as though she might burst into tears.
“Uncle’s leaving,” she said miserably, tugging at the nanny’s sleeve.
“He’s not leaving,” the nanny reassured her. Before they came to this town, Zhou Sujin had reminded the nannies to give him and his wife some space.
“He’s just asking for directions. Didn’t you want to ride the boat? Uncle’s asking Auntie where we can get on.”
Chencheng nodded eagerly.
“Mhm!”
About ten minutes later, Zhou Shiyi finally remembered that there was still a child waiting in the car.
“Chencheng’s with me—I brought her here for the boat ride.”
Zhong Yi had just been wondering whether she should take the boat to go buy some lucky rice cakes.
She’d hesitated, unsure if two people alone would make for an awkward ride. Now that Chencheng was joining them, the problem was solved.
As soon as the car door opened, Chencheng bounced out like a spring and launched herself into her uncle’s arms.
Zhou Shiyi scooped her up and pointed to Zhong Yi.
“Call her Auntie.”
Chencheng hesitated, then squeaked out, “Gugu!”
Zhou Shiyi: “…”
The word “Auntie” was still a bit too complicated for a toddler’s tongue.
Zhong Yi couldn’t help softening at the sight of that pink, chubby-cheeked face.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Zhou Shiyi glanced over, surprised—he’d never seen her this gentle before.
Chencheng blinked her big eyes at Zhong Yi, gaze flitting from her short hair to the scarf around her neck, then back to the silky bob that framed her face.
“Where do we go for the boat?” Zhou Shiyi asked.
Zhong Yi knew the way like the back of her hand. She’d been coming here since she was a child—could find it blindfolded. She pointed southeast.
“The dock’s near the plaza. About six or seven hundred meters. Cars can’t get through.”
Not far at all. They decided to walk.
Along the way, they passed a bakery. When Zhong Yi found out Chencheng liked bread, she popped inside and bought a warm bag of freshly baked loaves.
“Uncle!” Chencheng suddenly tugged at the strap of her little bag.
Zhou Shiyi thought she didn’t want to carry it and reached out to help her take it off.
But she hugged the bag tightly to her chest and struggled with the zipper, rustling and fumbling until she got it open.
“What are you looking for?”
“Taotao.”
“I didn’t bring you any peaches.”
Chencheng pouted and ignored him.
She dug around in her little bag until her fingers closed around a cherry-shaped hair clip. It looked exactly like the one clipped to her pigtail. She held it out solemnly to Zhong Yi.
“Gugu.”
“For me?”
“Mhm.”
Zhong Yi was surprised and touched.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
Chencheng grinned, her cheeks stuffed with bread.
Zhong Yi immediately clipped the cherry barrette into her hair and teased, “Now I look just like you—aren’t we both so pretty?”
Zhou Shiyi gave the clip a glance. It didn’t match her dress or her usual refined style at all.
Zhong Yi had only worn it to make the child happy, and by the time they reached the dock, she’d completely forgotten it was even in her hair.
The rowboats were lined up neatly along the water. Some of the boatmen were familiar faces—people she’d known since she was a child.
They greeted each other in the local dialect, exchanging a few warm words.
One older boatman grinned kindly at them. He barely spared Zhou Shiyi a glance.
Zhou Shiyi didn’t understand the dialect and had no idea how Zhong Yi had introduced him. But clearly, whatever she said hadn’t left much of an impression.
Once aboard, the boatman reminded them to sit steady.
The oars dipped into the water, parting it with a soft splash, and the little black-roofed boat drifted off into the narrow water alley.
Whitewashed walls and dark-tiled roofs lined both sides of the canal. Green trees cast their reflections in the water.
A soft citrusy scent drifted past Zhou Shiyi’s nose. It came from the person beside him.
She never used to wear perfume like this.
Zhong Yi was playing hide-and-seek with Chencheng. The little girl curled up in Zhou Shiyi’s arms, covering her eyes with both hands.
After a moment, she peeked through her fingers to see if “Gugu” had found her.
Zhong Yi played along.
“Found you!”
Chencheng giggled, squealed, and ducked back into his arms.
They played the game again and again—seven or eight times. Chencheng never got tired of it.
Then, one time, when she peeked again, “Gugu” was gone.
Zhong Yi had leaned to the side, hiding behind Zhou Shiyi. Her nose brushed against the fabric of his shirt.
He felt it clearly—her breath, her movement—but didn’t budge an inch. He let her stay hidden behind him.
“Gugu!” Chencheng called from his shoulder, spotting her in an instant.
“Oh no, Chencheng found me!” Zhong Yi laughed, settling back into her seat with the help of his arm.
When hide-and-seek got boring, Chencheng leaned forward, wanting to bump foreheads.
She used to do the same as a child—her favorite game with her dad had been seeing who could hold the bump the longest.
So the three of them—well, two, really, with Zhou Shiyi in the middle—played a lopsided round of forehead bumping.
Zhong Yi laughed with Chencheng, her chin brushing against Zhou Shiyi’s shoulder now and then.
By the time she realized how close they were, she didn’t pull away.
Somewhere along the way, she had grown used to the subtle woody scent that clung to him—familiar now, even if it hadn’t been before.
When Chencheng finally got tired and plopped down to drink from her water bottle, Zhong Yi straightened up too, instinctively putting some space between herself and Zhou Shiyi.
He turned to glance at her. He hadn’t expected her to be this good with kids.
Her cherry clip had slipped slightly in her hair.
Holding the child with one arm, he reached out with the other to fix her hair and take the barrette off.
Zhong Yi looked at him.
“Thanks.”
He didn’t say anything. Just placed the clip in her palm, his fingers brushing lightly against hers.
A familiar warmth surged back in her chest.
She pulled away in time, turning to look at the riverside houses.
By the time Chencheng finished her water, the boat had docked.
Other than asking what the child liked to eat, she and Zhou Shiyi hadn’t exchanged another word.
The nanny and housekeeper were already waiting at the dock. They carried Chencheng off first.
When Zhong Yi was stepping ashore, Zhou Shiyi offered his hand. She took it, and once she was steady, he let go.
For a second, it felt like the past again.
The rice cake shop was only two minutes away on foot.
The shopkeeper didn’t recognize her but greeted her warmly and asked what flavor she wanted.
Of course—red bean. Always red bean.
Chencheng wasn’t fond of rice cakes. She took one bite and pushed it away, shaking her head like a little drum.
The nanny noticed the two weren’t as distant as she’d expected. Since Chencheng’s mother was returning from a business trip later that afternoon, they decided to take her back to the city early.
Chencheng had originally wanted to ride the boat again, but as soon as she heard Mommy was coming home, she dropped the idea. She waved frantically at the adults.
“Bye-bye! Bye-bye!”
The black SUV pulled away first. Zhou Shiyi watched it go, then turned to Zhong Yi.
“Want to ride again? Just for you.”
She nodded.
Without Chencheng, the return ride was silent, broken only by the rhythmic dip of the oars.
Zhou Shiyi tilted his head. The woman beside him stared quietly at the shore, a far cry from the playful companion she’d been minutes ago.
“I ran into your mom. In Shanghai.”
Zhong Yi was a beat late in responding.
“I thought she was working on a drama—” She caught herself mid-sentence, remembering the boatman was still nearby. “—I mean, working?”
“At a dinner party,” Zhou Shiyi said.
“How was her attitude?”
“Not bad.”
Zhong Yi gave a small nod. His “not bad” probably meant “not great.”
Before they got their marriage license, she had told her mother everything. Her mom had been even more protective than her dad.
But no matter what, as long as Zhong Yi liked someone, her mom would never object too strongly.
“It’s fine,” she reassured him.
“We’re family now.”
Zhou Shiyi handed her a water bottle, already opened.
They didn’t mention her mom again.
He’d known her mother was Zhong Zhuohua—not from the marriage, but from two years ago.
At that moment, Zhong Yi’s phone rang. It was Teacher Yu.
She hadn’t brought a bag today, just her phone and an umbrella. Now, with a box of rice cakes and a cherry hair clip in hand, she was struggling to answer.
“Give it to me,” Zhou Shiyi said. He tapped the screen to pick up the call, then took the cakes and the clip.
“I’m on a boat—heading back now.”
“Isn’t that boring by yourself? Your mentor’s free this morning.”
“Zhou Shiyi’s with me.”
The moment her teacher heard that, his tone changed completely.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier? Bring him to the house! Your dad’s on his way too.”
Zhong Yi lit up.
“Dad’s coming?”
“Said he missed you and wanted to visit. Honestly, these two! Think making dinner is easy?”
Zhong Yi smiled as she quietly listened to Teacher Yu vent about her father.
Just before hanging up, Teacher Yu reminded her again, “Come back early. I’m brewing tea now.”
Back at the art exhibition, Zhou Shiyi had helped host Teacher Yu’s welcome dinner, and later even photographed some of the showcased works.
So the two were already quite familiar with each other.
Zhong Yi locked her phone. Her umbrella and hair clip were still in Zhou Shiyi’s hands. She reached out. “I’ll take those.”
But Zhou Shiyi didn’t hand them over. “It’s fine.”
The hair clip was so small that keeping it in hand made it easy to lose. He lifted the front of his suit jacket and tucked the clip into the inner pocket.
Zhong Yi glanced at that familiar pocket. She had once placed so many things in there—snacks for the road, her phone, lipstick… even condoms, more than once.
He would just smile, helpless yet indulgent, never stopping her no matter what she put inside.
Her thoughts drifted a little too far. By the time she came back to herself, the boat had already docked.
Her father had arrived before them. When she and Zhou Shiyi reached Teacher Yu’s house, a Bentley was already parked out front.
From the courtyard came the familiar sound of someone calling, “Dad!” Jiang Jingyuan responded and stepped out of the house to greet them.
Shanghai wasn’t far from Jiangcheng. He had made a special trip just to see his daughter, planning to head back that very night.
When Old Yu mentioned Zhou Shiyi had also come to town, he hadn’t quite believed it. After all, no one knew better than him why his daughter had broken up with Zhou Shiyi back then.
Zhou Shiyi stepped forward, and Jiang Jingyuan gave his son-in-law a firm pat on the shoulder.
All the unspoken words were carried in that one gesture.
Teacher Yu had already brewed the black tea and invited them in.
Through the teahouse window, the courtyard was a riot of spring colors.
Zhou Shiyi looked out at the lawn and suddenly thought of the painting printed on Zhong Yi’s canvas tote.
When he heard it was Zhou Shiyi’s first time visiting the town, Teacher Yu urged Zhong Yi to take him around in the afternoon.
“Our scenery’s not worse than the city’s—air’s better too,” he said, explaining why he’d chosen to settle here all these years, never once thinking of moving.
Zhou Shiyi replied, “It has more character than the city.”
“Exactly. Even city kids come here just to take wedding photos,” Teacher Yu added with a chuckle. Then, as if something had just occurred to him, he turned to the couple.
“It’s almost April—your wedding’s coming up soon, isn’t it? Haven’t taken your photos yet, have you? Since you’re both here, why not shoot a couple sets?”
“A good photo session will help you two get comfortable with each other. I’ll even find you the photographer.”
Teacher Yu assumed theirs was a typical arranged marriage and that they weren’t all that close yet. His suggestion came from the kindest place.
At the mention of wedding photos, Zhong Yi glanced sideways at the man beside her.
Zhou Shiyi gave Teacher Yu a polite smile and said, “No need. We’ll just use the ones from before.”
Jiang Jingyuan looked shocked.
“You’ve already taken wedding photos?”