Zhōu Shíyì replied: 【Convenient.】
He still didn’t know how to cook. He had been too busy lately to care about such small matters.
But if she wanted to drink it, whether he knew how or not, he had to fulfill her wish.
There were no Honey Red Beans at home yet, and preparing the ingredients would take some time. If they ate out first and then rushed back home, it would be too late.
Zhōu Shíyì: 【Eat at home tonight?】
He added: 【Or if you want anything else, I’ll have the restaurant deliver it.】
Zhōng Yì: 【I want Cantonese food.】
Zhōu Shíyì: 【Sure.】
Today, he surprisingly left the company on time.
Returning home, the butler and the housekeeper were quite surprised.
Zhōu Shíyì straightforwardly said he was back to make coffee and told the housekeeper to prepare the Honey Red Beans.
He pulled out those few fridge magnets from his gray suit pocket and stuck them directly onto the refrigerator, then casually draped his suit jacket over the high stool by the Central Island Counter.
Rolling up his shirt sleeves, he headed to the cooking area.
The housekeeper asked how much honey to put in.
Zhōu Shíyì: “Add a few more spoons.”
She loved sweet food, especially Honey Red Beans—she wished it was sweet enough to make her throat ache.
Once, when he added too little, she had curled up in his arms, refusing to let it go.
He hadn’t touched the coffee machine in years, but by the fifth espresso shot, he gradually regained his touch.
Just as the candied Honey Red Beans were ready, a white sedan pulled into the yard.
Zhōu Shíyì didn’t lift his eyes to look at the visitor, instead adding Honey Red Beans into the coffee cup: “Did you start the GPS?”
“…Yes.”
Zhōng Yì couldn’t lie.
After all, this was only her third time here; it was understandable she wasn’t yet familiar with the route.
Zhōu Shíyì placed a long spoon in the cup and handed it to her.
Half a cup of Honey Red Beans was added, topped with a thick layer of milk foam, just like before.
“Thank you.” Zhōng Yì was finally satisfied, taking it from his hand.
Zhōu Shíyì handed the counter over to the housekeeper to clean up, but she naturally wouldn’t tidy up now—she would only get in the way of the young couple’s conversation.
After taking off her apron, she went to water the flowers in the yard.
After washing his hands, Zhōu Shíyì opened his laptop and sat down by the Central Island Counter.
Though he left work on time, there was still a pile of unfinished business.
He usually worked overtime only in his study, but since the person beside him refused to go upstairs, he had to temporarily use the Central Island Counter as a desk.
The floor-to-ceiling French lattice windows faced the garden in the yard.
In the large kitchen, there were only the two of them—quieter than the study.
Zhōng Yì leaned against the Central Island Counter, about two or three fists away from him.
She scooped a spoonful of Honey Red Beans, the sweetness fragrant on her tongue.
Zhōu Shíyì replied to emails while asking, “How does it taste compared to before?”
“The same.”
“Are you satisfied this time?”
Zhōng Yì tilted her head and looked at him, answering evasively: “You can make it for me often from now on.”
Zhōu Shíyì focused on the computer screen and simply replied, “Mm.”
Afterwards, she quietly sipped her coffee without disturbing his work.
The only difference from before their breakup was that she used to lean on him.
After finishing the cup of red bean latte, her worries faded somewhat.
The ordered meal hadn’t arrived yet. Rarely relaxed, Zhōng Yì gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window at the garden.
The sunset’s afterglow spread across the yard. The housekeeper was watering the flowers, and Zhōng Yì couldn’t help but think again of the hydrangeas outside their Boston home.
Her gaze shifted back from the garden and accidentally paused on the fridge.
Her few fridge magnets had been placed on it by him.
This was the first item of hers in their marital home.
She was about to live here long-term, but hadn’t started packing her things yet.
Zhōu Shíyì remained focused on his emails. When he turned his head, he noticed her coffee cup was already empty.
“Want more? I can make you half a cup.”
“Enough.”
If she drank more, she wouldn’t have room for dinner.
Suddenly remembering something, Zhōng Yì said, “My dad always keeps Honey Red Beans in his office.”
Zhōu Shíyì looked up at her for a moment. He had never refused any of her requests, reasonable or not: “Got it. I’ll keep some in my office too.”
Zhōng Yì hadn’t been to his office yet. The two companies collaborated, so there would be opportunities in the future.
She stared at the clear profile of his face for a while, shifting her feet closer by half a step, then lifted her hand to gently hug him around the shoulders: “Thanks for making me coffee.”
The hug was so light she wasn’t even sure if she touched him.
Zhōu Shíyì’s Adam’s apple moved slightly. He was replying to a message from Mr. Du; he was about to type an exclamation mark but ended up with a period instead.
After a few seconds’ pause, he didn’t change it back.
Zhōng Yì straightened and stepped back to her original spot.
Zhōu Shíyì looked up and softly said, “Don’t you think your hug was a bit perfunctory?”
Zhōng Yì didn’t look at him and swiped her phone screen.
If he said it was his, she naturally wouldn’t prove she wasn’t being perfunctory.
His gaze stayed fixed on her face: “Don’t look at your phone just yet.”
Zhōng Yì wasn’t really looking—the screen was still on the lock screen.
Zhōu Shíyì then said, “Do you want me to hug you?”
Taking that step in intimacy was hard for both of them.
But at least they had taken the first step.
Zhōng Yì said frankly, “I do.”
Before he could get up, she moved close to him again like before.
She had thought his reciprocation would be a simple hug too.
The moment she leaned in, the man gripped her back and pulled her into his arms.
The pressure of his hands—
A strange yet familiar embrace.
Zhōng Yì’s breath hitched.
Her chest instantly felt filled with something unknown.
They didn’t hug for long.
Zhōu Shíyì let her go: “Next time don’t hug me so perfunctorily. People would think we’re in a marriage of convenience.”
He paused, then said, “Not even a hug done with heart. I can’t imagine how you’ll get along with me after marriage.”
Zhōng Yì: “Don’t think about it. You won’t figure it out.”
She quietly adjusted her breathing. It was strange—there was no awkwardness between them, only unwillingness.
She could feel that unwillingness when he hugged her just now.
“Who did you choose as your best man?” she broke the silence.
Zhōu Shíyì: “Zhōu Jiāyè.”
“Just one best man?”
“Mm. More than one would just make a ruckus.”
She had only told Jì Fánxīng on her side, so it was just right.
Zhōng Yì went outside to the yard, using the garden as an excuse.
Several minutes had passed since the hug, but his scent still lingered around her nose, reluctant to dissipate.
By the Central Island Counter, Zhōu Shíyì closed the email screen.
The butler waited until Zhōng Yì left before coming in to ask about the wedding room arrangements.
“Jiāng Bó, no need to make savory Yutou Su anymore.”
The butler asked instinctively, “Was the last batch not to taste?”
“No.”
Zhōu Shíyì didn’t want to explain too much.
That day at the Jiangcheng Hong Kong-style Tea Restaurant, Zhōng Yì asked him about it directly. Deep down, she hoped all his habits would return to the way she was familiar with.
It was just a kind of pastry, not something they had to eat.
Even without his explanation, the butler guessed it had something to do with Zhōng Yì.
“After adjusting the study, it looks a bit empty. Won’t you add some decorations?”
An empty room never looked good.
Zhōu Shíyì was silent for a few seconds: “Leave it empty for now.”
He would slowly buy things to fill it for her later.
The butler confirmed again: “Will the master bedroom remain unchanged, no further modifications?”
“No changes.”
Zhōu Shíyì gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window at the yard.
Last time, he told her to go upstairs to take a good look; she hadn’t even entered the master bedroom when alone.
So far, she still didn’t see him as her husband—only as an ex-boyfriend who had reunited but not fully reconciled, keeping a polite distance.
***
Friday morning, Zhōu Shíyì received a call from his mother.
She told him that his father had arranged a meeting with his eldest uncle today, so it was probably close to agreeing to take over the group.
Shí Fànyīn: “If he doesn’t take over, he won’t have a good time with me.”
Zhōu Shíyì: “Even if he does, it won’t be easy.”
Shí Fànyīn smiled, pretending to be annoyed: “Are you asking for trouble?”
But her son was right. If she suddenly wanted to settle old scores, Zhōu Yúnlián wouldn’t be able to escape.
These days, she had been sorting out the accounts of the thirty years after marriage, line by line. Last night, she argued with him until two in the morning and only got through a tenth.
This morning, she woke up hearing Zhōu Yúnlián on the terrace on the phone, asking whether eldest uncle would come to the company—he was going over.
The eldest uncle’s health was probably already overdrawn to the limit, or he wouldn’t be forcing him to take over.
Several core sectors of the Kuncheng Group were facing technological upgrades, while the younger generation who took over were strong-handed and refused to listen to advice.
The board of directors was just a figurehead.
The eldest uncle’s energy was insufficient, and he urgently needed Zhōu Shíyì to reassure the shareholders and stabilize the situation in this critical moment.
After the serious talk, Shí Fànyīn asked her son: “How was Lù Chéng’s concert atmosphere?”
“Do you want to go?”
Shí Fànyīn was straightforward: “Can I go?”
Zhōu Shíyì: “If I go, why can’t you?”
Shí Fànyīn commented: “His songs are really good; even at my age, I appreciate them.”
There would be two shows in Beicheng at the end of May. Zhōu Shíyì asked his mother which day she wanted and planned to get a box seat in advance.
“Any day’s fine.” Shí Fànyīn took the opportunity to bring up Lù Chéng again with another purpose: “Son, the ex is really nothing, don’t take it to heart.”
Zhōu Shíyì no longer cared, but was skeptical of his mother’s words: “Mom, if anyone else said that, I would believe it—except you and Dad. You’ve never forgotten about your exes in thirty years.”
“No exaggeration. I don’t know if your dad still misses his ex, but mine has been closed for over twenty years.”
“After breaking up and seeing the ex again, she was married, and he had someone he loved. At that moment, everything was just past.”
“Mom, the issues between Zhōng Yì and me now have nothing to do with anyone else. You don’t have to blame yourself.”
Zhōu Shíyì paused for two seconds, then said, “But you, haven’t you had anyone to care about all these years?”
Shí Fànyīn was slightly stunned: “I’ve never thought about it. Maybe I really should.”
“Dad’s days will get even harder.”
After ending the call with his mother, Zhōu Shíyì dialed Zhōng Yì’s number.
Since they agreed, she called him every night, so he shifted the evening call to morning, then called again at noon.
Three calls a day, almost like when they were dating.
The difference was that the calls were now very brief.
“Arrived at the company?”
“Yes.”
Zhōng Yì glanced at the computer clock: “Got here half an hour ago.”
Zhōu Shíyì checked his watch. It was still before eight o’clock: “So early?”
“Mm.”
She thought she could face the wedding calmly, but as the date approached, she woke earlier and earlier.
This morning, she woke before six.
Before leaving, her father reminded her to get off work on time—tonight, both families would meet.
There were new changes at home every day lately, and the joyful items kept increasing.
All these changes reminded her: twelve days left, and then she would be with him day and night.
That day, his hug made her feel he was even more unwilling than she was.
Life after marriage would be hard.
Zhōu Shíyì’s voice came from the phone: “I’ll pick you up tonight, and we’ll go together.”
Zhōng Yì: “No need. I want to go home first.”
The first formal meeting with the family required changing into a dress.
Their calls were never long; after a few more words, they hung up.
Níng Quē passed by her door, then came back: “So early?”
He stood at the doorway but didn’t enter. “There are already posts online revealing you three as a family.”
“Normal. Rumors always start small. Paparazzi have plenty of evidence but won’t spill easily. If it breaks out, it’s either a diversion for someone’s PR or the timing is just right.”
Níng Quē: “You just need to be mentally prepared.”
Níng Quē was not only the most service-minded on the team but also the most attentive.
At lunch, he specifically came to find her, saying he wanted to talk about the project.
Actually, it wasn’t about the project—it was an excuse to accompany her to the cafeteria so she wouldn’t feel awkward eating alone.
From the moment she entered the cafeteria, Zhōng Yì felt several curious gazes.
The Jinghe Department was huge; their single R&D base alone had over twenty thousand people. It was impossible to know everyone.
She was famous in this group of highly intelligent people because of her looks.
Even so, most colleagues still didn’t recognize her or hadn’t heard her name.
Now, her name was probably known to all.
The boss’s cousin, the second-largest shareholder, and the daughter of a Best Actress—who could resist asking a few questions upon hearing gossip?
Níng Quē whispered, “It’s good you went public. At least no one can falsely spread rumors about your relationship with the boss anymore.”
Seeing her eating while editing documents, he added, “Don’t work while eating; be careful you don’t get a fishbone stuck.”
Zhōng Yì finished editing and locked her screen, explaining: “Not work.”
Zhōu Shíyì always said she didn’t make requests to him. She already had 69 items written down, waiting to bring them up after the wedding. She had suddenly thought of one just now and jotted it down.
She asked Níng Quē for leave: “The parents of both sides are meeting today, so I need to leave half an hour early.”
Níng Quē: “Go ahead. Until the wedding, you can leave early anytime. I’ll keep an eye on the Kuncheng Project.”
Regarding the new project plan, Jinghe’s management had already held four rounds of meetings online and offline. Now they were just waiting for Zhōu Shíyì’s approval.
Zhōng Yì was afraid she would get busy and lose track of time, so she set an alarm.
When it went off, she was tuning parameters. Annoyed, she didn’t even look and turned it off directly.
Níng Quē knew her well, so at five o’clock he had an assistant come knock and remind her.
“Thanks.”
Only then did Zhōng Yì look up from the screen.
The assistant didn’t leave immediately after reminding her: “Ms. Zhōng, my friend’s mother is a fan of Zhōng Jiě.”
Zhōng Yì immediately understood: “I’ll get your autograph later.”
“Thank you, Ms. Zhōng!” The assistant left satisfied.
When Zhōng Yì returned home, her parents were ready, waiting for her.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá smiled gently: “The dress has been picked out for you.”
Zhōng Yì hurried upstairs to change and met the butler on the stairs.
She stopped, hesitated for a moment, then told the butler to have the box of items she brought back from abroad sorted out.
She specifically instructed, “There’s also a compartment in the deepest part of my wardrobe.”
***
Wearing a simply tailored long dress and having put on makeup, she followed her parents to the courtyard for the dinner gathering.
It was the same courtyard where they celebrated the night they registered their marriage.
Zhōu Shíyì’s family arrived a few minutes earlier and waited at the courtyard gate.
Because of the Kuncheng Group takeover, family relations were very tense.
Zhōu Yúnlián glanced at his son, who was looking down, handling emails on his phone.
Then he looked at his wife, who was gazing quietly at him.
At that moment, a Bentley slowly pulled up to the roadside.
Shí Fànyīn saw Jiāng Jìngyuān get out and nodded to her husband with her chin: “Your relatives have arrived!”
Zhōu Yúnlián:
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