Putting down the damp towel, Zhōu Shíyì pushed the fruit plate toward Zhōng Yì, signaling for her to take some first. She loved crispy watermelon the most.
Zhōng Yì pushed it back again. “I hurt my stomach eating it. I don’t want any lately.”
“Watermelon can hurt your stomach?” Níng Quē interjected.
He could eat half a watermelon by himself sometimes, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
Zhōng Yì said, “Once, I accidentally ate too much cold watermelon.” She didn’t say when exactly she had eaten it.
Suddenly, Zhōu Shíyì recalled the end of March, at Teacher Yu’s house in the small town, where Shīmǔ bought crispy watermelon soaked in well water and served it to them in the pavilion.
At that time, he asked her for the wedding photos; she said she had deleted them. Afterward, she kept eating watermelon as if nothing had happened.
That day, she ate quite a bit under the pavilion. After lunch, Shīmǔ brought out another plate of even colder watermelon, and she ate half of it.
Not sure if that was when she hurt her stomach.
Taking the opportunity, Níng Quē stood up. “Let me see if there are any other fruits for you.”
He was wise—leaving the seat during hotpot was most convenient for adjusting dipping sauces or grabbing fruit. Any excuse was enough for them to have a moment alone.
He chewed on watermelon as he walked over to the seasoning station.
There were only two or three kinds of fruit on the counter, none of which Zhōng Yì liked.
He picked a few cucumber slices and took a bowl to mix his own ice jelly, deliberately delaying his return.
At their table, Zhōu Shíyì asked the person beside him, “Did you get sick from eating at Teacher Yu’s?”
Zhōng Yì tilted her head and nodded.
Zhōu Shíyì had thought she was enjoying it, but apparently not.
“Do you remember exactly when you deleted the photos?”
Zhōng Yì paused, about to say who remembers that clearly.
But her momentary hesitation was caught by Zhōu Shíyì: “You remember, don’t you?”
Zhōng Yì admitted frankly, “When I knew you had the right person and were planning to get married.”
Zhōu Shíyì was silent for a moment, focused on her.
Before she spoke, he had guessed about seventy or eighty percent.
That day in Teacher Yu’s pavilion, he asked her why she had shredded the wedding photos so thoroughly.
She said, “I was worried that if I left them on the computer and forgot to delete them, someday they might leak out. That wouldn’t be good for your current or my current.”
At the time, he only focused on the deleted wedding photos and remembered seeing her and Lù Chéng’s photos, overlooking what she meant by “your current.”
How to define “current” now?
Even if there were no feelings left, he thought everything about the relationship was suitable—they had met each other’s parents.
She still had chocolates in her bag; Zhōng Yì took out a piece for him. “Eat a few more pieces of our wedding candies. Lately, I’ve been eating several every day.”
Zhōu Shíyì’s gaze locked on her. She felt upset inside but never asked about that matter.
He didn’t take the chocolate but raised his hand to pull her close into his embrace.
Zhōng Yì was completely unguarded; her nose bumped against his collarbone.
“Did you finish the chocolates I brought you?”
Zhōng Yì: “There are still two pieces in the fridge.”
“I’ll bring more on my next business trip.”
***
People passed through the aisle beside them, making it inconvenient to hold her for long, so Zhōu Shíyì let her go first.
Zhōng Yì wore a white shirt today, with an apron on, tying its strings slowly.
After fastening the apron, she was about to get a glass of water when Zhōu Shíyì took her left hand.
Zhōng Yì thought he was going to comfort her. “I’m fine.”
Zhōu Shíyì took off the Diamond Ring from her ring finger and put it back on again.
Zhōng Yì looked at his slender fingers. It was still the same ring, but worn by his hand, it felt completely different.
She had tried to draw his hand before but the sketch looked nothing like. Sensibly, she hadn’t shown him.
Zhōu Shíyì glanced sideways at her. “My mom told you, right? Settling scores is never too late; after marriage, you can come find me.”
“All in the past. What’s the point of settling scores with you?” Zhōng Yì’s eyes lingered on the ring he just put on, then she glanced at him. “Settling scores after breaking up would be unreasonable.”
Zhōu Shíyì said, “If I’m willing to let you settle the score, then it’s not unreasonable.”
He didn’t want her to have any grievances after marriage.
He extended his left hand to her. “Want to help me put it back on?”
Zhōng Yì took off the Plain Ring and slowly put it on his ring finger.
There were clearly three more days until the wedding, when they would exchange rings.
But this moment felt more meaningful than the ceremony itself.
In the noisy, lively hotpot restaurant, this was a secret moment belonging only to the two of them.
No sooner had the rings been put on than the server brought the pot.
Níng Quē ordered tomato and spicy mala dual broth.
At that moment, Níng Quē sat in the waiting area near the door, eating the ice jelly he had mixed and placing orders on his phone.
Five minutes ago, carrying his ice jelly back to the table, he happened to see them embracing and immediately stopped, quickly turning back.
He’d never be curious again about their private moments.
With the order placed and the ice jelly finished, Níng Quē got up and went back to the seasoning station to mix another bowl for himself.
“No fruit you like.” He pushed a few cucumber slices over and pointed to the ice jelly in front of him. “I just tried it. It tastes pretty good. Want some?”
Zhōng Yì waved him off. “Save room for the fish slices.”
Níng Quē noticed they didn’t even realize he’d been gone for a while because no one asked why he had just come back.
Tonight wasn’t the time for old stories; the memories between the two had never been very happy.
He switched topics to the Kuncheng project. “Have you told Zhōu Shíyì that Táng Nuòyǔn quit the project?”
Zhōng Yì answered, “Haven’t had time to say.”
Zhōu Shíyì was no stranger to Táng Nuòyǔn—she was the daughter of the mentor for his previous arranged marriage match.
His arranged marriage match studied under a major figure in the field, was close with her mentor’s family, and the mentor and Shīmǔ still lived abroad; only the junior apprentice Táng Nuòyǔn had returned.
A few days ago, Du mentioned Táng Nuòyǔn; she knew Kuncheng Motors was under his charge before joining the project, so her quitting shouldn’t involve him.
With her personality, she wouldn’t avoid contact just because his arranged marriage to her senior sister didn’t work out.
Work was more important to her than anything or anyone.
“Why quit all of a sudden?”
Níng Quē said, “She’s Yang Jiayuan’s daughter.”
Zhōu Shíyì was equally shocked. He hadn’t expected such a coincidence.
“Does your mom know?” he asked with concern.
Zhōng Yì shook her head. “I don’t know. Probably not.”
Her father, as Jinghe’s second-largest shareholder, had the daughter of his first love working in his company.
If her mother knew about this, she wouldn’t stay silent.
Zhōng Yì bit into a cucumber slice. “I’ll tell my dad after the wedding.”
Her father never interfered with company affairs and was probably unaware.
The three sat together past ten, during which Níng Quē got up five times—too much watermelon and ice jelly.
At least three months without watermelon.
Zhōu Shíyì handed Zhōng Yì a towel and asked across the table, “Are you free on the 19th?”
Níng Quē laughed. “You ask like this—how could I not go to your wedding?”
Zhōu Shíyì: “I mean to pick you up. Are you free?”
“You have so many relatives, and you want me, an outsider, to pick you up?”
“My cousins aren’t reliable; they might back out last minute.”
Níng Quē joked to himself, “Didn’t expect that—I’m so reliable in your heart, huh? Fine, I’ll come no matter what that day.”
When the three left the hotpot restaurant, it was already 10:20.
Zhōng Yì waved at Zhōu Shíyì. They wouldn’t see each other again until the wedding day.
Halfway to the Maybach, Zhōu Shíyì instructed the driver to stop by his parents’ house.