When they arrived, his mother was busy in the dining room; the table was covered with fresh flowers.
“Mom, what are you busy with?”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to make your own bouquet? I’m helping arrange the flowers, seeing what looks good.”
“Blue hydrangeas with white roses,” Zhōu Shíyì said.
“Did you arrange them?”
“No.”
Zhōu Shíyì put down his suit jacket and walked over. “Zhōng Yì loves hydrangeas. She’s planted plenty at the Boston house.”
Shī Fànyīn glanced over the flowers, but there were no hydrangeas.
“Where’s Dad?”
“He’s still at Grandpa’s.”
“Playing cards again?”
“No, your grandfather kept him back for a private talk.”
“Grandpa still up so late?”
Since his son didn’t use the flowers, Shī Fànyīn, on a whim, made a bouquet for herself.
As she picked flowers, she said absentmindedly, “When you’re our age, you’ll know how precious sleep is, especially at your grandfather’s age.”
Zhōu Shíyì poured a glass of warm water and leaned against the island counter watching his mother arrange flowers.
Only then did Shī Fànyīn remember to ask, “Was there something you needed your dad for?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Shī Fànyīn smiled upon seeing the ring on his hand. “Zhōng Yì bought that?”
“Yes.”
“I was wondering why you came back so suddenly.”
He wasn’t bringing it to show his parents on purpose.
His parents had been busy preparing for the wedding recently, and he was just stopping by to see them.
Zhōu Shíyì didn’t explain; his mother wouldn’t believe him anyway.
Shī Fànyīn handed the wrapped flowers to her son. “Take these to your mother-in-law for me and say it’s the first bouquet I ever made in my life. Also, send my best wishes.”
Zhōu Shíyì instinctively looked at his watch. It was nearly eleven.
Shī Fànyīn understood what her son was worried about. “They definitely aren’t asleep. You don’t understand a mother’s feelings—the closer to the wedding, the harder it is to sleep.”
Zhōu Shíyì took the flowers. Before he reached the yard, his phone vibrated.
Du: 【Mr. Zhōu, Lù Chéng’s studio replied; they reserved two private room tickets for May 27th’s event. Bring them to me on the day of the launch.】
***
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, at the dance studio.
Lù Chéng had just finished rehearsal. The setlist for the Beicheng venue differed by seven or eight songs from Jiangcheng’s, and the recent days were focused on practicing.
Sister Cen handed him a cup of warm water and reminded, “Drink less.”
“The tickets Du asked for have been reserved,” she said, opening a can of cola herself.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá’s gossip had lasted over a month, intensifying.
Though suppressed from trending, it was already the hot topic within the circle.
He had once thought it was simple—that Zhōu Shíyì sent opening support and appeared at the concert purely as a fan of Lù Chéng.
He never expected the other party was Zhōng Yì’s husband.
Three days later was their wedding.
“You used to swear up and down that Zhōng Zhuóhuá being pregnant and having a daughter was false, didn’t you?”
Sister Cen tilted her head back, drinking half a can in one go.
Lù Chéng sipped warm water and browsed his phone silently.
Sister Cen said nothing more, holding the half-empty cola can as she gazed at the dazzling city night below, laughing bitterly to herself.
Even now, she couldn’t believe Zhōng Yì was the daughter of Zhōng Zhuóhuá and Jiāng Jìngyuān.
She’d seen Zhōng Yì—she looked nothing like Zhōng Zhuóhuá.
She took another sip of cola and looked at Lù Chéng. “I know you blame me and the company for breaking you up with Zhōng Yì.”
Lù Chéng finally spoke, “Why would I blame you and the company?”
If there’s anyone to blame, it’s himself.
He chose a path that almost made it impossible to be with her in the end.
After breaking up, he rarely thought about the past—too much regret.
He promised to see her but couldn’t due to visa issues.
Recently, his grandfather called, saying he met one of his high school classmates.
He asked which classmate and their name.
Grandpa couldn’t remember the name clearly, only that it was his classmate, a girl who had loved riding boats since childhood.
There wouldn’t be anyone else but her.
Grandpa also said: The girl cut her hair short. If she hadn’t greeted me first, I almost wouldn’t have recognized her.
The person wearing sunglasses sitting next to Zhōu Shíyì at the concert was indeed her.
In high school, she said if he ever held a concert, the best seat must be reserved for her.
He said, “Alright, it has to be you.”
Years later, she came to hear his first concert live and heard him sing “Yì.” Now all his wishes had come true; he should be happy.
Sister Cen was silent for a long while, then reminded, “There’s an interaction segment with Zhōu Shíyì at the launch on the 22nd.”
Lù Chéng snapped back to reality, “I know.”
But it’s just work; he didn’t want to think too much.
Sister Cen opened her mouth but said nothing, downing the rest of the cola.
At this point, anything she said was futile.
***
When Lù Chéng learned Zhōng Yì’s husband was Zhōu Shíyì, someone handed him a cup of milk tea.
His hand trembled and he didn’t catch it well—the tea spilled all over the floor.
She knew Lù Chéng’s hardest pain wasn’t that Zhōng Yì was getting married.
After the breakup, it was inevitable she would start a new life.
What hurt was that he sang “Yì,” the song written for her, on stage while she sat in the audience—and now they were strangers.
All his wishes had come true.
But everything had changed.
The night he found out Zhōng Yì was Zhōng Zhuóhuá’s daughter, Lù Chéng locked himself in his room all night, missing rehearsal for the first time.
He knew they were broken up, but Zhōng Yì still asked her mother to look after him.
Sister Cen looked downstairs again.
It was the weekend; the mall’s giant screen was still playing advertisements, currently showing Lù Chéng’s car commercial.
As the Maybach passed the mall’s main road, Zhōu Shíyì glanced out the window, catching sight of the Kuncheng Motors ad.
Before he could look away, the car drove past.
Zhōu Shíyì sent Zhōng Yì a message: 【Are you asleep yet?】
Zhōng Yì didn’t see it; she threw her phone on the sofa upon arriving home and chatted with her parents.
With a new home of their own coming, she felt increasingly reluctant to leave her parents.
Her father was even more reluctant, usually eager to feed her himself, unsure how many days until they’d see each other again.
She planned to move back after the wedding, but Dad said everyone should have their own space.
“Just think of it as you going back to college again,” Jiāng Jìngyuān joked, consoling himself. “I’ll get a break too.”
Zhōng Yì held her father’s arm. “Is there a feeling of relief like finally escaping hardship?”
Jiāng Jìngyuān smiled warmly, “I can’t say there isn’t a little.”
Zhōng Yì teased him, “See, that’s what parents really think!”
Jiāng Jìngyuān ruffled his daughter’s hair. Since she was born, he’d never felt tired raising her—he cherished her childhood memories.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Zhōng Yì turned her head.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá had changed into another dress and was coming downstairs.
On the wedding day, both families would take group photos at the hotel first; the parents wouldn’t go on stage during the ceremony.
Otherwise, guests would be too busy gossiping about her to enjoy the banquet.
“Mom, this dress looks better.”
Zhōng Zhuóhuá’s pale purple beaded gown exuded noble elegance.
Jiāng Jìngyuān had ordered two sets for her; he and his daughter had the same taste and had immediately liked this one.
Zhōng Zhuóhuá was also satisfied. “Shī Fànyīn is wearing champagne. Mine should match hers nicely.”
Jiāng Jìngyuān looked at his wife, but her first thought wasn’t about whether the dress matched his suit.
At that moment, a car drove into the yard.
Zhōng Yì looked out the floor-to-ceiling window.
Besides their own car, only Zhōu Shíyì’s vehicle could come and go freely.
“So late, why did Shíyì come over?” Zhōng Zhuóhuá looked at her daughter thoughtfully. “Didn’t you just have hotpot together tonight? Did you have a falling out?”
“No.” Zhōng Yì didn’t know why he came.
It was a good thing—one last meeting before the wedding and to bring her packed things to the bridal suite.
Jiāng Jìngyuān guessed, “Maybe some wedding details need to be discussed.”
Just then, Zhōu Shíyì entered carrying two bouquets.
“Dad, Mom.” After greeting, he first handed the bouquet his mother had made to his mother-in-law. “My mom’s first bouquet. She asked me to bring it to you.”
He brought his mother’s blessing: “My mom wishes you a heart free and a path full of flowers.”
“Thank you! It’s so late; thank you for coming.” Zhōng Zhuóhuá accepted the wildly fragrant flowers happily, feeling a pang of emotion. She often received flowers, but this one was especially meaningful.
“Shíyì, sit down. I’ll go upstairs to call your mom back.”
Zhōu Shíyì handed the other bouquet of roses to Zhōng Yì.
“Thank you. Did your mom make these too?”
“No, I bought them.”
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