The roses were a detour he took just to buy them.
He hadn’t given her any flowers on the day they registered their marriage, and deep down, he always felt a little guilty about it.
After their second meeting following the registration, with lingering resentment and tangled emotions from the past, he had thought about whether to give her a bouquet.
But in the end, he didn’t buy any and went straight to the Civil Affairs Bureau.
Jiang Jingyuan got up at the right moment: “I’ll go check if your mother has finished her call.”
He reminded his son-in-law to treat the place like his own home and that the fridge had everything he might want to drink. Then he grabbed his phone and went upstairs.
Zhong Yì counted the roses—thirty-six in total.
He knew the language of roses; she used to share it with him often.
During their four years together, he had given her roses in various numbers.
Receiving these flowers from him before the wedding was an unexpected surprise.
She turned to look for her phone and rummaged around a bit before finding it under a throw pillow.
Zhōu Shíyì thought she was going to photograph the flowers and didn’t give it much thought as he sat down beside her.
Zhong Yì held the bouquet in front of her phone screen, keeping it hidden from him.
She opened *1095 Things Worth Doing for Him* and flipped to item number seventy, beginning to edit it, deleting the original “Give me 36 roses” and pondering how to revise this request.
When they first reunited, she felt there were countless things she wanted him to do.
***
But after days of thinking, she had only managed to list up to item one hundred and fifty-nine, still unsure which year she’d be able to reach the title’s number.
Who would have guessed that making demands of him would eventually become a burden?
She still kept the flowers in front of the screen, and Zhōu Shíyì couldn’t help but ask out of curiosity, “What are you doing?”
Zhong Yì: “Don’t interrupt my train of thought.”
Zhōu Shíyì adjusted his posture, turning sideways to look at her. “Busy with work?”
Zhong Yì gave a vague answer.
Unable to think of anything particularly important to ask, she casually added item seventy: “Kiss me for 36 minutes.”
After saving the document, she finally put down the roses.
Zhōu Shíyì was puzzled—how could he inspire her work?
“I’m designing a smart driving model; what kind of inspiration could I give you?”
Zhong Yì: “User experience inspiration.”
Zhōu Shíyì was half convinced.
Human-computer interaction? Scenario experience?
If that were really the case, why did she always avoid him?
It was nearly midnight, and Zhong Yì chose not to urge him, opting to wait.
Besides, he didn’t need to go to the office tomorrow; staying up a little later was fine.
She placed the roses in a vase to refresh them, then fetched two cans of fruit wine from the fridge.
Normally, she abstained from alcohol, as it impaired her thinking and judgment.
“Lychee wine, have a taste.” She handed him a can.
Zhōu Shíyì didn’t have to work late tonight and opened the ring immediately.
Zhong Yì tapped her can against his fruit wine. “Happy newlyweds.”
She hadn’t been able to say it cheerfully at their midday registration celebration; today she was making up for it.
“Thank you,” Zhōu Shíyì said, taking a sip.
Zhong Yì drank a third of her can in one go.
Zhōu Shíyì instinctively grabbed her wrist. “Drink slower.”
“It’s only eight degrees; I won’t get drunk.”
Zhong Yì half-joked, “Maybe if I do get drunk, I’ll forgive everything.”
Their eyes met for a few seconds.
Sometimes jokes are the truest words.
Zhōu Shíyì said, “No need to get drunk.”
Most of their knots were already untied; they only seemed distant because they hadn’t spent much time together.
Once they lived together, it probably wouldn’t take half a year before the awkwardness faded.
If any remained, it was his responsibility, and he would find a way to coax her.
Zhong Yì tilted her head slightly and took two more sips. “Actually, you’ve changed a lot.”
She wasn’t sensitive to alcohol, so she handed him the rest.
Zhōu Shíyì set his can on the coffee table and took hers, drinking slowly.
“Changed how?” he asked.
Zhong Yì switched off all the living room lights; the light from the courtyard was enough to see each other clearly.
She sat cross-legged into the sofa, sinking deeply.
“The scent on you has changed.” She had been meaning to ask, “When did you change your cologne?”
Once her eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness, Zhōu Shíyì looked at her. “I don’t use cologne. Maybe the scented lotion Jiang Bo customized is what you’re smelling.”
He was used to it himself and couldn’t detect any fragrance anymore.
“What kind of scent exactly?” he asked.
“Has no one told you?”
“Who would?”
Zhong Yì said nothing more; luckily the lights were off.
Her unintentional jealousy was concealed in the dimness.
She thought about how to describe the scent: “It’s a cedar and fir base note, a bit cold to the nose.”
“Not used to it?”
“Now I am.” She recalled their first meeting at the art exhibition’s celebration—he had seemed completely unfamiliar.
Zhōu Shíyì’s can held only a little fruit wine left; he asked if she wanted more.
Zhong Yì shook her head, not in the mood to drink.
Zhōu Shíyì finished his last sips, picked up his own can, and continued, “Your scent is different from before, too.”
“Mm. It’s a citrus scent now.” Zhong Yì didn’t expect him to notice such subtle differences. “You think it’s obvious?”
“No, it’s not as sweet as before.”
Before, when she wore perfume, she’d sit in his lap, and the top notes’ sweetness filled his nose.
About ten seconds passed, and neither spoke.
Zhōu Shíyì drank his second can of lychee wine at an unhurried pace; the low alcohol content made it more like fruit juice.
He rarely drank juice, except for what she made him try.
“My mom told you not to have any regrets on the wedding day, right? If you have anything you want to ask me, ask before the wedding—even about my last arranged marriage. I won’t think you’re being unreasonable.”
“Why ask so much? The one who feels hurt is me.”
“Can you get past it without asking?”
Zhong Yì hadn’t planned to ask, but eventually she did: “Did you take her home? Meet your parents?”
Zhōu Shíyì swallowed slowly. “Yeah.”
She didn’t give herself a moment to think, not even half a second.
“I heard the engagement date was set by Grandpa. At that moment, what were you thinking?”
“I was thinking—am I going to repeat my parents’ marriage? Become like my dad?”
Zhong Yì didn’t respond.
“Anything else you want to ask?”
She shook her head. “If I ask more, we might have to sleep apart on the wedding night.”
He said, “No.”
No matter how upset she was after the wedding, he would patiently soothe her.
Not like when they broke up, when he didn’t even hold her once at the end.
That arranged marriage had been his choice; it wasn’t forced by the family against his wishes.
It was natural for her to feel wronged and blame him.
During that time, he had once again considered handling the wedding dress to completely close that chapter with her.
Not only him—the other party also said that once engaged, they wanted to be together sincerely, not just to fulfill the marriage.
With mutual understanding, they began to try to get to know each other.
That’s why he knew who her mentor was, where her junior sister worked, and that they had had dinner twice with Tang Nuoyun and her boyfriend.
During those dinners, they talked about everything.
Somebody started chatting about the top dogs in various fields at Jinghe.
Tang Nuoyun self-deprecatingly said, “I’m not a big shot. The real big shots have terrible tempers. There’s someone on the large model team who ignores everyone, drinks coffee in meetings, and even the clients don’t dare to speak to her.”
The arranged marriage partner asked, “That intimidating?”
Tang Nuoyun:
“Because she’s talented. All the core patents for Jinghe’s Multi-modal Fusion come from her and her team. Back then, big companies from home and abroad tried to poach her, but she chose Jinghe.”
Tang Nuoyun’s boyfriend chipped in: “You’re talking about Zhong Yì, right?”
Tang Nuoyun: “Yes, that’s her.”
Her boyfriend said, “I’ve run into her several times at the Headquarters Cafeteria—always alone. Someone from our team wanted to ask her out but never dared, and eventually gave up.”
He hadn’t heard news of her for a long time, so hearing her name suddenly at the dinner table caught him off guard.
At her new team, she still ate alone.
Zhōu Shíyì gathered his thoughts and tilted his head back, taking a few more sips of lychee wine.
Zhong Yì suddenly wanted to drink, breaking the silence in the living room: “Save me a little.”
Zhōu Shíyì handed her the can. “You drink first; if you can’t finish it, give it back to me.”
Zhong Yì thought to herself, let’s just call it drinking to open our hearts.
Once, he had been serious about that chapter, never careless, determined to start anew.
He had tried hard to move forward but in the end took marriage seriously.
Asking these questions was harder than she imagined, especially hearing his answers in his own words.
But as he said, not asking wouldn’t help.
Like a fishbone stuck deep, the longer it stayed, the worse it felt.
Better to remove it promptly.
Zhōu Shíyì also had a question for her: “Zhong Yì, do you see me as your husband?”
She was briefly stunned—she hadn’t thought about that.
She answered without addressing the question: “I’m still thinking about you meeting your parents during your last arranged marriage.”
She truly was thinking.
And truly hurt.
So she didn’t want to answer him yet.
Zhōu Shíyì didn’t press. He stood, pulling her into his lap.
Held firmly before him, Zhong Yì’s breath hitched.
Zhōu Shíyì pressed her head lightly against his neck. “After the wedding, you can sulk with me, be distant with me—I’ll coax you. But don’t let it affect our wedding mood.”
There were only the two of them in the living room; no one came downstairs to disturb.
The Maybach was still parked in the courtyard, but the living room lights downstairs were off. Rarely did they get such quiet time to talk. Naturally, Jiang Jingyuan and Zhong Zhuóhuá stayed upstairs.
Jiang Jingyuan came out of the bathroom and saw his wife still photographing the bouquet.
He often gave her roses, but she had never been so patient taking pictures before.
“Aren’t you going to shower and sleep?” he urged.
Zhong Zhuóhuá: “Not sleepy. Lying in bed feels uncomfortable too.”
“I told you to sleep less during the day but you don’t listen.”
Her mood was so good she didn’t even want to roll her eyes at him.
“Give me the flowers. I’ll refresh them. You go wash up quickly—don’t wait until the wedding day with dark circles worse than our daughter’s.”
Zhong Zhuóhuá: “I haven’t worked for two months; dark circles don’t matter.”
She’d been unable to sleep at night recently and had to nap during the day.
She regretted, “I really should’ve met Jì Fánxīng earlier. But it’s not too late now—we can have fun together for decades and even raise kids together.”
The kids definitely couldn’t be raised by him and Zhōu Yunlian; they’d come out with stubborn personalities.
Zhong Zhuóhuá put down her phone and handed the flowers to her husband: “Be careful.”
Jiang Jingyuan: “If you like such bold colors, I’ll pick the same flowers next time.”
Zhong Zhuóhuá: “I’m naturally drawn to boldness.”
She loved everything passionate, whether flowers or love.
Her manager once joked that even her looks were shaped around the word “bold.”
Not just her appearance, but her name too.
Jiang Jingyuan: “Then I’ll always give you flowers like this. What about the roses? Do you want them?”
“No answer.”
Jiang Jingyuan knew her response and unzipped her dress before refreshing the flowers.
Zhong Zhuóhuá: “Zhōu Shíyì hasn’t left yet?”
“No, the car’s still here.”
She glanced at his watch—already a new day.
After her shower, the courtyard lights were off, and the son-in-law’s car had quietly left sometime ago.
Only two days until their daughter’s wedding, when the entire Jiang family would be present.
Their child was grown and this was the first time meeting her in-laws; probably no one else was like that except her.
Lately, she couldn’t sleep at night—partly because of the wedding, partly because of her own reasons.
“Still not sleeping?” Jiang Jingyuan waited.
Zhong Zhuóhuá gently patted moisturizing lotion on her neck and glanced at him. “I’m sure I won’t remember who’s who with so many people at your house that day.”
“No need to remember them all, just my sister.”
Jiang Jingyuan added, “You won’t have to try to remember my sister—you’ll just recognize her naturally when you see her. Xiaoyi’s with her aunt, so she’ll definitely spot her right away.”
Jiang Jingyuan stared at his wife: “You can’t sleep every day—is it because you’re thinking about all this?”
Zhong Zhuóhuá: “You flatter me; I think about your family every day!”
She turned off the light in front of the mirror and got into bed.
Tonight, she didn’t want to sleep next to him at all, but after the bedroom lights went off, Jiang Jingyuan pulled her into his arms.
“Are you sure you want to wear that purple dress?”
Zhong Zhuóhuá hadn’t intended to answer, but she rarely showed temper when he held her like this. She gave a faint “Mm.”
Jiang Jingyuan: “Then I’ll wear the suit we picked earlier.”
“Shouldn’t you ask Zhōu Yunlian what color he’s wearing?”
“…Why would I ask him?”
“One wears gray, one wears navy blue—will the photos look good?”
“Doesn’t matter if it doesn’t look good.”
Unable to convince him, Zhong Zhuóhuá buried her face in his chest. “Don’t talk—I want to sleep.”
Suddenly she remembered something: “Xiaoyi only has one friend, and she’s not from your circle. At the wedding banquet, she won’t know anyone. You seat that girl next to me, I’ll keep her company.”
She still had plenty to talk about with young people.
Jiang Jingyuan looked at the woman in his arms. “We’ll have to toast at the banquet, too.”
“When I’m toasting, Jì Fánxīng should be done with her duties.”
“With Jì Fánxīng there, I’m completely at ease.”
Jiang Jingyuan took this to heart. “Okay, I’ll arrange everything.”
That night, Zhong Zhuóhuá still couldn’t sleep well.
Upstairs, Zhong Yì also tossed and turned.
She woke at 6:30 a.m., having slept less than five hours total.
Sometimes she wondered—if her relationship with Zhōu Shíyì had been a normal romance and marriage, without three years of separation, would she still be so eager for the wedding?
In faint anticipation, the wedding day finally arrived.
***
Zhong Yì had almost no sleep, waking at 5 a.m.
Throughout the night, the villa was brightly lit.
Before she got up, the household was already busy.
Zhong Yì quickly freshened up and headed downstairs to find her parents.
Just as she turned the corner of the stairs, she heard her aunt’s voice in the living room.
“Aunt!”
She leaned over the stair railing and called down.
On her father’s side, she was closest to her aunt’s family.
Jiang Rui hadn’t seen her niece in a while and waved with a smile: “Come down quickly so Auntie can see you.”
Zhong Zhuóhuá poured a glass of water and smiled, “Drink some warm water.”
Jiang Rui took it and said, “Third sister-in-law, don’t bother yourself now—go put on your makeup.”
Zhong Zhuóhuá said there was no rush and sat down to chat with her younger sister-in-law: “You and Xiaoyi walking together look more like mother and daughter.”
Jiang Rui laughed: “Exactly. Once when I was looking through Xiaoyi’s photos, the secretary saw and asked when I had my third child.”
“Dun dun dun—” Zhong Yì hurried down the stairs.
“Aunt, why are you here so early? Did you sleep at all last night?”
“On the plane, I got some sleep.” She came straight here after landing.
Jiang Rui was usually busy, and the two hadn’t seen each other in almost three months.
Zhong Yì hugged her aunt. “Aunt, you should rest upstairs for a bit—staying up late won’t do your health any favors.”
“I’m okay—not that sleepy.”
Jiang Rui was worried: “Still don’t know if Min Ting has restored your wedding photos yet.”