His phone vibrated—his mother sent a message: 【Send Mom the proposal video.】
Zhōu Shíyì: 【Jì Fánxīng hasn’t sent it to me yet. Probably not edited.】
Shí Fànyīn: 【My mother-in-law and I never had a proposal; Zhōng Yì finally has one.】
Zhōu Shíyì: 【My mother-in-law did. You’re the only one who didn’t.】
Shí Fànyīn: ….
Zhōu Shíyì: 【I heard from Zhōng Yì that when her father proposed, her mother didn’t agree that day but reluctantly nodded the next morning.】 He added, 【He proposed on a cruise ship at sea.】
Zhōu Shíyì replied and casually took a screenshot to send to his father.
Zhōu Yúnlián was in a meeting. His son rarely messaged him; thinking it was a project document screenshot, he opened it and his vision darkened.
This was his dutiful son, the one he raised, who seemed to want to give him a couple more blows.
Zhōu Yúnlián: 【Can’t you cover up a little for me?】
Zhōu Shíyì: 【I never lie. The last time I bought a cake, I said a few words for you because it was true.】
Zhōu Yúnlián: …
He had barely regained control over the family finances, and a few simple sentences from his son set their relationship back to square one overnight.
Zhōu Shíyì: 【My mom never wanted money. Why don’t you understand that?】
Zhōu Yúnlián: 【So should I divorce her and let her be with her first love?】
Zhōu Shíyì: …
Zhōu Yúnlián: 【Her first love gave her a scarf, and she still ties it to her bag strap. It’s been thirty years, and she’s not embarrassed by the outdated scarf!】
Zhōu Yúnlián: 【Forget it, why am I telling you this?】
Zhōu Yúnlián: 【Next time you come home, take a close look at the scarf on your mom’s bag!】
Zhōu Yúnlián: 【It’s not like I didn’t buy her a new one; she never thought to change it!】
Zhōu Yúnlián: 【I wanted the wedding on the 28th, but she insisted on the 29th! February 29th—who in their right mind picks that day to get married?】
Zhōu Yúnlián: 【How am I worse than her first love?】
Zhōu Yúnlián: 【Although having you was just to fulfill a duty, Zhōu Shíyì, be honest with yourself—is this the kind of father I am?】
It seemed his father was confused and angry; just moments ago he said he wouldn’t say these things, but now he kept going.
Not only did he keep going, he was spilling words like beans from a bamboo tube.
Zhōu Shíyì didn’t reply and directly sent a screenshot of the chat to his mother.
Shí Fànyīn: 【He looks wronged!】
Shí Fànyīn: 【He helped his ex several times. Did he consider my feelings?】
Shí Fànyīn: 【Even if it was an arranged marriage without love, did he consider my pride even a little?】
Shí Fànyīn: 【He’s ten thousand miles worse than my first love!】
Shí Fànyīn: 【No need for you to screenshot; I’ll send it to him myself!】
Zhōu Shíyì:【You and my dad should’ve had such an honest talk long ago.】
He glanced again at the chat box; that “ten thousand miles worse” had clearly struck a nerve with his father.
Sure enough, a minute later, his father sent: 【Do you know what kind of life I’ve lived all these years?】
Zhōu Shíyì: 【That was my mom’s angry words. Did you take them seriously?】
Zhōu Yúnlián: 【Angry words hurt the most, don’t they? When you and Zhōng Yì broke up, wasn’t it because of too many angry words?】
Zhōu Shíyì: 【I’ve learned from past mistakes; don’t speak carelessly anymore.】
Zhōu Yúnlián always felt it was reversed: other parents teach children not to repeat their mistakes; theirs was the parents telling the children not to repeat theirs.
Zhōu Shíyì: 【Solve your own problems. I’m busy.】
Just after replying to his father, Jì Fánxīng sent him last night’s birthday and proposal video.
He saved it and forwarded it to Zhōng Yì.
Yán Tínglín messaged him: 【You’re too shy to post it; I posted it for you. Zhōng Yì’s birthday, and I have no gift, so let this be it.】
Zhōu Shíyì opened Moments; two minutes ago, Yán Tínglín had posted the proposal video.
Caption: 【Missed the wedding but caught the proposal!】
Yán Tínglín was replying to comments under the post when Táng Nuòyún knocked and came in.
“Boss, aren’t you testing today?”
***
Yesterday, Zhōng Yì’s testing requirements had been put aside; the boss hadn’t allowed testing, so she hadn’t been able to reply to Zhōng Yì.
Yán Tínglín looked up. “Tomorrow. Today’s their big day; testing would just cause trouble.”
Táng Nuòyún nodded. “Okay.”
As expected, the next day’s test report came out showing the model needed adjustments.
Zhōng Yì received the report and felt down for a few minutes before diving back into work.
Níng Quē had joked earlier that if she hadn’t been premature and was full term in November or December, Yán Tínglín might have broken through the bottleneck.
But later, they found that even if the birth was delayed two more months, the breakthrough wouldn’t come.
It was now early January, and Beicheng was in the depths of winter.
Zhōng Yì got up before seven, pulled the curtains, and saw the world outside blanketed in white.
It had snowed last night.
Last year at this time, she was working late at the company and didn’t go home.
Who would have thought that day Zhōu Shíyì went to her home to deliver documents to her father.
Today, after connecting to the real vehicle test, she hurriedly ate breakfast and rushed to the experiment building’s debugging center.
Shào Jìn’ān had arrived too, his breakfast simpler than hers—soy milk and fried dough sticks.
Yán Tínglín came last; he had only slept at four a.m. and had to get out of bed after several alarms.
“Didn’t have breakfast yet, right?” Shào Jìn’ān asked.
Before Yán Tínglín could answer, he handed him another fried dough stick. “For you both.”
The test site was in Jiangcheng, and the weather had been good for the past few days.
The video feed was connected, and everyone began preparations.
Zhōng Yì folded her arms, staring intently at the big screen.
Under normal road conditions, the autonomous driving system had no problems, but when a car suddenly darted out from either side, the system response lagged noticeably.
And such delays were extremely dangerous.
Yán Tínglín comforted her, “It’s okay, continued optimization will solve it.”
The test results were unsatisfactory.
Everyone was so busy that they only ate two meals all day.
Zhōng Yì didn’t leave the experiment building all day. At eight p.m., there was still a night test.
Her phone was in her bag; she hadn’t looked at it all day.
Zhōu Shíyì knew she was busy and didn’t call her, only sending a message at noon reminding her to eat on time.
The daytime test was disappointing, and during the night test, Zhōng Yì’s heart began to sink.
Before the test even started, as soon as the vehicle was turned on, the system crashed.
Táng Nuòyún said, “There’s a power supply problem.”
They worked until almost eleven, but the problem still wasn’t solved.
Yán Tínglín said, “Everyone go home and rest well tonight. One day won’t make a difference.”
Zhōng Yì: “You should go home too.”
Yán Tínglín smiled, “I definitely have to rest or I won’t hold up.”
Zhōng Yì went downstairs and saw a familiar figure sitting in the lobby.
It felt like back when they were at school, when coming out of the experiment building, she’d see him there.
“How long have you been waiting?”
“Not long.”
Zhōu Shíyì took her Canvas Bag and held her hand as they stepped outside.
The snow started again around dusk, thick and steady, showing no sign of stopping.
The freshly cleared road soon became covered with a thick layer once more.
Zhōu Shíyì understood the test results from tonight but didn’t ask further.
Back at the hotel, after showering, he held her and turned off the lights to rest.
“Sleep,” he kissed her forehead.
Zhōng Yì hugged him tightly. “Good night.”
She closed her eyes, her mind restless; even smelling his scent made it hard to fall asleep.
After an unknown length of time, the steady sound of his breathing lulled her.
He hadn’t rested a full day in months, traveling back and forth between Jiangcheng and Beicheng.
Once he fell into a deep sleep, Zhōng Yì loosened her hold, gently moving the hand he had resting on her waist away.
Without turning on the light, she used the faint glow of the phone screen to find her way to the bedroom.
At two a.m., Zhōng Yì put on her thick coat, grabbed her phone and car keys, and left.
The snow was heavy; walking to the experiment building would be too slow, so she drove the Yueche Yán Tínglín had given her.
When she arrived at the experiment building and parked, another car pulled in behind her.
Shào Jìn’ān opened his door, and upon seeing who it was, both men smiled silently.
No unnecessary words were exchanged as they headed upstairs together.
There were people at the debugging center; half an hour ago, Yán Tínglín had come and gone again.
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