Zhou Shiyi woke up to find his arms empty.
The aftereffects of a nightmare made him momentarily think that reuniting and marrying Zhong Yi was just a dream.
But at this moment, waking from the dream, there was no one in his embrace.
He had had a similar dream once after their breakup.
In that dream, Zhong Yi was waiting for him at their home in Boston, greeting him as he returned from work, immediately throwing herself into his arms and asking why he was so late.
He held her tightly, promising never to part again.
Then he woke up.
He woke in their Shanghai home. At that time, he rarely returned to Beicheng, mostly staying in Shanghai.
The feeling of holding her in that dream was so real that he sat on the terrace for half an hour after waking, unable to shake it off.
Across the way, the night view of the Bund was already dark, but many windows in the office buildings still glowed like countless flickering lights.
That day, for the first time, he had asked the housekeeper for a cigarette.
The next morning, as the housekeeper cleaned the ashtray, he remarked casually, “You’re smoking quite a lot.”
He promised to be more careful.
That was the only time he dreamed of her in those three years after the breakup.
Afterward, he never dreamed of her again.
Today, waking was different—there were two boxes of sixteen pieces each on the bedside table.
They had been bought just yesterday.
Zhou Shiyi steadied himself, certain it wasn’t a dream.
He checked his phone for the time: 6:02.
Pulling back the curtains, it was still dark at six in the winter morning, but the snow had stopped.
It must have snowed all night. The world outside was a white blur; the cars in the parking lot below were completely covered, their roofs invisible beneath thick snow.
He didn’t need to call Zhong Yi to guess where she was now.
He just didn’t know what time she had gotten up during the night to go to the debugging center.
By 6:30, Zhou Shiyi had finished washing and put on his coat before heading downstairs.
The cafeteria was already open at this hour; he bought three breakfasts and made his way to the laboratory building.
The debugging center was quiet; three people were slumped in chairs, asleep.
The night shift staff had taken their coats and draped them over their laps.
They had only just sat down half an hour earlier, and once their backs touched the chairs, they had no energy left to get up.
Yan Tinglin said the roads outside were snowy and that they should rest a bit before heading back.
They had fallen asleep during that break.
Zhou Shiyi didn’t want to disturb them; he put down the breakfasts and gently lifted Zhong Yi from her chair, letting her rest against him as she slept.
She slept until 7:30, when the other two woke up, stiff and sore in their necks.
Though uncomfortable, after more than an hour of sleep, they felt much more refreshed.
Yan Tinglin opened his eyes and saw the couple teasing the single men.
Rubbing his neck as he stood, he asked, “What time is it?”
Zhou Shiyi glanced at his watch: “7:35.”
Zhong Yi was sleeping deeply; no matter how loud they spoke, she wouldn’t wake.
Yan Tinglin complained, “Could you have a little mercy? It’s not even dawn yet, and you’re already tormenting me and Professor Shao.”
Zhou Shiyi replied, “Professor Shao has a girlfriend.”
Yan Tinglin looked surprised. “Since when?”
Regarding the girlfriend, Shao Jin An just smiled without answering.
He had only been with Ji Fanxing a few days and had met the family before officially dating—a reversed order.
She explained it was to show him that she wouldn’t accept an arranged marriage.
Shao Jin An asked, “So many people are chasing you, why don’t you consider any of them?”
Yan Tinglin stood to stretch his back and waist, motioning to the person in Zhou Shiyi’s arms and half-joking, “A girlfriend needs to be coaxed like that. I can’t even get anyone to coax me; I want to be coaxed myself. Tell me, which girl dating me wouldn’t just kick me away?”
Shao Jin An laughed, sensing his disinterest in romance, and didn’t press further.
They went to the duty room to wash up simply and sat down to eat the breakfast Zhou Shiyi had brought.
After a few bites, Tang Nuoyun arrived.
She had guessed Yan Tinglin would come early but hadn’t expected all three of them to have stayed overnight.
Yan Tinglin saw her carrying breakfast. “You could have eaten at the cafeteria first; what’s the rush?”
“I already ate, brought these for you guys,” Tang Nuoyun said, placing the food on the table.
She had packed two extra portions in case any colleagues missed breakfast.
“Did you find the problem?” she asked with concern.
Yan Tinglin opened the box of breakfast she brought and said, “Yes, we found it. You guys will optimize today and continue testing tomorrow.”
Tang Nuoyun nodded. “Okay. You, President Zhou, and Professor Shao should go rest. Leave it to us.”
“Will do after breakfast.”
Yan Tinglin opened one of the boxes. “What kind of pastry is this?” he asked, turning toward Tang Nuoyun.
She was hanging up her coat. “Which one?”
She had taken one of each type of breakfast from the tea restaurant, packed and brought it directly.
Before Yan Tinglin could describe it, Zhou Shiyi glanced and said, “Savory Yam Puff.”
Yan Tinglin was curious and tried a piece. “There’s a savory version of yam puff?”
Tang Nuoyun replied, “Yes. I didn’t like it at first, but after getting used to it, I found it more enduring than the sweet kind. President Zhou also thinks it’s good. Right, President Zhou?”
Zhou Shiyi nodded. “It’s really good. But later, because Zhong Yi minded, I stopped eating it.”
Tang Nuoyun and her boyfriend both liked savory yam puffs. The first time Zhou Shiyi ate with them was at a Hong Kong-style tea restaurant.
Not every restaurant had the savory kind, so he, like Yan Tinglin, had to ask what it was out of curiosity.
At this moment, the person in his arms stirred but didn’t open her eyes.
Zhong Yi hadn’t expected to wake in Zhou Shiyi’s arms; she was sitting sideways on his lap, wrapped in his black coat.
Being so intimate at home was one thing, but now there were other colleagues nearby.
She continued to feign sleep, planning to wait until they left before opening her eyes.
If Tang Nuoyun hadn’t mentioned the savory yam puff, she almost would have forgotten about it.
Now thinking back, even though the pastry was originally recommended to Zhou Shiyi by Zhang Nuoxu, she no longer minded.
It was just a pastry, and it happened to suit Zhou Shiyi’s taste.
Nothing more.
But at the time, she had cared deeply.
Just as Zhou Shiyi had cared about the commute, cared about his songs, cared about his commercials.
Because then, both she and Zhou Shiyi loved cautiously and with anxiety.
Now, when she thought of that arranged marriage, she felt no ripples.
And the daily commute between Kuncheng and the campus, he no longer paid attention to the ads on the mall’s big screen showing the route.
Only now did she truly understand what Zhong Jie had said: “What I mind has never been Yang Jiayuan as a person.”
What mattered was that Baba’s love for her hadn’t been passionate enough.
Now the love was enough, and Baba’s past had faded in Zhong Jie’s eyes.
It was hard to recall anymore.
Even if memories surfaced occasionally, they were just memories—without any waves.
A few days ago, Zhong Jie called, asking how she and Tang Nuoyun got along at work.
She reassured Zhong Jie that everything was fine. She often forgot that Tang Nuoyun was Yang Jiayuan’s daughter, thinking of her only as a collaborator.
“That’s good.”
Zhong Jie then spoke of the New Year’s visit to the old family home, where Baba held her hand every step of the way.
Grandma was understanding, telling Grandpa, “The third son is bringing someone home for the first time; be a little considerate and look elsewhere.”
Grandpa replied, “Where else can I look? If I’m not holding hands, I’m feeding fruit. Where else should my eyes go?”
Besides Baba and Ma holding hands, there must have been Dagang Ge and his wife.
Feeding fruit was harder to guess—maybe Auntie and Uncle? Or Cousin and his wife? Or some other Dagang Ge and his girlfriend.
Thankfully, she and Zhou Shiyi were working late that day and didn’t go.
Otherwise, Grandpa’s eyes would have had nowhere else to rest.
Thinking this, Zhong Yi grew sleepy again and nestled into Zhou Shiyi’s arms, drifting back to sleep.
She woke up in a hotel bed. It was already one in the afternoon.
That morning, Zhou Shiyi had brought her back from the debugging center; she vaguely remembered, knew he had carried her, and felt reassured enough to continue sleeping.
Zhong Yi took a hot bath and changed into clothes she had recently bought, feeling refreshed and alert.
Unlike the grogginess of the morning.
***
After lunch, she hurried to the laboratory building.
On the way, she sent Zhou Shiyi a message: [I’m up, have eaten, and I’m wearing the clothes you bought me today.]
She hadn’t shopped in six months; these clothes were bought by Zhou Shiyi some time ago.
Zhou Shiyi was in a video meeting and only replied: [OK]
The nighttime testing system had crashed, and Du was worried when he heard.
“Why did it crash? Is it another design error?”
He feared that a design flaw would mean all previous efforts were wasted.
Zhou Shiyi said, “We found the problem and are fixing it. Testing will resume normally tomorrow.”
“That’s good, but don’t relax,” Du said. “Hope testing goes smoothly.”
The nighttime test went smoothly, marking the first of several major hurdles overcome.
The first one was the toughest; once crossed, there would be confidence to continue.
Du sipped his tea. “You don’t know how much pressure I’m under.”
At first, the Group Board of Directors completely opposed bringing in outside help, especially Shao Jin An’s team, citing high costs.
The board thought it cheaper to hire more people for the original Kuncheng technical team—half the cost of introducing Shao Jin An’s team.
But Zhou Shiyi insisted on inviting them, and Du supported him, withstanding board pressure.
When he heard the system had crashed during the night test, his heart sank.
Zhou Shiyi said, “Autonomous driving must guarantee safety. Right now, the only team I trust is Professor Shao’s.”
Regarding the added cost, he paused and reminded Du, “Remember why Kuncheng initially sought cooperation with Jinghe?”
Du was momentarily stunned—it had been almost a year.
The initial talks were in March last year, when Zhou Shiyi hadn’t yet agreed to take over Kuncheng, and the two companies had just decided to join forces.
How could he forget why they cooperated with Jinghe?
“To reduce the training energy consumption of the autonomous driving model by 50%.”
That was an impossible goal.
Though Kuncheng proposed a 50% reduction, the contract lowered it to 30%.
Even a 30% reduction would save tens of billions in training costs for Kuncheng Motors.
Zhou Shiyi continued, “In these months, Zhong Yi has saved 35.13% of training costs on the large model.”
He signaled Zhan Liang to project the data.