The two hugged for a long while before separating. Xu Sui and Hu Qianxi simply sat together, close beside each other.

Xu Sui patted her head, smiling: “I messaged Liang Shuang. She’s stuck in traffic but will be here soon.”

“Okay.” Hu Qianxi responded.

While waiting for the dishes, Xu Sui and Hu Qianxi sat together, occasionally whispering to each other, their smiling eyes filled with nothing but each other.

Completely ignoring the two grown men sitting across from them.

Zhou Jingze and Sheng Nanzhou exchanged glances, with the former speaking first, raising his brow bone:

“Tsk, did you forget there are two living, breathing men sitting across from you?”

Hu Qianxi finally turned her attention over, feigning displeasure: “Uncle, how can you be so petty? I’m just borrowing your girlfriend for one evening—are you afraid she’ll run away?”

Zhou Jingze chuckled lowly, pouring tea for Hu Qianxi, his tone leisurely and meaningful: “My wife can’t run away. I’m just worried about someone getting jealous.”

This “someone” was quite obvious. Hu Qianxi used drinking tea to cover her expression, laughing it off: “Stop talking nonsense!”

Soon after, Liang Shuang burst into the private room wearing sunglasses on her high-bridged nose and carrying a crocodile leather handbag. She was about to curse the traffic situation when she locked eyes with Hu Qianxi in her seat, her words catching in her throat.

Because she was too thin—heartbreakingly thin.

Noticing Liang Shuang’s expression change, Hu Qianxi stood up with open arms, smiling: “Don’t you dare get sentimental on me. That’s not like you at all, Shuang-shuang.”

One sentence dispersed the previously subtle melancholy atmosphere. The sadness on Liang Shuang’s face disappeared completely. She lifted her chin like a queen, reluctantly hugging Hu Qianxi before scolding her:

“Look at yourself, so shabby. Is this still the Miss Xixi who was refined from head to toe, even her fingernails?”

Hu Qianxi grinned, her eyes crinkling: “I’m always running around outside, so dressing like this is more convenient. I’ve gotten used to it.”

At the dinner table, everyone’s conversation revolved around Hu Qianxi alone—after all, she was today’s main character. Hu Qianxi generously shared her experiences from these years in the international wildlife rescue organization.

“You don’t know, I once rescued an injured little lamb at the foot of a volcano, and the local people gave it to me. I named it Xixi.” Hu Qianxi held a chopstick, her eyes dancing with spirit under the lights.

Xu Sui was immediately captivated: “Do you have photos? Let me see.”

“Yes, I do.” Hu Qianxi took out her phone to show her pictures.

“Another time, oh my, it was a local horse racing competition. I was supposed to be a veterinarian treating small animals, but they were short a competitor and grabbed me at the last minute. They said it was a domesticated horse, very docile. But as soon as I got on, the horse kicked me and I lost immediately. Everyone burst into laughter and forgot about the race.” Hu Qianxi found it amusing remembering it herself.

“Hahaha, I would have laughed at you too.”

Sheng Nanzhou sat across from them. When Hu Qianxi shared this story, his brow furrowed, his hand on the wine glass unconsciously tightening, but ultimately he said nothing.

Because of Hu Qianxi’s return, everyone happily drank. Liang Shuang, drunk by the end, hiccupped and put her arm around Hu Qianxi’s neck, her tone intoxicated: “Girl, your life experiences are so rich. What about your personal romantic life?”

Hu Qianxi had also been drinking. She put her arm around Liang Shuang’s shoulder, covering her face while laughing: “Where would I have time? Even when I have free time to go out, others would dislike the smell of cow and elephant dung on me.”

“Actually there isn’t any. Smell me—I’m fragrant!”

Hu Qianxi leaned against Liang Shuang, rolling up her sleeve to expose her wrist, bringing it to Liang Shuang’s nose.

Liang Shuang pretended to smell it, deliberately teasing: “Shit-scented perfume—whose toilet wasn’t flushed?”

As soon as the words fell, Hu Qianxi immediately grabbed Liang Shuang’s throat and gave her a beating.

Xu Sui thought that time really could change a person. Hu Qianxi used to live delicately and fastidiously, unable to endure any hardship—a proper spoiled young lady.

Now she dressed simply, living alone abroad under sun and wind, occasionally hearing gunshots, yet still finding joy in hardship.

The only things unchanged were her vitality and brilliant smile.

And their friendship.

After several rounds of drinks, restaurant staff came to remind them they had ten minutes until closing. The neon lights on the street had also gone out.

The group said their goodbyes on the street.

After the others left, only Hu Qianxi and Sheng Nanzhou remained.

Hu Qianxi felt uncomfortable from drinking, leaning against a streetlamp pole with her head down in discomfort.

Sheng Nanzhou walked over, handing her a tissue, his brow furrowed:

“Didn’t I text you not to drink? With your condition—”

Hu Qianxi accepted the tissue and wiped her mouth, her eyes glistening with moisture, appearing gentle and lovely under the lights.

“I was just happy. Nanzhou-ge, haven’t you nagged me enough since childhood?”

Sheng Nanzhou smiled, ruffled her hair, turned his back, and crouched down in front of Hu Qianxi.

“What?” Hu Qianxi looked puzzled.

“I’ll carry you on my back.” Sheng Nanzhou’s voice was light.

“Alright!” Hu Qianxi jumped on, her arms unconsciously wrapping around his neck.

Sheng Nanzhou’s hands held her legs, bouncing her up slightly, his handsome brow furrowing.

She was too thin—weighing practically nothing.

“Xixi, don’t leave this time. What if your condition gets worse—”

Hu Qianxi interrupted, her voice still crisp: “Don’t worry, this young lady has great fortune and a strong life. I’ve made it through all these years.”

Also, I won’t leave. I want to spend more time with you all.

Hu Qianxi lay on Sheng Nanzhou’s broad shoulders, arms around his neck, silently thinking to herself.

“I’m worried.” Sheng Nanzhou continued his earlier words.

The night was gentle, wind making the leaves rustle. It was just a bit cold. Hu Qianxi, lying on Sheng Nanzhou’s back, afraid of making him cold, rubbed her hands together and covered his ears.

Warmth came over him. Sheng Nanzhou’s whole body stiffened, his ears quickly burning as he continued walking forward with Hu Qianxi, acting as if nothing happened.

“When you were eating earlier, you mentioned being kicked by the horse during the race. Did it hurt?” Sheng Nanzhou asked, his tone pausing.

Sheng Nanzhou’s low voice reached Hu Qianxi’s ears through the wind, and her eyes suddenly felt a bit sour.

Earlier, everyone was attracted to her funny story. Only Sheng Nanzhou asked if it hurt.

“It hurt. I still have a scar on my waist, but I have thick skin, so it only hurt for a while and healed quickly. Hehe.” Hu Qianxi pinched his ear.

Sheng Nanzhou continued carrying her forward. Hu Qianxi suddenly remembered something, her mood becoming somewhat low:

“Nanzhou-ge, you really don’t have to take care of me.”

Sheng Nanzhou’s steps paused as he carried her, his lowered eyelashes revealing a hint of smile as he said seriously:

“I do it willingly.”

Because of Hu Qianxi’s return, Xu Sui was happy all evening, so much so that she was completely unprepared when Zhou Jingze followed her inside.

She stood in the entryway. It wasn’t until the door lock made a “click” sound that Xu Sui sensed something wrong. Startled, an oppressive shadow fell over her.

Xu Sui looked up, her neck feeling a tickling, numbing pain.

“Hiss, what are you doing… ah?” Xu Sui couldn’t quite handle his advances.

Zhou Jingze pressed against her from behind, his fingers deftly reaching over. Before long, Xu Sui’s long hair fell loose, a hair tie somehow ending up on his wrist.

“What do you think? I was ignored all evening.” Zhou Jingze narrowed his eyes in displeasure.

The man was close, their bodies pressed tightly together. He reached out to turn Xu Sui’s face, his rough thumb caressing her lips with slow movements.

Xu Sui only felt her throat dry as she explained: “It’s just that I hadn’t seen Xixi for so long.”

“You also haven’t seen your boyfriend for two days.”

Xu Sui thought he was being completely unreasonable.

Zhou Jingze gripped her chin, bending down to kiss her. He kissed with passion and seriousness.

First touching lips, then dissatisfiedly biting her lip.

Xu Sui opened her mouth in pain, her lips and teeth pried apart, drawn out and repeatedly sucked, like tasting a fresh peach, with slow movements.

Xu Sui unconsciously clutched his shirt. With each inch he kissed deeper, she gripped harder.

Zhou Jingze found it troublesome and simply swept her up, placing her on the table.

Xu Sui was kissed dizzy, his fingers pressing the tender soft flesh behind her ear, slowly caressing.

But his body heat was warm while the table was ice-cold—alternating fire and ice.

Xu Sui’s heart trembled.

Warm overhead light fell on the man’s dark eyes, shadows covering her.

Xu Sui broke out in sweat. Zhou Jingze kissed her while using his incredibly low voice to coax her:

“Xixi also said tonight—Xu Sui, when are you planning to give me a proper status?”

Xu Sui’s voice was hoarse: “What status? Haven’t you always been… my boyfriend?”

Zhou Jingze dissatisfiedly bit her earlobe, then licked it, speaking word by word:

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m asking when you’ll change boyfriend to husband, hmm?” Zhou Jingze stopped, his thumb pressing her forehead as he looked at her.

Xu Sui turned her face away uncomfortably. After thinking, she smiled:

“Let me consider it.”

Zhou Jingze chuckled softly, carrying her toward the bedroom.

Xu Sui’s black hair swept his neck, making his throat itch. He somewhat roughly threw her onto the bed.

Xu Sui instinctively tried to escape, but a hand with distinct knuckles grabbed her slender foot and pulled her underneath him.

“Think slowly. After all, I’ve waited all these years anyway.” Zhou Jingze’s voice was low and hoarse.

The next day, Xu Sui woke up sore all over, lying on the bed unable to move.

The space beside her was already empty. Zhou Jingze had left a note by the bed.

Xu Sui sat up, the blanket sliding off. She picked it up and read that he had gone out on business and left breakfast in the kitchen.

Xu Sui dawdled in bed for a long time before getting up. After washing up, just as she was about to eat, her mother sent a message: 【Aunt Wang introduced you to a good prospect. When are you free to take a look?】

Xu Sui’s eyelashes paused. She actually hadn’t told her mother about dating, much less that her boyfriend was Zhou Jingze.

But… it was him, right? Xu Sui thought.

She wanted to keep going with him.

Thinking this, Xu Sui typed in the chat box: 【Mom, I’m dating someone.】

As soon as the message was sent, her mother called.

Xu Sui didn’t want to answer, afraid she couldn’t handle it, so she declined and quickly replied: 【I’m working overtime. Just send me messages about anything.】

Her mother sent a message: 【I’m buying a train ticket for tomorrow to come meet your boyfriend.】

【Ah? It’s year-end, we’ve both been super busy lately. How about after some time passes—I’ll bring him home to meet you during New Year.】 Xu Sui quickly discouraged her.

Only then did her mother stop mentioning meeting her boyfriend. After a while, she asked again:

【How old is he? What does he do?】

Xu Sui’s eyelid twitched as she carefully organized her words and laid groundwork:

【He’s a year older than me. His profession… might be different from the stable job you want me to find in a boyfriend. But I’m a doctor, so it’s similar—when busy, we even sleep at work.】

【What does he do then?】

Xu Sui hesitated, then typed three characters: 【Pilot.】

After sending this message, there was no further response from the other side.

Zhou Jingze hadn’t expected his former employer Dongzhao to suddenly contact him.

Leader Zhang Chengzhi suggested meeting outside, so Zhou Jingze agreed.

Old Zhang arranged to meet near Crow River Square. When Zhou Jingze arrived, Old Zhang wore a brown cotton coat, wrapped in a thick scarf, holding a paper bag of bread while sitting on a bench feeding pigeons in the square.

Nothing like his usual serious image in suits leading team reports at Dongzhao.

Zhou Jingze walked over, sat beside him, took out a pack of cigarettes, tore off the plastic film, and shook out a cigarette for him.

Old Zhang smiled and accepted it, lighting it first.

“What did you want to see me about, Old Zhang?”

“The real results of your case came out. Li Haoning came forward to confess, spilling everything about the threats he received and what he did. The company has formally sued Gao Yang and Li Haoning, currently going through legal procedures.” Old Zhang coughed and said.

Zhou Jingze was stunned, his finger tapping the lighter as he asked casually: “Why did Li Haoning suddenly dare to come forward?”

“Heard the pressure was too much. His mother also learned about it and refused to use that money for treatment anymore. Most importantly, he felt guilty toward you.”

Zhou Jingze chuckled without responding. After the truth came to light, he didn’t feel much emotional fluctuation.

How to put it? He knew justice would come eventually.

Old Zhang patted Zhou Jingze’s shoulder, letting out a long breath: “The company will issue a clarification statement for you, apologize to the industry, and hire you back with triple salary. You’re still Dongzhao Aviation’s top pilot. How about it, Captain Zhou?”

Zhou Jingze was lighting his cigarette when his hand slipped at these words, the brief flame burning his thumb web.

He continued lighting the cigarette, took a drag, exhaled, smiled, and flicked ash:

“No thanks, planning to do something else.”

Old Zhang was stunned, patting him: “Really? You’re willing to change careers?”

“Not really. My university teacher sent an invitation,” Zhou Jingze took the cigarette from his mouth, pausing, “National Zhonghai Transportation Ministry Rescue Team.”

He’d still be flying planes in the future, just changing from jets to helicopters, becoming part of an aerial rescue team—more dangerous, with greater responsibilities.

Old Zhang was stunned, then smiled: “That’s great, kid. I knew I didn’t need to worry about you. With your excellent record, you’ll shine anywhere.”

“But how did you decide to go there?”

Though both belonged to the blue sky, different departments meant different responsibilities.

Flight rescue was not only dangerous but carried greater social responsibility—essentially entrusting your life to the country.

Zhou Jingze turned his head thoughtfully, took a drag, his tone slow: “My girl has doubts about this society and her chosen profession. I just want to tell her.”

“This world is still good.”

Even if times are terrible, we still have our principles. Whether mediocre or great, we guard ourselves.

Old Zhang immediately understood. He seemed to remember something: “Your girlfriend? Is she the one named Xu Sui? She wrote many complaint letters to the company, begging us to investigate thoroughly, saying you definitely weren’t that kind of person. Her emails even attached your past achievements and honors… I don’t know where she found so much information about you.”

“Wasn’t that unnecessary? We old-timers know your past.”

Zhou Jingze’s pupils contracted, ash falling as his tone slowed: “When did she send you emails?”

“Let me think… seems like shortly after you went to the base as an instructor.” Old Zhang recalled.

This timing meant when they hadn’t made up yet, when everyone was mocking and cursing him, giving him cold looks, framing and mistreating him, when he seemed like a stray dog.

Only Xu Sui believed he wasn’t like that, silently doing these things behind the scenes, hoping he could one day return to the sky.

“This girl is really good. I heard she looked for Li Haoning several times,” Old Zhang sighed. “You’re truly blessed, kid, finding such a good girl. You must hold onto her.”

“But this goes both ways—you both cherish each other—” Old Zhang was commenting when…

Zhou Jingze suddenly stood up, stubbed out his cigarette, and said hoarsely:

“Old Zhang, I have something to do. I’ll go first.”

Zhou Jingze returned to his car, started it, accelerated all the way, eyes sharp, foot on the gas pedal flying toward Amber Lane.

Zhou Jingze ran up to the second floor, pushed open the music room where they used to rehearse, and dragged out a box from the corner.

A paper cutter opened the dusty box. Zhou Jingze kept searching through the basketful of love letters and gifts from his youth until he found a dusty record.

It was a Mayday album he liked: “God’s Children Are Dancing”

At the same time, an expired ointment tube and finger guards fell out.

He now knew this gift was from Xu Sui.

In university, when Sheng Nanzhou found her gift, Zhou Jingze had said casually in front of everyone:

“So many people give me gifts—do I have to think about each one individually?”

This sentence shattered a young girl’s dream.

Opening the sealed album, a bookmark fell to the ground with a “snap.”

Zhou Jingze picked it up. On the back of the bookmark was a sentence written in a girl’s beautiful handwriting, each stroke careful and serious:

You are my unreachable fantasy. I hope you are loved for life, frivolous and magnanimous, forever upright.