Tears rolled down, falling onto his wrist. Zhou Hui used his finger to wipe away her tears. “If you keep crying, I’ll have to cry with you.”

Ji Tong couldn’t help but laugh through her tears. “Then go ahead and cry.”

Zhou Hui smeared her tears onto his own eyes, his eyelashes coated with moisture, looking particularly pitiful. Ji Tong pinched his face. “That doesn’t count.”

Zhou Hui grasped her fingers and said seriously, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Then… where should we go first?”

The corners of Zhou Hui’s lips curved upward, his eyes overflowing with joy. He picked her up and spun her around twice. After stopping, he planted a deep kiss on her neck. “To the place where we first met.”

“On the mountain? We won’t be able to find it now.”

Zhou Hui released her. “How do you know?”

“I went looking for it.”

“When?”

“When I was eighteen, in winter. I went again when I was twenty-nine, but still couldn’t find it.”

“Has it changed that much?”

“It’s completely different. I couldn’t recognize that mountain anymore.”

“After so many years, that’s to be expected.” Zhou Hui wound a strand of her hair around his finger. “But I’ll definitely be able to find it.”

Ji Tong hugged his waist, resting her chin on his chest. “Yes, young master.”

Just as Zhou Hui was about to kiss her, a young lady in a blue dress knocked on the wooden post by the door and peeked her head in. “Excuse me, sir, everything is ready.”

“Good.”

Zhou Hui took her hand and led her to the rooftop. Along the way, many peonies had been placed, filling the air with their elegant, subtle fragrance. Several pink and white ones were arranged on the dining table, with a few petals blown by the wind scattered on the ground.

Ji Tong was somewhat surprised. “You didn’t arrange all this, did you?”

Zhou Hui stopped with her in front of a cluster of flowers. “There are many peonies at your house, so I thought you must really like them.”

“I don’t have a favorite flower. It’s just that they’re popular this season.”

Zhou Hui raised an eyebrow. “What should I do? I guessed wrong.”

Ji Tong bent down to touch them. “But from now on, they’ll be my favorite.”

“Isn’t your favorite me?” Zhou Hui pulled her into his embrace, gently biting her upper lip. “Who’s more beautiful, me or them?”

Ji Tong laughed helplessly, pushing his face away. “What man competes with flowers for beauty?”

“Me.”

Ji Tong met his gaze and for the first time truly understood what “eyes like autumn waters” meant. His eyes were too captivating, especially when they were filled with tender affection. They were different from the He Feng in her memory—his current gaze was purer, brighter. Ready to move you at any moment, making you fall completely.

Recently, hearing him talk about his childhood and family, she learned that these seventeen years he had grown up in a happy, warm, wealthy, and romantic environment—with loving parents and without worries. Perhaps it was these relatively short dozen years that could resist and heal the wounds his soul had once suffered.

A little childish, a little mischievous, a little elegant, a little romantic… Sometimes cold and aloof, sometimes silly and naive. Ji Tong thought that perhaps even without fate, without a previous life, she would definitely fall in love with such a boy.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Thinking about you.” Ji Tong stood on her tiptoes and nibbled at him. “I miss you so much.”

Zhou Hui picked her up and sat her on his lap in the chair, kissing her. After a long while, Ji Tong finally released him, her eyelids half-drooping, her nose rubbing against his cheek as she murmured, “I want to lie among the flowers and make love with you.”

Zhou Hui was slightly surprised—he hadn’t expected her to say something so direct. Looking at her hazy eyes, he felt somewhat overwhelmed for a moment. He looked around and pressed down his desire, saying in a low voice, “I’m afraid that won’t work.”

Seeing his serious expression, Ji Tong said, “I was just talking.”

Footsteps came from the stairway. Ji Tong got up and sat across from him. “What are we eating today?”

“I’ve lost my appetite. I want to go home.” Zhou Hui leaned forward, wanting to kiss her, but Ji Tong firmly pushed him back.

“Someone’s coming.”

Zhou Hui pursed his lips, sat up straight, cleared his throat twice, and returned to normal. When he saw the server coming to serve the dishes, he nodded politely. “Thank you.”

This meal was extremely perfunctory. Like completing a task, he took a few large bites of each dish before having it taken away.

When leaving, they passed by the piano in the corner. Ji Tong pulled him to stop. “Didn’t you say you were going to play piano for me?”

Zhou Hui had no mood for artistic pursuits whatsoever. Ever since Ji Tong had teased him like that, his body felt like it was on fire all evening, and it wouldn’t be extinguished. But seeing her expectant eyes, he decided to endure it a bit longer.

Zhou Hui sat down solemnly. “What would you like to hear?”

“Anything is fine.”

Zhou Hui lifted the keyboard cover and immediately launched into a rapid passage. It was too fast—Ji Tong couldn’t see the sequence of his jumping fingers at all. The piano music was so intense it made one feel urgent. In just half a minute, the sound came to an abrupt stop. Zhou Hui lowered his hands and smiled at her. “How was that?”

“Are you showing off your skills to me?”

“If I were showing off, I wouldn’t have played this piece.”

“The third movement.” Ji Tong held a peony and leaned against the piano, twirling a half-opened bud in her hand. “Moonlight Sonata.”

“Did you do your homework?”

“It’s very famous. I have common sense too.”

“Then listen carefully.” Zhou Hui turned back around and became serious. His slender fingers landed lightly on the keys with ease, accompanied by the most well-known first movement of this piece. Just as described in books: moonlight piercing through layers of clouds and mist, falling on the calm surface of a lake.

Ji Tong suddenly thought of the clear spring in the mountains, suddenly thought of the river water in Jinling. She couldn’t help feeling somewhat melancholy, but when she came back to her senses and saw him glowing under the lights, those sorrows gradually transformed into warm spring breezes, warming the cool lake water in the darkness. So sweet, yet so unreal.

Was this really her He Feng?

Ji Tong felt like she was dreaming again.

She tightly closed her eyes, then suddenly opened them. Fortunately, he was still there.

Zhou Hui noticed this little gesture of hers. His left hand didn’t stop, but his right hand took hers and had her sit over.

“I don’t know how.”

He changed position, placing her hand on top of his, then began playing lightly again. Ji Tong watched her own hand move gently on top of his fingers and laughed, “Have you charmed other little girls like this before? One trick after another.”

“Yes.”

Though it was normal, her heart still felt somewhat sour. “Do many girls chase after you?”

“Yes.”

“Then…” She still swallowed her words. No matter what, those were things of the past. Knowing more would only make her feel worse—better not to ask.

“That little girl had a bad temper, was stubborn, full of tricks, and even dared to hit me.” Zhou Hui didn’t look at her, just curved the corner of his lips. “She whipped me with a snake and made my face bloody.”

Hearing this, Ji Tong’s heart filled with joy. “So fierce.”

“She wasn’t ordinarily fierce.” Zhou Hui lifted his hand and helped her up. “You’re the first person to make me unable to finish a piece. Let’s go home.”

…

Ji Tong went out to handle her resignation matters and didn’t return until dark.

As soon as she opened the door, a wave of fragrance drifted out.

Seeing everything before her eyes, she was instantly stunned.

Candlelight bathed the room in warm yellow light. The table and floor were filled with peonies—whole flowers and scattered petals in white, pink, and yellow…

Zhou Hui approached her with a candlestick, tiptoeing to within two meters of her. The path by the door was too narrow, and with his tall frame, he was afraid of brushing against the flowers on both sides. He extended his hand toward Ji Tong. “Come here.”

Ji Tong closed the door and carefully walked in. “You… who did you learn all this from?”

“It’s innate.”

Ji Tong looked further inside—even the stairs and balcony were covered with flowers. “But this is too much.”

“Mm, the girls in this city must hate you to death. I bought all the peonies in the neighborhood.”

Ji Tong helplessly climbed onto his arm. “Then have you thought about how to deal with all these flowers? We can’t live like this.”

“After tonight, their mission will be complete. Tomorrow I’ll find someone to move them out and give them to passersby.”

Ji Tong laughed, touching her forehead gently to his chest. “You’re really wasting money.”

“If money can buy your happiness, then I’m willing to give everything. I can always earn it back anyway. But time and joy are things money can’t compare to, although many forms of happiness still depend on it.” Zhou Hui cupped her face. “I owe you too much—time, love, and companionship. In the past life, after death, and even now. I only hope that in this lifetime I can gradually make it up to you.”

“I don’t even know what to give you.”

“Simple.” Zhou Hui took off her coat. “Give me the rest of your life.” He picked her up. “Come on.”

“Come what?”

“What you said yesterday.”

Ji Tong played dumb. “Said what? I don’t remember.”

“You remember.”

“I don’t remember.”

Zhou Hui sighed and put her down. “Then forget it, let’s not do it.”

The moment her feet touched the ground, Ji Tong grabbed his shoulders and jumped onto his body. Zhou Hui was afraid she’d fall and quickly lifted his hands to catch her.

Ji Tong wrapped her arms around his neck. “Can’t let you work for nothing.”

Zhou Hui laughed. “Just say it directly if you want it.”

Ji Tong leaned close to his ear. “I want it.”

Zhou Hui carried her toward the sofa covered with flower petals. “You’re done for.”

“I haven’t showered!”

“I haven’t either.”

“Let’s shower first… mm…”

…