This was on the road to Shigatse. The car was stopped beside a low cliff. Ji Tong wanted to sleep in the tent, so Zhou Hui set it up right next to a gnarled, bare tree. Ji Tong pulled out the folding chairs and set them up, even lighting the kerosene lamp they’d found at an antique market a few days ago, and made a simple dinner.

After their meal, they lay resting at the tent entrance. It was cold here, especially at night, so both wore thick windbreakers. Zhou Hui sat while Ji Tong lay across his lap, covered with a deep red blanket they’d bought from an old grandmother’s handicraft stall in Golmud. It was embroidered with yellow and blue patterns, very intricate.

Zhou Hui had quickly learned to play the harmonica they’d bought at a small stall yesterday. Ji Tong nestled in his arms, had a little wine, and drowsily listened to him play melodies.

Her eyelids could barely hold up. Ji Tong was terribly sleepy, and soon mumbled unclearly, “He Feng.”

“Mm.”

Zhou Hui stopped and looked at her—she had already fallen asleep.

He put the harmonica aside, pulled the blanket up higher, watched her quietly for a while, then looked up at the starry sky.

…

The tent was a bit cold, so Zhou Hui still carried Ji Tong into the car.

In the morning, a ray of sunrise fell through the gaps in the car curtains onto her face, and Ji Tong woke up in his arms. She rarely woke before Zhou Hui, so she took the opportunity to admire his sleeping face for quite a while.

Zhou Hui breathed very lightly and slept very properly, lying on his side, looking well-behaved. It made one couldn’t help wanting to cherish him.

Ji Tong secretly kissed his Adam’s apple, quietly got up, and carefully stepped outside the car, stretching greatly in the warm sunshine. She walked forward a few steps and looked toward the distant mountains wrapped in thick clouds, like a plump girl wearing a fluffy skirt, particularly adorable.

Another beautiful day.

“A’Zhi.”

Ji Tong looked over at the sound. Zhou Hui was sleepy-eyed, his hair messy with one tuft here and another sticking up there. The sunlight fell on his white sweater, dyeing it a warm pale yellow.

She smiled and walked over, entering his embrace. Zhou Hui planted a kiss on her forehead and asked, “What are you smiling foolishly about?”

“Thinking that I can see you every morning when I wake up in the future makes me feel very happy.”

Zhou Hui inserted his hands through her temples, cupped her head and leaned down to kiss her. “I want to tie you to my body.”

“Then let’s buy handcuffs.”

Zhou Hui was silent for a moment, then asked in a light tone, “Do you regret sinking into the Huangpu River with me?”

Ji Tong didn’t hesitate. “Although it left a shadow, even if you took me to jump again now, I’d still follow you.”

Zhou Hui lifted her horizontally and carried her back into the car. “We won’t jump anymore—come to heaven with me.”

…

Coming out of Tashilhunpo Monastery, Ji Tong and Zhou Hui encountered several passing border guards.

Zhou Hui’s gaze lingered on them several times. After they’d walked far away, he said to Ji Tong, “You’ve never seen me in military uniform, have you?”

“You wore one in Nanjing.”

“That was all torn and shapeless, covered in blood.”

Ji Tong was momentarily speechless—he even remembered such details.

“What a pity, I never let you see me properly dressed in military uniform, and no photos were left behind.”

“I can imagine—devastatingly handsome.”

Zhou Hui showed a faint smile, turned to look again in the direction the soldiers had left—they could no longer be seen. His mood was somewhat complex, and he had to admit that no matter how much time passed, that was still where his heart belonged.

“Do you want to join the military?”

She could always see right through him. Zhou Hui put his arm around her shoulders. “I won’t go. Now you are my world.”

…

From cities to wilderness, from desert to snowy mountains, from June to September—they traveled north, south, east, and west, experiencing a complete “four seasons.”

Zhou Xin burst into laughter the moment she saw Ji Tong, having never seen her daughter tanned like this. Even though she naturally had cool-toned fair skin, it couldn’t withstand months of wind and sun exposure. However, this skin tone actually looked much healthier.

Ji Tong stayed with Zhou Xin and grandmother for two weeks, then followed Zhou Hui to Canada.

Zhou Zhengrong and Yu Na waited at the farm entrance with two big dogs circling around them. As soon as they saw their little master return, the Golden Retriever wiggled its big bottom and frantically jumped up, so happy it could almost talk. Zhou Hui crouched down to hug it. “Fatty, you’ve gotten fat again.”

The Czechoslovakian Wolfdog warily sniffed Ji Tong, then immediately licked Zhou Hui’s face. He pushed the dog’s head away. “Saliva—”

Yu Na ran over happily.

Ji Tong greeted her. “Auntie.”

Yu Na directly embraced her. “Baby, I finally get to meet you.”

Ji Tong hadn’t expected her to be so affectionate right away. She lifted her arms to hug her back, then looked at Zhou Zhengrong walking over slowly. “Uncle, hello.”

Zhou Zhengrong smiled joyfully. “You must be tired. Come inside and rest first.”

Yu Na released Ji Tong and went to hug Zhou Hui. “Why did you get so much darker?” She squeezed Zhou Hui’s arm. “And more solid too.”

Zhou Hui smiled. “Don’t I look more handsome?”

Yu Na looked him over carefully and said with satisfaction, “More manly.” She turned to Ji Tong and linked arms with her. “Let’s go, daughter-in-law.”

…

Zhou Hui’s home looked very warm from the outside—an all-wooden villa farmhouse sitting on vast lawns with an irregular wooden fence encircling it, backed by a large forest. Besides the two big dogs, there were also three small sheepdogs and a Siamese cat. Zhou Zhengrong and Yu Na were also very lively and easygoing, unlike some wealthy families with many rules. The two had no parental airs at all and were more like friends to get along with.

After dinner, they sat in a circle on the carpet drinking and chatting. The topics weren’t limited to art—from literature to technology, from mountains and rivers to stars, from cats and dogs to relationships between the sexes…

Only now did Ji Tong learn that Zhou Hui didn’t just play piano—he also played bass, violin, saxophone, and drummed quite impressively. He had won many trophies, had his first public performance at six, composed his first piano piece at seven, and had participated in countless concerts… And these two parents who looked ordinary and low-key had even greater achievements.

Yu Na was playing the cello, Zhou Zhengrong was playing piano, Zhou Hui sat with Ji Tong with a bass in his arms. Not far away a window was open, and the gauze curtain was gently lifted by the wind, bringing cool evening breezes. Several dogs lay sleeping on the floor, and the room was filled with moving ensemble music.

She absolutely loved this kind of environment.

…

Late at night, Zhou Zhengrong carried Yu Na back to their room to rest, and Zhou Hui took Ji Tong out for a walk.

The night sky here was also beautiful.

Ji Tong sat on a swing while Zhou Hui stood beside her gently pushing.

To one side was a large area of small wooden buildings that Ji Tong kept staring at.

Zhou Hui said, “Dad made it for Mom—it’s called the Fairy’s Secret Garden.”

“So cute.”

“Mom is still like a little girl at her age because Dad spoils her too much.”

“So you inherited your romanticism from Uncle.”

“Wasn’t I romantic before?”

“Romantic enough to chase me with a slingshot.”

Zhou Hui laughed. “I was immature then.” He grabbed the swing ropes to stop the swaying. “Let’s go rest. Tomorrow I’ll show you around properly.”

“Okay.”

Their room had been tidied up with a larger canopy wooden bed hung with lace curtains on all sides. The bedding was pink with rose petals scattered on top.

Ji Tong found it rather exaggerated. “This is too…”

“It’s Mom’s doing again. She probably thinks it’s very romantic.”

“…It is quite romantic.”

Zhou Hui held her and laughed. “I almost forgot—you also like this style.”

Ji Tong broke away from him and slipped away. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Zhou Hui pointed inside. “Over there.”

Ji Tong whooshed in. “I’m taking a shower.”

…

Breakfast was bread, eggs, and milk. On his first meal back, Zhou Hui desperately missed his homeland’s tofu pudding.

He looked at the milk before him with complete lack of appetite.

Yu Na was still sleeping. Zhou Zhengrong drove over in a green four-wheeler from the distance.

Ji Tong called out “Good morning.”

Zhou Zhengrong stopped beside her. “Sleep well?”

“Pretty well.” Ji Tong looked at the bucket in his car. “Need help?”

“No need, workers will come later. Have Zhou Hui show you around.”

Zhou Hui came from behind leading a horse, and as he approached, he sniffed. “You smoked again.”

“Just one a day.”

“Don’t let me catch you again.”

“Okay, okay.” Zhou Zhengrong quickly drove off in his four-wheeler. “You two go have fun.”

Zhou Hui handed the black horse’s reins to Ji Tong, then mounted a white horse, arrogantly looking down at Ji Tong with a provocative smile. “Come chase me.”

Without waiting for her to mount, Zhou Hui had already galloped away.

“You’re cheating!” Ji Tong quickly mounted her horse.

The two raced across the grassland one after the other, heading toward the morning sun.

…

Zhou Hui played with Ji Tong for two days. For the next half month or so, he spent most of his time practicing piano. In early October, the concert tour officially began. Accompanying him were a cellist and violinist, plus a personal activity manager.

The first stop was Montreal.

Zhou Hui had been modest with Ji Tong—he wasn’t just the “somewhat famous” he claimed to be. The packed theater made this clear.

Ji Tong sat below, looking up at Zhou Hui on stage. His straight suit stripped away much of his youthful air, filling him with mature charm and elegant sensuality.

Ji Tong couldn’t focus on his music. Not because the melody wasn’t moving enough, but because her eyes, heart, and entire mind were occupied by his appearance, leaving no room for any sound to enter.

From May until now, they had been together for so long—long enough to match all the time they’d been able to spend together in their previous life of ten years. Yet occasionally Ji Tong still felt the beauty was somewhat unreal.

The performance ended, and applause rang out.

Zhou Hui stood and bowed. The stage lights fell on him, and he became the only light in the endless black night and her small world.

…

This concert tour continued intermittently until early spring before finally ending completely.

When there were no performances, Zhou Hui would take Ji Tong around nearby cities and introduced her to many friends from various countries.

When the weather got warmer, they returned to China. Zhou Hui bought a Chinese-style courtyard, had it simply renovated, and began preparing for their wedding.

Their wedding had no cars, no suits or wedding dress.

Red sedan chair, festive robes, tall horses.

Unlike modern weddings, Zhou Hui didn’t come to fetch the bride until four in the afternoon. Seeing off her daughter to the sedan chair, Zhou Xin cried until she was a mess, nearly unable to stand. Grandmother supported her, also shedding tears. “On this joyous day, we promised to hold back, but once you cry, I want to cry too.”

Gongs and drums resounded, with music and fanfare all along the route.

The courtyard was decorated with lanterns and colored streamers, red lanterns hung everywhere, red candles lit. There weren’t many guests—all very close friends.

The groomsmen also wore Republican-era clothing, handing red silk to the couple to hold as they stepped over braziers and entered the main gate…

The ceremony was held in the main hall. Zhou Zhengrong and Yu Na sat at the front while the groomsmen led the newlyweds in.

Bow to heaven and earth, bow to parents, husband and wife bow to each other.

Serve tea and change forms of address, then retire to the bridal chamber.

The bridal chamber was arranged quite elaborately with many bottles, jars, fruits, peanuts, dried longans, lotus seeds, and such. On a low table was spread an embroidered marriage certificate that read:

Today the red string binds us, pearls and jade unite. Divining future years of white-haired companionship, fragrant as osmanthus and orchid.

After the evening banquet ended, suddenly there was commotion outside the bridal chamber. Ji Tong heard Zhou Hui’s voice, probably telling his friends not to disturb the bridal chamber.

Ji Tong wore a bright red jacket and skirt with a phoenix crown on her head. She replaced her head covering and sat properly on the bedside.

The noise gradually disappeared, followed by the sound of the door opening and his footsteps. Because he wore felt shoes, his steps were much lighter than usual.

Zhou Hui locked the door behind him and looked from afar at the bride sitting on the bed. The scene he had imagined for over a hundred years had finally come true, yet he was so nervous he could hardly contain himself—even his fingertips trembled uncontrollably.

Ji Tong heard him standing at the door. “How long are you going to stand there?”

Zhou Hui came to his senses and walked over slowly, using the ceremonial scale to lift the red veil. Ji Tong looked up at him. He wore a jacket and long robe, black on top and red below, with red silk draped diagonally across his shoulders. He was even more elegant and distinguished than she had imagined.

Zhou Hui sat beside her. “A’Zhi.”

“Mm.”

He smiled and called again, “A’Zhi.”

“Yes.”

Zhou Hui felt a surge of bitterness in his heart, his eyes reddening. He suppressed his sadness while maintaining his smile. “A’Zhi.”

“I’m here, young master.”

Zhou Hui took her hand. “Call me that again.”

“Young master.”

He pressed her into his arms, on the verge of tears. Only after controlling his emotions did he release her. “Have you been sitting this whole time?”

“Yes, I’m so tired.” She leaned against his shoulder. “I waited for you so long.”

“Those bastards kept forcing me to drink.”

This sentence instantly broke her down. Ji Tong’s tears welled up without warning. Zhou Hui cupped her face, wiping away the tears with his fingertips. “Eighty people couldn’t easily carry a sedan chair—what I promised you couldn’t come true, but counting all the people who came to fetch you, there were eighty total.”

“It was just a joke—you actually took my eighty-bearer sedan seriously.”

“Of course.” Zhou Hui raised an eyebrow. “Actually, operationally it wouldn’t be very difficult, just wouldn’t look good, and with all the tall buildings, it would be hard to turn corners.”

Ji Tong broke into laughter through her tears, catching his large palm and interlacing their fingers. “Do you remember what you said to me in Nanjing, in the bombed second floor of the qipao shop, the night you secretly ran away?”

Of course he remembered.

“All these years I often have a dream.”

[All these years I often have a dream. I dream that when you and I get married, all four mountain peaks and nine small villages come to celebrate. Tables are set all the way down to the foot of the mountain, wine spilled everywhere. Those bastards keep forcing me to drink. You wait for me in the room. I get drunk and fall into your arms. You lift the red veil and smile at me, saying I should drink less and not be disobedient. Looking at your little face made rosy by the wedding dress, your little mouth painted red like a ripe mountain peach, I can’t help wanting to kiss you. Every time I’m about to kiss you, I wake up.]

Ji Tong buried her head in his arms.

But what he didn’t know was that after he told her this that day, such scenes also often appeared in her dreams.

What she dreamed was:

[No war, the people in the village still alive. When you and I get married, all four mountain peaks and nine small villages come to celebrate. Tables are set all the way down to the mountain, wine spilled everywhere. Those bastards keep forcing you to drink. I wait for you in the room. You get drunk and fall into my arms. I lift the red veil and smile at you, saying if you don’t come soon, I’ll escape down the mountain. Looking at your handsome face made rosy by the wedding clothes, your mouth also ruddy like a half-ripe mountain peach, I can’t help wanting to stay. Every time I want to take the chance to run away, I feel reluctant to leave you.]

Zhou Hui pushed her away, looked at her red little mouth, touched his nose to hers, and gently kissed her lips.

“A’Zhi, my dream has come true.”

…