Once the person beside him had settled into even breathing, after a moment of silence, Xu Xingchun slowly opened his eyes.

In the darkness, he quietly gazed at her sleeping silhouette. His consciousness was crystal clear, without a trace of drowsiness.

He loved listening to her heartbeat and breathing, her warm body temperature within reach.

He was just afraid that after waking from this dream, opening his eyes would reveal it was all his own imagination again.

Hugging the soft pillow, Fu Xueli tossed and turned all night, sleeping heavily. Her sleeping posture was terrible—the blanket wrapped around her body with her arms and legs dangling halfway off.

Sprawled on the mattress, she was sleeping groggily when she heard a phone ring. Still thick with sleep, she made a soft sound, somewhat impatient at being disturbed, and urged in a delicate, hoarse voice, “Xu Xingchun… answer the phone, it’s so noisy.”

Then she changed positions and continued sleeping.

After a while, the phone on the cabinet started vibrating again, buzzing noisily.

Fu Xueli’s eyes snapped open. It took her a few seconds to become fully awake. She grabbed her phone and saw the caller ID, paused for several seconds, then turned over and sat up, patting her face to wake herself up. With a shameless “I’m a rogue, who am I afraid of” mentality, she answered Tang Xin’s video call.

“Fu Xueli, are you dead?! Where have you been hiding lately in some godforsaken place where I can’t reach you? I’ve packed your schedule full, and you’re still off enjoying yourself?!”

Fu Xueli was quite drowsy, wearing thick teddy bear pajamas. “I’m on vacation, sister.”

The two indeed hadn’t been able to connect for many days. Fu Xueli felt a headache coming on. She’d been living too carefree and happy recently, isolated from the world, almost forgetting she was the glamorous, stunning movie star on the giant posters in shopping malls.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you in a bad mood?” Fu Xueli sensed something was off with Tang Xin.

This question successfully diverted Tang Xin’s attention and fire.

Wrapped in her blanket, lying sideways on the bed while video chatting with Tang Xin, Fu Xueli heard cursing in her earphones. “That stinking bitch—she just showed her face in Fang Nan’s music video before, and I’ll find someone to destroy her in a while. Trying to steal my man—I’ll make sure she regrets it.”

Tang Xin and her current boyfriend had fought countless battles over the years, breaking up and getting back together. Fu Xueli had met that man and only knew he worked in investment banking—a veteran player in the dating scene who liked to play around with college girls.

Tang Xin took a gulp of alcohol and choked, tears and snot flowing. The Italian chandelier above her head shone blindingly.

She had always been a glamorous, elegant woman, skilled at scheming and calculation, but now she held a cigarette in one hand, her makeup smeared on her face—she’d obviously cried her heart out.

So disheveled, like a brainless fool.

Fu Xueli watched coldly from the sidelines. “Silly girl, what’s there to be upset about? Without that scumbag, plenty of people will chase after you crying and begging. Has your brain short-circuited to be this heartbroken?”

Tang Xin sullenly threw away her wine glass and returned to normal. “Forget it, let’s talk business. You report back to the company tomorrow afternoon at the latest, or the day after.”

Fu Xueli didn’t respond.

The other side continued, “A few days ago I signed another person, planning to give her two productions to try first. She has spirit and talent, but lacks staying power. Her figure and face can’t compare to yours—needs cheek contouring and a nose job. What was her name originally? She’s a Chinese American, I forgot. I’m planning to cultivate some new talent recently—anyway, you’ll need to transform in a few years too. Oh right, there’s more news. ‘Dawn Break’ has been rescheduled again—it’s from higher-ups. Conservative estimate is it might premiere during summer vacation.”

After listening to Tang Xin finish explaining work matters, Fu Xueli got up to wash her face and brush her teeth, then scampered downstairs. Her eyes swept around in circles but didn’t see Xu Xingchun anywhere—she didn’t know where he’d gone to help with things.

On the table were freshly heated porridge and side dishes, light and tasty. After Fu Xueli ate her fill, she carried a full glass of sweet milk outside, planning to look for Xu Xingchun.

As soon as she stepped out, she saw a familiar big yellow dog sitting on the ground sunbathing, neither noisy nor barking. Seeing Fu Xueli, it barked once. One person and one dog stood facing each other.

Under the eaves hung a birdcage, chirping away.

The scene was quite leisurely and idyllic, but in reality, Fu Xueli didn’t dare move.

Seeing the big yellow dog about to frolic and pounce toward her, she stepped back two paces. The big yellow dog was stopped by someone’s sharp rebuke.

“This dog doesn’t enter the house and doesn’t bite people. Don’t be afraid.”

Fu Xueli turned to look—it was Xu Yuan. She smiled embarrassedly, explaining her timidity. “When I was little, a dog chased me after school, so I’m especially afraid…”

“Auntie, do you know where Xu Xingchun went?”

Xu Yuan thought for a moment. “He should have gone to cook.”

“Oh…” Fu Xueli’s fingers rubbed against the glass.

Xu Yuan held a pile of coats in her arms and said to Fu Xueli, “Follow me to the room to get some motherwort. Steep it and drink a bit—it’ll help a lot with menstrual cramps.”

Fu Xueli agreed and hurried to follow Xu Yuan, passing through the inner hall, the lotus pond, and walking toward the interconnected inner rooms.

Upon entering the room, Xu Yuan moved efficiently, taking off her shoes and putting away the clothes. Fu Xueli kept her hands in her pockets. “Auntie, do you need my help?”

“There’s a wooden box over there, do you see it? The motherwort is on the second layer—look for it.”

After Xu Yuan finished tidying up, she saw Fu Xueli silently crouching there, staring at something. She walked over while tying up her hair. “What’s wrong? Couldn’t find it?”

“Got it.” Fu Xueli quickly replied, looking up at her. “Auntie, I see a photo album. I’d like to look at it.”

She was too curious about what Xu Xingchun was like as a child.

Xu Yuan laughed. “If you want to see it, take it out and look.”

With permission granted, Fu Xueli immediately brought out the photo album.

Opening the first page, there was a slightly yellowed group photo—a man and a woman, both smiling at the camera. The woman’s eyes were full of affection, her temperament elegant and gentle. The low-key and steady man had his arm around her. Eye-catching.

Watching from the side, after a while, Xu Yuan smiled and answered, “This is Xu Xingchun’s father and mother.”

Fu Xueli nodded. She could tell.

Xu Xingchun’s mother was truly a genuine great beauty in that era. Studying the features, she discovered that Xu Xingchun’s chin and nose bridge both closely resembled his mother’s.

No wonder she always felt he had a somewhat refined look.

After flipping through a few more pages, Fu Xueli suddenly discovered something. She looked up with some surprise, an expression of disbelief. “So Uncle was also a police officer before?”

Xu Yuan thought of something, contemplated privately for a moment, sighed, and nodded. “Yes.”

“Then Uncle…” A thought flashed through suddenly. Fu Xueli didn’t know how to ask.

Xu Yuan said calmly, “Didn’t Xu Xingchun tell you? His father died while executing a mission.”

“What?” This bombshell news landed. Xu Yuan’s words threw Fu Xueli a bit off balance. “I didn’t know…”

“Family matters are somewhat complicated. Back then we advised Xu Xingchun not to follow my elder brother’s path, but in the end it was still fate.” Xu Yuan’s voice was emotionless, even somewhat cold. “If you’re with him, you need to be mentally prepared. A narcotics officer’s family won’t be too happy. You never know if an accident might happen the next second.”

Turbulent waves eventually returned to calm. Those words turned over and over in her heart a thousand times. Fu Xueli shook her head. “No, I was the one who actively pursued Xu Xingchun.”

Her eyes didn’t blink as she looked at the tender-faced little boy in the album and said softly, “My own affairs are my own decision. Both emotions and life.”

One photo album, one outsider—this was a documentary of Xu Xingchun from childhood to now.

Past events flashed by scene by scene.

He didn’t have many photos, and in each one he rarely smiled.

Xu Yuan said Xu Xingchun had bad luck from childhood.

He had a very extreme personality. You could see it from elementary school. If someone cursed at him, he’d fight back—fight like his life depended on it. Later when he was a bit older, he learned to restrain himself.

Because of family circumstances, he matured very early. During the age when boys were screaming and running on soccer fields and girls wore flower dresses with ponytails, if Xu Xingchun didn’t cook, there was no food at home.

In the kitchen.

Xu Xingchun wore an apron, his hands and feet nimble, skillfully cutting ginger strips and removing fish bones with practiced motions. His evenly proportioned hands were covered in salt as he opened a bottle of cooking wine. Quiet and swift, he picked up the cooking wine bottle and tapped it on the edge of the tile counter.

Fu Xueli hid outside secretly watching him work. Thinking about some things Xu Yuan had told her, she felt a bit uncomfortable—couldn’t explain it clearly. Couldn’t laugh, couldn’t cry.

At the dining table, Fu Xueli ate vegetables in big bites, working hard to shovel rice into her mouth. Head down, biting the chopstick end, whenever she heard his voice, the tip of her nose felt a bit sour.

Winter days always darkened especially fast. Just past five o’clock, night had already fallen. The old master had gone out to walk the dog and hadn’t returned yet. Xu Yuan was worried and went out to look.

Having just slept for a while on the bed, Xu Xingchun held a cup drinking water, preparing to go to the kitchen to cook. His finger slid across Fu Xueli’s nose bridge—extremely light, extremely gentle. Reading her expression, he asked, “What’s wrong with you today?”

He could clearly sense her low mood today.

Even during the afternoon nap, Fu Xueli had stayed by his side the whole time.

Rarely so well-behaved.

He was very smart and quickly guessed. “Did my aunt say something to you?”

Fu Xueli sniffed and held up a lighter she’d found somewhere. Her thumb pressed hard—with a snap she pressed down the lighter and the flame flickered. The protrusion on the side scratched her hand, making a fine cut with blood beads sliding out.

The weak firelight reflected between the two of them. Fu Xueli didn’t notice at all.

“Xu Xingchun, make a wish.”

Out of the blue—he looked at her without speaking.

“I want to make a wish too.” She looked back at him, her eyes a bit red. “I want Xu Xingchun to be safe and sound, to live a thousand times, ten thousand times happier than others his whole life.” After saying this sentence, Fu Xueli focused intently on blowing out the flame.

Xu Xingchun raised his hand and pinched her neck, revealing a slight smile. Although he occasionally smoked, his lips and teeth were maintained very well—his lip color light red, his mouth red and moist.

Fu Xueli had been building up courage for a long time but then deflated. The corners of her eyes were flushed red. An expression both very enticing and pitiful.

Xu Xingchun had never had much of a moral sense, and even less was he restrained like a Buddha with pure heart and few desires. He had greed, so he leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. “Why so suddenly well-behaved?”

She didn’t care about anything, arms open, circling his waist.

Finally.

Gathering all her courage.

“Xu Xingchun, if I like you, I like all of you. No matter how bad you are, no one can persuade me to leave you.” Fu Xueli pulled back a little and finally faced him directly. “I want to hear you tell me about things from before.”

She knew about Xu Xingchun’s other side of life.

Although not much.

But she kept feeling regret and remorse.

Thunder that tore through the sky.

When he was hysterical with rage and desperate, she hadn’t been able to gently hold him tight.

“Does your hand hurt?” Xu Xingchun lowered his head slightly, his hand sliding down along her wrist, holding it. His nose tip touched her forehead, foreheads pressed together, eyes meeting. His eyelashes curled long and beautiful.

His soft lips swept across the bleeding fingertip, like the most tender and gentle kiss. Wiping away the moisture at the corner of her eye, he asked, “What do you want to hear?”