Zhou Jin had been crying a lot lately — all the tears she had stubbornly refused to shed over the past five years, she finally let out in one great, cathartic flood.

Jiang Hansheng couldn’t bring himself to push her away. He pressed his palm against her shoulder and stroked her gently, yet he didn’t dare hold her again.

Everything felt too unreal.

Zhou Jin had perhaps spoken those words about liking him in a moment of guilt, a moment of tenderness — said them on impulse, in the heat of the moment.

Jiang Hansheng needed to keep himself sufficiently clear-headed, to avoid repeating the mistakes of that day.

When she had cried enough and been held enough, Zhou Jin asked quietly: “Let’s not get divorced, all right?”

The end of her words carried a lilt that belonged only to girls — half a pout, half a coax.

Jiang Hansheng was a little troubled. “Zhou Jin, I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Hurting me is fine.” Zhou Jin reached out and touched his face. “I’m willing to face whatever comes. Professor Jiang — I want to treat you well, I want to love you. If you want the moon, I won’t go picking stars.”

She was direct and warm, and she spoke those flirtatious words with complete sincerity, her tone carrying a faint undercurrent of intimacy.

“…”

After hearing her, Jiang Hansheng’s heart beat a little unsteadily.

Seeing that he gave no response, Zhou Jin wasn’t discouraged in the slightest. She said: “If you won’t agree now, I’ll still manage to win you over eventually. I’m good at this.”

Zhou Jin hadn’t thought much about it — she only meant to express her absolute determination — but Jiang Hansheng was acutely sensitive to her words.

His heart sank. He asked: “You plan to handle me the same way you once handled Jiang Cheng?”

Jiang Hansheng’s words carried a jealousy he could not contain, and they doused Zhou Jin’s fiery, spirited enthusiasm like a bucket of cold water.

Zhou Jin went momentarily speechless.

The moment the words left his mouth, Jiang Hansheng regretted them. Watching Zhou Jin’s smile freeze on her face, guilt surged through him once again.

He didn’t apologize this time. He thought to himself that he ought to let Zhou Jin see what his true nature really was — this ugliness was simply who he was.

Jiang Hansheng fell silent and looked away. Almost immediately, Zhou Jin grabbed his face and turned it back toward her. Her gaze was bright as snow and blazing with flame — the kind of heat that could melt even ice.

“Is this the first test?” she demanded.

Zhou Jin was clearly a little angry. She kicked off her shoes and climbed directly onto the bed, swinging herself across his waist.

Looking down at him from above, she said: “Then I’ll use the moves I’ve saved specially for you.”

She pinned his wrists down, her fingers sliding up to lace through his, interlocking their hands.

Jiang Hansheng was still in the middle of his surprise when Zhou Jin’s lips came down over his. Her lips were soft, but the kiss was ardent. If the kiss at Kuang Mountain had contained a kind of hysterical wildness, this kiss was nothing but lingering, tender affection.

There was even a hint of something teasing in it.

Zhou Jin’s index finger traced up his prominent Adam’s apple and scratched it lightly with her nail. In the midst of the long kiss, Jiang Hansheng let out a low, muffled sound — restrained and unbearably alluring.

He furrowed his brow slightly, closed his eyes, and let Zhou Jin do as she pleased with him.

Zhou Jin pulled back just a little and touched his flushed, warm ear, a mischievous impulse stirring in her heart.

She teased: “Professor Jiang, that sounded quite lovely.”

“…”

Jiang Hansheng was breathless, his face even redder, and part of him wanted nothing more than to shove Zhou Jin off the bed entirely.

He couldn’t hold back a low rebuke: “Zhou Jin!”

Zhou Jin asked: “Does this count as pursuing you properly?”

“…”

“Do we still need to get divorced?”

“…”

Jiang Hansheng’s handsome face concealed a simmering irritation, and he still refused to give an inch.

“You miser.”

Zhou Jin shot him a reproachful look and leaned down, just about to bite him, when someone knocked on the door outside and Lin Qiuyun’s voice came through: “Hansheng?”

In her panic, Zhou Jin rolled off the bed in one swift move, hastily tugged her clothes straight, smoothed her hair, then looked over at Jiang Hansheng with guilt written all over her face.

Just a moment ago, Jiang Hansheng had been thoroughly flustered by Zhou Jin’s teasing. Now that Zhou Jin was the flustered one, he had become completely composed — as if he had finally found the one thing capable of keeping Zhou Jin in check. He adjusted his askew collar and couldn’t help but laugh.

It was quite a beautiful smile.

Zhou Jin’s teeth itched with the urge to bite him. Suppressing the impulse, she went to open the door for Lin Qiuyun and Zhou Songyue.

Lin Qiuyun peered inside, careful not to disturb Jiang Hansheng, and asked Zhou Jin softly: “Is he better?”

Zhou Jin said: “He’s awake.”

Only then did Lin Qiuyun and Zhou Songyue come in. Jiang Hansheng called out first: “Dad, Mom.”

Zhou Songyue looked at Jiang Hansheng’s haggard complexion, and immediately thought of what Tan Shiming had told him — that Jiang Hansheng had risked his life to stop the runaway vehicle Zhou Jin was in, and that both he and the car had nearly gone over the edge of a cliff.

Zhou Songyue felt both grateful and deeply relieved.

“As long as you’re all right. This child of ours, your temperament is exactly the same as when you were small…” He paused — he could never quite manage to say anything too sentimental to the younger generation — and shifted to: “Just don’t do anything so dangerous again in the future, and stop letting Zhou Jin drag you into all her reckless nonsense!”

Whenever Lin Qiuyun complained that he shouldn’t have supported Zhou Jin and let their daughter walk into danger, Zhou Songyue would explain that it was her job — but now that he was actually in front of Zhou Jin, he couldn’t help but scold her anyway.

“You especially! Do you have a death wish? Do you think you’re some kind of man, or are you in a Hollywood blockbuster? Jumping off a moving vehicle — how could you dare do something so dangerous? How many times have I said it — safety first, safety first — if I don’t twist your ear off, you’ll never remember those words!”

When Zhou Songyue put on his stern face, he became very serious — it wasn’t just Zhou Jin who was afraid of him; even Zhou Chuan would have been. Once he started reprimanding her, Zhou Jin had no choice but to bow her head and listen obediently.

Jiang Hansheng, however, wasn’t particularly afraid of Zhou Songyue’s temper. He spoke up on Zhou Jin’s behalf: “Dad, I bear some responsibility for this too — I didn’t stop her. You can’t blame Zhou Jin.”

Zhou Songyue had always had a particular soft spot for other people’s children.

Seeing her opportunity, Zhou Jin immediately hugged Jiang Hansheng’s arm and ducked behind his shoulder, using him as a shield.

Zhou Songyue pretended to glare at Jiang Hansheng, but before long, he broke into a hearty laugh. “I’m scolding her, and you’re defending her?”

Lin Qiuyun beside him laughed too, but the more she laughed, the more a faint sting crept into her eyes.

These two children had just barely survived a brush with death. As their elders, the more joyful they felt in this moment, the more grateful — grateful that both of them were still here, still whole.

Lin Qiuyun patted the back of Jiang Hansheng’s hand. “Zhou Jin is still bouncing around like nothing happened, so I’m not worried about her. It’s you who was more seriously injured — you need to rest properly.”

“It’s just some minor injuries. I’ll be fine.”

Lin Qiuyun said: “You need to eat well. The food around the hospital doesn’t look up to much — Mom will go home and make some soup later, bring it for you tonight. How does that sound?”

Jiang Hansheng said: “Mom, there’s no need to go to all that trouble.”

Lin Qiuyun smiled, warm and gentle, and insisted: “What trouble? We’re family.”

Zhou Jin, listening in, suddenly felt a craving come over her. She raised her hand. “I want some too.”

Lin Qiuyun looked at her still angling for attention and felt equal parts exasperated and amused. “Would you drink fish soup?”

Zhou Jin wrinkled her lips. “…In that case, never mind.”

Right after that, Lin Qiuyun got into a conversation with her about which kind of soup would be best, and one thing led to another until she was inevitably fussing over Zhou Jin’s health, which led further still to questions about Zhou Jin having children in the future.

The topics drifted from one thing to the next, an endless, rambling stream. Zhou Songyue chimed in occasionally with a word or two, offering broad, conclusive opinions.

Jiang Hansheng mostly listened from the side.

It was lively — Zhou Jin and her parents seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of things to talk about.

Noon arrived, and bright, warm sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the hospital room.

The air still carried the faint smell of disinfectant. The walls were still the same expanse of white. But it was the first time Jiang Hansheng ever felt that a hospital could, somehow, be a very good place.

After three days of observation, with the doctor’s approval, Jiang Hansheng and Zhou Jin were both discharged.

Zhou Jin’s parents had been traveling back and forth for many days already. They were getting on in years, and the exhaustion was taking its toll. Not wanting to worry them any further, Zhou Jin booked them high-speed rail tickets back to Wucheng and told Yan Bin to meet them at the station.

Before leaving, Lin Qiuyun and Zhou Songyue had originally hoped to see Jiang Cheng one more time.

However, Tan Shiming reported that because Jiang Cheng had violated orders at Kuang Mountain and acted on his own initiative, nearly causing irreparable damage to the police force, he had been placed in temporary confinement and was awaiting investigation.

In addition, the ongoing interrogation work connected to the drug manufacturing operation at Kuang Mountain still required his cooperation, so Jiang Cheng was temporarily unable to see anyone.

Zhou Jin’s parents had no choice but to let it go.

After seeing them off, Zhou Jin and Jiang Hansheng returned to their home.

It had already been tidied up simply by Zhou Jin. Jiang Hansheng was fastidious about cleanliness, and her own standards of living had risen considerably to match his — with him gone for so many days, it seemed she had restored everything to how it had been before.

At the entryway, Jiang Hansheng’s leg was injured, and his movements were a little slow. Zhou Jin was attentive to him, first helping Jiang Hansheng out of his black overcoat and hanging it on the rack, then crouching down to help him change his shoes.

“What do you want to eat tonight?” Zhou Jin handed him a slipper. “Lift your foot.”

Jiang Hansheng obediently slipped it on.

Zhou Jin stood up and raised her hands to undo the buttons of his shirt.

She had gotten halfway through when Zhou Jin seemed to think of something and stopped, casting a crafty look up at him: “Professor Jiang — if you’re so set on divorce, am I even allowed to undo your buttons anymore?”

“…”

She hadn’t asked his opinion, and she had already undone half of them anyway.

Jiang Hansheng looked at Zhou Jin’s curved, smiling eyes — the more he looked, the more she resembled a little fox absolutely certain of her victory. He held himself together with a facade of cool indifference.

He refused: “You’re not. I’ll do it myself.”