Eight months later.

Yu Rui and He Zhuyun held their engagement ceremony, and the He mansion was crowded with guests from early morning.

Not long before, Principal Yu had come to the He residence on behalf of his eldest grandson to propose marriage to Fourth Miss. When the two families sat down to discuss the matter, Yu Rui had solemnly expressed his feelings for He Zhuyun to the He family elders. He Zhuyun, out of shyness, hadn’t been present; Hongdou had gone and relayed it to her with a smile. He Zhuyun, delighted and bashful to hear it, had stood quietly by the window, her face flushed, for a while before nodding her agreement on the spot.

Fortunately, after these months of observation and interaction since the war, the He family had come to understand Yu Rui thoroughly in every respect. After some discussion, the two families settled on a date for the engagement.

The previous week, Chongqing had seen a bit of drizzling rain almost every day. On the day of the engagement, everyone had expected another overcast day, but happily the weather cleared up early that morning.

Aside from He Lanzhi and Zhang Mingjing, Ruide had also arrived in Chongqing the night before.

As the guests arrived for the ceremony one after another, the He residence quickly grew lively and bustling.

Hongdou wore a loose lotus-pink dress and was entertaining guests in the garden. She had lately been paying particular attention to her diet and exercise; though she moved far less nimbly than before, her complexion was excellent, and even without makeup she carried a lovely glow. She was due to give birth within days, and He Yunqin kept a constant, anxious eye on her — even when he had to step away briefly to greet other guests, his gaze never left her for long.

Just as he’d expected, the moment he turned away, he heard Wang Bide give a low scolding shout, and two plump, chubby children came running laughing through the garden.

The older one looked about five, the younger not yet three, both in matching brand-new Western-style shirts and shorts — clearly new outfits Wang Bide had just gotten for them.

Wang Bide’s own attire wasn’t much different from the children’s, except his Western-style shorts were long trousers. With one grown man and two little ones appearing together, it was impossible not to draw attention.

The children were running too fast, and Wang Bide, afraid they’d bump into someone, chased after them from behind, calling out in a hushed voice. Fortunately, once their initial burst of curiosity wore off, they finally remembered Wang Bide’s usual instructions, trotted about for a bit like little ponies, and then obediently ran back to his side.

Wang Bide pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his sweat, took one child’s hand in each of his own, and called out heartily, “Yunqin, Hongdou.”

He’d quit drinking recently, and his complexion was noticeably more ruddy than before. He constantly complained the two children were a nuisance, yet no matter where he went, he never forgot to bring them along.

Hongdou peeked out from behind He Yunqin’s shoulder, smiling. “Detective Wang.”

Wary of the two chubby boys suddenly causing “trouble,” He Yunqin kept himself between them and Hongdou as he asked Wang Bide, “Will the detective agency be able to open next week? Do you need my help?”

The detective agency, ostensibly there to solve cases, was in fact meant to gather intelligence for the organization behind the scenes. Having been in Chongqing this long, it really should have been set up long ago, but with air raids on Chongqing happening from time to time, both he and Wang Bide had worried about their records being destroyed by bombing, and it had taken quite a while just to find a suitable place.

They had finally managed, with some difficulty, to rent a residence close to an air-raid shelter, and had entrusted comrades in Shanghai to gradually transfer the records over. All told, it had dragged on for several months.

Wang Bide, knowing Hongdou was about to give birth and that He Yunqin’s attention had been entirely on his wife lately, waved a hand. “It’s basically all set up. Gu Yun and Chongyi come by whenever they’re free to help out. The records are all sorted now — once I’ve got an assistant in place, I’ll put a notice in the papers announcing that Bide Detective Agency is officially open.”

Hearing this, Hongdou looked up to see Gu Yun, dressed in a plain moon-white qipao, talking with a professor from the education department of Fudan University. Her hair had recently been cut short into a round black mushroom bob, with one side tucked behind her ear, revealing a fair, delicate profile.

Shanghai’s situation had gone from bad to worse; Gu Yun’s father’s paper had relocated to Chongqing half a year ago. Since St. John’s had temporarily not relocated, once Fudan University moved to Chongqing, Gu Yun had transferred there along with Hongdou, and the two remained classmates still.

Only because Hongdou had grown heavier by the day and, after struggling on with her classes for a while, had finally had to take leave from school — Gu Yun, worried she’d fall behind, often brought over her own notes to the He residence.

She drew her gaze away from Gu Yun and scanned the garden, but didn’t see her brother. Her brother had always been on close terms with Wang Bide, and Gu Yun shared her own fondness for such things — if the detective agency were opening, those two would surely be the happiest of all.

Just then a burst of laughter rose from the other side of the garden — it turned out Yu Rui’s group of classmates, invoking the name of Western etiquette, were egging him on to publicly present flowers to He Zhuyun in front of everyone. Since the flowers were a great bunch of red roses, someone had the sudden idea: “At Western weddings, there’s a custom of tossing the bridal bouquet — I wonder if tossing this bouquet at an engagement ceremony carries the same meaning?”

Yu Rui, embarrassed by his classmates’ teasing, laughingly leaned in and said something in He Zhuyun’s ear. He Zhuyun covered her mouth and laughed. “Well then, you’d all better be ready — it doesn’t matter whether you’re a man or a woman, whoever the flowers land on will have good news of their own coming soon.”

It was all in fun to begin with, and the group of young men and women, delighted, crowded together and jostled their way back. Once they’d put some distance between themselves, He Zhuyun turned around and tossed the flowers high behind her. Everyone burst out laughing and leapt to catch them.

But the flowers, deflected by the crowd’s outstretched arms, ended up landing in an entirely different direction — striking a man and woman who happened to be passing by. The man was Ruide, and the woman was Yuyuan. Not having seen each other in a long while, they’d happened to run into each other in the garden; Yuyuan had wanted to ask Ruide a few questions about switching to study medicine, and the two had struck up a conversation. Neither expected to be hit out of nowhere — both froze in surprise.

Everyone stared in astonishment for a few seconds before bursting out laughing in unison. “Well, well — looks like Miss Pan is next to get engaged.”

Yuyuan, blushing, glanced quickly at Ruide. Their eyes met, and her face flushed even redder. She thrust the flowers into the hands of a nearby classmate and said, straight-faced, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Hongdou glanced at He Yunqin and found he was watching the same scene.

That evening, as she was pacing beside the writing desk, the thought crossed her mind again, and she walked over to He Yunqin. “Will Ruide be going back to Shanghai?”

He Yunqin was working on an engineering drawing. At her question, he looked up, startled. “He has to go back — why do you ask?”

Hongdou steadied herself and settled onto his knee. “I just have a feeling Yuyuan might be a little fond of Ruide.”

He Yunqin held his wife securely, thought it over, and said with a frown, “But Ruide might not stay in China long-term. Once the fighting settles down, he could go back to England at any time.”

Hongdou paused for a moment, then laughed. “I was just asking out of curiosity. We don’t even know how Ruide feels about Yuyuan — besides, he’s a different nationality from us, which has nothing to do with age or looks. Uncle and Auntie are old-fashioned at heart after all; whether they’d approve is another matter entirely. In any case, it’s nothing but idle speculation for now.”

“And yet here you are thinking all sorts of things about it.” He Yunqin looked over her flushed profile, and tapped the pen in his hand against another stack of papers on the desk. “If you’re still not sleepy, why don’t we go over some more German.”

Ever since Hongdou had taken leave from school, he’d naturally taken over the task of tutoring her lessons. Whenever he had time, he’d insist on making her study every night — going through Gu Yun’s notes wasn’t enough; he also insisted her German studies couldn’t be allowed to lapse, and made her keep at it.

She shook her head, smiling. “No — I really don’t feel like studying right now.”

Her head rested against the curve of his neck; as she shook it, her soft hair brushed lightly, again and again, against the side of his face.

“Such a lazybones.” Warmth spread through his chest as he noticed his wife growing drowsy. He lowered his voice. “Or how about we settle on a few new names again.”

“Weren’t they already decided?” She glanced up at him. “One’s called ‘Guangming,’ the other ‘Zhenli.'”

He rubbed his chin. “Won’t that be a bit too casual?”

She closed her eyes, her whole body relaxing further. “‘He Guangming,’ ‘He Zhenli’ — they roll right off the tongue, sound grand when you say them out loud. I think they’re just fine.”

But what if it turned out to be a daughter? “He Zhenli” would be fine enough, but “He Guangming” always felt like it lacked a certain elegance.

Hongdou knew he was mulling it over again, and, remembering the phrase engraved on that old bicycle — “light and truth” — said lazily, “Never mind the names for now. Tell me first, how did you all ever come up with the idea of using an old bicycle as a way to pass messages?”

He Yunqin hadn’t expected her to suddenly bring this up. “It was already like that by the time I joined the organization. The one assigned to me was an especially old one, even by their standards.”

Hongdou was startled for a moment, then said, put out, “It certainly was too old — the first time I rode on it, it tore my trousers.”

He blinked, then laughed in surprise. “You still remember that, and hold it against me?”

The corner of her mouth curved up slightly. “I’ll remember it my whole life.”

He looked down at her, and remembered the first quarrel the two of them had ever had, in Fuhua Lane, over that very incident. So much time had passed since then, yet the image of her pouting with indignation still felt as vivid as if it were yesterday. He drifted for a moment, lost in thought — somehow, without his noticing, the years had turned to flowing golden sand, quietly slipping away between his fingers.

He reached up and gently stroked her cheek — his Hongdou, soon to become a mother.

“Hongdou, in a few days they’re going to tend to the garden. Shall I have them plant a red bean tree in the courtyard?”

Her breathing gradually grew slow and even; it was a good while before she gave a vague, drowsy hum, clearly exhausted.

He lowered his head and kissed her forehead very lightly. “Sleep now.”

She wasn’t comfortable sleeping sitting up like this; he carefully got up, holding her, meaning to carry her to bed.

But the moment he moved, Hongdou gave a sharp hiss and, frowning, reached for her belly.

His heart leapt into his throat at once. “What’s wrong?”

Hongdou held still for a moment, feeling it out, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness on her face as she looked up at him. “I think it might be starting.”

A cold sweat instantly broke out across He Yunqin’s back. He was silent for a moment, forcing himself to stay calm. “All right. Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

Easy to say — but now that the moment he’d worried about most had finally arrived, he found he hadn’t the faintest idea what to do next, and could only hold her and turn in circles around the room.

Hongdou was practically dizzy from being spun around. She had never once seen He Yunqin lose his composure like this, and couldn’t help but laugh despite herself. “He Yunqin, calm down. Put me on the bed first, then go call Dr. Anna.”

Only then did He Yunqin come to his senses. Steadying himself, he set her down on the bed, opened the door to call for a servant to prepare the car, and had someone rush to telephone Dr. Anna. In the blink of an eye, the entire He household was thrown into an uproar.

For the next several hours, to He Yunqin, felt like a hundred years. Every faint sound coming from the delivery room set his heart pounding with dread. But with limited facilities, only one family member was permitted to accompany the delivery, and since there were two women in labor in the delivery room at the same time, it had to be a female elder. He was left waiting out in the corridor, as though being slowly fried in oil. By afternoon, just as he’d nearly reached the limit of his patience, the delivery room door finally opened.

He Yunqin’s heart felt as though it had been seized in a tight grip; the blood that had seemed frozen in place surged forward again in a rush.

His mother-in-law’s face was split with a beaming smile. “Mother and children are both safe! The older one’s a boy — he came out a full minute ahead of the younger one, a girl!”

Seven years later.

A rickshaw pulled up in front of the He mansion and came to a stop. The door opened, and He Yunqin stepped out, striding straight up the steps, asking Steward Yu as he walked, “Where’s the Young Mistress?”

Steward Yu smiled. “She just got back from the school — she’s out in the garden now playing with the young master and young miss. The in-laws and Auntie are here too.”

He Yunqin knew that Pan Yuqi and Yuan Ruoli had come by way of Hong Kong to Chongqing and would be staying for a while; they’d brought the children today specially to see Hongdou.

Eager to see his wife, he nodded and strode on inside.

Reaching the garden, he looked up — sure enough, it was a lively scene.

Hongdou sat at the round table beneath the tree, laughing and chatting with friends and family. She still wore the same plain, smoky-purple qipao from that morning, without a single piece of jewelry on her. Lately she spent her days teaching at the university and her evenings, alongside him, preparing supplies for the front lines — she’d grown noticeably thinner over the past few months, and dressed these days in mostly understated, quiet tones. And yet, because his Hongdou was so beautiful, even the plainest fabric took on a thousand different graces once it touched her.

A crowd of children from various families ran about laughing and playing; a few of them looked particularly unfamiliar — clearly visiting the He mansion for the first time, unrecognizable even to a man with as good a memory as his.

That was hardly surprising.

Over these eight years, the seas had turned to dust and back again more than once; he and Hongdou had witnessed countless partings and reunions. Many friends and relatives, separated by the fighting, hadn’t seen one another in years.

Thankfully, all of that was finally about to come to an end. No more fear of enemy air raids from now on — when the sirens sounded, his He Guangming and He Zhenli would no longer have to race each other to see who could get to the air-raid shelter first. Before long, they’d be free to go wherever they liked — whether that would be Hong Kong or America, he still meant to discuss with his parents and Hongdou.

Among the crowd of children, the wildest one was his He Guangming; the second wildest, his He Zhenli. Catching sight of him, they came running at once. “Papa, Papa!”

At the sound, several pairs of eyes turned toward him. Someone called out with a smile, “Yunqin, it’s been a while!”

Before he could even respond with a smile, Hongdou, smiling, rose and hurried over to meet him. She had been waiting all morning — she had countless pieces of good news to share with her husband.