After taking the medicine, Yan Tingli’s fever broke the next day.

But he still looked listless, rubbing his eyes before dawn had even broken, and sitting up straight in bed.

This was still an old-style wooden plank bed.

With Yan Tingli’s tall frame, any slight movement would produce creaking sounds.

Shi Sui was woken up by him. She squinted her eyes open and stretched out her leg to kick him: “What are you doing? So noisy.”

Yan Tingli propped his chin on his hand, his eyelids drooping lazily.

His hair was tousled messily on his head, and his T-shirt hung loosely on his body, revealing his cold, pale, and clearly defined collarbones.

Shi Sui glanced at him, and four words floated through her mind.

Deliciously handsome.

With Yan Tingli’s temperament, staying in such an old environment, it was hard not to think of a young master fallen on hard times.

After a long while.

He parted his lips and uttered a few words: “I can’t sleep.”

Shi Sui: “?”

“This wooden board isn’t flat,” Yan Tingli said expressionlessly, “my back hurts from the bumps.”

A few days ago, he had also said he couldn’t sleep, complaining about no air conditioning.

Now that the air conditioning had arrived, he was complaining that the bed wasn’t flat.

Shi Sui held back her irritation: “Then should I get you a twenty-layer goose down blanket as padding?”

“Two layers would be fine too.”

“…” Shi Sui kicked at him again: “How about I give you two kicks instead?”

“Don’t you feel the bumps?”

Shi Sui’s eyes rolled slowly: “I’m not as particular as you.”

But Yan Tingli suddenly snorted, as if remembering something: “No wonder.”

Shi Sui looked at him.

“You’re unwilling to be underneath, insisting on sitting on top of me and moving.”

“You even sleep on top of me.” He grabbed her ankle that was about to kick over, sneering coldly, “Are you using me as a mattress?”

“…”

Shi Sui’s little schemes were exposed, and her gaze drifted away silently.

Yan Tingli stared at her with the kind of look as if he was seeing her for the first time.

He leaned over, hovering above: “How come I never noticed before?”

Shi Sui played dumb: “Hmm?”

“How bad you are.”

Shi Sui thought for a moment and realized she had indeed been quite arrogant lately.

Perhaps the small town was too peaceful, making her unconsciously expose her true nature.

Before, she would always suppress and suppress again.

Shi Sui stared at him intently, suppressing the instinctive panic she felt when he questioned her at close range, and said defiantly: “I’ve always been like this. What are you going to do about it?”

After saying this, she saw Yan Tingli’s lips curve upward, his eyes and brows filtered by the sunrise, appearing as if covered with a layer of soft mist.

He suddenly lowered his head.

And touched her cheek lightly.

“That’s good.”

After the kiss, he got up and took off his shirt to change clothes.

Full of energy.

Shi Sui: “…Huh?”

“Happy.”

She really couldn’t understand Yan Tingli’s mental state more and more.

She had caused his back to hurt, and he was happy about it?

“What are you going to do?”

Yan Tingli: “Buy a Simmons mattress.”

Shi Sui: “…”

—It seemed Yan Tingli wasn’t here for a “vacation,” but to participate in her family’s “old house renovation project.”

The flow of time in the small town seemed slower than usual, and even Yan Tingli’s schedule became surprisingly regular.

He, who hadn’t gotten up early in ten thousand years, now opened his eyes precisely at 6:30 every morning.

Because the sun would rise and shine directly on his face.

Even if he wanted to sleep, he couldn’t.

Waking up early naturally meant going to bed early, too.

At ten o’clock, accompanied by the endless cicada sounds from the trees in the old house, he would tiredly fall asleep.

The small town had no entertainment activities. All they could do was stay home and watch TV on Yan Tingli’s computer.

The days seemed calm on the surface, but—

Without artificial intelligence, Yan Tingli was completely clueless about basic life skills.

Yan Tingli had many complaints and didn’t want to go to the small restaurant in town anymore.

He found it unsanitary and wanted to cook for himself.

Shi Sui went along with him, accompanying him to the small store to buy vegetables.

But Yan Tingli didn’t know how to use the old-style stove. Seeing that people still used firewood for cooking, the shock in his eyes was like seeing primitive people performing suggestive dances.

Under Shi Sui’s step-by-step guidance, he finally managed to light the firewood with great difficulty.

But because the chimney of the old house had been blocked from years of not being used for fires, the entire kitchen filled with black smoke.

Both of them were choked and covered their mouths as they ran outside.

Yan Tingli silently fetched water to put out the fire.

When he came out, his fair and delicate face was covered in patches of white and black, all ash.

Shi Sui laughed until she collapsed beside him.

He then ruthlessly smeared the ash from his hands onto her face.

An eye for an eye.

Shi Sui screamed.

Angrily, she ran back to the kitchen and deliberately got her hands covered in ash.

She jumped up to smear it on Yan Tingli’s face.

He let her do as she pleased, then grabbed her face and rubbed it against his own.

Ahhh!

They didn’t get to eat and were exhausted instead.

Covered in ash that couldn’t be washed clean even with water.

Shi Sui, gray-faced and disheveled, sternly demanded to go wash in the river.

Yan Tingli frowned when he heard this: “That river where people wash clothes and vegetables?”

“Yes.”

“Not going.”

“Why?”

He turned his head: “Dirty.”

Shi Sui: “The upstream isn’t dirty. If you don’t go, I’ll go by myself.”

“You’re not allowed to go either.”

Shi Sui was already used to arguing with him: “Why?”

Yan Tingli’s expression remained cold: “You’re not allowed to bathe outside.”

Shi Sui: “…”

She turned and walked away.

Yan Tingli stared at her, his voice deepening: “Sui Sui.”

It was his usual tone when applying pressure.

Shi Sui’s eyelashes trembled, and she reflexively stopped.

Realizing this, she pressed her lips together and turned around.

She looked up and met his gaze, using silence to express her attitude.

The two confronted each other silently for a moment.

Yan Tingli’s expression looked somewhat irritated.

After several seconds.

He finally uttered a few words: “If you’re going, we’ll go together.”

Shi Sui blinked and showed a fawning smile.

She took two steps closer, stood on her tiptoes, and gently stroked his hair: “Brother Tingli, you’re so good today.”

Yan Tingli grabbed her hand.

Seeming to find it awkward, his expression was very strange.

“You’re like this.”

Is this training a dog?

Yan Tingli frowned, pausing, not wanting to say the rest of the sentence.

—Even less willing to admit that he didn’t feel unhappy about it.

Shi Sui said slowly: “…Hmm?”

Yan Tingli lowered his voice: “This is a dog trainer’s common tactic.”

Being exposed, the small satisfaction that had just risen in Shi Sui’s heart cooled.

Trying to manipulate Yan Tingli.

It was harder than climbing to heaven.

Just as she was hesitating how to deflect, Yan Tingli had already coldly grabbed her: “Are we going or not?”

Shi Sui was stunned, feeling a subtle itch in her heart.

She couldn’t help but secretly glance at his profile.

Did she… succeed after all?

Walking along the stream upstream, they arrived at the place Shi Sui had designated.

Seeing the actual location, Yan Tingli’s expression improved somewhat.

It wasn’t the small ditch he had imagined with many people soaking in it.

This place was surrounded by small mountains on four sides, encircling a bend of deep, quiet pond water, with a small waterfall cascading down from above.

The stream gurgled, and the mirror-like water surface was crystal clear, allowing them to see the pebbles and small fish at the bottom.

“When I was little during summer vacation,” Shi Sui sat by the shore, her fair feet tentatively touching the pond surface, her tone somewhat nostalgic, “my dad would bring me here to swim.”

But later, Shi Yue became busy with work, and her grandparents passed away one after another, so those memories were forever frozen in childhood.

All of this was too novel for Yan Tingli.

His raven-black eyelashes lowered as he cupped water in his palm. The small fish below the surface were startled and swam away, wagging their tails.

A few seconds later, he looked up at her, his Adam’s apple moving slowly, as if about to say something.

Shi Sui noticed and looked up to meet his gaze.

“In the future, every year at this time,” Yan Tingli’s tone seemed casual, “we can come here.”

He paused.

Then added two words.

“We.”

Shi Sui’s fingers froze.

Her face paled slightly, and she quickly looked away.

She wanted to say something, but her throat felt stuffed with cotton.

Afraid of being too obvious, Shi Sui simply jumped directly into the water, splashing water everywhere.

It also soaked Yan Tingli completely.

“Come chase me,” Shi Sui stretched out her arms in the water.

Yan Tingli’s face darkened, and he jumped directly into the water after her.

He had professional coaches teaching him since childhood; Shi Sui was no match for him.

In seconds, she was caught, held around the waist from behind, his breath hot against her ear.

Underwater, his movements were also frivolous and reckless. With punitive intent, he caressed upward along her thigh.

Shi Sui suddenly stiffened, a blush appearing on her cheeks, “…We’re still outside!”

“You dare to bathe outside?” Yan Tingli said matter-of-factly, “So what’s wrong with me touching you a little outside?”

Indeed, training dogs was risky.

Especially with someone crazy like Yan Tingli.

With just a few moves, he made Shi Sui go soft, biting her lower lip, refusing to make a sound.

“Sui Sui,” Yan Tingli withdrew his hand and spoke in her ear, “how can you be so sensitive?”

……

“Shut up!” Shi Sui slapped away his hand.

Yan Tingli loved watching her shy expressions most, chuckling softly.

Having teased enough, he bent his neck and came down to kiss her.

When their lips and teeth met, it was almost tender, unlike him.

Shi Sui closed her eyes, feeling her heart sinking and floating in the water like her body.

She tasted some bitterness and tried hard to tell herself to learn to be satisfied.

People couldn’t be happy forever, but being able to carefully remember these few moments was enough.

Shi Sui hadn’t expected Yan Tingli to be willing to stay too long. She had originally only planned to take a bath and go back, but he acted like he had never played in water before. After washing off the ash, he swam several laps in the water.

After swimming, he sat by the shore with wet hair, completely disheveled, childishly throwing stones into the water, competing with Shi Sui to see whose splash was bigger.

When he won, he would raise his chin as if it were something worth boasting about.

Shi Sui was speechless.

It wasn’t until the sky was almost dark that she dragged Yan Tingli away: “Let’s go, I’m tired.”

The sun in the distance was setting in the west, about to withdraw its last trace of afterglow.

Walking back along the stream, the country road was quiet, with only the gentle summer evening breeze brushing against their faces.

Suddenly, while walking, Shi Sui heard a faint sound.

She stopped and looked at Yan Tingli: “Did you hear something?”

Yan Tingli listened for a moment, his gaze sweeping toward a certain direction.

Shi Sui followed his line of sight and saw a cluster of bushes—that was where it was coming from.

After listening intently for a while, Shi Sui’s eyes suddenly lit up: “It’s a kitten meowing!”

She ran over, just about to push aside the bushes, when Yan Tingli pulled her back and took over her action.

“Don’t get bitten.”

Shi Sui watched him part the grass, and they saw a kitten inside.

It was the most ordinary calico kitten commonly seen in rural areas.

About two or three months old, with its tail wrapped around itself, looking at them timidly.

“It really is a kitten,” Shi Sui kept shaking Yan Tingli’s arm, “pick it up, let’s keep it.”

But Yan Tingli didn’t move, turning his face, his dark eyes calmly looking at her.

Seeing his expression, she asked softly: “You… don’t want to keep it?”

“No.”

“Why?” she pressed.

Shi Sui didn’t dare to think deeply about why she had such a strong desire to make Yan Tingli keep this kitten.

Perhaps it was because.

He always seemed so lonely.

Yan Tingli glanced again at the little calico under the bushes.

Not knowing what he was thinking, when he spoke again, his voice was somewhat distant: “Bad things happen when you keep cats.”

Shi Sui’s heart skipped a beat.

She didn’t speak again.

She thought about where the kitten could go: “Then I’ll take it back to Hangz—”

“We,” Yan Tingli suddenly interrupted her, “we’ll take it back together.”

He emphasized: “I want to raise it together with you.”

The night concealed the pallor that appeared on Shi Sui’s face.

After a long while, she said softly: “…Mm.”

The moonlight cast long shadows of the two people.

The kitten was very well-behaved in Yan Tingli’s arms, even purring contentedly.

“What name do you want to give it?” Shi Sui asked.

“Ping An.” (Peace/Safety)

Shi Sui looked at him somewhat doubtfully.

How could someone who could come up with such poetic names like “Sui Sui” in childhood have regressed so much in naming ability as an adult?

Could it be because.

“Sui Sui Ping An” sounded catchy when read together?

As if seeing what she was thinking, Yan Tingli said indifferently: “That one wasn’t called Sui Sui, it was called Xiao Yuan.” (Little Round)

Shi Sui: “…” How vindictive.

He paused, his gaze quickly sweeping over her.

Using a casual tone: “It’s Sui Sui Ping An.” (Sui Sui’s safety/peace)

Ping An was a very mischievous kitten.

It would run around at midnight and meow punctually in the morning to wake people up.

After getting Ping An, the two of them woke up on time every day like military training.

During the long days, staying at home all the time was indeed hard to endure.

They had watched dozens of films and finally got tired of staying in.

Yan Tingli then developed other things he could do, like the vegetable growing he had been eager to try.

He often stared at the neighbor’s vegetable garden with profound, mysterious eyes.

This made Shi Sui think he wanted to steal vegetables, so she morally restrained him: “That aunt is a bit fierce. If you want to pick some, I can take you to Granny Zhao’s house, she…”

Yan Tingli tapped her head lightly with his knuckle: “Who wants to steal vegetables?”

Shi Sui: “…”

“I want to plant them.”

Alright, the ancestral house’s small courtyard happened to have two plots of land.

Shi Sui quietly watched him work.

Although Yan Tingli was often lazy, he had strong execution ability. The next day, he went to the small store to buy vegetable seedlings and seriously watched learning videos online.

…He hadn’t studied this hard even for the college entrance exam.

Shi Sui watched a pampered young master who initially couldn’t even recognize vegetable seedlings properly sowing seeds, loosening soil, and applying fertilizer.

By early August, the vegetable garden was lush and green, with the small seedlings blooming flowers.

Yan Tingli recorded in his notebook daily, calculating: “In about ten more days, you’ll be able to eat the lettuce I grew.”

“In fifteen days, you’ll eat the peppers I grew.”

He suddenly frowned, looking coldly at the last row of tomatoes: “Why are you growing so slowly?”

Shi Sui: “…?”

How could someone get angry at tomatoes?

Yan Tingli looked at her displeasedly: “You won’t be able to eat them before school starts.”

“I can ask the neighbors to come pick them…”

“No,” he looked down and crossed out something in his record book with his pen: “I’ll make time to come back in September.”

Shi Sui was stunned: “…To do what?”

“To pick vegetables.” He closed the record book, “and went back to cook them for you.”

Shi Sui felt as if her heart was suddenly pricked by a needle.

An indescribable dull pain spread, almost making her unable to straighten her back.

When they first arrived, she felt time move slowly.

But the later days passed so quickly that they left Shi Sui in a daze.

She watched the summer slowly pass, days shortening and nights lengthening, and even the endless cicada songs in the trees began to pause.

This evening, Yan Tingli came back carrying a bucket, pushing open the creaky bamboo gate.

Hearing the sound, Ping An jumped down from its little nest with a “thump,” wagging its tail as it ran to the door, meowing around Yan Tingli’s water bucket.

Shi Sui also got up from her reclining chair to see his “harvest” for the day.

He had recently developed a fishing hobby, adding meals for Ping An every day.

Ping An wasn’t interested in the expensive imported cat food and canned food bought online, only reluctantly eating them as survival meals.

Yan Tingli was particularly patient with this picky little cat.

After changing over a dozen types of food and seeing that Ping An still wouldn’t gain weight, Shi Sui suggested buying some small river fish to make cat food.

After brief consideration, he bought fishing equipment and went to the stream to fish every couple of days.

At first, he dragged her along, but Shi Sui found it too hot and refused to go. Although he wasn’t very happy, seeing her face flush red from the heat, he grudgingly agreed while sulking.

Yan Tingli was quite skilled at fishing too. It seemed there really wasn’t anything in the world that could stump him. He always returned with a full catch.

Just as he often said.

Whatever he wanted, he would get.

Shi Sui looked at the half bucket he brought back every day and seriously suspected he was going to make the few fish in this stream extinct.

Yan Tingli wore gloves and carefully processed the fish, then added chicken breast, pumpkin, egg yolk, and shrimp, ground them into a paste, and steamed them in a pot.

He bent down to feed the already impatient Ping An.

Shi Sui watched from the side.

While Yan Tingli was feeding the cat, she quietly took out the CCD camera she had bought long ago and aimed it at his and Ping An’s profiles.

“Click.”

She took a photo.

Shi Sui couldn’t help herself.

A tiny bit of her fingertip appeared in the lens.

This way, this photo had her in it, too.

“Are you secretly photographing me?” Yan Tingli turned his head and looked over.

He was always very sensitive to these small movements.

Shi Sui put down the CCD and tried to play dumb.

Yan Tingli reached out: “Give it here.”

She wouldn’t give it: “Don’t worry, I didn’t make you look ugly.”

“Give it here.”

Seeing she couldn’t deflect, Shi Sui reluctantly handed it over.

He took it and glanced at it.

“Why take photos?”

Shi Sui: “…Just thought it looked nice.”

“I don’t like having photos taken.” Yan Tingli’s finger paused on the delete button.

Shi Sui couldn’t bear to part with it and instinctively pressed his hand.

This was her only photo of Yan Tingli. She couldn’t help saying: “Don’t delete it. Just consider it a memento.”

“Why do we need mementos?” He asked back, saying lightly, “Only people who are separating need mementos.”

Shi Sui was easily made nervous by what he said. Her heartbeat was like a roller coaster, but finally returned to calm as she said vaguely: “That’s true, then you… delete it.”

After waiting for a long while.

The CCD was stuffed back into her palm. Looking at the photo, Shi Sui was stunned.

Yan Tingli was looking down, his hand stroking Ping An’s head.

“Just consider it Ping An’s hundred-day commemorative photo.”

His features were rendered especially gentle by the sunset.

So dreamlike that Shi Sui almost couldn’t help thinking this was all a dream.

She gazed at Yan Tingli and finally asked a question she had wanted to ask for a long time: “You’re so good to Ping An.”

“Why did you go through with that surgery,” Shi Sui chose her words carefully, “not wanting children?”

Yan Tingli looked up and slowly glanced at her.

He said somewhat amusedly: “What use are children?”

Shi Sui: “…Huh?” What kind of answer was that?

“Kittens can make me happy,” Yan Tingli said carelessly, “can children do that?”

Shi Sui tried hard to think of reasons: “But with one more child, there would be one more person in the world who loves you.”

Yan Tingli’s fingers paused.

After a long time, as if amused, he let out a “heh” from his throat and turned to look at her: “Really? Do you think I love Yan Zecheng?”

Shi Sui was stunned.

She heard him say emotionlessly: “Love him to the point of wishing he’d die in a woman’s bed—does that count?”

Seeing he was showing signs of another episode, Shi Sui quickly waved her hands: “…You can’t give such extreme examples.”

She didn’t know why she wanted to continue this debate either.

Just like wanting him to keep the kitten.

Maybe.

She still felt he was too lonely.

If there could be someone else in the future who could stay by his side.

Preferably someone braver and more confident, who could give Yan Tingli a healthy, complete family.

Not cowardly like her.

Shi Sui tried hard to ignore the sourness and dull pain in her heart and continued: “Children raised with love will love their parents very much. Just like how I love my parents very much.”

Yan Tingli did not react to these words, but looked at her suspiciously: “Do you want to have children?”

Shi Sui: “…Ah.”

“Even if you want them, I won’t give you any.” He put away the bowl that Ping An had finished eating, his tone still as possessive as ever.

“You may only love me alone.”