Feeling deeply satisfied after seeing Chen Zheng and Xiao Lu reach a happy ending, Tan Yin followed Chu Hang away from the tree-lined path, leaving the newly formed couple plenty of space to enjoy their hard-won romance.

Not long after turning onto the main road, Tan Yin felt like she’d forgotten something. After thinking it over, she finally remembered—she’d left her water bottle at the gym yesterday while running. It was a limited-edition comic merchandise water bottle Jiang Yilu had given her for her birthday last year, and Tan Yin treasured it dearly. She immediately pulled Chu Hang along to go back and retrieve it.

As it turned out, they ran into a familiar face at the gym—

Duan Yingfei had just stepped off the treadmill, her face flushed and beaded with sweat, walking toward the water fountain for a drink, when she looked up and spotted Chu Hang.

Since it was still storming outside, Tan Yin figured she was still invisible, and since Duan Yingfei wouldn’t be able to see her either, she naturally didn’t bother greeting her.

Duan Yingfei froze upon seeing Chu Hang, her eyes immediately reddening. “Chu Hang-oppa…”

Because of the whole situation with Zhou Ming, Duan Yingfei had also drawn a wave of attention—the post gossiping about Tan Yin and Chu Hang getting together had eventually spiraled off-topic, drifting from Tan Yin and Chu Hang to Zhou Ming, and then further still to Duan Yingfei. It wasn’t pretty—the anonymous forum already had plenty of freedom for posting, and quite a few girls had jumped at the chance to pile on and criticize Duan Yingfei.

Tan Yin hadn’t followed the thread herself, but she couldn’t escape Jiang Yilu’s constant gossip in her ear—

“Duan Yingfei, honestly, feels like all shine on the outside and nothing but trouble underneath. Great first impression, but then you actually get to know her and it’s a nightmare. She’s a local from City A, and she’s made comments a bunch of times looking down on us out-of-towners…”

“Beautiful on the outside, failing grade on the inside.”

“And her little clique of friends is beyond ridiculous—they all carry LV bags and call themselves the LV girl squad, but honestly, more like the Green Tea girl squad if you ask me…”

“You know, thinking back on it now, that whole rumor about Zhou Ming being twisted up over his obsession with Duan Yingfei—where did that even come from originally? Doesn’t that seem suspicious to you?”

…

Jiang Yilu had gone on and on, rambling through plenty more, but overall, virtually no one had a good word to say about Duan Yingfei. Unlike Zhou Ming’s reputation, Duan Yingfei’s had taken a complete nosedive—karma, in its own way.

Apparently, when Duan Yingfei saw the post, she’d first flown into a rage, then broken down crying. Because her tarnished reputation had gotten so bad, when the law school held sign-ups for a moot court team, not a single person was willing to team up with her.

It was probably this lesson that finally brought Duan Yingfei to her senses—after a period of lying low, she’d finally apologized to Zhou Ming.

And now, after this whole ordeal had passed, this was the first time Tan Yin had seen Duan Yingfei again.

Duan Yingfei looked at Chu Hang, then glanced Tan Yin’s direction, making Tan Yin feel unexpectedly guilty, internally chanting “she can’t see me, she can’t see me.” Sure enough, before long, Duan Yingfei looked away, focusing back on Chu Hang.

Her expression was pained and aggrieved. “Chu Hang-oppa…”

Tan Yin couldn’t resist muttering, “With that opening line, I feel like breaking into song again—just how many ‘little sisters’ do you have, and why does every single one of them…”

Unfortunately, Tan Yin didn’t get to finish singing, because Chu Hang had already shot her a warning glare from beside her.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop singing.” Emboldened by the fact that Duan Yingfei couldn’t see her, Tan Yin shot Chu Hang a fierce-but-toothless glare back, sucking up shamelessly. “Chu Hang-oppa, I’ll do whatever you say, no more singing.”

“Though I might stop singing, since Duan Yingfei always calls you Chu Hang-oppa, shouldn’t I, as your girlfriend, get called something too—like sister-in-law Tan Yin?”

After saying this, Tan Yin looked back at Duan Yingfei, only to find her staring fixedly at Chu Hang, her face flushed purple with anger. “Chu Hang-oppa, you just went and got together with Tan Yin like that…”

What was wrong with Chu Hang being with her? What was there for Duan Yingfei to have such trouble accepting? Besides, she and Chu Hang had been together for quite a while now—why was she still so unable to handle it, still looking as stung as if a wound had been reopened just seeing Chu Hang now, even though she couldn’t see Tan Yin?

Tan Yin practically pricked up her ears, ready to hear what Duan Yingfei had to say, but in the end, whatever it was about how Chu Hang and Tan Yin had ended up together, Duan Yingfei never got to finish, because her personal trainer interrupted her—

“Yingfei, come get weighed, let me record it, see if you’ve lost anything.”

Reluctantly, Duan Yingfei glanced at Chu Hang a few more times before turning and walking toward the scale.

But right before she left, Duan Yingfei still couldn’t hold it back. “Chu Hang-oppa, I remember once at a Japanese restaurant, you said I’d gained weight. My weight hasn’t actually changed, maybe it’s just that my body shape isn’t as toned, so ever since you said that, I’ve had a gym membership and been training with a personal trainer this whole time. I always thought you liked really slim girls, but looking at Tan Yin… she’s not that thin either!”

Chu Hang pressed his lips together and, almost without thinking, blurted out, “She doesn’t need to be thin. She’s exactly right as she is.”

Duan Yingfei stomped her foot and shot another glare in Tan Yin’s direction—if it hadn’t still been storming, Tan Yin might have wondered if she could actually see her!

But since she was invisible, Tan Yin suddenly got a mischievous idea, watching Duan Yingfei head toward the scale.

So you’re going to attack my weight, are you! Hmph!

The moment Duan Yingfei stepped onto the scale, Tan Yin quietly stepped one foot onto it too.

The digital scale faithfully reported the weight—

“65.7 kilograms.”

Tan Yin had been hoping this would make Duan Yingfei look embarrassed, creating an amusing mix-up to fluster her, but instead, Duan Yingfei stayed remarkably calm, walking off the scale without even blinking. Tan Yin naturally hurried to pull her foot back.

Duan Yingfei took a deep breath and stepped back on again. Naturally, Tan Yin extended her foot once more, but this time, Duan Yingfei didn’t keep looking straight ahead—she looked directly at Tan Yin, expressionless, and said, “Tan Yin, having fun with this? Had enough yet?”

Tan Yin was so startled she didn’t even get her foot off the scale in time. Outside… it was still storming outside! Shouldn’t she still be invisible in Duan Yingfei’s eyes? Unless…

Tan Yin looked at Duan Yingfei, bewildered and uncertain. “Did you get struck by lightning too recently?”

At this, Duan Yingfei’s expression finally cracked entirely, and she snapped, “You’re the one who got struck by lightning! Tan Yin, let me tell you, don’t think just because you’re Chu Hang-oppa’s girlfriend now you can strut around acting all high and mighty! I’ve been putting up with you this whole time only out of respect for Chu Hang-oppa! And here I’ve been putting up with all this, and you—when you saw me, you acted like you didn’t even see me, didn’t even greet me, fine, I could deal with that, I can do the same to you, pretend I don’t see you even when you’re right there, we’d be even—but instead you keep provoking me over and over! Singing whatever nonsense in Chu Hang-oppa’s ear just now, and you actually have the nerve to expect me to call you sister-in-law Tan Yin?!”

Duan Yingfei looked utterly at the end of her patience. “I already know you and Chu Hang-oppa are together—do you really have to keep provoking me like this? Do you really have to keep flaunting it?” As she spoke, she turned to Chu Hang accusingly. “Chu Hang-oppa, why do you indulge Tan Yin like this?! She’s the one bullying me! I put up with everything she did just now, treated her like she was nothing, air, and she still came and provoked me on purpose, even had to butt in and mess with my weigh-in!”

Tan Yin had no time to address Duan Yingfei’s accusations—she was too shocked. “You—you could see me this whole time? If you weren’t struck by lightning, have you been electrocuted recently?”

Duan Yingfei, at the end of her patience, snapped, “You’re the one who got electrocuted!” Then, turning to Chu Hang, “Chu Hang-oppa, look at her—she’s either hoping I get struck by lightning or hoping I get electrocuted, can’t she wish me anything good for once? I know I made mistakes before, and I’ve accepted the criticism I got for it, but do I really deserve to be struck by lightning or electrocuted on top of that?”

“No, no, no!” Tan Yin waved her hands frantically in explanation. “I’m not wishing any misfortune on you, I’m just really shocked.” She pinched her own cheek, and once the pain confirmed this wasn’t all a hallucination, she excitedly grabbed both of Duan Yingfei’s hands. “I don’t know why you can see me, but this is great! Another person who can see me! Can I come hang out with you on stormy days from now on?”

Compared to Tan Yin’s enthusiasm, Duan Yingfei looked positively constipated as she yanked her hands free, her eyes full of suspicion and disbelief. “Tan Yin, what’s wrong with you? Why are you saying things that make no sense at all? What do you mean, ‘now I can see you too’? You’re talking like other people usually can’t see you!”

“That’s exactly the point! Aside from Chu Hang and you, nobody else can see me in this kind of weather!”

But Duan Yingfei clearly wasn’t buying any of it. She turned to her personal trainer and pointed at Tan Yin. “Tell her—can you see her?”

Tan Yin, completely confident, was already shaking her head in anticipation. “He can’t se—”

But before she could finish the word “see,” the trainer looked at her like she was being ridiculous, and said loudly and clearly, “Of course I can see her.”

Along with his words, his face was practically screaming, “isn’t this girl a little slow?”

Tan Yin froze, then looked at Chu Hang. The two of them exchanged a look, one only they could understand, and Tan Yin felt her eyelashes flutter, her whole body starting to tremble.

Duan Yingfei could see her! The trainer could see her! They could both see her, so that meant…

She didn’t waste a single minute, immediately abandoning the utterly baffled and suspicious Duan Yingfei, and started grabbing random people around the gym to ask.

She asked a muscular guy running on the treadmill, asked a guy lifting weights, asked a girl in the yoga room…

“Can you see me?”

“Can you all see me?”

Though every single one of Tan Yin’s questions drew strange, baffled looks, with many people staring at her with expressions ranging from confused to concerned, wondering whether she was pretending to be crazy or genuinely lost it, Tan Yin couldn’t be bothered to care about any of that.

Because even though many people didn’t bother answering her nonsensical question, their expressions alone made it clear—they could see her! Every single one of them could see her!

It was still a thunderstorm outside, but everyone in the gym could see her!

Tan Yin was practically crying with joy. She rushed over to Chu Hang, grabbed his hand without thinking, her voice trembling with excitement. “Chu Hang! They can see me! They can see me! I’m back to normal!”

Though these words sounded as bizarre as could be to Duan Yingfei and everyone else present, Chu Hang didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest. He seemed almost infected by Tan Yin’s joy himself, letting her pull him along, unable to hold back a smile.

“I told you it would get better.”

Tan Yin’s heart was a mix of overwhelming joy and confusion—was this superpower really that intelligent and remarkable, timing its exit from the stage perfectly after helping Xiao Lu and Chen Zheng, a devoted couple, find each other?

By the time they’d walked well out of the gym, Tan Yin still felt like it was all a dream, thoroughly unreal.

Every couple of steps, she couldn’t help asking Chu Hang again, “Am I really back to normal?”

After asking him this about a dozen times, even Chu Hang started answering with a bit of exasperation. “You’ve always seemed perfectly normal to me.”

Tan Yin thought about it and decided Chu Hang’s answer wasn’t wrong no matter how you looked at it—while she’d been “invisible,” she’d been visible to him, so whether she was “normal” or not really depended on everyone else’s perception.

So along the way, Tan Yin couldn’t contain her excitement, waving and greeting everyone they passed. If Chu Hang hadn’t held her back, she probably would have gotten so carried away she’d have started blowing kisses to strangers.

“Alright, that’s enough, calm down. They can all see you now.” Chu Hang took her hand. “Behave yourself, or if you keep making eyes at people, I won’t be happy.”

“Chu Hang-oppa, whatever you say.” Tan Yin, in high spirits, threw herself at Chu Hang, clinging to his neck like a koala, kissing his cheek. “So from now on, I’ll only make eyes at you, alright?” As if to prove her point, right after saying this, she winked at him.

“No sense of propriety at all.”

Though the words sounded like a reprimand, Chu Hang’s tone carried a distinct trace of amusement.

Tan Yin blinked at him. “So you like it when I’m proper?” She cleared her throat, putting on a mock-serious air. “Then let me keep my composure.” As she spoke, she hopped away from Chu Hang. “I’ll keep a respectable one-arm’s distance while walking.”

But before she’d even actually put an arm’s length between them, a strong hand pulled her firmly back by the left hand.

Chu Hang was, indeed, perfectly composed, his face showing no trace of any particular expression, as calm as if it hadn’t been him who’d just pulled her back to his side—except that the hand holding hers interlaced its fingers with hers, gentle yet firm, pulling her even closer to him.

Chu Hang’s voice was low. “Let’s go.”

Tan Yin blinked. “Go where?”

Chu Hang glanced at her. “On a date.”

“Hm?”

“To let you stake your claim on a stormy day.”

With just those few words, Tan Yin couldn’t help but break into a delighted grin. Right—it was still storming, and now she was finally back to normal, so what should they do? Of course, seize the first opportunity to properly go on a date during a storm, to make up all at once for the sense of presence she’d been missing on rainy days for so long!

Tan Yin leaned into Chu Hang, tugging at his arm. “Let’s go, let’s go! Hurry up and let’s go on that date! I hope this storm never stops!”

…

Perhaps heaven really was trying to make up for all the presence Tan Yin had lost on stormy days, because ever since she’d returned to normal that day, it ended up storming, on and off, for an entire week straight.

In Tan Yin’s plans, she intended to make full use of this heaven-sent week of storms, doing all the things she and Chu Hang hadn’t been able to do on rainy days before—going to the movies, having a big meal out, going shopping, checking off popular photo spots…

But Tan Yin hadn’t expected that, in the end, her plans wouldn’t pan out at all. Instead, on this stormy week, she and Chu Hang ended up sitting together in the library… studying.

Chu Hang had ultimately decided to enter the Hopp Cup International University Student Architecture Design Competition, and he’d invited Tan Yin to be his partner and join him.

“This round’s competition theme is rural and modern architecture. I want to work on it with you.”

“Are you serious? If I actually joined, Zhu Kangmei might tear me apart, thinking I’m the rotten apple spoiling your whole batch…” Tan Yin thought it over, hesitant. “Besides, Zhu Kangmei already has a bias against women in the field to begin with—if I join and don’t do well enough, and end up dragging you down, wouldn’t that just be giving the rest of us women in the field a bad name?”

“Exactly why you should take it even more seriously and do a good job.” Chu Hang didn’t seem concerned by her worry at all. “Show Professor Zhu that women can absolutely excel in architecture too.”

“Besides, this competition is a team event to begin with—you can team up not just with classmates from our school, but also form alliances with students from other universities.” Chu Hang looked at her. “Do you want to see me team up with some other… girl?”

No!! Absolutely not!! No way!!

And so, before Tan Yin quite realized what had happened, she found herself thoroughly roped in by Chu Hang, and now, even during this stormy week, instead of going out on dates, she was sitting properly in the library doing research.

Rural architecture—if it meant residential housing, that felt too plain; building a supermarket or shopping center felt overly urbanized and modern, clashing with the rural, humanistic environment. Architecture was about the fusion of city and design, not standing out in stark contrast… After much deliberation, the two of them finally settled on designing a rural library and school as their theme.

Except Tan Yin and Chu Hang’s take on the rural library and school theme differed somewhat from the conventional approach. What they wanted to design was a space that, beyond accommodating regular children, would also openly welcome children who needed special education—like the blind, or the deaf and mute…

This idea had originally come from a sudden thought of Tan Yin’s. “Chu Hang, don’t you think that besides needing libraries and schools and education, rural areas probably also have a lot of children with special needs who deserve our care too? I’ve always felt architectural design should have a kind of universal value. Sure, plenty of iconic city landmarks are gorgeous and unique, unforgettable at a glance, but there’s also a huge gap in modest, truly user-centered, humane architecture. Like the museum we visited—did you notice that even though the design was already excellent, the designer didn’t actually account for the experience of visitors with disabilities in every detail? Sure, they thought about stairs and restrooms, but those are the obvious things anyone would think of. When it comes to actually viewing the exhibits, there was no consideration at all for people with disabilities.”

Chu Hang frowned thoughtfully. “Go on.”

Tan Yin cleared her throat. “This is just my personal opinion, might not be right. But I feel like—I’m able-bodied myself, and after that time I pretended to be blind, I still can’t say I fully understood what it’s like, but I at least got a small taste of what blind people experience daily. Even though our city infrastructure keeps improving, plenty of streets still don’t have tactile paving, or the tactile paving is blocked by obstacles, and beyond that, whether it’s shops or supermarkets, very few places have any design specifically for the blind.”

“I just feel like—good architecture is supposed to serve the needs of the majority, but there also has to be someone thinking of the minority too. Since you and I ended up connected through that whole blind-disguise incident, maybe it’s some kind of sign that we should do something for blind people, for people with disabilities? I know our design for this competition is meant to serve a rural area, which definitely needs a school and library, but beyond the regular rural children, there are also plenty who need special education—shouldn’t we factor them in too? I know good architecture is about meeting the needs of the majority, but the minority deserves someone advocating for them too! Precisely because their disabilities already limit how much they can participate in society—like how it’s nearly impossible for a blind person to become an architect, or to have any voice in this field at all—shouldn’t those of us who are able-bodied speak up on their behalf instead?”

Tan Yin had just been sharing her thoughts casually, not expecting Chu Hang to take her suggestion so seriously, but to her surprise, he really did consider it carefully, and genuinely decided to incorporate it into their joint design—

“Children with disabilities need completely different facilities from regular children, so putting special-needs children and regular children in the same school wouldn’t work well—trying to accommodate both might end up serving neither group’s actual needs properly, becoming a mess of neither one thing nor the other. So instead, why don’t we build two schools—one for the regular rural children, and one dedicated to children who need special education. As for the library, that could be combined into one, incorporating design considerations for the mobility of disabled and blind children, and setting aside a dedicated Braille reading room for blind children.”

The two of them sat together in the library’s public area, going back and forth like this, and before long, they’d more or less nailed down their design theme.

But since they were designing rural architecture, they’d naturally need to conduct on-site visits, touring well-regarded rural schools and libraries to study and learn from them firsthand.

Before long, summer break arrived, and Tan Yin and Chu Hang wasted no time—once they’d settled on a few field research sites, they threw themselves into the work with enthusiasm.

Once actually immersed in the “work,” Tan Yin discovered that being with Chu Hang, even when it wasn’t a date, was still tremendously enjoyable. The rural schools and libraries they’d chosen to visit were all quite remote, with poor transportation, and in the summer heat, the journey often took over an hour of bumpy travel each way, with Tan Yin nearly getting carsick and heatstroke more than once. Rural conditions weren’t as comfortable as the city, and after a day of fieldwork, her hair would often be soaked with sweat, her whole body grimy and disheveled—but even so, Tan Yin never once felt impatient, never once considered giving up for even a minute.

Chu Hang, beside her, fared no better. His white shirt was completely soaked through, sweat continually dripping off his sharply defined jaw, yet he still followed the principal of whichever school they were visiting that day with humble deference, asking about the building’s design and functionality from the perspective of an actual user, carefully noting down every response, trying to fully understand the details worth attending to in the school’s architectural design.

This time, they were visiting a school that had earned the title of “Most Beautiful Rural School,” and since it was so remote, they decided to stay for a few days—partly to rest from the travel, and partly because there were several other noteworthy rural schools and libraries nearby worth studying thoroughly.

Though conditions were tough, being able to follow Chu Hang out here, learning something real and practical from a professional perspective, made Tan Yin feel the trip was completely worthwhile. Rural conditions were quite poor here, and with no paved roads, the local economy was significantly underdeveloped. The two of them had to stay with a local family, and in this heat, without air conditioning, and since it was a last-minute stay, there wasn’t even a mosquito net—they were practically sharing the room with the mosquitoes.

None of this bothered Tan Yin at all. If she really wanted to properly learn architecture, if she really wanted to become a skilled architect someday, this kind of on-site fieldwork was nothing—she’d eventually have to deal with construction sites and even argue with contractors and clients. The one thing that did dampen her spirits a little was that Chu Hang, completely absorbed in this project, seemed to have entirely forgotten what day it was.

Today was Tan Yin’s birthday.

Though Tan Yin herself believed a birthday was really just an ordinary day among the 365, nothing to make a huge fuss over, this was still the first birthday she’d have since being with Chu Hang, and she couldn’t help but hope, at the very least, that he’d remember to wish her a happy birthday.

But this whole week, aside from touring rural school buildings, Chu Hang had been completely absorbed in the competition design project. Tan Yin slept in the same room as him, on two separate spring beds divided by a simple curtain, and several times she’d woken up groggily at one or two in the morning to find that, across the curtain, Chu Hang still hadn’t come to bed—he was diligently working on something in the main hall of the house.

At first, Tan Yin had assumed he was staying up late working on the design proposal, but every time she tried to peek at what he’d drawn the next day, Chu Hang would claim he hadn’t drawn much yet. She figured that, given his perfectionist, almost obsessive academic standards, he probably didn’t want to show anyone anything until he felt it was truly his best, most satisfying work.

Except…

Except that, from the very stroke of midnight on her birthday, he hadn’t slept at all, still absorbed in whatever he was working on in the main hall, and hadn’t even said a single word wishing her happy birthday.

Tan Yin had to admit that a focused, dedicated Chu Hang was utterly captivating, impossible to look away from—but forgetting his girlfriend’s birthday entirely because he was so busy still left her feeling a bit sulky.

She understood, too, that he was working incredibly hard for this design competition—before this, he’d only been staying up late, but these past two days, he’d been pulling all-nighters entirely. He must have simply been too exhausted and busy, and had genuinely forgotten.

Watching Chu Hang during the day, trying hard to suppress his own exhaustion while still diligently studying every detail of the rural school design, Tan Yin found herself torn over whether to remind him it was her birthday… She kept hoping he’d notice on his own, while also worrying that if he did realize, he’d feel guilty about it…

This hesitation lasted the entire day. After dinner that evening, Chu Hang once again silently disappeared into the main hall, working alone on who-knew-what, seemingly having not only forgotten her birthday but perhaps even forgotten he had a girlfriend at all.

And so, on the night of her own birthday, Tan Yin found herself lying alone, sulking, on the folding bed in the rented house, thinking resentfully to herself that she absolutely could never marry Chu Hang—he was still just a student, and already this devoted to architecture to the point of forgetting his girlfriend’s birthday. Once he actually started working, wouldn’t he just become one of those workaholics with no life outside their career?

But just as she was thinking this, she realized her whole train of thought was flawed—Chu Hang had never even mentioned marrying her! Maybe the one he really wanted to marry was his career!

Tan Yin lay there stewing in her imagined grievances, and eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep, her dreams a jumbled mess—one moment Chu Hang was hugging his architectural model, declaring he wanted to marry the model instead; the next, he was saying he’d seen through the vanities of the world and wanted to become a monk; and then, somehow, Chu Hang and Xu Yu were together, saying he’d just never realized it before, but now he’d finally found the right person, who’d been by his side all along…

“Tan Yin.”

The story in her dream made no logical sense, and Tan Yin even thought she could genuinely hear Chu Hang’s voice, right there by her ear, calling her name softly.

“Tan Yin.”

It wasn’t until she felt a gentle nudge on her shoulder that Tan Yin groggily realized this wasn’t a voice from her dream after all—Chu Hang really was calling her.

Tan Yin opened her bleary eyes, and sure enough, there was Chu Hang, sitting seriously by her bedside, lips pressed together.

“Tan Yin, are you awake?”

Tan Yin rubbed her eyes and nodded. “What time is it? What’s going on?”

“Eleven forty. Still today.” The lighting in the rural house wasn’t great, but even in the dim, yellowish light, Chu Hang’s eyes were burning bright. He looked at her and said, seriously, deliberately, one word at a time, “Tan Yin. Happy birthday.”

Tan Yin hadn’t thought much of it before, but hearing Chu Hang say this, her heart couldn’t help but ache with a bittersweet feeling. She forced a yawn, trying to disguise the tears threatening to spill from her eyes so it wouldn’t look like she was crying.

Eleven forty at night—Chu Hang had finally remembered it was her birthday, with only twenty minutes left to go, and all she got was this hurried, last-minute verbal acknowledgment…

“Tan Yin, I’ve been out and about lately gathering research materials, going from village to village nonstop. I’m really sorry, I haven’t had time to prepare a birthday gift—working on the design proposal has taken up so much of my time too…”

Right, right, Tan Yin knew in her heart Chu Hang was telling the truth, that he hadn’t intentionally forgotten her birthday, and that she should be understanding. But her heart still couldn’t help feeling a bit sad regardless.

But she didn’t want to make things difficult for him at all, so she forced back her tears and tried to sound calm. “It’s fine, I know you’ve been really busy lately, barely sleeping every night working on the design. I don’t mind not getting a gift, it’s fine, really, Chu Hang.”

But precisely because she was being so understanding, Chu Hang froze instead. He looked at her, then, at a complete loss, began wiping away her tears—it was only then that Tan Yin realized, without noticing, her tears had already started falling.

“Don’t cry, Tan Yin, don’t cry. I didn’t forget your birthday.” Chu Hang’s voice was gentle, full of self-reproach. “I’ll never forget your birthday.”

“This is your birthday gift.” As he wiped away her tears with one hand, he reached behind himself with the other and pulled out…

Pulled out a model?

Tan Yin stopped crying at this, looking at the model in Chu Hang’s hands with confusion and curiosity. The model was very roughly made, unpainted, simply assembled out of wooden boards, looking like it had been thrown together in a hurry. Looking closer, Tan Yin realized it appeared to be a model of a villa, and though rough, the design concept was actually quite innovative—even at a glance, it was clear Chu Hang had put real effort into this design.

But why was he giving her a model like this? Was this the birthday gift?

Holding the model in his hands, Chu Hang, for the first time, seemed nervous and anxious about his own work. “I know time’s been tight here in the village, but I’ve been working on your birthday gift this whole time. I originally wanted to buy you something, but the little shop in the village really didn’t have much to choose from, no cake either, I could only get this…” As he spoke, he pulled out a bag of chocolate pie snacks from behind him…

“The cake’s a rain check, I’ll make it up to you when we get back. For now, I figured this could tide us over.”

“Since the shop didn’t have anything decent to buy, I decided to make you something myself.” Having set down the snacks, he looked back at the model in his hands. “These past few nights, staying up—it wasn’t for the rural school proposal. It was for this.”

“What is this?”

“It’s a villa design. Actually, I finished the design and drawings for it a while ago, revised and refined it several times, but never got around to making the model. I never expected we’d end up entering this competition, never expected we’d end up out here doing fieldwork—I thought I’d have plenty of time before your birthday, was even thinking about trying 3D printing. But plans fell through, since we rushed out here to survey the rural schools, I didn’t even get to bring the tools and materials for model-making. I could only scavenge for materials in a few villages we’d already passed through, but I couldn’t find much, only these scrap wooden boards, and without proper cutting tools, that’s why the model turned out so rough…”

Chu Hang seemed nervous and uneasy, but Tan Yin finally understood—the fruits of his all-nighters this past week had been this villa model in his hands, except…

“Why would you make me a villa model?”

“You said I should take responsibility for you, that I should buy you that penthouse apartment at Hengxin Garden in the western district.”

Chu Hang said this in a flat, declarative tone, perfectly composed, but Tan Yin’s heart felt as though oil had suddenly hit water and burst into a crackling sizzle—she’d never expected Chu Hang would actually remember something she’d said so casually, in passing, as a joke. In that moment, Tan Yin sensed that whatever Chu Hang was about to say next would probably…

“I remember everything you’ve said.” Chu Hang, though, looked down at the ground, a little uncomfortable. “Tan Yin, I want to take responsibility for you.”

“You only asked for a penthouse apartment, but I want to give you the very best. I want you to live in a villa.”

“But I don’t have the money right now.” Chu Hang paused, a faint blush already creeping up his ears. “I can’t afford to buy you a villa to live in yet, Tan Yin. Wait for me a few years, and I’ll build you a villa exactly like this model.”

“I want to give you a home.”

This time, Chu Hang finally shed his earlier bashfulness, looking up to meet Tan Yin’s eyes directly. He looked at her like that and said, word by word—

“Happy birthday.”

In that instant, Tan Yin felt as though something had detonated inside her heart, exploding with a bang until nothing was left except her own wildly racing heartbeat and a scream threatening to burst from her throat.

This man, Chu Hang…

This man, Chu Hang, was truly…

Chu Hang, completely oblivious to the storm of emotion inside her, kept explaining earnestly, “You also said you wanted a Cayenne. I can’t afford that yet either, but I’ll definitely buy it for you eventually. The car and the house—I’ll give you both.”

Then, trying hard to stay composed, he reached behind himself again and pulled out a sketchbook, along with a photo album—

“Fortunately, I prepared this one ahead of time—it’s also part of your birthday gift.”

Tan Yin instinctively took the sketchbook and opened it. The first several pages were all Chu Hang’s architectural sketches, quite impressive, neatly and beautifully drawn…

“Keep flipping.”

Tan Yin instinctively kept turning the pages, and then…

Then she saw herself.

Sketched in the middle of drawing that museum from before.

This was… was this from that time the three of them—her, Anna, and Chu Hang—had gone to the museum together and sketched outside?

Tan Yin looked up at Chu Hang in astonishment.

Chu Hang merely pressed his lips together, looking away. “Mm, that’s from the museum trip. I didn’t draw the museum. I drew you.”

Tan Yin suddenly didn’t know how to describe what she was feeling in that moment, but it was probably something like tenderness and a fluttering heart, all at once. When she was very young, Tan Yin had once read a poem: “You stand on the bridge looking at the scenery, while someone watching the scenery from above looks at you. The bright moon adorns your window, and you adorn someone else’s dream.” She’d always thought that poem was so beautiful—beautiful to the point of feeling unreal, beautiful in a way that only existed within the dreamlike world of poetry, never in actual reality. But right now, she realized she’d been wrong.

It turned out that, without her ever realizing it, she’d already been held in Chu Hang’s heart, drawn onto his page.

What must he have been thinking at the time? Pretending to focus on the museum’s facade while secretly, distractedly watching her instead, carefully and attentively sketching the outline of her figure on paper, and every time she accidentally caught his gaze when she turned around, he’d put on that aloof, unaffected act as though nothing had happened?

Chu Hang’s acting skills, it turned out, could actually be pretty good sometimes.

Tan Yin stared at the sketch of herself, wanting to both laugh and cry. This man, Chu Hang…

Besides the sketchbook, there was also a photo album—what was that for?

With the excitement of unwrapping a present, Tan Yin opened the album, and once again saw herself, filling every page, all of her—herself standing by the museum’s water curtain wall, herself standing in front of exhibit cases, herself standing at the end of a long corridor…

These, clearly, were the photos Chu Hang had taken back then, when he’d impatiently called her over to use as a scale reference for his shots. And yet, in every single one of these photos, what should have been the main subject—the architectural design and details—was either cut off or blurry, while she herself was always perfectly centered, in perfect proportion, sharply focused, each shot somehow catching her smiling at exactly her most radiant.

“Didn’t photograph the buildings. Photographed you instead.”

So it turned out she’d never actually been the scale reference for those buildings—those buildings had been the backdrop for her all along…

“I confessed everything to you before, but not this part. Now, I’m telling you everything. Tan Yin, I have no more secrets from you.”

The blush had spread not just to Chu Hang’s ears now, but down his neck as well. “This is the first birthday I’ve spent with you. I’ll spend every birthday with you from now on.”

“I know the gift feels a bit rushed, but at least I managed to finish the model before midnight.”

“It’s not that I forgot your birthday—it’s that I hadn’t finished the model yet, didn’t have a proper gift ready, felt like I didn’t have the right to wish you happy birthday until it was done…”

Chu Hang kept explaining, but Tan Yin had already stopped paying attention.

She stared into his eyes. “Chu Hang, I’ll wait for you. Wait for you to give me a home.”

Chu Hang’s eyes brightened, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead, murmuring a solemn, almost ceremonial “Mm.” It was like a promise—one he had initiated, and which, with Tan Yin’s acceptance, now returned to rest upon him once more, forming a bond between them.

And in that moment, Chu Hang’s eyes shone as brilliantly as stars, and his smile was truly… truly…

Tan Yin suddenly didn’t want to bother searching for the right words anymore. In that moment, she didn’t want to say anything at all—she only wanted to hold this man in front of her, and kiss him.

And that was exactly what she did.

Before, Tan Yin had always believed everything Chu Hang said was right, but today, for the first time, she realized he might have been wrong about one thing—he’d said the greatest miracle in this world was the power of nature. Lightning, tsunamis, storms—nature truly was full of awe-inspiring, unpredictable power. But Tan Yin thought, the true miracle of the human world wasn’t the power of nature—it was love.

Love was the most beautiful thing in this entire universe.

However difficult things might be in this world, as long as two people loved each other, they could break through any prison and warm each other’s hearts.

Maybe every one of us has a kind of superpower, and as long as we plant a seed touched with love in our hearts, it will surely blossom into the most world-shattering miracle there is.

I want to become the best architect together with you, I want to achieve every dream together with you, I want to have the home I’ve always imagined with you, I want a future with you…

I love you. You are the best miracle I have ever found.