Life passed by at an unhurried pace, and Qi Xi felt utterly happy. Perhaps it really was the nourishing effect of love—now that she was properly, sweetly dating Gu Yan, she found her work hadn’t suffered at all. If anything, quite the opposite: her motivation kept growing. With the relationship stable, she no longer experienced the anxious highs and lows of uncertainty, and that calm state of mind actually let her throw herself into her career with even more energy.

“So the document this client wrote actually has no legal effect…”

“Right, and the follow-up marital fidelity agreement they wrote is equally useless.”

…

Whenever there was a particularly challenging case still unfinished at the firm, Qi Xi would go with Gu Yan to his apartment to keep working on it. In the past, long stretches of overtime always felt exhausting, but now, working alongside him, it felt like another form of dating.

Whenever she got tired of reading through materials or case files, she’d simply lean against him, putting on her best “I’m exhausted, I can’t move” expression. Every time, even knowing full well she was faking it, he still gave in.

This time, he had no choice but to pick her up and pull her into his arms. “Tired? Want to rest for a bit?”

“No.” She was being deliberately difficult. “Prop me up, I can still work.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Your eyes are closed. How exactly are you going to work like that?”

Sprawled against him, she lazily opened her eyes to glance at him. “Isn’t that what you’re for?” She reached up and gently touched his eyes. “Your eyes are my eyes.”

Being spoiled by him so often, she felt she was becoming increasingly “entitled,” but the feeling of being unconditionally accepted and doted on was addictive.

She kept up the coy act. “My eyes are closed, but my brain is still working at full speed, so you can just read it to me.”

She’d only said it half-jokingly, but to her surprise, he actually resigned himself and started reading aloud—

“One month after the marriage, the wife’s parents fully financed the purchase of a marital residence for the wife, totaling…”

This was the first time she’d ever “worked overtime” this way, but trying it out, she found she actually didn’t mind it at all.

His voice was low and clear, his pace steady, and she found she followed the case efficiently while listening, even discussing points with him along the way. The two of them managed to untangle this rather complicated divorce dispute case surprisingly quickly.

Still, after all that reading, he clearly deserved to be pampered a little—so afterward, Qi Xi thoughtfully “serviced” her human text-to-speech machine by pouring him a large glass of warm water to soothe his throat.

Though the maintenance standards for her human text-to-speech machine turned out to be rather demanding.

At his insistent request, she ended up feeding him the entire glass of water mouth to mouth.

But regardless, Qi Xi decided her human text-to-speech machine was quite useful after all. And he was good at reciprocating—before long, he’d washed a bowl of strawberries and was feeding them to her one by one as she lounged lazily across his lap.

She’d never expected that leaning on him would lead to such an easy, pampered life.

Still, even relaxed as she was, Qi Xi suddenly remembered some unfinished business. She sat up from his lap. “Oh right! Besides Zhao Yiran, I think there’s someone else I should tell about us!”

Puzzled, he asked, “Besides both our families, who else is there to tell?”

She kept it a secret, saying nothing, just mysteriously pulling out her phone and opening the “Gu Yan Appreciation Society” group chat—

“Update for everyone: Gu Yan and I are officially together now. Even though I ended up with a completely fabricated ‘Complete Guide to Gu Yan’ by mistake, maybe that’s just how fate works for us. You’re all basically our matchmakers, so here’s a red envelope as thanks!”

After that, she sent a large cash gift, followed by an intimate couple photo of the two of them.

Probably because there was an actual photo of him, the group chat immediately lit up.

As expected, Qi Xi was met with a string of question marks and ellipses.

Before long, the group admin messaged her privately—

“Sis, have you seen a doctor about this? Feels like your condition’s gotten more serious!”

Before Qi Xi could respond, another message came through. “Though I have to say, your photoshopping skills are pretty good—super natural. Actually, our main site’s been short on a good graphic designer lately, want to join? Members of the site sometimes get slightly blurry candid photos of Gu Yan from encounters, and the designer’s job is to sharpen them up or clean up the background. It’s unpaid, but there are perks—you’d get access to all the latest photos and info on Gu Yan.”

The admin seemed rather enthusiastic. “I can tell you started out just liking his looks, but you’ve stuck around this long, so I guess it grew into genuine appreciation for who he is. Why not just officially join us? That guide you got was fake, but once you’re on the inside, you’ll get the real deal!”

The admin seemed quite chatty. “By the way, where’d you find that photo of the girl? She’s pretty cute, is she some kind of rising idol or something? She looks good, but next time don’t edit it in so obviously, or you might get sued by her lawyers, and it could cause trouble for our Gu Yan too, you know. Also, if you’re really this fixated on Gu Yan, maybe consider seeing a counselor—focus on your studies too, don’t let chasing after Gu Yan take over your whole life!”

Reading through this wall of text, Qi Xi couldn’t help but find it amusing.

She hadn’t paid much attention to it before, but this time, she clicked into the admin’s profile, and sure enough, found their age listed: fifteen.

Turns out the admin was just a kid herself.

Qi Xi shot Gu Yan an accusing look. “Look at yourself, attracting so much attention. I thought this group was full of our schoolmates, and there’s a fifteen-year-old in here. So the question is, where exactly did you go around charming children?”

He looked utterly helpless. “That’s a false accusation.” He caught her hand, pulled her close, and kissed her cheek. “Even if I really did charm people around in college, I was a failed flower at best—the butterfly I wanted to attract never so much as glanced my way. By the time my blooming season was nearly over, that one butterfly finally, mercifully, noticed me.”

What was that supposed to mean?!

The nerve of him!

Some “flower whose blooming season was nearly over”—thinking back on his performance most nights recently, that description didn’t add up at all.

Still…

She figured she ought to clear things up properly.

She started typing: “Do you want to video call? Gu Yan is right here with me.”

Without waiting for a response, she dialed straight into a video call.

The admin, understandably skeptical, answered anyway. On the screen appeared the face of a fifteen-year-old girl, who launched into an old-fashioned lecture with a knowing air—

“Sis, I already told you, I’m not falling for this—”

But before she could finish, she caught sight of Gu Yan appearing beside Qi Xi and let out a shriek. “G-G-Gu Yan???”

Qi Xi poked him. “Come on, say hi to your little fan.”

Though somewhat reluctant, he waved politely at the screen. “Hello, I’m Gu Yan. Thank you for your support.”

He pulled Qi Xi closer. “Let me introduce her properly—this really is my girlfriend, Qi Xi.”

His expression stayed composed as he glanced at the flustered, bespectacled girl on the screen, clearly still reeling. “I saw the ‘Complete Guide to Gu Yan’ you all made for my girlfriend. It was well written—but please don’t make another one.”

“I had to eat a lot of durian I was forced to eat, and endure a lot of heavy metal music I was forced to listen to.” He gave a small smile. “Thank you all for your support, but I hope you’ll focus on your studies, and maybe one day become alumni of mine and my girlfriend’s university.”

Qi Xi took the phone back. “See, sweetie? No photoshop at all. Thanks for all your love for Gu Yan, but maybe don’t put so much effort into that fan club making fake guides anymore—it’s pretty misleading. If you really like Gu Yan, just listen to what he said: study hard, spend less time online, got it?”

By this point, the girl on the other end had lost all her earlier bravado, nodding rapidly. “Got it, got it, thank you for connecting with me, sis. You’re so pretty, and you two really match! Wishing you a hundred years of happiness and children soon…”

Qi Xi hung up, still shaken. “Kids these days are wild. Already talking about children.”

At her complaint, he seemed almost displeased. “What’s wrong with wishing us a hundred years of happiness and children soon?”

She blinked. “Do you want to get married and have kids this soon?”

He cleared his throat. “It’s not… not impossible.”

Looking bashful, he immediately changed the subject. “By the way, did you notice the family trust portion in that property division case from earlier?”

Once he mentioned work, she stopped thinking about anything else, and the two of them quickly fell back into discussing the case.

Actually, Qi Xi didn’t need to be working this hard right now, since tomorrow was already the eve of the Lunar New Year, and many of her colleagues at the firm had already taken leave. But being a Rong City native, with her boyfriend right there beside her, going to work felt fulfilling enough that she never considered taking time off.

“So, how are you planning to spend the New Year? Want to go out and do something for New Year’s Eve tomorrow?”

But to her invitation, he shook his head without hesitation. “No, I have something tomorrow.”

Disappointment was an understatement. Her mother, having thrown herself into work as well, was planning to stay at her own firm and work through the holiday. Qi Xi had been hoping Gu Yan could spend New Year’s Eve with her instead, and now he had plans too.

“What about after you finish whatever it is? Not even a minute to spare?”

But even after all that, he still firmly shook his head. “No, I don’t have any time tomorrow.”

With him being this firm about it, it seemed he really did have something important going on.

She felt a pang of disappointment and melancholy, but hid it well. The next day at work, though, seeing his empty seat, she still felt a little down—she realized that even being apart from him for a minute made her miss him.

He seemed genuinely busy that day, too, because he hadn’t replied to a single message she’d sent.

Since it was the last working day before the holiday, the firm was nearly empty of staff. Even Gu Xuehan, who normally held out till the very end, had left early due to some unexpected matter.

Bored, Qi Xi flipped through some emails for a while, found nothing to do, and was debating whether to head home when Zhao Yiran called.

“Qi Xi, are you free right now? Could you help me pick something up near my coworker’s place? It’s some materials I submitted for a skills competition at our court. I was going to have my coworker mail it to me, but the courier services have already stopped for the holiday.” Zhao Yiran’s voice sounded a little urgent. “Sorry, I left in such a rush going home I forgot to bring it.”

Zhao Yiran wasn’t originally from Rong City and had taken leave from the court a few days early to avoid the Spring Festival travel rush. Hearing the urgency in her voice, Qi Xi figured it must genuinely be important and immediately agreed. “Send me the address, I’m free anyway, I’ll go pick it up.”

After hanging up, Zhao Yiran sent the address. It wasn’t far from the firm, in a nearby upscale commercial district, with the meeting point set at the fountain sculpture in the center of the plaza.

Without wasting time, Qi Xi grabbed her bag and headed straight out.

She arrived quickly at the agreed spot, but found that the plaza, normally deserted around the holidays, was surprisingly crowded today. There were plenty of people gathered around the fountain sculpture too.

Unable to tell which person might be Zhao Yiran’s coworker, she pulled out her phone and dialed the number Zhao Yiran had given her.

She soon heard a phone ringing nearby, and just as she turned to follow the sound, the fountain in front of her suddenly burst to life.

That musical fountain, usually only activated on holidays, always drew massive crowds when it ran—but it typically didn’t start until New Year’s Day. Why was it going off today…

Before she could finish being surprised, not only had the fountain switched on, but the surrounding lights suddenly lit up too, and music began playing.

Then, the pedestrians who’d just been walking normally suddenly scattered and reformed into orderly rows in front of her, and, in time with the beat, began to dance.

It clicked for her then.

This was a flash mob.

Just as she considered stepping back to become an innocent bystander, the girl leading the dance suddenly leapt lightly right in front of her, took her hand, and guided her step by step toward the front of the fountain sculpture, where she noticed a somewhat bulging envelope waiting.

Completely at a loss, she stared curiously at the envelope, unsure what she was supposed to do.

Finally, the lead dancer picked up the envelope and placed it in her hands.

“This is for me?”

The girl smiled and nodded, then lightly leapt away again, rejoining the dancing crowd.

The whole sequence of events felt dreamlike. Before Qi Xi could even open the envelope, the dance formation that had surrounded her suddenly parted like a receding tide.

At that same moment, the music changed.

An English love song began playing, its melody filling the entire plaza.

Qi Xi barely had time to register it before the fountain behind her began shifting its water jets and lighting in time with the music, and through the path the dancers had opened, she saw him standing there, dressed in a suit.

As a lawyer, he was certainly used to formal wear, but in this moment he looked faintly nervous. He crossed through the crowd, his gaze meeting hers, unwavering, as though looking straight into her heart—open, resolute, and full of courage, as if in this moment he no longer intended to hold anything back, ready to lay his heart bare and confess everything he felt for her. His expression carried an unmistakable anticipation, as though he’d been waiting for this moment for a very long time.

Then, as the music played, he walked toward her, and amid her racing heartbeat and disbelief, he dropped to one knee.

In that instant, all her earlier resentment about him not being able to spend the holiday with her, all her loneliness about facing the New Year alone, vanished, replaced by an indescribable mix of wild nervousness, anticipation, sweetness, and disbelief.

Then he spoke the words, like an incantation from a fairy tale—

“Qi Xi, will you marry me?”

Looking into her eyes, kneeling there, he looked like a knight in submission, willing to charge into battle for her, willing to fight for her in any way necessary.

Though he was the one who had arranged all of this in advance, in this moment he looked no more composed than she felt—flustered and nervous, his voice carrying a tremor he was clearly trying to suppress. But in this moment, in front of the person he loved, he’d shed every mask, facing himself honestly, facing her honestly.

“Qi Xi, will you?” His eyes stayed fixed on hers, his tone gentle but resolute. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

She’d never imagined a scene like something out of a romantic drama would ever happen to her. She nearly burst into tears of joy, but quickly caught herself, pressing her lips together to hold them back. “Where’s the ring, then? A proposal should have a ring, shouldn’t it?”

But his expression stayed composed. “Have you opened your envelope yet?” he coaxed gently. “Take a look inside.”

Trembling, she finally opened the envelope and discovered it held far more than expected—besides a postcard, the envelope itself unfolded into a paper rose, and nestled right in the center of the flower was the ring.

“Will you? I want to spend forever by your side, as your legal spouse.”

Looking at the ring, she felt tears welling up.

“If you don’t answer soon, I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, though still a little nervous, he was far more composed than she was, quickly regaining control of the moment. “Won’t you help me up so I can put the ring on you?”

She found she was completely unable to refuse—she supposed she’d never really had the ability to refuse him in the first place.

In a daze of excitement, half-convinced she was dreaming, she watched him kiss her fingers before sliding the ring onto her hand. The crowd around them erupted into prolonged cheers and applause, but to her, all of it felt distant—in this moment, she could only see him, could only hear his voice, his words.

Having succeeded in his proposal, he seemed to finally exhale, as though completing some major life mission, but soon enough, he kissed her cheek again and gently prompted her, “Take a look at the postcard in your hand.”

Only then did she remember the postcard she’d pulled from the envelope. Looking down, her eyes went wide as she looked back up at him.

This was unmistakably the postcard from that time at the Cat’s Sky City bookstore, the one he’d written to his future self.

“Wasn’t this mailed already? How is it in your hands?”

He looked a little embarrassed. “I originally wrote it to be delivered to you on this exact day, this New Year’s. But circumstances changed, so today I went early to intercept it from the place you and Zhao Yiran live.” He looked at her, his tone firm. “Because I wanted to give it to you myself.”

Through tear-blurred eyes, she finally made out the words on the postcard—

“Qi Xi, the one I’ve loved all along is you, the one I’ve secretly cared for is you. I’m tired of being some model of restraint and propriety, tired of silently watching over you from a distance forever. You once said that a secret crush is permissible, but confessing is a crime. Well, if confessing is a crime, I’m willing to bear every consequence, if it means I can get even one step closer to you.”

“I love you. Forever.”

She felt like she could barely breathe. Tears finally spilled over as she looked at him. “So this is what you wanted to tell me back then?”

“Mm.” He smiled. “A little silly, isn’t it?”

Her emotions still churning, she asked, “Why choose this day, right before New Year, to propose and give me the postcard from the future?”

“Because I wanted every future New Year to make me think of you, to think of this memory. I thought that way, every new year would carry more anticipation, more happiness.”

Her curious nature couldn’t help but surface even now, and she glanced down at the ring on her hand. “But what if I’d said no? Wouldn’t every New Year after that have been painful?”

Was he really that confident, so certain his confession or proposal could never fail?

“I did consider what would happen if it failed. But I thought, even if you turned me down, it would still stand as proof that I’d tried for you, giving me something new to strive for each New Year, a way to keep working toward what I hadn’t managed to accomplish the year before.”

His tone was calm, but she understood exactly how much resolve lay beneath it. Gu Yan had never been one for empty words—writing that postcard to his future self, he must have been utterly resolute in his determination to keep trying.

She suddenly thought that she’d been right all along—a secret crush might be permissible, but this kind of confession truly was a crime, because in this moment, she felt her heart might stop beating from sheer happiness.

She wanted to thank fate for its quiet arrangements, to thank him for daring to commit this crime of confession, to thank every bit of love and every chance encounter that had led here.

She said yes.