In the year Li Wu turned twenty-nine, he was promoted to associate professor. Approaching thirty, he had completely shed his youthful inexperience. His features became more handsome and sharp, and his demeanor grew more composed.

Being in his twenties didn’t make him more approachable to students. Instead, he was a strict and methodical professor. In class, he would wear silver-rimmed glasses, appearing aloof and detached, but this didn’t affect how engaging his lectures were. He taught from basics to advanced concepts, captivating his audience.

Students from other departments and schools frequently attended his lectures, but to many’s dismay, this impeccable academic idol had one major flaw: he married young.

His students all knew he got married at 22, and his wife was more than ten years his senior. With each new class, students would curiously ask about his marital status, so during self-introductions, he began adding “married” unprompted – he might as well have carved it on his forehead.

Even so, admirers continued to pursue him, confident such a relationship couldn’t last. Until one day, he issued an unnamed warning in class: “I hope certain students will stop sending me strange messages. They serve no purpose except amusing my wife.”

This simple statement made the handsome, accomplished, and devoted Associate Professor Li trend on the campus forum again. Some students mocked his marriage: “This isn’t just an older sister romance – with more than ten years’ difference, it’s practically aunt and nephew. A forty-year-old woman? Professor Li could do so much better.”

But informed students responded: “LOL if you knew who his wife was, you wouldn’t be talking.”

Curious onlookers demanded details. The person replied: “My father worked with his wife’s company. I’ve dined with both of them. His wife is the founder of 2C.”

The founder? Everyone searched and dug up recent photos of Professor Li’s wife from news articles and posts, sharing them in the thread.

People exclaimed:

“Holy shit, she’s forty?”

“She’s gorgeous! They’re perfect together.”

“I’d take a forty-year-old like her any day.”

“HAHAHA look at the earlier comments – they should take a good look at themselves.”

“She’s actually from our university too, from the School of Journalism! That’s it, she’s officially my idol!”

“Here’s an old meme: A perfect match of talent and beauty, who are you to object.jpg”

—

During summer break, Li Wu returned from his overseas academic exchange and had time to pick up their child from daycare every day.

One day, he arrived at the kindergarten right on time and heard the teacher call out, “Cen Xiang, your father’s here!”

A little girl with two pigtails called out “Papa” and bounced into his arms. Li Wu smiled as he lifted her, tweaking her round little nose.

His and Cen Jin’s daughter was almost four now. Her full name was Cen Xiang, her nickname was Lili, and she looked more like her father. Especially those big eyes, clear as jewels, identical to Li Wu’s.

After securing his daughter in the car seat, Li Wu returned to the driver’s seat and heard her muttering from behind: “Li Wu, when can I stop using this?”

The three of them used each other’s full names in private.

Li Wu turned to look at her, lips curving: “Twelve.”

“Ah―” Lili’s mouth dropped open, eyebrows drooping. “That’s so long!”

Li Wu said, “It’ll go by quickly.”

Lili asked, “Then can I sit in the front passenger seat after I turn twelve?”

Li Wu thought for a moment: “You can sit in the front of Mom’s car.”

Lili scoffed: “Why don’t you ask Cen Jin if she’ll allow that?”

“Now?”

“We can ask when we get back.”

“Let’s ask now.”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

He just missed his wife. Li Wu immediately took out his phone and video-called Cen Jin.

She answered quickly, her beautiful face appearing in the center of the screen: “What is it?”

Li Wu said, “I picked up Lili, we’ll come get you from the office later.”

Cen Jin asked, “Where is she?”

Li Wu: “Don’t you want to look at me first?”

Cen Jin’s lips curved as she drew out the words “So-hand-some” for three seconds before saying indulgently, “Alright, I’ve looked.”

Only then did Li Wu turn the phone toward their daughter.

Lili pulled at her eyelids and made a face: “Gross.”

Cen Jin smiled at her: “What’s gross? Did you eat something bad?”

Lili said, “None of the other kids in my class have parents as mushy as you two.”

Cen Jin: “How do you know they’re not? You just don’t see it.”

“Fine,” Lili thought that made sense and returned to the main topic: “When I don’t need the car seat anymore, can I sit in your front seat?”

Cen Jin said, “Of course, you’re welcome to.”

Lili glanced at her smiling father: “Then why won’t Li Wu let me?”

Cen Jin said, “Lili, think about it – if you sit in dad’s front seat, won’t mom be lonely all alone in the back? Mom would be scared.”

Lili’s eyes widened in sudden realization: “Oh right, I’ll sit in the back with you then.”

Then Lili had another thought: “But if we both sit in the back, won’t Li Wu be scared alone in front?”

The usually composed Associate Professor Li called out loudly: “Of course I would!”

Lili frowned at him, then scratched her head: “Then you two can sit in front, I’m not scared at all.”

Why were adults such cowards?

At three years old, Cen Xiang couldn’t yet understand. She only knew that apart from work and business trips, her parents were together almost every moment.

Too scared to walk alone, saying it’s dark outside – they need to hold hands;

Too scared to sleep alone, saying they’ll catch a cold – they need to cuddle;

Too scared to cook alone, saying hot oil might splash – they need to shield each other.

And now, they had to travel together, saying the journey was long and tiring – they needed to accompany each other.

—

The next morning, Li Wu took Cen Jin out.

He was mysteriously silent about their destination. Cen Jin asked throughout half the journey until she saw the Shengzhou landmark and finally understood, glancing at the man driving: “You’re going back to your hometown?”

Li Wu glanced at her, lips slightly curved: “Yes.”

“Why suddenly decide to go back?” Cen Jin squinted at the blazing sun outside.

Li Wu said, “I want to show you something.”

Cen Jin blinked, curiosity peaking: “What is it? Can you give me a preview?”

Li Wu replied: “You’ll know when we get there.”

The village had changed dramatically, with many new cement roads replacing the bumpy old ones.

Li Wu parked in front of the village committee office. After more than ten years, it had been renovated into a two-story building, with more young blood moving in, bringing new vitality to the village.

He got out and went around to take Cen Jin’s hand from the passenger side.

Interlocking fingers had become their natural gesture, as automatic as breathing and heartbeats.

Hearing the car, a familiar face came out to greet them. Cen Jin quickly recognized her and called out, “Miss Cheng.”

Li Wu said, “It’s Village Chief Cheng now.”

Cen Jin’s eyes curved in a smile: “Village Chief Cheng, please excuse my ignorance.”

“Not at all, I’m just a small village official,” Cheng Lixue smiled back and greeted them, then turned to Li Wu and asked, “Teacher Li, should I give you the certificate now?”

Cen Jin raised her eyebrows in confusion: “What certificate?”

Li Wu glanced at Cen Jin: “Yes, but don’t give it to me – it’s for her.”

Cheng Lixue led them inside, took out a file from the top of the cabinet, and carefully extracted a certificate, handing it to Cen Jin: “This is for the Hope Primary School donated to Yunfeng Village under your name by your husband two years ago. It was completed last year and has been operating for over a year now, with more than a hundred students enrolled.”

Cen Jin looked at Li Wu in surprise, speechless for a moment.

Li Wu smiled, “Take a look.”

Cen Jin lowered her eyes, shocked again by the amount, then looked back at him: “I had no idea.”

Li Wu said, “How could you know? This is your fortieth birthday present that I spent nearly three years preparing. Do you like it?”

Cen Jin tucked her hair behind her ear, still somewhat incredulous: “You really…”

If they weren’t in front of others, she would have punched him, then kissed him – feeling both angry and touched, love and hate intermingled.

Cen Jin pointed outside: “Can we go see it?”

Li Wu nodded: “That’s why I brought you here.”

As they walked out, he complained playfully: “It’s so hard for me – you’re too excellent and independent. You don’t need this, don’t need that, say buying things is a waste of money, and when I try to give you money directly, you say I’m materialistic. So I had nowhere to spend my savings except doing good deeds in your name.”

Cen Jin snorted coldly, wanting to tease him but couldn’t find the words, only feeling moved – deeply, completely moved.

This feeling multiplied a hundredfold when Cen Jin saw the actual school.

It was summer vacation, and the campus was quiet and empty, but fully equipped with a sports field, running track, and two reddish-brown buildings standing proudly, looking spirited and new against the lush green mountains.

Cen Jin’s nose tingled as the school’s name blurred in her vision.

Six characters in white on red: Jin’an Hope Primary School.

The boy beside her sought praise: “How’s the school name?”

“How’s what?” The woman’s voice was slightly choked.

“I chose it. Is it nice?”

“Is there any special meaning?” She played dumb, asking what she already knew: “I don’t quite understand~”

Li Wu pulled her into his arms, his chest rumbling with laughter as clear as the mountain breeze: “No special meaning, just what you see.”

It was also his greatest wish, his only wish, from age seventeen until now.

His sister, his wife, his lifelong love – may she always be happy and peaceful.