Before moving in together, Zhu Wenshu had assumed it would take her a long time to adjust to cohabiting with someone.

After all, in her whole life, she had never lived under the same roof with a man alone before, and had no idea how to adjust to that kind of life.

But that turned out not to be the case.

Perhaps because he’d once had to take care of a father who couldn’t manage daily life on his own, Ling Chen’s ability to handle everyday matters far surpassed Zhu Wenshu’s.

He also didn’t like other people getting too involved in his life, and generally handled things himself.

It was nothing like the celebrity lifestyle Zhu Wenshu had imagined, one surrounded by assistants who even held an umbrella for you.

In the mornings, someone got up early to cook. At night, someone closed the windows. On sunny days, someone helped hang the blankets out to air; during the rainy season, someone put the umbrella by the entryway in advance.

Even packages left forgotten and unopened in the storage room would, within a few days, get sorted out, the boxes neatly stacked by the front door waiting for the cleaning service to take away.

Zhu Wenshu had also assumed that once they lived together, things wouldn’t be all that different from living alone.

After all, Ling Chen was usually busy, always shuttling from one place to another.

But during this stretch of time, he’d been spending a lot of time at home.

Sometimes Zhu Wenshu would assume he wasn’t coming back, only to wake up the next morning and find him lying right there beside her.

Spring had come early to Jiangcheng this year, and the plants Zhu Wenshu had been gradually buying grew lush and full—occasionally attracting mosquitoes too.

Ever since Teacher Zhong finished her maternity leave and came back, Zhu Wenshu had been relieved of her homeroom teacher duties, and suddenly had much more free time.

But she wasn’t entirely idle either—Ling Chen had said he wanted to switch to a different apartment, one closer to Experimental Primary School, and not quite so large, since it sometimes felt too empty as it was.

So whenever they had time, they’d go wandering around near the school, and before long they’d found a new second-hand apartment they liked. The landlord had just finished renovating and hadn’t moved out yet, but had run into some money troubles and needed to turn the place around quickly, and was eager to sell.

The décor, however, was rather over-the-top, so after the transfer went through, they immediately started tearing everything out to redo it.

This particular evening, after finishing dinner, Zhu Wenshu threw on a long-sleeved knit cardigan and crouched on the balcony, carefully turning the soil.

Hearing the sound of the door’s passcode lock, she turned her head and, sure enough, saw Ling Chen coming in with his coat over his arm.

Wasn’t there supposed to be a dinner meeting tonight?

Watching Ling Chen change his shoes, hang up his coat, and walk toward the balcony, Zhu Wenshu said with a smile, “Did you lose all your work after your relationship became public?”

Ling Chen didn’t stop walking, only raising an eyebrow slightly.

Zhu Wenshu said, “Time for early retirement?”

“Maybe so.”

Ling Chen, remembering something, turned and headed toward the kitchen instead. “If I retire early, will Teacher Zhu support me?”

Zhu Wenshu thought it over. “Then hang in there a bit longer, I’ll work on getting a raise.”

Ling Chen didn’t say anything else. He opened the fridge, glanced inside, then turned. “We’re out of yogurt?”

“I saw it was expired so I threw it all out.”

Zhu Wenshu frowned. “You shouldn’t buy so much of stuff with a short shelf life like that all at once, we can never finish it in time.”

“Oh.”

Ling Chen shut the fridge. “Should we run to the supermarket to restock, then?”

By then the sky was starting to darken, but with the weather being so pleasant, Zhu Wenshu nodded without a second thought.

“Then put your coat on.”

There was a supermarket nearby, but since they usually bought a fair amount, they still drove over.

Today was a weekday, so in theory there shouldn’t be too many people around. Ling Chen didn’t bother putting on a mask when he got out of the car. But when they reached the entrance, they found the discount stalls swarming with people. Seeing this, Ling Chen hesitated a little in his steps.

If anything unexpected happened, he’d probably end up drawing as much of a crowd as the discounted goods themselves.

Just thinking about it was suffocating.

Zhu Wenshu glanced at him, pulled a folded mask out of her bag, and stood on her toes to put it on him.

“Good thing Teacher Zhu thinks of everything.”

“Mm-hm.”

Ling Chen let his eyes droop and pulled Zhu Wenshu quickly through the crowd of people queuing.

After pushing the cart through the first floor, they headed down to the fresh produce section on the basement level.

Though she kept saying they shouldn’t buy too much, Zhu Wenshu had recently taken quite an interest in cooking, and wanted to buy a little of everything she saw.

Before she knew it, the cart was full.

When they got to the chilled section, Zhu Wenshu was still thinking about buying a couple cartons of fresh milk when a tub of ice cream was suddenly tossed into the cart.

Zhu Wenshu turned to look at Ling Chen. “What are you doing?”

“Didn’t you want ice cream?”

Ling Chen said, expressionless.

“When did I ever say that?”

Zhu Wenshu put the ice cream back where it belonged, frowning. “Can’t you hold off on it? The doctor said you need to avoid cold, stimulating foods like this—do you not care about your stomach at all?”

“I’m already fine now.”

Ling Chen reached out to grab it again, but seeing Zhu Wenshu glaring at him, he pulled his hand back just as it touched the freezer case. “Fine.”

They walked on a little further, and Ling Chen tilted his head toward the display shelf, suddenly asking, “Orange soda—want some?”

“No.”

Zhu Wenshu didn’t even turn around. “Carbonated drinks are bad for your teeth, I don’t want to end up with a big yellow smile.”

A moment later, she sensed something and turned to see Ling Chen still standing there, not moving.

“What are you doing?” Zhu Wenshu suddenly laughed. “Fine, get it then, just don’t put it in the freezer.”

Ling Chen picked up two bottles, and just as he was about to put them into the cart, he heard Zhu Wenshu say quietly, “What are you being so stubborn over soda for—I’m twenty-six, it’s normal for your favorite things to change, isn’t it?”

Ling Chen’s hand paused. Head lowered, the corner of his mouth curved up.

“So what do you love now, then?”

“Let me think.”

Zhu Wenshu put the soda he was holding back on the shelf. “My boyfriend, I guess.”

The words had barely left her mouth, and before Ling Chen could react, two girls came over, holding hands and looking self-conscious.

They glanced at Ling Chen, then peeked at Zhu Wenshu’s expression, and seeing a faint hint of amusement in her eyes, worked up the courage to speak. “Um… could we get a photo with you? We, we just—”

“Sure.”

Ling Chen said.

The two girls hadn’t expected him to agree so readily, and fumbled their phones out in a flustered rush, glancing back and forth at each other, too excited to think straight.

“I’ll take it for you two.”

Zhu Wenshu reached out a hand toward them. “Together, or separately?”

“Separately, please.”

Zhu Wenshu nodded.

By this point, she and Ling Chen had already been photographed who knows how many times without knowing—while out for a walk, eating out, shopping.

Situations like today, where they were recognized and asked for a photo, had happened before too, so Zhu Wenshu had already gotten used to the whole routine, taking the phone smoothly.

“Take a few more,” Zhu Wenshu said, looking at the phone screen. “You two can pick which one you like.”

“Okay… thank you.”

After the two girls took their photos back, they didn’t rush off right away, instead looking at Zhu Wenshu somewhat timidly. “Could we get a photo with you too?”

“……”

This was the first time Zhu Wenshu had run into this particular situation, and before she could figure out what to say, Ling Chen said, “Sorry, she doesn’t take photos.”

“Oh, okay! Sorry to bother you, thank you both!”

The two girls walked away, glancing back repeatedly, so excited they nearly tripped over their own feet.

“Let’s go.”

Ling Chen pulled his mask back up, then suddenly added, “See? The mask doesn’t even do much.”

Unfortunately, Zhu Wenshu didn’t hear him—she’d already wandered over to the bakery section to pick out bread.

Half an hour later, the two of them checked out and left.

Zhu Wenshu sat in the passenger seat, and once the car pulled up its navigation, she took out the receipt and started checking off the prices item by item.

But Ling Chen kept chattering about random things beside her, interrupting her repeatedly.

“You don’t have class tomorrow morning, right? Can you skip going into school?”

“I already told you, I have a teacher-development meeting in the morning.”

Zhu Wenshu paused mid-sentence, then looked slowly over at Ling Chen. “Why is there still ice cream on the receipt?”

Ling Chen: “.”

Zhu Wenshu was quite annoyed, and yet also wanted to laugh.

She couldn’t understand why Ling Chen sometimes turned so childish, just like one of her students.

But somehow, she didn’t mind it. Even when she was angry, after some time had passed and she thought back on it, she’d only feel like these little marks of everyday life were sinking deeper and deeper into her. Sometimes furious enough to stomp her foot, sometimes too speechless to talk, and slowly, Jiangcheng eased into autumn—

On a Tuesday in mid-October, Zhu Wenshu suddenly got a call from Zhu Qisen, asking if she was free the next evening—he needed her to trick Shi Xue’er into going to the movies with her, because he was going to propose there.

“Huh? So sudden?”

“Not sudden at all,” Zhu Qisen said. “We’ve been together a year now, might as well get married—otherwise it’s a waste of her youth, isn’t it. Tomorrow is our one-year anniversary.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Zhu Wenshu said, “Why are you only telling me this today? I was actually planning to go see a movie tomorrow night anyway.”

“That’s… I was worried you’d let it slip.”

“……Fine, tell me the details.”

“There’s nothing much to it,” Zhu Qisen said. “Just invite her to the movies. Get there a little late, that way once the lights go out she won’t be able to see the people in the theater.”

Zhu Wenshu asked a few more questions about the specifics, and just as she was about to hang up, Zhu Qisen added, “Oh, and—can you bring Ling Chen too? Hehe, I figure if he’s there, Xue’er will definitely be over the moon.”

“……I was already going to be watching the movie with him anyway.”

Zhu Wenshu paused. “You think I’d just leave him at home?”

“Great! Teacher Zhu, I owe you big time, I’ll never forget it!”

Zhu Qisen’s plan was flawless—he’d rented out an entire theater, invited a bunch of friends, and planned to play a slideshow of photos and videos from him and Shi Xue’er’s year together.

With Ling Chen there on top of it, he was confident there was no way Shi Xue’er wouldn’t be moved to tears and say yes to his proposal.

But what he never anticipated was that the one stumbling block in his entire plan would turn out to be Ling Chen himself.

That afternoon, Zhu Wenshu deliberately delayed a little, using the excuse of running late from class, and by the time she and Shi Xue’er arrived, the theater was, sure enough, pitch black.

The two of them, cradling popcorn, hunched over as they felt their way to their seats. A few minutes later, the screen lit up.

The moment she saw the footage, Shi Xue’er understood immediately what was happening, and tears burst out at once, popcorn spilling all over the floor.

By the time the video ended and the lights came up across the theater, and Zhu Qisen, holding a bouquet of roses and a ring, dropped to one knee in front of her, her makeup was already ruined from crying.

Zhu Qisen was a little choked up too, stammering, “Xue’er, will you marry me?”

“I—I……” Shi Xue’er said, wiping at her tears, “I don’t really want to.”

Zhu Qisen: “?”

Everyone in the room went silent.

“I don’t want to get, get married……” She turned, tears streaming, to look at Ling Chen and Zhu Wenshu. “If I get married I won’t be able to be a bridesmaid for Teacher Zhu and Ling Chen.”

Zhu Wenshu: “……”

Ling Chen: “……”

At that, every single pair of eyes in the room turned toward Ling Chen and Zhu Wenshu.

Zhu Wenshu was actually a little embarrassed—she and Ling Chen had never once discussed marriage, and here she suddenly found herself put on the spot.

She cleared her throat, not sure how to respond, and could only toss the question over to Ling Chen.

The two of them exchanged a glance. Ling Chen pressed his lips together, looking wordlessly at his diehard fan.

“We don’t mind.”

With a wailing “waah,” Shi Xue’er finally burst into full sobs, trembling as she held out her hand for Zhu Qisen to slide the ring on.

Though Zhu Wenshu had already known the whole plan the day before, seeing it play out in front of her, she still reached up to wipe at the corner of her eye.

—

On the way home.

Zhu Wenshu kept glancing over at Ling Chen from time to time, and whenever their eyes met, she’d hastily look away again.

Ever since Ling Chen had answered Shi Xue’er’s outburst, that one line had been circling around and around in Zhu Wenshu’s head.

We don’t mind.

It was as if he’d already decided that of course they would get married someday.

But he had never actually said so himself.

Zhu Wenshu wasn’t the type to bottle things up, and seeing Ling Chen looking thoughtful, she finally couldn’t hold it in and asked.

“You’re not… planning to propose on my birthday too, are you?”

Ling Chen glanced over at her, then said calmly, “No.”

Zhu Wenshu: “?”

“……”

“Oh.”

She gave a dry laugh. “Just asking, no reason.”

“A birthday should be spent properly celebrating a birthday.” Ling Chen paused, then added, “I want your life to have one more day worth remembering.”

Good thing Zhu Wenshu wasn’t the one driving today.

Her heart rate was perfectly normal, and yet she couldn’t focus on anything at all.

“Besides.”

At the red light, Ling Chen turned to look at her.

“I don’t want to wait for that day.”

Streetlights streamed through the car window, flickering across both their faces.

Zhu Wenshu’s heartbeat shifted rhythm right then and there.

She genuinely regretted asking that question.

From now on, every single day, she’d probably be caught somewhere between anxious and hopeful.

“Green light.”

Zhu Wenshu suddenly reminded him. “Let’s just head home first.”

Ling Chen didn’t say anything else, just kept driving.

In the quiet atmosphere, Zhu Wenshu finally turned to face him directly.

Her gaze traveled slowly over the side of his face, finally settling on his chest.

“Why aren’t you wearing the pocket watch?”

Ling Chen, who had been perfectly composed this whole time, had his eyes flicker slightly, and only after a while did he answer, “I took it in to get fixed a while back.”

“Mm.”

Zhu Wenshu lowered her head, pressing her lips together as she smiled.

After that, the two of them fell quiet over the topic, a different kind of feeling faintly hanging in the car.

Both of them seemed to sense that their relationship was about to change, even though neither had said a word about it.

Once home, Ling Chen took off his coat and said he was going to shower.

Zhu Wenshu still hadn’t fully come out of the bashfulness stirred up by the marriage talk, and just nodded, then went and sat on the balcony.

Over this stretch of time, she’d planted quite a few flowers, some blooming and then withering, with only two pots of roses and balloon flowers still holding strong.

Zhu Wenshu sat in the rocking chair, looking out at the countless lit windows across the city, and all sorts of images floated through her mind.

Actually, she thought, it probably wouldn’t make much difference whether they got married or not.

The life they had now hardly needed a piece of paper to prove anything.

After enjoying the evening breeze for a while, Zhu Wenshu suddenly received a message from Shi Xue’er.

[Shi Xue’er]: Teacher Zhu, I almost forgot today, I have a friend who has something she wants to say to Ling Chen, could I trouble you to pass it along.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Sure, go ahead.

Actually, after all this time, and with how many times they’d been photographed, Zhu Wenshu knew her identity was long past being any kind of secret—it just had never been formally brought out into the open.

But as long as it didn’t disrupt her daily life, Zhu Wenshu didn’t mind.

[Shi Xue’er]: I’ll just forward it directly then, it’s a long message.

[Shi Xue’er]:

Classmate Little Silkworm, I’m sorry to bother you—I’m a fan of Ling Chen’s. Today is a special day for me, and I have a lot I want to say to Ling Chen. I know he probably won’t see my direct message, so I can only trouble you to pass it along.

I was born with a disability—I’ve never been able to speak since birth. Growing up wasn’t easy for me, and I sank into a deep bog of despair at one point.

Because I couldn’t speak, I was deeply insecure, and I had no friends. Along the way I faced a lot of discrimination, and there was a stretch where my mental state was quite worrying.

It wasn’t until Ling Chen appeared that I became one of the people others call a “fan.”

I’m so grateful that because of Ling Chen, I got to know so many kindred spirits. They never needed me to speak out loud—as long as I could type, that was enough.

We chat online often, meet up in person too. Because of Ling Chen, I discovered that I really could fit in among people after all.

Ling Chen may never know it, but at his concerts, there are people raising their hands to wave a lightstick—and there are others who are actually calling out for help.

Thank you for Ling Chen’s existence—it’s what saved me.

I used to be a factory assembly-line worker, thinking that was all my life would ever amount to. And yet good fortune quietly found me anyway.

Because I loved Ling Chen, I taught myself Photoshop and designed a lot of posters for him. He may never have seen any of them, but because of it, I landed a job at a design company.

Today, I have my own advertising shop.

It’s tiny—I’m the only employee.

Ling Chen probably has no idea his mere existence could save someone he’s never even met.

I’m already living the life I want, and I hope, going forward, that Ling Chen finds happiness too.

Even though I can’t speak, I can sense that these past years haven’t been easy for him. I really want him to know that even if there are hard times ahead, he’ll always have this many people behind him, loving him and supporting him—please, don’t ever give up.

He once said the sun never brings up the moon, and midsummer never brings snow. And yet he still made it to his own miracle—and I made it to mine too.

Daylight should always be bright sun overhead, and midsummer should always be dazzling heat too. Wishing you and Ling Chen eternal happiness, forever living in the sunlight—

Ling Chen came out of the shower to find Zhu Wenshu still sitting on the balcony, head lowered, looking at her phone, lost in thought.

He stood in the living room for a moment, holding something in his hand, then walked toward her step by step.

“You—”

“You—”

Both of them spoke at once.

Ling Chen laughed and said, “Teacher Zhu first.”

“It’s nothing major.”

Zhu Wenshu’s voice was a little hoarse. “There’s a fan of yours who wrote you a letter, Teacher Xue’er forwarded it to me. Let me read it to you.”

“Mm.”

Ling Chen naturally crouched down in front of her.

Zhu Wenshu held her phone, automatically switching the pronouns, reading it out loud sentence by sentence.

Ling Chen didn’t say a word the whole time, only kept his head lowered.

But Zhu Wenshu could see, beneath his lowered lashes, that his eyes were stirred with emotion.

As she reached the last two paragraphs, Zhu Wenshu sniffled.

“You said the sun never brings up the moon, and midsummer never brings snow. And yet you still made it to—”

Just as she was about to say the word “waited,” Zhu Wenshu suddenly stopped short.

She realized she’d heard Ling Chen say that word so often.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

“No rush, take your time eating, I’ll wait for you to finish.”

“I’m happy to wait for you.”

“I’ll wait until you fall asleep before I sleep.”

“I’ll come wait for you after class tomorrow.”

He always seemed to be waiting.

Only tonight had he said he didn’t want to wait for that day.

In this moment, something surged in Zhu Wenshu’s chest that she’d never felt before.

She didn’t want to make Ling Chen wait any longer.

“Ling Chen.” Zhu Wenshu suddenly looked up at him. “Let’s get married.”

It took several seconds before Ling Chen lifted his head, staring at Zhu Wenshu in shock, unable to tell if this sentence had come from the fan letter or had simply burst out of her on its own.

Zhu Wenshu turned and picked a rose from the flowerpot beside her.

“It’s very sudden, I haven’t prepared anything at all.” She held it out to him. “Let’s get married.”

Ling Chen just stayed there, head tilted up, looking at her, his eyes full of disbelief.

In the long silence that followed, Zhu Wenshu watched his eyes turn red at the rims.

“Say something.”

Zhu Wenshu bent down and hugged him. “I just proposed to you—are you going to say yes or not?”

Ling Chen still didn’t speak, only his shoulders trembling faintly.

After a long moment, Zhu Wenshu felt her hand being pried open, and that familiar pocket watch came to rest quietly in her palm.

“This is……”

Ling Chen opened his mouth several times, but no sound would come out for a long while.

Zhu Wenshu waited patiently, and finally heard him say, “It stopped working a while back. I had someone replace the spring. It’ll keep turning forever now.”

Ling Chen looked up, meeting Zhu Wenshu’s eyes, and said nothing more.

“Trust me. It’ll turn forever.”

“Mm.”

Zhu Wenshu lowered her head, hiding the mist in her eyes.

“Put it on me.”

The moment the pocket watch settled around her neck, Zhu Wenshu heard the clear sound of Ling Chen’s heartbeat.

The sun will never bring up the moon, and midsummer will never bring down snow—just as the pocket watch’s spring will never stop turning.

Her heartbeat, and his, would never come apart either.

(—End of Main Story—)