“A woman’s twenty-eighth year is quite a hurdle.”

When Madam Feng said this, Yu Hao was calmly standing in front of the bathroom mirror applying makeup. Madam Feng passed by the bathroom, arms full of freshly folded clothes, muttering incessantly, unclear whether she was speaking to Yu Hao or reflecting on herself.

“I got my first crow’s feet when I was twenty-eight… didn’t pay much attention to it, and gradually, my face started to sag. At work, whenever someone called me ‘Sister Feng,’ I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. When drinking coffee, I always wanted to throw in a few goji berries. I didn’t understand it then, but after watching a TV show, I realized it was a woman’s early-aging syndrome.”

No one responded in the bathroom. It was quiet except for the occasional clinking sounds of bottles and containers being moved around.

Feng Yanzhi opened Yu Hao’s wardrobe to put away her clothes. As her hand reached in, she felt something hard, pulled it out for a closer look, and discovered it was the beauty device her daughter had been frantically searching for days ago. She had insisted she’d put it back in the drawer after using it. Feng Yanzhi shook her head helplessly and placed it somewhere visible.

“What’s the use of taking such good care of your face if you don’t get married? When your bodily functions start to deteriorate, how will you have children?” Madam Feng began her daily criticism of her daughter’s face.

It wasn’t that the face was particularly exquisite, but it was indeed beautiful. Each feature, when viewed separately, wasn’t that stunning, but together they created a captivating effect. Combined with her clean aura, fine eyebrows, and bright eyes, she resembled clear water, with a scholarly charm.

Feng Yanzhi had strong opinions about her daughter not having a boyfriend for years and racked her brains to arrange blind dates for her. Yu Hao had always been proud and arrogant since childhood. The men who had pursued her were too numerous to count on fingers. What kind of men hadn’t she seen? If she wanted to find someone, would she worry about not finding anyone? But she had never encountered someone who made her heart flutter. Feng Yanzhi scolded her, saying her heart was made of stone and couldn’t be warmed.

But Yu Hao didn’t think so. She had experienced feelings for someone before.

Yu Hao ignored her mother as she calmly outlined her eyebrows in the mirror. Outside, Madam Feng had started sweeping the floor.

Her talking didn’t stop: “Twenty-year-old men like twenty-year-old girls, thirty-year-old men also want to find someone in their twenties, and forty-year-old men might not say it openly, but their eyes go straight when they see twenty-year-old girls. Take Professor Han from your institute, he’s already fifty, but he still gets that lustful look when he sees twenty-year-olds.”

Yu Hao finally couldn’t stand it anymore and poked half her body out of the bathroom, “Stop slandering Professor Han! He’s just friendly to everyone and treats everyone the same. Plus, Professor Han has been good to me. Be careful Old Yu doesn’t hear you and gets angry!”

Feng Yanzhi realized her words were inappropriate and changed the subject: “Anyway, that’s how it is. Think about it, when you were in college, you were so popular, that there were even boys who came to the house to pursue you. Now? Nobody’s interested, right, old spinster?”

Yu Hao retorted: “If I’m an old spinster, then what are you? A rotten vegetable root?”

Feng Yanzhi didn’t take offense and just smiled. She had known since her daughter was young that she was as stubborn as an 800-year-old maple stump, unyielding with her own strong opinions. If she had made up her mind not to get married, no one could do anything about it. The fact that she was now cursing meant she was anxious, and her mother had hit a sore spot.

Feng Yanzhi gathered all the garbage, preparing to go out and buy groceries. “Give me the car keys. Your dad will take you to work later. I need to visit the old lady today.”

“They’re in my bag,” Yu Hao said, applying lipstick in front of the mirror, mouth open, utterly lacking in decorum. “The old lady has been summoning you quite frequently lately, hasn’t she?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, a flash of realization struck her mind, like waking from a dream. In the mirror, her eyes widened, her jet-black pupils darting—

Oh no!

Not even caring that her lipstick was only half applied, she rushed out of the bathroom like lightning.

Too late. Madam Feng was leisurely tapping a red invitation card in her palm, her tone more excited than discovering a new continent:

“Oh my! Song Xiaotao is getting married? Isn’t she Professor Han’s graduate student? The one who likes to gossip about you behind your back? She’s only twenty-five this year, still studying, right?”

Yu Hao had hidden the invitation because she was tired of being questioned. It was only February, and this was already the third invitation. Everyone was rushing to get married this year. She resigned herself, leaning against the wall, and letting out a faint sigh. She capped her lipstick and spoke with vivid detail:

“Yes, yes, that’s Song Xiaotao. Her fiancé is even a returnee from abroad, in architecture, with two houses. After getting married, they sold one and bought a marital home near our institute, plus took out a loan for a car. He said it’s for her to drive to work every day, but that house is just a five-minute walk to our institute while driving might take thirty minutes with traffic. Plus, there’s no parking at the institute, so she’d have to fight for a spot early every morning. Don’t you think her husband is a bit thoughtless?”

“I think you’re the thoughtless one. Stop trying to be clever with me.” Feng Yanzhi rolled her eyes to the heavens.

Yu Hao returned to the mirror. She didn’t understand why Song Xiaotao always competed with her. When Yu Hao bought clothes, Song Xiaotao would buy the same ones a few days later, then coyly claim her relatives had brought them from abroad long ago, implying that Yu Hao was copying her.

“This young lady is something,” Feng Yanzhi, a veteran of many battles, knew all too well the petty competitions between young women and deliberately gloated, “She’s just eager to one-up you, right? Now she’s finally triumphant—good conditions for her husband, revolutionary success. I think you, the old wave, are about to be slapped dead on the beach by her—”

Yu Hao didn’t want to hear more and slammed the bathroom door with a loud “bang.”

The noise startled Old Yu, whose heart skipped a beat. He rushed out of the kitchen with a spatula, looking confusedly at his wife standing by the door. “What happened? What happened!”

Feng Yanzhi, lowering her head to change shoes, looked at Yu Guoyang with good humor: “Don’t just stand there. Hasn’t Xiao Shen returned to the country? I told you to invite him over for dinner at our place. Have you told him yet?”

Old Yu replied with an “Ah,” touched his nose, and pretended to be calm: “Yes, I did.”

“If you’re not going to touch your nose when you lie, how do you expect people not to know you’re lying?” Feng Yanzhi made a gesture as if to hit him. “I can tell you haven’t said anything. I see you don’t take me seriously anymore. We might as well get a divorce.”

Yu Guoyang became anxious, saying: “What are you talking about? We’re old now and you’re still talking about divorce! Xiao Shen just returned to the country, the institute is full of things to do, with seminars every day. He hasn’t even adjusted to the time difference. How could I rush to promote our daughter to him? Besides, Xiao Shen and Hao Hao have known each other for so many years, and you know about their past!”

“So what if I know! They’re both grown up now, and Xiao Shen has such good conditions. If you don’t act quickly, there will be plenty of people wanting to matchmake!”

“Alright, alright, I understand. When Xiao Shen has time, I’ll invite him over for dinner.” Yu Guoyang knew his wife’s temperament, and saying more would be useless. He softened his tone and, after thinking for a moment, ventured to say, “Why are you in such a hurry? Xiao Shen is talented, but our Hao Hao isn’t bad either. Give her a bit more time.”

With another “bang,” it was Feng Yanzhi’s turn to slam the door as she left.

…

It was early spring, with February’s flowery dawn growing gently. The peach trees in front of the research institute were lush with branches and leaves, already sprouting tiny buds like grains of rice, exuding a subtle fragrance.

Yu Hao had a dinner engagement that evening, but she was reluctant to attend because it was organized by Song Xiaotao—her husband’s final golden bachelor night. Song Xiaotao was quite considerate in arranging this gathering, saying that her husband had several single childhood friends, and she wanted to introduce them to the single sisters at the institute.

Song Xiaotao’s husband was called Lin Chang, with “Chang” pronounced like the factory sound. This name was uncommon, and whenever Song Xiaotao introduced him, she would roll her tongue to say it once, fearing others wouldn’t hear it. Lin Chang was indeed a good match—handsome and with a stable job, quite suitable for Song Xiaotao. At work, Song Xiaotao mentioned her husband’s childhood friends as often as she mentioned her husband, praising each one as being perfect. The moment the young women heard they were his childhood friends, they immediately perked up, linking arms with Song Xiaotao and calling her more intimately than real sisters. “Sister Xiaotao, are your husband’s childhood friends really all single?” After years in the workforce, their academic progress might not have advanced much, but their skill in following trends certainly had.

Zhao Dailin shared Yu Hao’s disdain for Song Xiaotao’s smug demeanor, so they both made excuses and declined, going to a restaurant to feast together instead.

The wedding was on Saturday.

Zhao Dailin and Yu Hao arrived just on time. The wedding hall was packed with distinguished guests, a din of voices filling the air. Everyone was drinking with flushed faces, creating a lively atmosphere. The two circled halfway around before finding Professor Han and the others. They saw several young women chatting enthusiastically, their laughter ringing like silver bells, one wave after another.

Zhao Dailin and Yu Hao pulled out chairs and sat down. “What are you all talking about?”

Upon seeing the two senior sisters arrive, a young woman smiled and said, “Sister Yu Hao, Sister Dailin, it’s such a pity you two didn’t come that day.”

The two exchanged glances. Yu Hao lowered her head and smiled, while Zhao Dailin leaned back in her chair, feigning surprise: “What, did Lin Chang give you all the money?”

The young woman waved her hand: “To be honest, Lin Chang’s childhood friends are exactly as Xiaotao described—each one more handsome than Lin Chang. No wonder Lin Chang got married early.”

Zhao Dailin looked at the speaker with a mixture of belief and doubt. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Before Yu Hao could react, two groomsmen approached the adjacent table, seemingly stopped by familiar elders.

They were just a few meters away, with their backs turned.

The young woman didn’t dare speak loudly, so she whispered to Zhao Dailin.

The one wearing glasses was named Jiang Yue, working at the Procuratorate. Both his parents were from the High-Level Translation Institute. He had only had one girlfriend and broke up because her personality was extremely bizarre…

Zhao Dailin gave her a sidelong glance.

Do you even know his ex-girlfriend had a bizarre personality?

He said so himself.

The one holding the wine bottle was named Zhou Di, the youngest among them, only twenty-five, a graduate of Beijing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics, and a member of the national aeromodelling team. Fearing Zhao Dailin wouldn’t understand what aeromodelling was, she innocently asked, “Sister Dailin, do you know what aeromodelling is?”

Zhao Dailin silenced her with a roll of her eyes.

The young woman turned back with a smile, then suddenly froze, her expression instantly becoming ecstatic, her round face flushing with excitement. A woman’s face is like June weather—changeable. Zhao Dailin suspiciously followed her gaze. Another person seemed to be approaching, placing his hand on Zhou Di’s shoulder, smiling as he leaned down to chat with a middle-aged man seated in a chair.

The young woman beside them rubbed her hands together excitedly and said, here comes the highlight, the highlight—

That one, the one standing between the two.

The three were about the same height, with the one in the middle slightly taller. In the flickering lights of the wedding hall, he stood out in the bustling crowd, appearing especially clean and neat. His folded suit jacket was hooked in his hand, wearing only a white shirt without a tie. The collar was loosely unbuttoned, revealing a clear collarbone line. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing a small section of firm, slender forearm, with faintly protruding blue veins on his fair hand’s back, exuding a hard, clean masculinity.

A bridesmaid came over and shyly whispered in his ear that the ceremony was about to start, urging him to put on his suit.

The man raised his sword-like eyebrows slightly, nodded, and while absently buttoning up his shirt, listened to the middle-aged man in the chair eloquently recounting his military days:

“My skill at hiding money was honed back when I was in the recruit company during my border support days. When we first joined the company, the old squad leader didn’t allow smoking, so we hid cigarettes everywhere. I kept a pack on the fan axis for two days, and it was still discovered by the old squad leader. There was a comrade from Shandong who was good at hiding things. Every time the rest of us could only satisfy our cravings by wrapping dried cow dung in paper, he always had cigarettes. We asked him where he hid them, and guess where he pulled them out from? — His crotch! That smell, I remember it for life.”

Everyone around laughed. The man finished buttoning his shirt and put on his suit, slightly arching his neck to fold out the shirt collar. With a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, he said in a half-joking tone, “No wonder the cigarettes you gave me and Jiang Yue after you were discharged all had a gamey smell…”

Everyone burst into laughter.

“Nonsense, that was the gamey smell of Tibetan sheep!” the middle-aged man retorted.

“Who are you trying to fool? Tibetan sheep don’t have a gamey smell.” He smiled as he spoke, then hooked the back of Zhou Di’s head with his hand. “Let’s go.”

The middle-aged man, flushed and bloated from drinking, spoke in a rough voice, laughing as he told him to get lost, saying he wasn’t used to seeing him in anything but a military uniform, and that he looked effeminate in the suit. The man smiled lazily. The middle-aged man then pointed at him and introduced him to the others: “This kid takes after his father, very wild. I have to say, he’s accomplished something. Just returned from studying at the Venezuela School of Combat Operations—a place his father and I could only dream of going to.”

…

Zhao Dailin finally elbowed the person next to her and asked, “What’s this guy’s name?”

The young woman said three words, and as Zhao Dailin was thinking why the name sounded somewhat familiar, a man carrying a black briefcase standing next to Yu Hao’s chair suddenly called out enthusiastically—

“Lu Huaizheng—!”

Damn, isn’t this Yu Hao’s first love?!!!