During the Mid-Autumn Festival mini-holiday, Zhou Mi went back home.

Since moving out, she hadn’t returned home for half a year. During this time, Tang Peili had wanted to visit her small apartment several times, but Zhou Mi had politely declined.

Hearing that her daughter was coming back, Tang Peili prepared a table full of dishes and had been repeatedly going to the window to look out since evening, also messaging and calling Zhou Mi multiple times, asking exactly when she would be home.

A little after six in the evening, the lock on the Tang family’s door was finally turned.

Tang Peili, who had been waiting in the living room, hurriedly ran to welcome her, while Zhou Mi’s father also followed behind at a leisurely pace.

Upon seeing Zhou Mi, Tang Peili was slightly stunned. She felt her daughter was a bit different, yet also seemed to have returned to her former self.

When she heard Zhou Mi call her “Mom,” that familiar sound carved into her ears, the middle-aged woman’s eyes immediately reddened.

Yet her words showed no softening as she took advantage of Zhou Mi changing her shoes to pat her back with a mixture of anger and laughter: “You rebellious child, so you still remember to come back.”

Zhou Mi hunched her shoulders and cried out: “What are you doing—why hit me as soon as I get back?”

Zhou Xing helplessly restrained his wife.

After putting on slippers, Zhou Mi straightened up, looked at her parents standing side by side, and her eyes also grew warm. She took a deep breath and tightly embraced them both.

Physical expression far surpassed words—it was the best reconciliation.

“I’ve missed you both so much,” Zhou Mi sniffled.

The family embraced quietly for a while, then separated. Tang Peili took Zhou Mi’s arm and pulled her toward the kitchen: “Come, come, are you hungry? Let’s eat quickly, Mom also bought your favorite drink.”

Zhou Mi stood still and said, “Wait a moment.”

Tang Peili didn’t understand her meaning.

Zhou Mi suddenly raised her right hand, generously displaying the ring on her ring finger to her parents’ view, and spoke calmly: “Zhang Lian is still downstairs looking for a parking space.”

Tang Peili’s eyes widened to twice their original size, her expression as if she’d seen a ghost.

Just as she was about to vocally demand an explanation, Zhou Xing secretly pulled her arm, giving her a meaningful look, then smiled at his daughter: “Mimi, I’ll still go down. Parking is difficult in the complex.”

“No need,” Zhou Mi stopped him. “Just let Zhang Lian look slowly. He told me to come up first, afraid you would be anxious about me.”

Zhou Xing paused, then bent down to change his shoes: “No, I still need to go down, especially on a holiday when cars are everywhere. Zhang Lian hasn’t been here many times and doesn’t know where to park.”

“Eh? Dad…” Her father had already turned into the corridor without listening, and Zhou Mi couldn’t stop him in time. She could only exhale and turn back to her pale-faced mother.

Tang Peili showed a puzzled expression: “You…”

“Wait a moment,” Zhou Mi took out her phone. “Let me call Zhang Lian first and tell him Dad is coming down to find him.”

Tang Peili was captivated by her daughter’s demeanor, so different from the past, and she felt a lump in her throat.

She appeared composed and calm, no longer the little girl who would avoid situations or burst into tears at the slightest provocation. She stood there, naturally announcing to her parents that she had rekindled her relationship. Even though it was a massive bomb buried within the family, presented by her current self, it somehow lacked the panic of an explosion, instead feeling like an experimental pile that had long been waiting for a reaction, bringing only a very light tremor of low magnitude.

After Zhou Mi hung up the phone, Tang Peili asked: “You two are together again?”

Zhou Mi said: “Yes,” she emphasized: “Yes, Zhang Lian and I are together again.”

Tang Peili rolled her eyes, coldly mocking: “So this is the festival gift you’ve brought us?”

Zhou Mi smiled gently, proudly: “It’s still in the car. Zhang Lian will bring it up later; he wouldn’t let me carry it.”

“Ha.” Tang Peili let out an incredulous laugh, suddenly unable to say a word.

When he met Zhou Mi’s father downstairs, Zhang Lian had already parked the car and was walking toward Zhou Mi’s home. Upon seeing each other, both quickened their pace toward one another.

Zhou Xing’s emotions were somewhat complex, but he still politely tried to take the gift box from Zhang Lian’s hands: “So many things, and you didn’t let Mimi help carry.”

Zhang Lian’s attitude was neither humble nor arrogant: “It’s not heavy,” then he asked with care: “How have you been recently?”

Zhou Xing replied: “Just the same as always.” he glanced at Zhang Lian: “How has Mimi been lately? She’s barely contacted us this half year, and she doesn’t say much when asked about life or work.”

Zhang Lian said: “Very well. At the beginning of this month, she was promoted to account manager and has started leading projects on her own.”

Zhou Xing was delighted: “Really?”

Zhang Lian nodded: “Yes, Zhou Mi has strong work abilities, so her rise is naturally fast.”

His daughter’s progress made Zhou Xing clench his hands slightly, then he asked about her emotional situation: “You two… it probably hasn’t been just recently…”

Zhang Lian was candid: “Yes, Zhou Mi and I got back together in April. She was afraid you would worry, so she never mentioned it.”

“I knew it.” Zhou Xing sighed.

Zhang Lian looked at him: “How did you know?”

Zhou Xing said, “Her Moments posts. The text and tone were different from before, and her state was very similar to when she was with you back then. She thought she could hide it from us, but her mother and I had already guessed roughly, though we weren’t entirely certain it was you, but we had some mental preparation.”

—

On National Day, Zhang Lian arranged for both sets of parents to meet again. This encounter was no longer like the previous one with hidden agendas and ulterior motives.

It was open and bright, honest and public, heart for heart.

During the meal, Sun Fengzhi couldn’t stop smiling, and before leaving, she held onto Zhou Mi without letting go, constantly sighing: “I knew my relationship with this student of mine would still be long.”

Seeing his girlfriend smiling stiffly beside his mentor, Zhang Lian came forward to move his mother’s arm: “That’s enough.” Then he pulled Zhou Mi aside.

Sun Fengzhi complained: “This person is even jealous of his mother.”

Everyone was laughing, in perfect harmony.

—

On the last day of the holiday, Zhang Lian woke Zhou Mi up early, saying he wanted to take her somewhere.

After being brought to the bathroom, Zhou Mi rubbed her messy hair, half-asleep while brushing her teeth, complaining with dead-fish eyes: “Where exactly are we going that we need to get up so early?”

Zhang Lian smiled at her in the mirror: “You’ll know when we get there.”

The destination was in a residential area Zhou Mi had never been to before. Zhang Lian carried a sealed and mysterious large bag, led her upstairs, and a friendly resident opened the door, showing surprise, then a bright smile, welcoming them: “You’ve arrived. Let me take you to the cat first.”

Zhou Mi was completely confused until she saw the somewhat familiar flower-faced cat in the cage, and suddenly everything became clear.

“Ah…” she started laughing, hardly believing it, her heart racing.

It was a stray cat looking for adoption that she had liked and reposted on Weibo before the holiday. Because she liked the cat, she helped repost it several times. She never expected Zhang Lian would directly contact the person and bring her to adopt it.

“I can’t…” Zhou Mi began speaking incoherently: “This is also…”

Zhang Lian lowered his gaze: “What?”

Zhou Mi said: “It’s so sudden,” but her extreme joy couldn’t be hidden at all, revealing teeth like small pearls: “Are we going to adopt this cat?”

“Shh,” Zhang Lian leaned closer to her: “I’ve already said we’ll adopt it.”

Zhou Mi hurriedly covered her mouth tightly, whispering back: “Oh… got it, got it.”

Zhang Lian then took out a cat carrier he had prepared in advance from the bag, showing it to the rescuer: “Is this okay?”

The woman looked back: “Yes, yes, this type is best. I don’t like those space capsule types.”

Zhou Mi was already crouching in front of the cage, speaking gently to the cat inside, and wiggling her fingers through the gaps in the bars to play with her. After a while, she turned back and said, “She’s so lively.”

The rescuer replied: “Yes, her personality is very good, and she’s very clingy.”

As the rescuer held the kitten out, settled her in properly, and sent them off, she couldn’t help but praise: “I’m not just saying this, but you two are too good and perfectly matched.”

Zhou Mi and Zhang Lian smiled at each other, thanking her.

That evening, Zhou Mi updated her Moments with a new status with photos, excitedly and loudly announcing to the world that she had joined the ranks of cat owners. The text content was the name she had spontaneously given to this new family member:

“I’ll call you Mifaso.”

Followed by an emoji: a man, a cat, a woman.

Like a perfectly fitting carrier, this was her first post about her and Zhang Lian’s relationship in the true sense since they started dating.

The comments below are predictably stacked into multiple layers, with friends collectively attacking this heartless dog-killing behavior, unanimously replying: [Just asking out of ignorance, is this a new way of showing off your relationship?]

Jenny broke the formation in the middle: Hard to imagine Fabian covered in cat hair.

Zhou Mi laughed, lying back on the bed.

Jijie also liked this status and sent sincere congratulations as a good friend: Congratulations, no need to look at plums to quench your thirst anymore.

Zhou Mi replied: Thank you! Kind heart!

After coming out of the shower, the newly minted cat parents leaned against the headboard, selecting cans of food and toys together. When it came to cat snacks, Zhou Mi couldn’t help but comment: “Why are all these packages and shapes so exquisite? I even want to take a bite myself.”

Zhang Lian added quantity to the shopping cart with a calm face: “I can get a pack for you too.”

Zhou Mi angrily punched his shoulder, only to have her arm grabbed by the man, who pressed in closer.

When she was kissed until her face and ears were red and her limbs weak, Zhou Mi twisted her body, righteously declaring: “There’s someone else at home now, and she’s a minor. Can’t you have some public morality?”

Zhang Lian pulled the blanket higher, completely covering himself and Zhou Mi. The two people rolled into a soft nighttime wheat field, with the man’s pleasant scent descending again: “Is this okay now?”

Zhou Mi curved her eyes, raising her lips: “Barely acceptable.”

After some entanglement, they took another shower together. When they nestled back on the bed, Zhou Mi gazed at the cat sleeping soundly in its bed, her thoughts flying, and couldn’t help but sigh lightly.

Hearing this, Zhang Lian glanced at her and moved slightly closer: “What’s wrong?”

Zhou Mi touched her lips, her gaze somewhat distant: “I just suddenly remembered the feeling of each time I hooked up with you back then, just feeling somewhat emotional about it.”

Zhang Lian asked: “What feeling?”

“If I say it, you’ll laugh,” Zhou Mi first mocked herself with a twist of her lips, her heart becoming extremely soft: “It was a mundane, mutually beneficial thing, but I always felt then that you were like a prince, like a fairytale with a very short time limit. Silly, isn’t it?”

Zhang Lian pondered for a moment, then said seriously: “But fairytales don’t end so abruptly like that.”

Zhou Mi turned to him, her eyes dark, intense, and bright with emotion: “So it was just an excerpt from a fairytale, just that section with indescribably wonderful descriptions, text with fragrance, heat, intensity, almost dying for love. But it ended at two o’clock. Actually, every time you kissed me goodbye, I knew, but I didn’t want to wake up to say goodbye to you, and would even vaguely hope you would come back. Isn’t that super stupid?”

Zhang Lian looked at her quietly for a good while, until Zhou Mi’s ears involuntarily warmed up.

He suddenly said, “Wait a moment,” then got off the bed, retrieved something, opened it without hesitation, and spread it before Zhou Mi’s eyes.

“I prepared this last month. I had wanted it to be more ceremonial, but I believe there’s no better moment than now,” he said.

That huge, dazzling diamond ring entered Zhou Mi’s eyes. She was shocked and speechless for a long time.

She quickly covered her mouth, unable to control the hot tears welling up, but her smile had already leaked through her fingers.

Her face was flushed, looking like the world’s most beautiful and happiest princess: “What does this mean? Are we giving the fairytale a grand finale?”

Zhang Lian smiled slightly: “No, it’s the beginning of the next chapter.”

—

They were once incomplete pages, looking around bewilderedly for the missing words and sentences, discouraged and negative.

Without submission, without dependence, the romance they composed made them fold together, join, gradually become one, and recombine into exquisitely beautiful poetry.

Perhaps mundane, perhaps a fairytale, as long as that quill pen remains in their own hands, the story can always continue to unfold after their happy ending.

—End of Main Text—