Why are you running? I’m not going to eat you.

“Because the person I love most enjoys spring.”

In Sheng Sui’s memory, Zhou Shiyu had never used such emotionally intense personal expressions.

From the day they met, the man had always maintained an image of gentleness combined with extreme rationality.

Now he was clearly and directly stating that his reason for liking spring was because of the person he loved, thus loving what she loved.

—So the person you love, would that be me?

The moment those words fell, this question immediately jumped into her mind, making even Sheng Sui want to mock herself.

How could she, at the mature and steady age of nearly thirty, still be like an eighteen or nineteen-year-old naive girl, her mind filled with romantic fantasies every day?

In the end, she only gave a dry acknowledgment, focusing on calming the increasingly restless little rabbit in her chest.

She also suppressed that hint of hidden anticipation for a definitive answer to her question.

Finally, the two took the cable car to reach the summit, moving with the flowing crowd to the mountaintop cliff, seeing people of all sizes queuing to take photos with the stone monument at the cliff’s edge.

Tuotuo Peak wasn’t a single mountain but was composed of three continuous mountain ranges connected at the base by rock caves, with narrow gaps between them forming a “thread of sky” landscape.

Apart from the isolated peak they were currently on, the terrain of the remaining two was too difficult for cable car construction, and the steep terrain was unsuitable for ordinary tourists to climb, so they were sealed off, leaving only this relatively gentle slope open.

Sheng Sui had mild acrophobia. Watching others walk along the cliff from afar made her heart race, yet her eyes couldn’t help wanting to look at the high distant scenery.

Noticing her hesitant movements, Zhou Shiyu slowed his pace, holding her hand and turning back to ask: “Do you still want to go forward?”

“…Let’s go just a little bit further.” Sheng Sui was embarrassed to admit her conflicted feelings of being eager to try yet worried about falling.

“If you want to go, then let’s go,” seeing people continuously walking briskly behind them, Zhou Shiyu tightened his palm grip, pulling the woman closer to his embrace, saying warmly:

“I’m holding you, nothing will happen.”

In the end, fear conquered curiosity. Sheng Sui gave up on taking photos with the stone monument at the cliff edge, wandering around the periphery of the crowd, her phone photos all mixing scenery with people.

Seeing her earnest efforts standing on tiptoe, Zhou Shiyu’s eyes filled with tenderness, standing behind Sheng Sui to block the passing crowd, reaching out for her phone: “What do you want to photograph?”

“I want to photograph the green forest and sky, and it would be great if I could include those clouds too.”

Sheng Sui traced the composition on the screen with her finger. Seeing Zhou Shiyu unhesitatingly about to walk toward the cliff, she tugged at his sleeve: “You’re not afraid of heights, are you? Or you could take it from here too—you’re tall anyway.”

“The worst that could happen is slipping and falling,” Zhou Shiyu brought Sheng Sui to a tree with fewer people, looking down to adjust the brightness,

“This mountain peak isn’t very steep. If you fall, you’d most likely hit the trees, making it very difficult to die.”

Seeing her shocked reaction from his peripheral vision, he couldn’t help but smile: “Thinking of it this way, isn’t it not so scary anymore?”

Sheng Sui: “…”

Thank you for your comfort.

It’s completely useless.

Standing by the old tree roots watching Zhou Shiyu stride toward the cliff with his long legs, the closer to the stone monument at the cliff edge, the fewer people there were. When the man was almost walking along the rope barrier to take photos, there was hardly anyone around him.

At noon, the mountain top sunlight was intense, falling on the man’s tall, lean silhouette like it was gilded with a thin layer of gold, brilliant and dazzling.

Sheng Sui watched him go with fear and trepidation the whole way.

“…No need to worry, this guy used to do extreme sports like it was daily routine.”

A lazy male voice sounded behind her. Liang Xubai appeared from nowhere, carrying his camera and greeting with a smile: “This person has done skydiving and bungee jumping. This height is like playing house to him. Teacher Sheng, don’t worry.”

“By the way,” the man snapped his fingers, “I took some photos of you two, want to see?”

He handed his camera to Sheng Sui: “Press the circle button for the next photo, look freely.”

“Thank you.”

Mixed among numerous landscape photos, the remaining candid shots of the two were mostly taken on the road and before and after riding the cable car. Sheng Sui hadn’t realized Liang Xubai had been around them the whole time. While admiringly flipping through the photos, she suddenly discovered something.

In the lens, unlike her looking around everywhere, Zhou Shiyu was always looking down at her, his expression showing focused tenderness even without seeing his eyes clearly.

Every photo was like this, without exception.

As if in the man’s world, only she remained.

“It seems Teacher Sheng has also noticed.”

Liang Xubai lazily leaned against the tree trunk like he had no bones, thoughtfully: “I’ve seen hundreds and thousands of patients, including elite figures from all walks of life. These people’s eye expressions and body language constantly convey information outward—like, dislike, anger, or more complex emotions.”

“To be honest, Zhou Shiyu is the most difficult person I’ve ever encountered to figure out.”

“As long as he wants to, whether angry, furious, or dejected, his outward expression is always a smile,” Liang Xubai put his hands in his pockets, tilting his chin toward the camera, “but as you saw in the photos, this guy is smiling like he’s picking up money everywhere.”

Sheng Sui was amused by the man’s metaphor, her eyebrows curving: “I didn’t expect Mr. Liang would tell me these things.”

Liang Xubai’s good intentions were obvious; she just couldn’t figure out the significance of him suddenly analyzing Zhou Shiyu’s personality for her.

“Indeed, psychologists are the most likely to be disliked,” Liang Xubai shrugged upon hearing this, seeing through her thoughts at a glance, “these days even matchmaking couples requires being on guard against suspicion. The world is declining.”

“I didn’t mean that—”

“It’s fine if you did.”

Liang Xubai saw someone finishing photographing and walking back, interrupting Sheng Sui’s protest as he stood up, dropping his final line as he took back his camera.

No longer his usual casual manner, the man’s tone was rarely serious: “Teacher Sheng can think again more carefully, based on your understanding of Zhou Shiyu’s personality.”

“Does he seem like someone who would choose marriage without hesitation just because it’s suitable?”

“What are you talking about?”

Zhou Shiyu’s voice from the distance suddenly interrupted their conversation.

The man walked back to Sheng Sui’s side, handing over the phone: “I took several shots of the angles and lighting you mentioned.”

Then he looked up at Liang Xubai, the curve of his lips unchanged, but his aura inexplicably made people unable to smile.

“Your wife said my photos look good,” facing someone’s protective stance, Liang Xubai couldn’t help clicking his tongue, impatiently reaching out to Zhou Shiyu, “Qiu Si said photographing you two together requires charging a fee. Remember to have Secretary Chen transfer money to me later.”

The man shouldered his camera again, humming a melodious tune as he turned and left.

“Are the photos okay?”

“Mm?” Sheng Sui watched Liang Xubai’s disappearing figure, the man’s final words still in her ears. Hearing Zhou Shiyu ask her, she quickly looked up, “They look pretty good.”

Zhou Shiyu silently looked at her for a few seconds, raising his hand to ruffle her hair, his tone somewhat helpless: “You haven’t looked yet.”

“…”

Caught red-handed for spacing out, Sheng Sui guiltily took the initiative to hold the man’s right hand, clearing her throat and starting to make excuses: “I have confidence in your skills.”

Leaving the stone monument photo spot, this time the three went together to Tuotuo Peak’s famous mountain temple, established in the distant Ming Dynasty. The mountain god statue enshrined in the temple had protected the surrounding residents for generations.

Over time, tourists from all over the country would come here specifically to make wishes, seeking the mountain god’s protection.

Like most people, Sheng Sui wasn’t a believer, but when encountering temples, she would go to worship devoutly.

She was the first to offer incense and pray. Seeing that Zhou Shiyu and Liang Xubai still needed some time, she greeted them and went alone to the temple’s side courtyard to see the century-old tree by the wall, said to be the mountain god’s incarnation.

The old tree, several people thick, had branches growing in all directions, its new-sprouting branches hung full of prayer ribbons—from good health to career success to wealth to marriage happiness, everything was there.

Prayer red ribbons were neatly placed on a long table beside the tree, with dedicated monks responsible for distribution, patiently instructing tourists to write their names before hanging them on the old tree.

“Are you seeking marriage happiness?”

Standing at the table making her choice, a kind monk walked over with a smile: “I see you’ve been staring at this prayer ribbon for a long time. You must feel very connected to it.”

Sheng Sui actually most wanted to pray for good health, but with the old monk saying this, refusing seemed inauspicious. She softly probed: “May I ask, besides seeking marriage, can I also pray for good health?”

“Of course,” the monk handed her two prayer ribbons and a thick brush, “please write your name in the blank space.”

“Okay, thank you.”

After thanking him with a smile, Sheng Sui walked to the far end of the long table, bending down to first write her name on the red ribbon for marriage.

Before putting brush to the prayer ribbon for good health, she held the brush handle and paused for two seconds. For some reason, her mind flashed to the scene from early this morning when Zhou Shiyu had taken several hot showers just to hold her.

In the end, she still wrote Zhou Shiyu’s name.

After all, she lived quite well even without perfect health—there should be at least one healthy person in a family.

She had never had grand ambitions since childhood; career and wealth sufficient for living were enough.

Since that was the case, she would just pray for her future married life to be happy.

Amused by her own mental activities, Sheng Sui handed the completed prayer ribbons to the monk, thanked him with palms together, then went to wait nearby, just in time to see Zhou Shiyu and Liang Xubai coming out from behind the temple one after another.

The two men, with their height advantage, stood out in the crowd. After exchanging a few words, they walked together toward the long table, each taking a prayer red ribbon.

Liang Xubai held his brush and with a grand flourish wrote the two characters “Yaoqiu,” picking up the ribbon to admiringly appreciate his flowing calligraphy.

From his peripheral vision, he saw Zhou Shiyu finish writing and stand up, his prayer ribbon for peace and health clearly bearing the name “Sheng Sui” in strong, powerful handwriting.

“Oh, we two are quite telepathic,” Liang Xubai curved his lips in a casual smile, teasing, “I didn’t expect you to believe in fatalism.”

“…”

Zhou Shiyu calmly handed the red ribbon to the old monk opposite, bowing with palms together, his expression devout and solemn.

He sometimes felt human nature was contradictory.

By rights, he should be someone who didn’t believe in fate. Otherwise, during those years of having bipolar disorder with repeated episodes, he should have accepted destiny and ended his life, should have listened to heaven’s command after repeated failures and never appear before Sheng Sui again.

During those times, he had indeed never surrendered to fate, firmly believing that human effort could triumph over destiny, that with enough failures, he would eventually find the right method.

Yet at certain moments, Zhou Shiyu hoped divine beings truly existed in this world.

If deities truly existed, could they bless his girl to no longer suffer from illness, could they let her remain healthy and happy forever?

Whenever such thoughts arose, he would become the most devout and faithful believer in the world.

After touring the temple and praying, the three wandered around the mountain peak for a while. Seeing the afternoon sun becoming increasingly glaring, they took the cable car down the mountain and returned to the hotel by car.

Even on holidays, Zhou Shiyu couldn’t rest. Today when going out, he had deliberately turned off his work phone. After returning to the hotel and turning it on, various messages and missed calls simultaneously appeared on the screen.

In the kitchen, Zhou Shiyu looked down at work emails while watching Sheng Sui move a bag of ingredients delivered by takeout onto the counter, getting up to go over: “Need help?”

“No need, no need,” Sheng Sui quickly stopped him, urging him to handle work first, “Didn’t you say you have a video conference in five minutes? Why are you still sitting here?”

She turned around and pushed Zhou Shiyu toward the bedroom: “After your meeting, get some sleep. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Be careful then.”

Zhou Shiyu had no choice with her, carrying his laptop and being half-pushed toward the hotel bedroom door. Not long after, he could hear conversation sounds faintly coming through.

Finally alone in the kitchen, Sheng Sui energetically tied her loose hair into a high ponytail, rolled up her sleeves, and took out mangoes, milk, white sugar, and other ingredients from the bag one by one.

She had promised in a text message last time. Yesterday when she came, she had planned to make milk pudding for Zhou Shiyu, but she had gone straight to sleep until dawn.

Taking out a small pot, she poured in milk, white gelatin powder, and a little sugar substitute, finally adding washed and diced mango pieces, stirring evenly and placing everything in molds to refrigerate.

Feeling that one milk pudding couldn’t showcase her rapidly improving culinary skills, Sheng Sui also made strawberry, cantaloupe, and matcha flavors. In the slightly cool early spring season, she worked up quite a sweat.

Anyone not knowing better would think that after more than an hour of effort, she was preparing some complex and exquisite dessert.

No more sounds came from the bedroom. Afraid of disturbing Zhou Shiyu’s work, Sheng Sui didn’t go in, leaning against the counter and picking up her phone to look at the dozen photos Liang Xubai had sent.

All were photos of her and Zhou Shiyu together.

—”Based on your understanding of Zhou Shiyu’s personality, does he seem like someone who would choose marriage without hesitation just because it’s suitable?”

Looking at this set of photos again, her mindset was vastly different from initially. Even Sheng Sui, who had once deeply believed in Zhou Shiyu’s “marriage because it’s suitable” theory, felt momentarily shaken when recalling Liang Xubai’s words and the man’s casual love language in the cable car.

So could she understand this to mean that Zhou Shiyu’s marriage to her wasn’t just based on suitability, but that he had feelings for her beforehand?

“…”

The thought felt absurd the moment it arose, yet her upturned lips couldn’t be suppressed.

Sheng Sui placed her left fist over her lips, using her right hand to hold the phone and long-press the screen, carefully saving each photo, then opening her social media.

She quickly selected eight landscape photos Zhou Shiyu had taken from her album, pursed her lips, then picked out a photo showing only her and Zhou Shiyu’s profiles, placing it last in the set as if trying to hide something.

Before clicking send, Sheng Sui’s fingertip hesitated for a few seconds over the green send button, then moved the photo of them together to the center of the nine images, sending it directly without further delay.

She rarely looked at friends’ updates normally. What she had just posted was her first social media post.

The comment section responded enthusiastically. Besides Xiao Ming and close colleagues, university classmates she hadn’t contacted in years all commented.

【Xiao Ming: Look at you, babe, just a few days married and already so skilled at showing off your love?】

【Qi Yue: Wow, this is Teacher Sheng Sui’s husband, right? Even from the profile he looks so handsome!】

【Liang Xubai: @Zhou Shiyu See, I told you your wife likes it, quickly tell your secretary to transfer money】

Five minutes later, refreshing showed over thirty comments. Looking at the dense blessings, Sheng Sui suddenly began to understand why newlyweds were willing to spend time and effort holding weddings to receive everyone’s blessings.

She had originally thought marriage was just a matter between two people living together, never imagining that being blessed by others could feel so happy.

Or perhaps because the person she married was Zhou Shiyu, she was willing to share, willing to reply to each beautiful wish with thanks when receiving them.

Her chest was suddenly filled with inexplicable emotions, the desire to confide this moment’s joy having nowhere to rest.

Sheng Sui put down her phone and walked toward the bedroom, gently pushing the door open to ask when Zhou Shiyu would finish work, only to see the man at the desk leaning back in his chair with closed eyes, breathing deeply.

Probably because she had repeatedly instructed Zhou Shiyu not to come out before she pushed him back to the bedroom, to wait for her “surprise.”

The man had just showered after returning to the hotel. Now with his head slightly lowered, the thin chain of his gold-rimmed glasses hanging down, his soft black hair slightly covering his eyebrows, his current defenseless sleeping appearance inexplicably revealed a different kind of docility.

Sheng Sui’s heart melted.

Taking the thin blanket from the bed, she quietly approached the man, bending down to carefully cover him with it.

The clean, bitter woody fragrance at her nose was captivating. Feeling the man’s warm breath, her gaze unconsciously fell on Zhou Shiyu’s pale, thin lips.

His lips were slightly parted, as if issuing a silent invitation.

“…”

When secretly pressing her lips to the man’s, Sheng Sui’s thunderous heartbeat made her eardrums ache.

She had taken initiative before, but perhaps because this time she harbored improper thoughts, even pressing her hand to her chest couldn’t stop the little rabbit about to jump out.

The number of times she had kissed Zhou Shiyu couldn’t be counted on her fingers, and the kiss just now had only her unilateral participation, yet it left her more flustered than any previous time.

Her earlobes instantly burned like fire. Realizing her behavior, Sheng Sui braced her hands on the desk and was about to hurriedly retreat.

But her arm was gently yet irrefusibly grasped, and the next second, she tumbled into a solid embrace.

Trapped in the embrace, Sheng Sui looked up into Zhou Shiyu’s deep black eyes full of laughter, suddenly realizing that the relationship between them had quietly changed at this moment.

“Why are you running?” the man’s deep voice carried the sexy hoarseness of just waking up, falling on Sheng Sui’s ear at this moment, each word equivalent to deliberate seduction,

“I’m not going to eat you.”