“Shi-yu… ge-ge?”

The snapdragon tattooed on Sheng Sui’s wrist was indeed beautifully done.

The tender green slender stem stood upright, with creamy white buds dotted with tiny specks of pink, clustering around the thin stalk and climbing upward, swaying gracefully petal by petal in the gentle warm breeze.

The interwoven horizontal lines were delicate, each of varying lengths. Far from destroying the overall beauty, their seemingly hasty and hurried appearance added a sense of disheveled yet tragic beauty.

The simplest design, when given dynamic beauty, made even Sheng Sui look at it several more times.

She was now nestled in her lover’s warm embrace, raising her hand to examine it carefully, sighing softly: “So beautiful.”

This snapdragon born from brokenness was so stunning that Sheng Sui felt all the pain she had endured that afternoon was worth it.

Thinking this, a gentle kiss fell on her forehead. Sheng Sui looked up and met Zhou Shiyu’s pitch-black eyes directly.

Lately, the man would sometimes remove his glasses in front of her, seeing through her thoughts with just one glance: “You’re not allowed to do this again next time.”

Sheng Sui pursed her lips, her tone melancholy: “Do you also have stereotypes about tattoos and think people with tattoos aren’t good people?”

“No.”

With his watch placed on the bedside table, Zhou Shiyu finally no longer avoided the scars on his wrists. His left hand carefully supported Sheng Sui’s arm, gently swaying it like coaxing a child, as if trying to shake away her pain:

“Just don’t impulsively hurt yourself to prove something or out of momentary curiosity.”

After speaking, he hooked Sheng Sui’s nose tip with his index finger knuckle.

Sheng Sui wrinkled her nose like a little cat, her watery eyes looking defiantly at the man who had been crying in her neck just ten minutes ago and now acted like nothing happened: “It’s all because you’re just too stubborn.”

She pulled out her left hand to pinch Zhou Shiyu’s face, ruthlessly exposing him: “Every time you say it’s fine with your mouth, but you’re more insecure than anyone else.”

Only by going to such lengths could she make Zhou Shiyu stop feeling anxious about gains and losses.

Zhou Shiyu avoided her wrist wound, gripped Sheng Sui’s five fingers instead, and supported himself on the bed with his other hand, rolling over on top of her.

The man narrowed his eyes, his dark silhouette completely enveloping Sheng Sui:

“I wonder who Mrs. Zhou is talking about.”

“Whoever gets jealous of their ten-years-younger self from dreams, that’s who I’m talking about.”

Sheng Sui wasn’t afraid even when threatened, instead her smile deepened, her eyes bright as stars in the shadows:

“Zhou Shiyu, I never noticed before that you’re so petty.”

When the woman spoke, her black hair scattered around her, spread like a siren’s across the pillow beneath her, making her already warm white complexion appear like snow porcelain, increasingly enchanting and alluring.

Zhou Shiyu gazed deeply into Sheng Sui’s eyes, seeing her clear round eyes sparkling with a galaxy of stars, suddenly realizing that even though she understood everything now, the vivacious spirit that had once made his heart flutter hadn’t diminished in the slightest.

“Mrs. Zhou is right,” the man leaned down, and through the transparent protective film, his thin lips gently touched the tattoo on Sheng Sui’s wrist, readily accepting the “petty” evaluation:

“My heart is indeed small, so using it to think about you alone is just right.”

After getting a tattoo, one shouldn’t eat seafood or spicy food, so the steamed flower shrimp that Zhou Shiyu had prepared earlier had nowhere to go, and ended up all in Ping’An’s belly as he snored on the sofa.

When the man was handling the shrimp veins, shells, heads and tails, he saw Sheng Sui watching eagerly from the side, and smiled helplessly: “What else do you want to eat? There’s not enough time tonight, so I’ll just make something simple to fill you up, and I’ll make something better tomorrow.”

Sheng Sui had eaten too much meat at lunch and felt a bit greasy, so she tilted her head and thought: “How about stir-fried lotus root slices with snow peas?”

“Alright.”

Zhou Shiyu was as efficient as always. In the time it took Sheng Sui to film Ping’An eating in the living room, she could already smell the continuous aroma coming from the dining room.

Dinner was the usual sumptuous spread of two meat dishes, two vegetable dishes, and one soup: tomato and potato braised beef brisket, lemon fragrant chicken wings, scrambled eggs with Chinese toon, wood ear mushroom and meatball seaweed soup, plus the snow peas and lotus root slices that the lady of the house had specifically requested—truly a feast for all the senses.

Sheng Sui first picked up the snow peas in front of her to try. After chewing twice, she suddenly remembered something: “When we first went out to eat, we seemed to have had this dish too.”

“That restaurant’s food was really delicious, especially the crucian carp soup at the end,” recalling the flavors from that time, she still couldn’t help but praise it, “and we were very lucky. Xiao Ming told me that when they chose that same restaurant for their celebration banquet after signing with Cheng He, the owner insisted they didn’t have that dish—”

Her words paused, and with her increasingly sharp mind lately, she looked at Zhou Shiyu across from her who was smiling without speaking, suspiciously asking: “…Those dishes that day, you didn’t cook them all yourself, did you?”

The idea that a prominent venture capital mogul would secretly run off to cook for people seemed absurd even as Sheng Sui said it.

But precisely because it was so outrageous, when it came to Zhou Shiyu, sometimes the more unlikely it seemed, the more it was the truth.

“Mm, just made some simple dishes.”

Zhou Shiyu wasn’t wearing glasses now either. His left hand held a bowl as he ladled soup for Sheng Sui, and on his wrist no longer hidden by a watch strap, dozens of old scars were exposed: “Wanted to find out your preferences.”

Recalling that plate of deboned and de-thorned crucian carp, Sheng Sui thought she couldn’t agree with Zhou Shiyu’s definition of “simple,” and asked somewhat curiously: “So before that dinner, you had already calculated that I would agree to marry you, which is why you specially went to cook?”

“I hadn’t calculated that.”

This was Zhou Shiyu’s answer after thinking for several seconds. The man supported his face with his right hand, his gentle gaze falling on his beloved who was eating with her head down, and after a long while said quietly:

“I just treated every meeting as if it were our last reunion.”

That’s why he wanted to do everything perfectly, while also not wanting to startle her with excessive attentiveness.

“…”

Since their marriage, tonight was their most honest and peaceful conversation.

Such an opportunity was rare, so Sheng Sui didn’t want to let it pass. When Zhou Shiyu walked by her to wash the dishes after dinner, she reached out and grabbed the man’s sleeve: “Don’t you have anything you want to ask me?”

Zhou Shiyu naturally leaned down to embrace her slender waist, and as he sat down in the nearby chair, he easily lifted Sheng Sui and placed her securely on his lap.

Her nostrils filled with the slightly astringent cold wood fragrance, Sheng Sui looked down to see the man’s distinctly jointed left hand playing with her fingers, their equally eye-catching tattoos and scars layered on top of each other.

Time passed with the ticking sound. Sheng Sui was staring at the ground and gradually spacing out when she finally heard the person behind her ask a question.

Zhou Shiyu wasn’t accustomed to revealing himself to Sheng Sui, speaking slowly: “…After knowing all the truth, have you ever felt burdened?”

“To be honest, I was a bit at a loss at first.”

The two embraced with her back against his chest. Sheng Sui noticed from the corner of her eye that the man had stopped playing with her fingers, so she held his large palm instead and spoke frankly:

“I would always think, what virtue and ability do I have to deserve your deep affection?”

After speaking, she smiled again, not giving her lover even a second to overthink, directly adding: “But I quickly found a solution.”

Her tone inevitably carried some undisguisable pride, and the atmosphere became light and lively before it could turn oppressive.

So this time Zhou Shiyu didn’t continue staying silent either, letting out two low chuckles that made his chest vibrate: “What solution?”

“It’s actually very simple—just work hard to make myself worthy.”

As Sheng Sui spoke, she turned her head, her smiling eyes meeting Zhou Shiyu’s gaze. She raised her arms to circle the man’s neck and said softly:

“However much Zhou Shiyu loved Sheng Sui before, that’s how much Sheng Sui will love Zhou Shiyu from now on.”

Lin Xi’s phone call came at exactly seven o’clock on Tuesday morning.

“Teacher Sheng, I know my upcoming request might seem very unreasonable to you.”

Even through the receiver, the woman’s hoarse and haggard voice was immediately recognizable: “But I really have no other choice now, so I can only ask for your help.”

Zhou Shiyu was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Lin Xi bypassed him to directly approach Sheng Sui, which as expected should be because she anticipated that the man would definitely reject her request.

Facing the student’s mother, Sheng Sui couldn’t help but soften her heart, cautiously giving some leeway: “I may not be able to help much, but please tell me first.”

To prevent Zhou Shiyu from suddenly coming in, Sheng Sui specifically went to the bathroom and closed the door tightly to listen to Lin Xi express her request.

After nearly four days of consideration, Lin Xi had decided to honestly confess to the public, holding a press conference to announce that Zhou Yi was her biological son and that he also had autism.

This decision somewhat surprised Sheng Sui, though her first reaction after hearing it was that it made sense.

The surprise was because Lin Xi had hesitated for too long and missed the optimal window for crisis management. Rather than clarifying again, it would be better to just let the matter’s heat gradually die down.

As for why it made sense, the reason was simpler and more direct.

Lin Xi was a mother.

“…Regarding Zhou Yi’s autism, as his mother I’ve always felt deep guilt. Every time I hear doctors explain the causes, I check fearfully whether there was something I did wrong that brought this misfortune upon my child.”

“But even so, because of my so-called ‘face issues’ and fear of others knowing about his differences, I’ve never brought Zhou Yi to public places, never taken him to play in parks or go shopping like other mothers, and never even personally picked him up from school.”

In the spacious and quiet bathroom, Lin Xi’s tearful voice reached Sheng Sui’s ears word by word, making her feel very uncomfortable: “But this time, I don’t want him to become a nameless, statusless wild child.”

The woman took a deep breath, her voice trembling violently at the end: “I want to tell everyone that even though Zhou Yi has autism, he’s still my child.”

“…I understand.”

In a country with a population counted in hundreds of millions, personally tearing open wounds and admitting these things—the difficulty was imaginable. Sheng Sui sat on the edge of the bathtub with her head down, her fingers picking at the marble seams, and after a long while said softly:

“So, what do you need me to do?”

“You don’t need to do anything!”

Perhaps Lin Xi hadn’t expected Sheng Sui to be so agreeable either. She immediately stopped crying and explained concisely: “Teacher Sheng, do you remember yesterday’s media interview at noon? We also got a copy of that video.”

“When I hold my press conference at noon, the studio will simultaneously release prepared trending topics, with your yesterday’s video as the first one. The purpose is to prevent the public from making sensationalist comments about autistic children based on preconceptions—the video hasn’t been edited at all, and your face and voice will be specially processed. If you’re worried, I can send you the video later.”

“I know Teacher Sheng doesn’t lack money, but to compensate for the losses caused by pushing you into public opinion, I can provide one million yuan in compensation.”

“…”

Facing the woman’s earnest request, Sheng Sui wasn’t particularly surprised. She pursed her lips for a long time before slowly speaking: “You don’t need to give me money.”

She continued picking at the marble seams with her head down: “Also, if the video hasn’t been edited, I can agree to your request.”

“Really, really?! Is there nothing else I need to do?!”

Lin Xi first asked three incredulous questions in succession, then immediately thanked her repeatedly after coming to her senses: “I, I really don’t know how to thank you—to be honest, I thought you would refuse outright.”

“It’s fine. As Zhou Yi’s teacher, when he needs help, this is what I should do.”

Hearing Lin Xi’s grateful tears, Sheng Sui also couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief and smile: “And I’m very happy that you never gave up on Zhou Yi.”

Seeing that her student hadn’t been abandoned by his mother because of his special condition and hadn’t walked the same path as her, Sheng Sui felt genuinely happy.

But Lin Xi hesitated again: “What about Zhou Shiyu…”

“It’s fine, I’ll talk to him.”

After comforting her and hanging up, Sheng Sui held her phone and looked at the tightly closed door, letting out a helpless bitter laugh.

She should be able to convince Zhou Shiyu, right?

“No.”

Zhou Shiyu’s refusal was even more decisive than Sheng Sui had imagined.

Before leaving, while the man was in the walk-in closet choosing a watch, Sheng Sui went over and first ingratiated herself by throwing herself into his arms for a while, then slowly explained the fait accompli from her bathroom conversation.

“Lin Xi’s motives aren’t as pure as you think.”

Zhou Shiyu’s expression darkened slightly. He took out his black work phone from his pocket, about to call Secretary Chen immediately, explaining coldly: “She’s not worried about netizens’ comments. She just wants to use you to place herself on the moral high ground first, thereby reversing her own reputation.”

“This way, anyone who attacks and mocks Lin Xi because of Zhou Yi’s autism would be equivalent to harming a vulnerable group.”

Sheng Sui had naturally considered these points, but still reached out to grab the man’s arm, trying to stop him: “So what? Does that mean we can’t help her?”

She understood all too well that yesterday’s media video hadn’t leaked even a bit until now only because Zhou Shiyu had done all the damage control for her early on. Her choice to step forward now was undoubtedly personally destroying the calm that the man had worked so hard to build.

“It’s not for Lin Xi, and not just for Zhou Yi. If my words could make even one more person realize that certain comments and behaviors harm minority groups, I hope my voice can be heard.”

Sheng Sui’s gentle but firm voice rang out in the bedroom.

She looked up to meet Zhou Shiyu’s slightly cool eyes and said seriously: “If some things always need someone to do them before they can be seen; if some voices always need someone to speak them before they can be heard;”

“Could that person be me?”

“…”

Faced with her resolute attitude, Zhou Shiyu fell silent again. After a helpless sigh, he raised his hand to gently rub Sheng Sui’s head:

“Suisui, I know you don’t want to appear in the public eye—so, let me handle this matter, okay?”

“Zhou Shiyu, I can’t hide behind you for everything my whole life.”

Sheng Sui shook her head in refusal. After thinking for a moment, she suddenly changed the subject: “Did I ever tell you that my life was actually saved by two kind doctors in the hospital?”

“When I collapsed in the outpatient hall, it was a female doctor who carried me up several flights of stairs—she even lost her shoes running—before getting me to the emergency room. And when my father forcibly tried to take me out of the intensive care unit, the male doctor who protected me was injured in the arm by my father with an IV bottle and almost couldn’t hold a scalpel again.”

“People can’t survive independently. Although they might face malice from ignorant people, we can’t deny that there’s also a lot of kindness from strangers in this world,” Sheng Sui looked quietly at Zhou Shiyu, honestly revealing her personal motives for agreeing to help Lin Xi:

“I choose to help because I hope that if we encounter the same difficulties someday, there will also be kind people who will empathize and extend a helping hand to us.”

Seeing that although Zhou Shiyu remained silent, his tightly furrowed brows had silently relaxed, Sheng Sui knew the man’s heart was already wavering.

So she decided to strike while the iron was hot, leaning forward to hug him. Sure enough, the next second she was steadily supported at her waist by Zhou Shiyu’s warm and strong large palms.

Looking up with their four eyes meeting, the man’s dark eyes reflected her current sly smile, and then she heard Zhou Shiyu’s half-helpless, half-indulgent rhetorical question:

“I really can’t argue with you anymore—what else do you want to add?”

Sheng Sui curved her eyebrows with shallow dimples at the corners of her lips, hooking around his neck and standing on tiptoes, moving close to Zhou Shiyu’s ear, her warm breath falling entirely in the man’s neck hollow: “I just think that if those kind people hadn’t saved me then, I might not have been able to live to meet you.”

As she spoke, her tone paused slightly. After rehearsing in her mind once more, she lowered her volume and spoke word by word:

“Don’t you think so—”

“Shi-yu… ge-ge?”

Author’s Note:

Thank you very much for everyone’s support. I will continue to work hard!