Zhou Shiyu was always extraordinarily efficient in his work.

Before Sheng Sui could even ask Su Yingying for advice about wedding-related matters, the next evening after dinner, Zhou Shiyu called her to the study.

“…The wedding dress design is something MichaelJ and I worked on together—he’s a very famous Chinese-American designer. The wedding dress will be flown over in three days, and you can try it on anytime.”

“I’ve initially selected Bled Island in Europe as the venue. This natural island has a medieval church in its center, and you can get there by boat.”

“These are just the general matters. I’ve printed all the other detailed parts in this file, which you can look at when you have time.”

Under the warm, dim light, Zhou Shiyu held the sleepy Sheng Yi in one arm while his other hand curved, his slender fingers tapping on the stack of papers in front of Sheng Sui.

“Considering your work schedule, the wedding is tentatively set for the October Golden Week holiday,” the man’s tone was as steady and gentle as always, thoughtfully saying,

“This is just my preference. If you have other ideas, I’ll do my best to accommodate you.”

“…”

Experiencing her husband’s swift and decisive action for the first time, Sheng Sui slowly blinked after listening, looking at the stack of at least thirty pages in front of her: “Okay, I’ll take a look first.”

Seeing her stunned expression, Zhou Shiyu’s eyes sparkled with amusement. He raised his hand to ruffle her hair, then couldn’t help but lean down to kiss her.

Sheng Sui habitually closed her eyes and tilted her head up to cooperate. When she looked up again, she met the man’s dark eyes.

Zhou Shiyu’s hand supported the back of her head while gently massaging her neck, asking softly: “Too sudden?”

“Not really,” Sheng Sui shook her head, her cheek gently rubbing against the man’s warm palm. “I just feel like other families usually have the bride handle the wedding preparations, but I seem completely unable to help—”

Her voice cut off abruptly, her gaze stopping on Sheng Yi, who was sitting in Zhou Shiyu’s arms and tightly covering her eyes with her short little hands.

The little pink bundle had her eyes tightly shut, shrinking her neck inside the lamb onesie; seeming to notice Sheng Sui’s silence, she sneakily opened a crack in one eye.

Their eyes met, and Sheng Sui was amused by her daughter’s sneaky actions, reaching out to pinch her cheek:

“What is Yiyi doing?”

Sheng Yi hugged mommy’s hand and giggled: “Kiss kiss, daddy said no looking.”

“…”

Sheng Sui realized that because Zhou Shiyu always covered their daughter’s eyes when kissing her in front of the child, it had led to Sheng Yi’s instinctive reaction.

Thinking that all their past intimate gestures had been remembered by the child, Sheng Sui’s cheeks warmed slightly as she gave Zhou Shiyu a reproachful glance:

“Look what you’ve done. What should we do now?” Their daughter was going to be corrupted.

“It’s good,” Zhou Shiyu slightly raised his eyebrows, placing the round-bellied beige bundle on the desk, responding calmly word by word: “Teaching her from a young age to see no evil.”

Children love imitating adults the most. Sheng Yi didn’t understand but followed along innocently: “See no evil!”

Sheng Sui was torn between laughter and tears, rubbing her daughter’s head while asking Zhou Shiyu: “For the wedding, do you have people you want to invite?”

Perhaps naturally insensitive to romance, compared to many girls’ fantasies of sacred weddings, Sheng Sui was more concerned about how much social interaction this wedding would involve.

At Su Yingying’s wedding that day, Sheng Sui witnessed the bride having to personally greet guests at twenty tables—over a hundred people—with relatives occupying three large tables, friends and leaders on different sides, and the seating arrangements requiring much attention.

Just thinking about it was exhausting.

Regarding their families of origin, she and Zhou Shiyu were equally disastrous: phone calls from Yu Xuemei always ended in arguments, Sheng Qi only cared about retirement money, and the relatively peaceful relationship with Grandfather Zhou only involved contact during holidays.

As for friends, Sheng Sui only wanted to invite Xiao Ming, while Zhou Shiyu’s side, besides subordinates like Qiu Si and Xu Zhuo, only had one psychologist.

“…”

Thinking of this, Sheng Sui couldn’t help but sigh worriedly, supporting Sheng Yi who was standing up and trying to go toward Zhou Shiyu.

“The wedding is only about us two. Besides us, anyone else is irrelevant.”

Hearing this, Sheng Sui looked up to see Zhou Shiyu effortlessly scoop up their daughter. After the father-daughter pair stared at each other for a few seconds, she saw him slowly curve his lips: “Furthermore, about you saying you couldn’t help.”

The man’s voice was gentle and warm: “Suisui, I hope this wedding isn’t just a ceremonial formality for you—”

“But a surprise that will make you feel happy just by remembering it.”

On the night they confirmed the wedding date, Zhou Shiyu experienced a rare bout of insomnia.

Sheng Sui was undoubtedly the best medicine for him. After years of marriage, he couldn’t remember when he had last stayed awake all night.

At exactly 3 AM, his mind still chaotic and excited, Zhou Shiyu tucked in the covers for both Sheng Sui and Sheng Yi before going to the balcony connected to their bedroom.

In the cool early autumn night breeze, under the bright moon and sparse stars, Zhou Shiyu dragged the lounge chair against the wall so that his current position could see through the transparent glass door, past the thin gauze curtains, to the mother and daughter sleeping peacefully inside.

Sheng Yi had no blood relation to either him or Sheng Sui, yet somehow, Zhou Shiyu always felt that the tiny figure in the crib was growing more and more to resemble Sheng Sui.

Even her habit of sleeping face-down was exactly like Sheng Sui’s.

Zhou Shiyu gazed intently, watching the peacefully sleeping infant in the crib for a long time, his eyes taking in the clothes, blankets, and even the doll clutched tightly in her small hands—all things he had chosen—feeling deeply moved.

—He and Sheng Sui were married.

—They were jointly raising a life together.

—And it was this seemingly fragile life that had bestowed upon him the identity of “father.”

Everyone around them, including Sheng Sui, said his care for the child was unprecedentedly attentive and gentle.

But if he searched his heart, Zhou Shiyu knew all too well that he didn’t really have much emotion toward this child that Sheng Sui had longed for.

The thoughtfulness that others praised might stem from his guilt over being unable to give Sheng Sui a child related by blood to both of them.

Or it might stem from his self-redemption—having tasted bitterness in his original family and not wanting another innocent child with a difficult background to experience what he had.

There was also a small possibility that it came from his growing accustomed to having this child around as they spent time together.

Human emotions were indeed the most complex thing.

Only understanding this at thirty, Zhou Shiyu sat on the long chair, feeling the cool night breeze enter his lungs, looking down at the ring on his right hand, slightly lost in thought.

He and Sheng Sui were going to have a wedding ceremony.

In his peripheral vision, the black glass stone square table reflected the man’s slightly curved lips. Zhou Shiyu turned his ring, his mind conjuring the scene from shortly after their marriage when Sheng Sui had given him the matching ring, still vivid in his memory.

Momentarily immersed in memories, Zhou Shiyu felt his chest slightly swelling, until sudden door-opening sounds broke the night’s silence, followed by sobbing and crying.

It was Sheng Sui standing at the door, her beautiful face showing traces of sleepiness in the moonlight.

She held the inconsolably crying Sheng Yi in her arms, wrapped tightly in a thick wool blanket, but no amount of coaxing or holding would stop the crying.

“She suddenly started crying when you weren’t there.”

Seeing their daughter crying with a red nose tip, Sheng Sui was heartbroken. In her worry, she didn’t even ask why Zhou Shiyu was on the balcony in the middle of the night, only saying urgently: “She doesn’t have a fever and isn’t hungry. When I ask where she feels uncomfortable, she doesn’t say. Should we go to the hospital—”

“Don’t panic yet.”

Soothing her in a low voice, Zhou Shiyu frowned as he took the soft bundle with her flushed little face from Sheng Sui’s arms, first carrying Sheng Yi into the bedroom to avoid the wind, then lowering his head to gently press his forehead against their daughter’s forehead to check her temperature.

Her forehead wasn’t hot, didn’t seem like a fever. She hadn’t coughed during the day, didn’t seem like a cold either.

She’d had a checkup just last week, had been eating and sleeping normally these past few days, and had even acted spoiled wanting to hear stories before bed—it really didn’t seem like illness.

As his thoughts churned, Zhou Shiyu heard his beloved beside him make a small sound of surprise. Looking down, he saw Sheng Yi’s plump little hand had already grasped his sleeve. Though she was still sobbing, she had stopped shedding tears.

The man lowered his head, his tone unconsciously gentle: “I’m here. Why were you crying?”

“…Daddy, daddy…”

Sheng Yi sniffled like a kitten, wrapped in the blanket and struggling to move toward Zhou Shiyu, her hoarse crying voice touching people’s hearts.

Under the close attention of the new parents, the pink bundle opened her tear-reddened eyes, first looking at mommy, then pitifully at daddy, before settling contentedly into Zhou Shiyu’s arms and quickly falling into deep sleep, with tear tracks still on her cheeks.

Yet her small hand still tightly gripped Zhou Shiyu’s sleeve.

To accommodate Sheng Yi’s grip on his sleeve, Zhou Shiyu had to stand half-bent. When Sheng Sui tried to loosen their daughter’s grip, she saw the man gently shake his head.

Zhou Shiyu whispered: “It’s fine.”

For a moment, only three breathing sounds filled the bedroom.

The new parents nervously watched the soft pink little bean, even unconsciously lightening their breathing, until Sheng Yi in the blanket mumbled twice and habitually lay down to sleep, finally reluctantly releasing Zhou Shiyu’s hand.

Sheng Sui hurriedly took over their daughter, gently patting her as she carefully placed her back in the crib.

“Children’s sense of smell is much more sensitive than adults’. She probably wasn’t used to not having daddy’s scent around, which is why she suddenly cried—”

Explaining to herself, when Sheng Sui turned back to look at Zhou Shiyu, she saw the man looking down at his wrinkled sleeve under the bright moonlight filtering through the thin gauze, frowning slightly in thought.

“…”

With their daughter finally asleep, the new parents were no longer sleepy either. Sheng Sui deliberately placed a piece of clothing belonging to her and Zhou Shiyu beside their daughter’s bed, confirmed the monitor could capture everything, then carried warm water to the bedroom balcony.

“Why the sudden insomnia?”

Setting down the water cup, she naturally squeezed into the soft chair with Zhou Shiyu, leaning against the man’s solid chest:

“Because of the wedding?”

“Maybe.”

Zhou Shiyu’s tone seemed somewhat absent-minded, his head buried in the woman’s warm neck, willingly surrounded by her familiar light body fragrance.

The man held his beloved, his gaze once again unconsciously falling on his sleeve, murmuring lowly: “Worried about not doing well and having new regrets.”

“How could that be.”

Sheng Sui obediently let Zhou Shiyu intertwine their fingers, turning to embrace the man’s neck in a dependent posture: “You’ve always done wonderfully.”

“Whether as Mr. Zhou or as Sheng Yi’s daddy.”

Smoothing out the man’s wrinkled sleeve, Sheng Sui recalled the earlier episode and couldn’t help but smile:

“Don’t you think Yiyi is growing more and more like you?”

Zhou Shiyu curved his lips, playing with Sheng Sui’s fingers: “I actually think she’s growing more and more like you.”

“That means you love her as much as I do.” Sheng Sui looked up at him.

Seeing Zhou Shiyu fall silent on this topic again, Sheng Sui wasn’t surprised and just lazily leaned against his chest, continuing: “But there’s one thing where we mother and daughter are indeed the same.”

A cold wind swept by, and Zhou Shiyu opened his jacket to wrap Sheng Sui inside against his body, seeing her climb up and press her soft lips to his ear.

The woman’s voice carried a rippling smile: “—We both can’t do without you.”

To prevent her from moving around and sliding down, Zhou Shiyu wrapped his arm around her waist to hold Sheng Sui steady, raising his hand to lightly pat her rear to make her behave: “Don’t move around.”

“Do you know, when Yiyi was crying inconsolably just now, and as soon as you came she grabbed your sleeve and wouldn’t let go, I suddenly remembered a line I saw somewhere.”

“‘In this vast sea of people, there must be someone who exists solely because of you.'”

Sheng Sui was enveloped under the windproof thick jacket, even her voice sounding muffled. She looked up into Zhou Shiyu’s dark eyes:

“For you, maybe Yiyi is that kind of existence.”

Though he never admitted it verbally, Sheng Sui was very clear about how much patience and love Zhou Shiyu devoted to this child.

Besides love, a person’s life had so many other emotional needs waiting to be fulfilled. Her childhood pain and lack in her original family had been gradually resolved with difficulty in adulthood.

But Zhou Shiyu had never received any compensation.

And those emotional gaps from family—she could never fill those wounds.

The things she couldn’t do, perhaps Sheng Yi could.

Beginning to regret not capturing the scene of the man coaxing their daughter to sleep, Sheng Sui suppressed the upward curve of her lips and deliberately put on a stern face:

“But even if you become a devoted father, you mustn’t forget your wife, understand?”

Zhou Shiyu looked at his beloved with doting amusement as she lectured him.

After several years of marriage, he had finally cultivated in Sheng Sui some indulgence and little tempers that only showed when they were alone together, and he would spoil her even more boundlessly in the future.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Zhou Shiyu’s fingertip gently scraped across Sheng Sui’s nose tip. Just as he was about to stand and carry her back to the bedroom to sleep, he suddenly remembered something:

“I arranged most of the wedding, but if there’s anything you don’t like, you can directly veto it.”

“Mm… I do have one idea.”

Sheng Sui pondered for a moment, looking up at him: “On our wedding day, can I just wear the wedding dress without high heels? Switch to cloth shoes or sneakers instead.”

She remembered that Zhou Shiyu’s wish at the time didn’t seem to include wanting to see her in high heels either.

“Of course,” Zhou Shiyu knew Sheng Sui didn’t usually wear high heels, nodding and saying softly, “High heels hurt your feet. Let’s go with sneakers.”

“Hurting feet is secondary. The main thing is that high heels aren’t convenient for movement.”

“Before the vows, isn’t there a part where the bride walks toward the groom?”

Sheng Sui seemed to envision some scene and suddenly smiled warmly, her soft gentle voice instantly dispersing in the wind yet embedding word by word into Zhou Shiyu’s heart:

“I think, if I’m walking toward you, I’ll definitely run.”