Before the special scholarship defense, Xie Yichen took a flight home.

The quiet villa district was the same as always — buildings standing alone, keeping their distance from one another, the orange sunset resting on the horizon beneath an unobstructed, sweeping view.

Xie Zhenlin was on the balcony making one phone call after another, a few stubbed-out cigarette butts filling the ashtray beside him. Qiu Ruoyun’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion — she had just finished back-to-back emergency online meetings and sat down parched, pressing her fingers against her throbbing temples.

The psychiatric facility had also called not long ago, but at a moment like this, no one dared tell the old lady what had actually happened.

“— A’Chen, how on earth did you convince Du Junnian to help us?”

How the tables had turned.

Qiu Ruoyun had done everything in her power to stop it, yet she never could have anticipated where things would end up today.

If not for Xie Yichen, they might truly have had to sell off the company’s shares at a loss.

Half a lifetime of striving and scrambling, only to nearly end up with nothing — the weight of that fall was difficult to put into words.

Xie Yichen looked at her and let out a quiet laugh. “Mom, actually — there’s more to life than just profit. A lifetime is only so long. If you live it without warmth, maybe that’s the real loss.”

Qiu Ruoyun fell silent. For the first time, she set aside that air of superiority she always carried.

Somewhere along the way, her son had genuinely grown up.

Young and sharp-edged, with enough boldness and courage to spare — yet sometimes when he looked at things, he seemed more clear-sighted and mature than she was, a woman who had lived the better part of her life.

Could genuine feeling truly make a person willing to be bound?

The chaos of recent days had drained the last of her energy. Reaching middle age, Qiu Ruoyun found herself suddenly adrift in a kind of bewilderment.

Had they been doing it wrong, all these years?

They had missed so much, and owed debts to so many things far more precious.

Qiu Ruoyun looked at him for a long moment, her lips parting slightly, trembling — and for a long time, no words came.

A thousand things to say, and in the end they all dissolved into a single sigh: “A’Chen — I’m sorry.”

—

During the two days Xie Yichen was home, friends like Zhang Yuge and Lin Shuyu kept a close eye on how he was doing, but tread carefully and didn’t disturb him too often. When they couldn’t stand the waiting any longer, they simply went to find Ning Sui instead and asked how things were progressing.

Xie Yichen seemed to be holding up well enough, but Zhang Yuge knew his brother — he knew that when things first broke out, the situation at home must have been an absolute disaster. Several billion coming down like a hammer blow wasn’t something an ordinary person could withstand, and he could only imagine how crushing the pressure must have been.

Zhang Yuge searched his own heart honestly: if something like that had landed on him, it probably would have broken him completely. He felt a mix of sympathy and relief — thank goodness, in the end, a way out had been found.

In those few days, news about Shanying kept pouring in from every direction.

Word was that it would acquire and merge with Tengyun, integrating its SaaS and cloud computing platforms with a focus on the development and application of artificial intelligence.

Once the news broke, it stirred up waves — people everywhere talked and debated, opinions going in every direction — yet the market’s response turned out to be considerably calmer than any of them had expected.

【Wasn’t this the company that just got exposed for running off with money from some loan scheme?!】

【What is Shanying doing?】

【It wasn’t a loan scheme — it was blockchain and cryptocurrency】

【Ah, same difference】

【Wasn’t Tengyun planning to list on the Hong Kong stock exchange? Shame — their cloud services were doing pretty well】

【Actually… from Shanying’s business perspective, this is a smart move. The timing is right, and the price is low 👍】

……

Not long after, a financial media outlet revealed that once the merger was complete, Shanying intended to help Tengyun repay its debts and clear its obligations — and it also pledged to shut down the financial management side of the platform entirely going forward.

This was like a reassurance handed to the market. Public sentiment, which had been entirely one-sided since the crisis first broke, slowly began to shift toward the positive — like a rebound off the bottom.

Ning Sui understood that behind the scenes, Du Junnian had instructed Shanying’s PR team to guide the narrative. True to form for an internet media company, they had deep experience in this — no direct confrontation, just the lightest touch moving the heaviest weight, leaving people feeling both reassured and at ease.

Indeed — to have built a company this large, you couldn’t get there without real ability.

Whatever the case, it was finally possible to breathe.

In the evenings when Ning Yue came home from school, Ning Sui would video call with Xia Fanghui and Ning Deyan — all four of them, as usual, sharing the little things that had happened over the past few days. Ning Sui would sink into her chair at her desk, half-listening in a loose, unfocused sort of way.

Ning Deyan spoke with great conviction, declaring that Fanghui’s little rooftop vegetable garden had been an unequivocal mistake in judgment, heaving exaggerated sighs of suffering: “Now all the watering and fertilizing has become my job every single day. Can you believe it — I come home every week in a full suit and tie, and end up harvesting mushrooms on the balcony —”

Yes — in addition to growing leafy greens, Fanghui had brought home some mushroom cultures.

Xia Fanghui rolled her eyes. “It’s just a few mushrooms. What exactly is your problem with them?”

She paused, then proudly went on to share her philosophy of going green: “Besides, the seller said these are all pesticide-free, organic vegetables — good for your health.”

She was always like this — she’d read some inspirational article or expert opinion on an app and immediately become a devoted believer, then make a grand fuss dragging some overhyped new product into the house. Like the plasma air purifier, the facial rejuvenation device, the dual-purpose massage chair you could use while soaking your feet…

These things always sounded wonderful in theory and turned out to be completely impractical. In the end, nobody used any of them — not even Fanghui herself — and they all ended up piled in the storage cabinet.

But Ning Deyan knew better than to fight her on it. He offered a carefully diplomatic observation: “Yes, yes, completely organic. Just last week I spotted a snail in one of the pots. Maybe next time we could try a French family feast.”

Ning Yue, at the other end of the call, burst out laughing.

That laughter, however, was apparently too brazen, because it immediately caught Fanghui’s attention. “Shouldn’t you be in there doing your homework?”

“What?” Ning Yue protested. “Mom, I was just inside for an hour. I finished and came out to rest.”

Xia Fanghui: “An hour and you’re already done? That fast?”

Ning Yue puffed out his chest with pride. “Of course —”

Look how smart I am! Say it, tell me how great I am!

No one had expected their mom to offer such direct, wholehearted praise without any hedging — this was the first time — and Ning Yue’s eyes lit up instantly, his heart flooding with joy. Just as his metaphorical tail was about to shoot straight up into the sky, he heard her exhale with visible relief, hand pressed to her chest: “I was worried we were putting too much pressure on you. Looks like we can start getting you ready to study university-level material.”

“…”

Ning Yue: “???”

Ning Sui had long grown used to watching the two of them bicker. After the two of them went back and forth for a while, the video call finally ended. Ning Sui took a shower, put on a face mask, and leisurely climbed into bed to scroll through her phone.

Not long after, Xia Fanghui called again. “Xiao Ye, what’s going on?”

Ning Sui: “Huh?”

“You seemed a little off during the call just now,” Xia Fanghui said. “Did something happen?”

Ning Sui had always thought her mother’s instincts were startlingly sharp.

Because of everything going on with Xie Yichen’s family, the past few days had genuinely been a little chaotic. The special scholarship defense hadn’t been settled yet, and she had also been keeping a constant eye on the discussion forums and anonymous boards — some of the people who had been hoping to watch him fail, now deprived of that satisfaction, couldn’t help venting their frustration with a few more jabs. So Ning Sui often stayed on her phone until midnight, and her sleep had been later than usual.

She wasn’t sure how to explain it. The situation had more or less resolved itself, but it had been a big deal before, and she didn’t want Xia Fanghui to worry — after all, when her mother had first found out she was dating someone, her impression of Xie Yichen’s family hadn’t been particularly good.

But Fanghui had been in a good mood lately, warm and gentle. Ning Sui hugged her knees and sat up, staring blankly down at nothing for a moment. Finally, like releasing a long-held breath, she exhaled and told the truth: “…There’s something that’s been weighing on me a little.”

“What is it?” Xia Fanghui’s voice softened. “Tell Mom.”

“It’s just that…” Ning Sui curled her fingertips and murmured, “growing up feels like such a complicated thing.”

You start having to face so many things, to carry so much responsibility. From being held in your parents’ arms, learning to babble your first words, to eventually becoming someone who can stand on your own — stepping into a larger world, and then turning around to lead them forward with you.

These past few days, watching Xie Yichen ask for help, running back and forth handling everything for his family, every day full and busy — it had made her heart ache, yet at the same time filled her with an immense pride in him.

Her boy. After everything he had been through, he had emerged stronger, more mature, more unstoppable than before.

Maybe this was what growing up truly meant.

Through all of it, his parents had shifted — from those two unquestionable authorities who once had the final word on everything, to people who now increasingly leaned on and depended on him.

Xia Fanghui paused for a moment, then said softly: “Is it because you’re almost graduating — and you don’t want to let go?”

Perhaps it was the quiet passage of time — without even noticing, their senior year was nearly over. Only half a year left until graduation. Close your eyes, and the moment she first walked through the gates of Jing University felt as vivid as yesterday. Add to that all the preparation she’d been doing lately for her overseas applications, and there was always this unreal, untethered feeling sitting somewhere in her chest.

She rested her chin on her knees, unable to find the right words, and let out a slightly pouty sigh. “…Maybe.”

Xia Fanghui gave a quiet, knowing laugh.

A gentle breath passed between them. “Then let Mom tell you a story, alright?”

Ning Sui blinked. “Okay.”

“You know Mom didn’t grow up in Huai’an — I came here right after graduating from university, when your grandpa and grandma brought me along. Your grandpa had just been transferred here for work, and the city hadn’t developed much yet. It was really just a small fishing village.”

“Back then, everything about it felt completely foreign to me. I had no sense of footing at all. Mom had a junior college degree, and the job I got was one your grandpa arranged through his connections — working as a trader at a stock exchange. I had no idea what I was doing. Every day was just numbers, and the responsibility was enormous. A single misplaced decimal point could mean unimaginable losses.”

Ning Sui listened quietly, and Xia Fanghui went on: “At the time I felt the pressure crushing me. I was terrified of making a mistake — and of course, the thing you dread most is exactly what finds you. One day I wasn’t in the right headspace, or maybe I just wasn’t paying close enough attention, and I made an error entering an order. A client ended up losing several hundred thousand.”

“I was absolutely torn apart by the scolding. My position was already low, and I nearly lost the job entirely. It was only because your grandpa went around pleading on my behalf that my supervisor agreed to give me another chance.”

“That day, I felt truly terrible. Scared and sad all at once. I remember it was raining. I walked home in a daze, umbrella in hand, with no idea what to do with myself. The apartment was empty, and I was weighed down by so much emotion — I didn’t know who to turn to. I thought I’d call my closest friend from university, just to talk.”

Xia Fanghui was telling the story, and then she started to laugh. “You might not know this — back then, phone calls didn’t work with a number. You needed an operator. You’d tell them who you were looking for, and they’d connect you.”

Ning Sui blinked. “Wait, really?”

Xia Fanghui’s voice was gentle. “That’s when I met your father.”

Something in Ning Sui’s chest leapt.

“He was the operator on that call. I was on the verge of tears, and he must have been able to tell I was in a bad way. He happened to be about to go off shift, so he asked if I wanted to talk for a bit.”

“We ended up talking for half an hour. When we were about to hang up, he said he’d call me again the next day.”

“I don’t know why, but I agreed, just like that. We set a time — six o’clock the following evening.” Xia Fanghui’s voice lifted. “That time we talked for so long. We talked about ourselves, our interests, our lives, about your grandparents on both sides. There was almost nothing we didn’t talk about.”

“After that, without us having to say anything, we both just seemed to know — at six o’clock, one of us would try calling the other, to see if the line would connect. On my birthday, I left work the moment it ended and rushed home just to be there for his call — and on the way, I wasn’t being careful and tripped and scraped my knee.”

Xia Fanghui was laughing now — laughing at how endearing her younger self had been. “And then six o’clock came, and he didn’t call. I was so disappointed.”

Ning Sui couldn’t help asking: “And then?”

Xia Fanghui, with great satisfaction: “And then I walked to the window — and found him standing downstairs, holding a bouquet of flowers.”

“He said he missed me too much. He hadn’t told me he was coming. He just showed up, just like that, and wanted to tell me how he felt.”

Ning Sui didn’t quite know how to describe what she felt in that moment — only that she thought it was so romantic, so incredibly romantic.

So romantic her eyes were starting to sting.

Ning Sui: “And then?”

Xia Fanghui: “And then your father and I made it official. We started dating. Every single day, we called each other. Rain or shine, without fail.”

She laughed softly. “And then, later — we got married. And had two wonderful children.”

Ning Sui leaned back against her pillow, hugging her soft alpaca cushion, heart swelling with tenderness, pulsing with feeling — she had to fight the urge to cry.

It took a long moment before she could speak. “Mom — why have you never told me this before?”

Fanghui, unusually bashful: “You never asked.”

Ning Sui paused, thinking back on how things used to be between them. Xia Fanghui had always been the one sharing — but Ning Sui’s responses had never been all that enthusiastic, and gradually Fanghui had shared less and less. Moments where the two of them actually sat down and spoke from the heart had been genuinely rare.

A quiet settled between them, letting that tenderness — so full, so warm — move slowly through the space.

Xia Fanghui smiled. “Mom has plenty of stories. Whenever there’s time, I’ll tell them to you, one by one.”

Ning Sui raised a hand to touch her lashes and nodded. “Okay.”

A clear, lovely sound of wind chimes rang out from the doorway — Liang Xinyue had come back from outside. Ning Sui sat up straight in her upper bunk, looking out at the night, soft as water, while Xia Fanghui called her name: “Xiao Ye.”

Ning Sui’s heart gave a small start. “Hmm?”

“It’s alright if you don’t want to grow up.” Xia Fanghui said. “No matter when, you will always be Mom and Dad’s child.”

In that moment, Ning Sui’s tears came instantly, filling her eyes.

“But Mom wants you to know — growing up isn’t something to be afraid of.”

“What matters is who you choose to walk toward the future with. Two people who will hold each other up without wavering, who will stay by each other’s side, and through love, help each other become better.”

“My darling — that is what growing up truly means.”