“So when did we say we’re getting married?” Shang Zhitao rolled over to face Luan Nian as they lay in bed.

“You don’t seem to want to marry me?” Luan Nian pinched her cheek. “Hmm?”

“A gentleman uses his mouth,” Shang Zhitao protested.

“You’re right.”

And Luan Nian did use his mouth.

Lately, when he was alone, he often had wild fantasies, and Shang Zhitao was constantly provoking him. While he was still in meetings, she would send him a photo of her moist red lips, slender neck, and half-exposed chest; or when he was at a business dinner, she would send him a picture of her crossed long legs.

He would maintain a dignified facade and respond with a simple “?” Shang Zhitao would then pretend to be innocent and ask, “Does this nightgown look nice?”

She constantly teased him, as if she had attended some strange training. Luan Nian even wanted to pay for more sessions of her training class—he loved Shang Zhitao’s mischievous side.

The nights were the hardest. Looking at her photos, he would suddenly lose control. At first, he would get up and go running, but running didn’t help at all. During these times, he would curse Shang Zhitao in his mind: “Just you wait! I’m going to finish you off!”

Luan Nian was a man of his word, and he truly set out to “finish off” Shang Zhitao.

Shang Zhitao lay face down on the bed, refusing to move. He squeezed in beside her, pulled her up, and slapped her bottom. “You like sending photos, don’t you? Hmm?”

Sweat dripped onto her back, and he arched his body to suck it clean. Shang Zhitao was unsteady and fell into the bedding. His hand moved to her front, his teeth gently nibbling her earlobe, his tongue tracing the delicate skin behind her ear. Then suddenly, he turned her face toward him and silenced her cries with his mouth.

Shang Zhitao was completely defeated. She suddenly felt a bit annoyed with Lu Mi.

It was Lu Mi who had taught her to be sensual, even giving Shang Zhitao tutorials on what to say and when. Shang Zhitao had followed her advice, using these techniques to maintain their relationship, but in the end, she was the one who suffered.

Luan Nian had truly been driven to his limit by her.

When he was at his limit, she couldn’t handle it. She finally began to soften, calling him in a thin voice: “Luan Nian… I won’t send you photos anymore…”

Luan Nian pinched her face again: “Keep sending them, don’t stop. Send them every day, from head to toe, all of you.” His husky voice trembled against her ear. She tried to move away, but he wouldn’t let her, saying even more audacious things: “Videos are fine too, any kind of video.”

“I was wrong.”

“You weren’t wrong.” Luan Nian bit the spot below her collarbone. “Keep it up, I like it.”

Luan Nian was no saint; he had many dirty thoughts about Shang Zhitao. He wanted to try them all.

The night was so long, and after a week apart, the groundwork had been laid so well that this evening was destined to be unforgettable.

At one moment, Shang Zhitao even felt a flash of shame. She wanted to push him away, to hide herself from his gaze, but he pulled her hands away and buried his face down below. The sound of his swallowing made Shang Zhitao uneasy. Having just experienced one moment of pleasure, she was now incredibly vulnerable, and began to plead with him: “Luan Nian… don’t…”

“You don’t like it?”

Shang Zhitao wanted to say she didn’t like it, but she let out a warbling cry instead, unable to tell whether she liked it or not. All she knew was that Luan Nian was too relentless.

Luan Nian was too relentless, Shang Zhitao thought as she closed her eyes.

When she opened her eyes the next morning, she saw Luan Nian acting as if nothing had happened, replying to messages. Seeing her awake, he pulled her close: “Were you satisfied with last night’s service?”

Shang Zhitao’s face turned completely red: “Just a bit tired…”

“You’re tired?” Luan Nian snorted with laughter. “I was providing self-service, barely requiring your participation.”

“…”

Luan Nian was the type of person who could make suggestive comments that sounded like he was mocking someone, yet with precise descriptions that captured the essence. Shang Zhitao angrily bit his shoulder, her long hair falling in a thick cascade across his chest.

Luan Nian’s fingers twined through the ends of her hair and then released them. Shang Zhitao bit down harder, and he finally winced in pain, pinching her chin: “Are you a dog?”

“Who told you to dismiss my efforts?” Shang Zhitao said defiantly.

“How did you make an effort?”

“…I… made sounds…”

“That’s true.” Luan Nian’s lips touched her cheek, then slowly moved to the corner of her mouth, kissing her gently. Shang Zhitao loved this good morning kiss. Luan Nian seemed to be showing off his technique, kissing her until she felt dizzy, not even realizing when she had ended up sitting on top of him.

After fooling around for a while, they finally got out of bed. While getting dressed, Luan Nian asked Shang Zhitao, “Want to see a movie?”

“Yes!” Shang Zhitao jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed. She was fair-skinned, and simply putting on a muted-tone trench coat made her look both spirited and gentle.

Sometimes you have to admit that when two people have been together for a long time, their auras gradually merge. The other person’s temperament seeps into your bones. Even if you’re standing a meter apart, passersby can tell at a glance: these two are a couple.

Shang Zhitao was satisfied with everything except for Luan Nian’s damned demeanor. It was just a movie, yet he dressed so well, sunglasses hiding his eyes, accentuating the lines of his high nose bridge and thin lips. Just standing there waiting to enter the theater, he seemed to be showing off. Girls kept stealing glances at him, but he completely ignored them, lowering his head to ask Shang Zhitao: “No popcorn? No cola? Didn’t you say these were your movie companions?”

“…” Shang Zhitao had once complained that Luan Nian didn’t accompany her to the movies, saying, “Do you know how happy it is to watch a movie while holding cola and popcorn? You don’t understand at all, you boring old man!”

Luan Nian had remembered. He went to the counter to buy popcorn and cola before entering the theater with Shang Zhitao.

Shang Zhitao suddenly remembered Dr. Liang and Luan’s father at the hotel, and said to Luan Nian: “Let’s go find Dr. Liang after the movie.”

“Dr. Liang doesn’t need your concern.”

“?”

“They went on a countryside trip with your dad and Mr. Dai.”

“? They didn’t tell me?” Shang Zhitao was a bit surprised. “My parents didn’t tell me either?”

“Who do you think you are?” Luan Nian mocked himself. “I only just found out myself when I called.”

They looked at each other and laughed.

Sitting in the dark theater, Shang Zhitao rested her head on Luan Nian’s shoulder and asked him: “Why did you suddenly suggest seeing a movie? Are you planning to propose to me in the theater? Like when the movie ends, there will be credits saying ‘Shang Zhitao, marry me,’ and then everyone will stand up and cheer, and our friends will appear from around us to congratulate us?”

Proposals in movie theaters had become popular in recent years, and such videos were often shared online. Shang Zhitao felt a little nervous: “Is that it? Are you planning to propose to me today?”

“Not,” Luan Nian told her. “I’m not planning to propose to you.” Then he added two words: “Today.”

But Shang Zhitao didn’t believe him. She felt certain there would be a proposal today, otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested going to the movies. She watched the film absent-mindedly, frequently looking back to see if there were any familiar faces behind them.

For some reason, although she had never thought about marrying Luan Nian before, she suddenly felt expectant on this day. She didn’t have any particular requirements for a “proposal,” and as she watched the movie, she thought that even if they were walking the dog or having a meal, and Luan Nian simply said, “Let’s get married,” she would agree. A proposal while walking the dog would still be meaningful—after all, their dog son would be present.

Luan Nian noticed her distraction, but he was determined to say nothing. A lifetime was so long, what was the rush? He didn’t need those tricks to propose to her. He had his plans. As he had said before, inspiration might strike in an instant, but realizing good ideas and inspiration required refinement. Luan Nian’s perfectionism was at work again. Before that, he would play dumb and maximize the dramatic effect.

“If you don’t want to watch the movie, why not do something else?” Luan Nian placed his hand on her leg, his fingertips lightly moving upward until Shang Zhitao grabbed it, frightened. Luan Nian laughed and pecked her cheek, withdrawing his hand, then leaned over again after a while and asked: “Are you sure you don’t want to try something in the theater?” Seeing Shang Zhitao’s eyes widen, he grabbed her hand: “Watch the movie, or else we’ll do something else.”

Shang Zhitao was truly frightened by him and sat motionless, afraid that Luan Nian might try something. Watching a movie with Luan Nian was strange—he was just sitting there, yet his presence was overwhelming. Shang Zhitao kept wanting to look at him, and he would openly look back, taking advantage of the opportunity.

Leaving the theater, Luan Nian asked her, “Want to go to the library?”

“Huh?” Shang Zhitao was a bit confused. In the past, when Luan Nian visited, he preferred to stay at her home. At most, they would go to the supermarket to buy groceries; he rarely suggested going out on dates.

“Don’t you like going out on dates?”

“Yes.”

“So will you come to the library with me?” Luan Nian checked his watch. “First, let’s have afternoon tea, then go to the library.” He didn’t consult with Shang Zhitao at all—that’s how domineering he was.

“So what’s our itinerary for today?” Shang Zhitao suddenly felt excited. She didn’t mind not being in charge; the fact that Luan Nian wanted to spend a whole day on a date with her was thrilling enough. She was curious about how this man had planned their day.

“Next is afternoon tea, then the library, dinner afterward, then a bar to listen to music, and finally a walk home.” Luan Nian was very serious: “You can object, but I won’t change anything.”

Shang Zhitao burst out laughing: “I don’t object, I don’t object! Let’s go on our date!”

Luan Nian took her to a café for coffee and pastries, and then to the library to read. Shang Zhitao picked up a book about livestream e-commerce, while Luan Nian took a magazine.

He glanced at Shang Zhitao’s book and asked her: “Thinking about getting into livestream e-commerce?” He understood Shang Zhitao; whatever she did, she always studied first. If she couldn’t understand it, she wouldn’t enter the field.

“Is it too late to enter the market?”

“Not too late. You can consult Lin Chuner; their company has been doing agricultural aid projects.”

“I do indeed want to focus on agricultural products, to help farmers sell rice, beans, cabbage, garlic, and scallions.” Shang Zhitao whispered to Luan Nian: “Do you have any suggestions?”

“The core of livestream e-commerce is logistics and quality assurance. Figure out these two aspects. It’s a completely different field from your advertising agency.”

“Mm! I just have the idea; I haven’t decided yet.”

“Alright. Female entrepreneur of Ice City, I wish you success.” Luan Nian patted her head and went back to flipping through his magazine.

For dinner, they chose a Russian restaurant near the bar. Shang Zhitao rarely ate Russian food alone, and never ate Western food when gathering with friends from Ice City. The Russian food in Ice City was quite authentic. When Shang Zhitao was little, her father would occasionally take her there after receiving his salary. As she grew up, these visits became rare—it had been over ten years since she last entered a Russian restaurant in Ice City. The European-style decor of the restaurant was quite grand. Luan Nian had reserved seats in advance; otherwise, they would have had to wait in line for a long time.

As soon as they sat down, the day’s performance began. Beautiful Russian girls and boys played violins and sang, creating a lively atmosphere.

Shang Zhitao enjoyed the borscht, sipping it little by little, savoring its rich flavor. As she drank, she commented: “I wish I could have borscht at home.”

“I’m not your hired chef. Make it yourself if you want it.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, the music quieted down, and many people around them stood up and began singing a love song. Some took out cameras and phones to record. Luan Nian glanced at Shang Zhitao’s expression and cursed inwardly: Damn, what a coincidence today.

“Shang Zhitao,” he called to her.

“Hmm?”

“It’s not me proposing to you, so control your expression.”

Indeed, it wasn’t him. As people sang, a young man stood up from a table, reached out to take his girlfriend’s hand, and gave a long speech about their journey together, hoping they would be together forever. The young man knelt on one knee, took out a ring, and the girl burst into tears. It was so touching that Shang Zhitao even felt emotionally connected to them.

Luan Nian watched Shang Zhitao cry and laugh at someone else’s proposal like a big fool.

After the proposal ceremony ended, Shang Zhitao turned to the table and said to Luan Nian: “That was so touching.”

Luan Nian raised an eyebrow: “You were expecting it just now, thinking I was going to propose to you? Are you that eager to marry me?” he asked, taking a bite of steak.

Shang Zhitao also raised an eyebrow: “Mr. Luan is too confident.”

After dinner, they went to a nearby bar.

The bar was quiet, with everyone leaning back on the sofa chairs listening to singers. Luan Nian found a window seat, ordered two drinks, and leaned back on the sofa. Shang Zhitao leaned against him as they quietly listened to the music.

Sometimes she felt tired.

Running your own company was different from working at someone else’s. Every day she had to think about business strategies because it concerned the livelihoods of over fifty people in her company. If she wanted to introduce other manufacturers’ agencies, she would have to hire even more people.

With her mind occupied by various matters, it was rare to have such a perfect day where she didn’t have to think about work, or even think about what to do—Luan Nian had planned everything.

Luan Nian walked to the small stage, exchanged a few words with the singer, who handed him a guitar. Luan Nian sat down with the guitar and said into the microphone: “Shang Zhitao, want to sing a song?”

Everyone in the room looked at Shang Zhitao, a graceful young woman with a bright face that resembled the spring of Ice City.

“Me?”

“Us.” Luan Nian invited her to sing with him. He didn’t particularly enjoy being in the spotlight in such settings, but at this moment, with the spring night so beautiful and the bar’s atmosphere just right, he suddenly had the idea.

“Then I want to sing ‘Way Back Into Love.’ Can you do that?” Shang Zhitao was a bit challenging.

“You think I can’t?”

Luan Nian strummed the strings a couple of times: “Come on, Ms. Shang.” He looked at Shang Zhitao. The bar was dim, but the light in his eyes was dazzling, clearly in love with the girl before him. Everyone was watching them, and some took out their phones.

This was the first time in all their years of knowing each other that they sang together.

Shang Zhitao looked at Luan Nian. He was still arrogant, but different from before, because he loved her; his gaze was gentle when he looked at her. Shang Zhitao’s heart raced wildly. She took out her phone and asked the singer: “Could you help me record this?”

Their first duet was worth commemorating.

Luan Nian played the intro, sometimes watching the strings, sometimes watching Shang Zhitao.

Their voices matched well, and the melody was beautiful. Each glance they shared was like spring swallows carrying mud, building a nest in each other’s eyes.

When the song ended, they both stood up and nodded slightly to the audience before returning to the window. Shang Zhitao opened the video to watch—sparks flew whenever their gazes met. She loved it so much. She sent it to Sun Yu, Lu Mi, and He Yun, and also to the small group chat with Lin Chuner and the others. Luan Nian casually posted it to his group chat.

The chat with his brothers exploded. Chen Kuannian teased: “Come and see middle-aged people in love! So sour and smelly!”

“Only that romantic plan that’s making Luan Nian lose sleep stands between you and success,” Tan Mian said.

“So what stage are you at?” Song Qiuhan asked.

“Working intensely on it,” Luan Nian replied.

He had never imagined that the most heartfelt work of his life would not be used for his career, but for this moment. He had used almost everything he had ever learned, yet still felt it wasn’t good enough. He hadn’t even realized that in this relationship, he had given his heart and soul, leaving no way out.

A man approaching forty, giving his heart and soul for love. How many people would believe that? How much ridicule would it invite? Who cares! He was willing.

Sun Yu saw the video and said to her: “You guys should consider getting married. Our company now offers marriage counseling services. Hahaha.”

Lu Mi said: “Damn! My stubborn mule is no longer stubborn! But why is she even sexier now?”

Shang Zhitao reminded her to watch her language and told her, “I’ve used everything you taught me. I can’t handle the consequences.”

“Tsk tsk. A man rich in years and vigor. Well, I have other tricks. Want to learn more?”

“Might as well learn. You’re never too old to learn,” Shang Zhitao joked.

Lin Chuner watched them sing and thought they were a perfect match.

Shang Zhitao’s sunshine, brightness, and gentleness enveloped Luan Nian, wrapping his sharp edges—not dulling them, the edges were still there, just covered up, so perfectly.

She said: “People in love don’t need to speak; love is in their eyes, at the corners of their mouths, even in the tips of their hair.”

“The poet has begun,” Xiaomei teased her.

Shang Zhitao loved this day so much.

She knew it was truly rare to have a whole day like this where she could completely let go and simply go on a date with Luan Nian. Tomorrow, Luan Nian would fly back to Beijing, and they would each return to their battles. Shang Zhitao wasn’t sad about this; she liked their arrangement.

But she knew that although they could only be together two days a week, she had started to depend on Luan Nian. In the past, Luan Nian had been her work mentor, and she would seek his answers when facing problems; even though she loved him then, she hadn’t truly depended on him. But now, she did depend on him.

When she encountered trouble, she would tell him; when she needed help, she would find him; whenever she had free time, she would contact him. When apart, they each worked hard; when together, they were each other’s priority.

They had gradually found a true balance between them.

That night, Luan Nian stood in front of the bookshelf in Shang Zhitao’s living room and said to her: “I completely understand the feelings between you and him back then. I also understand what these books mean to you. I will cherish these books with you, and also cherish the true feelings that belonged to you two, and the youthful years you shared.”

Shang Zhitao nodded and jumped into his arms: “Luan Nian, I loved today.”

This day was truly wonderful.