Shang Zhitao finally learned about Luan Nian’s crazy plan on the morning of their departure.

A journey across thirteen thousand kilometers of borderlands, eventually returning to Beijing.

“So we’ll be on the road for thirty days!” Shang Zhitao sat in the passenger seat, suddenly excited. Luke barked once: “What? I’m going on a journey of over ten thousand kilometers?”

“I originally wanted to take you to see the aurora, but it’s difficult for us to go abroad. So,” Luan Nian shrugged, “let’s set off!”

“I love the aurora, but I love being with you more. So, let’s go!”

“Let’s go!”

They set off toward the morning glow. The northern highways had smooth traffic. It was early summer, June, with everything flourishing and greenery all around. Shang Zhitao was full of anticipation for the journey. She suddenly felt grateful that Luan Nian had asked her to arrange time to participate in his crazy travel plan. After all, she had passed the age of impulsiveness, yet she was with the impulsive Luan Nian.

“Then why don’t we travel all along the national border?” Shang Zhitao asked him. “I can arrange my work! We can go for three months! No problem!”

“There’s plenty of time ahead.” Luan Nian turned his head to look at her. “If you’re willing, we can do this once every year, and I’ll accompany you until the end.”

Shang Zhitao loved how Luan Nian said he would accompany her until the end, with his usual domineering and fierce manner, and his unconscious sexiness.

“But I only brought my underwear and nothing else. Because I didn’t know where we were going.”

“Everything is in the trunk.”

“All my clothes?” Shang Zhitao asked, confused.

“Yes.” Luan Nian had selected travel outfits for Shang Zhitao according to his preferences. He was confident his taste would satisfy her, and if not, she would just have to endure it.

Dr. Liang was always worried that he would make Shang Zhitao suffer. Before the trip, she instructed him: “Listen to the girl’s opinions more, and don’t be so stubborn and harsh when you speak.”

“If Taotao gets tired or sick, you must take good care of her. Bring her back in good condition just as you take her out.”

“Also, be careful with protection. Premarital pregnancy is not good.”

Luan Nian felt that Dr. Liang loved Shang Zhitao too much, which he found curious. He teased Dr. Liang: “I’m your son.”

Dr. Liang shook her head: “Your personality is too terrible. Taotao is mentally and physically healthy.”

The two drove rapidly on the highway. Luan Nian gave Shang Zhitao a hand-drawn route map—a map of China he had drawn himself, with circles around the places they would visit, though without any text. Shang Zhitao realized Luan Nian was such a good artist.

“Your handwriting is good. When we stop at the service area later, you can write the text.”

“Write what?”

“Which day, what date, corresponding location.”

“So we’ll have a travel map that we completed together?”

“Yes.”

“Can we do this every time in the future?”

“Yes.”

Had Luan Nian attended a romantic training class? Shang Zhitao found it strange. He was never such a soft person before. If she had done something like this in the past, he might have even mocked her.

But this idea was great. He could draw, she could write, and together they would complete a travel map.

At the service area, they went in and found a table. Luan Nian took out a box of colored pens: “Write now. Dates starting from today, each mark is one day.”

Shang Zhitao wrote carefully and finally learned their entire travel route. She wondered how long Luan Nian had researched this—he must have memorized the map of their homeland perfectly.

From Mohe in the north to Manzhouli on the China-Russia border, from the sacred river of the Mongolians, the Erguna, to the city of Arxan in the Greater Khingan Mountains, from the Nine Bends of Xilin to the Populus euphratica forests of Ejina, from the dreamlike Keketuohai to Kanas, from Alashankou to the great grasslands of Nalati, from the exotic Kashgar to the uninhabited Ali, from the sacred mountains and lakes to Everest Base Camp, from Shigatse to the holy pilgrimage site of Lhasa, from Lhasa to the sun-lit Nyingchi. This was the route Luan Nian had chosen, crossing mountains and seas, finally converging at the gate of time.

Their journey would take them through mountainous grasslands, across uninhabited areas, and snow-capped mountains and lakes. At the end of the road, there would still be road, and beyond the mountains, there would still be mountains.

This journey was a magnificent feat in Shang Zhitao’s life.

As Shang Zhitao wrote the dates, she asked Luan Nian: “Have you been planning this for a long time?”

“What else?” Luan Nian laughed at how foolish her question was. Of course, he had been planning for a long time.

“Then why didn’t you let me participate in the planning?” Shang Zhitao asked him.

Luan Nian couldn’t answer her directly: I couldn’t let you participate because this is the honeymoon trip I’m giving you.

The map was truly beautiful. After finishing writing, Shang Zhitao picked it up to look at it, unable to put it down. She wanted to show it off: “Can you take a picture of me? Me holding the map, you take the photo, I want to post it on WeChat Moments.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I drew it, you need to be in the photo with me.”

Luan Nian set up a tripod. He leaned casually against the car, Shang Zhitao held the huge map with both hands, and Luke sat in front of them. Shang Zhitao smiled at the camera, while Luan Nian smiled at Shang Zhitao. It was like a travel promotional photo.

Shang Zhitao posted on WeChat Moments: “With Mr. Luan, traversing mountains and rivers.”

Luan Nian looked at it and also posted on WeChat Moments. To be precise, he copied Shang Zhitao’s: “With Ms. Shang, traversing mountains and rivers.”

Everyone knew what this WeChat Moments post meant.

It meant they were completely public in front of everyone, with no way back. And neither wanted a way back, which was wonderful.

Openly loving and being loved.

Jiang Lan sent Luan Nian a message: “Is it finally settled?”

“Completely,” Luan Nian replied.

“Then I’m going to be so sad, I’ll never get to sleep with you in this lifetime.” Jiang Lan was joking. The two had become good friends, and Jiang Lan spoke without any taboos.

“Not in the next life either. Shang Zhitao has stamped me as hers.”

Luan Nian stubbornly believed that he and Shang Zhitao would have a next life, and a life after that. He felt that being such a lazy person, if he changed partners, he would certainly not adapt, so it was better to commit to her for life after life.

Luan Nian shuddered, feeling he was being too sentimental.

Chen Kuannian threw the photo into the group chat and joked: “I seem to see Luan’s intense 30 days of ‘gunfire.'”

“It’s not that bad, after all, they’re not that young anymore. The body might not be able to handle it,” Tan Mian teased.

Luan Nian only tagged Chen Kuannian: “Remember to supervise the construction every day.”

“I’ll be a turtle if I don’t go, okay?”

Luan Nian was reassured.

His friends might not speak seriously, but they were reliable when it came to doing things. As he was about to put away his phone, he saw Zang Yao’s reply: “Congratulations on finding your love’s hand when your life is already halfway through.”

Then he saw Lu Mi’s message: “Oh my! This girl looks familiar, isn’t this my Taotao? Oh, so Luke is in love with my Taotao!”

Crazy woman, Luan Nian cursed Lu Mi in his heart.

They both put away their phones, looked at each other, and then at Luke: “Officially setting off?”

“Officially setting off!”

Luke barked once: Let’s go!

Luan Nian put on his sunglasses and gave a pair to Shang Zhitao. After she put them on, she realized they were a couple’s matching style. Her heart felt a little sweet, but she teased him: “Who was it that said using couple’s matching items was the most tacky thing?”

Luan Nian took off his sunglasses and looked at her, then put them back on, not admitting that he had said those words.

“So are there any other surprises on this trip?”

“Every day,” Luan Nian said.

He had put all his thought into this journey, just to make Shang Zhitao happy when she remembered it in the future, and also to let her win in those moments when comparisons were made. Although he knew Shang Zhitao didn’t like making comparisons.

The two headed toward Mohe.

The northern country was vast and open. The black soil extended to connect with mountain ranges—great mountains and rivers that stirred the emotions. Shang Zhitao sat in the passenger seat, eating snacks. Luan Nian sneered at those snacks: “How old are you to still eat these?”

“What kind of stuff is that? It’s all gutter oil.”

“Eating one bag of chips requires three hours of swimming to burn off.”

“You’re eating that junk too?”

Shang Zhitao shook her head: “I’m not listening to nonsense.”

Then she tore open a pack of spicy strips, arranged them neatly, and gave them to him. Luan Nian didn’t eat, so she glared at him: “Quickly!”

He reluctantly ate them. The taste was surprisingly good. Shang Zhitao watched his expression and knew he probably liked it, so she arranged another small piece and carefully placed it in his mouth. She understood Luan Nian; he hated getting food around his mouth, finding it dirty—he was just that particular.

“Is it okay?” Shang Zhitao asked him.

“It’ll do.”

Shang Zhitao pouted. The old man was just being stubborn!

“What will we eat when we reach Mohe today?” Shang Zhitao asked. “If only we could go to Yanbian, it would be great—like a little Korea, the food is so delicious.”

“We can go to Yanbian anytime. Look now to see what we’ll eat tonight.”

“Alright!”

Shang Zhitao took out her phone to see what to eat. The screen was full of iron pot stews, so she put the phone away: “Iron pot stew.”

“Good. Big goose?”

“Yes!”

Discussing and agreeing peacefully.

Dr. Liang called to ask them: “Have you set off?”

“Yes.”

“Good, be careful. Say hello to Taotao for me.”

“She’s right beside me.”

“Dr. Liang, I’m here. Thank you.”

On the other end of the phone, Dr. Liang was laughing. After a while, she said, “Earlier, Luan Nian said you were conditioning your body. I found a specialist for you. When you have time to come to Beijing, I’ll take you to see them. But no matter what conditioning you do, you must ensure you get rest, do you understand?”

“Yes, thank you, Dr. Liang.”

“Don’t thank me. Enjoy your vacation and have fun. If Luan Nian bullies you, bully him back.”

Shang Zhitao burst into laughter: “Okay! I’ll bully him right now!”

Luan Nian made a cutting sound and hung up the phone, then turned to threaten Shang Zhitao: “Try bullying me once?”

“Hmph!”

It was only when Shang Zhitao opened her eyes the next morning that she understood what Luan Nian meant by having surprises every day. Each day, the clothes they wore were carefully selected. When she put hers on and looked at Luan Nian, she discovered they were wearing matching outfits. Not the common kind found in the market, but made from the same fabric, with attention to detail at the sleeves, collar, or seams—not showy, but truly beautiful.

The two stood in front of the mirror looking at each other, truly looking like a young married couple. Shang Zhitao was overjoyed: “You secretly had clothes custom-made! And this one fits me so well! How did you know my size?”

“I’ve touched you so many times…” Luan Nian glanced at her. He knew her size best; it had all been measured personally by his mouth and hands.

“How can you be so vulgar!”

Luan Nian ignored her and continued to lead her on the journey.

On the border road from Manzhouli to Erguna, the early summer grass had just begun to grow wildly, changing daily. Luan Nian stopped the car in front of a boundary stone and said to Shang Zhitao: “Let’s take a commemorative photo.” The romantic side of Luan Nian, deeply hidden in his bones, was at work again. Boundary stones and markers would be collected into an album, with many stories to tell in the future. Moreover, the clothes he had custom-made had a bit of a couple’s travel photoshoot style—a travel photoshoot over fifteen thousand kilometers, magnificent enough.

At the small boundary stone, they set up a tripod and took photos for a long time. Luke played by himself, stopped by an iron fence, and barked at a foreign hunting dog across the fence: Come over here! I’m not afraid of you!

The hunting dogs on the grassland were all fierce. One growled and stepped forward, making Luke drop his tail and run to Luan Nian’s side: Woof! It’s bullying me!

“Didn’t you provoke it first? You deserve it.” Luan Nian ignored him, got in the car, and looked through the photos. The background was spacious enough, and they both looked good, making for excellent photos.

“So will we have many, many photos together in the future?” Shang Zhitao asked him.

“Many, many.”

Shang Zhitao’s nose felt a bit sour. Sometimes she regretted that they didn’t have many photos together. Luan Nian regretted it even more. He had watched the drone video of them countless times, and in all their time together, there was only that one video and one set of photos to prove the years they spent together. It was too thin.

“I’ve also prepared a surprise for you,” Shang Zhitao said.

“What surprise?”

“I think you can look forward to it.”

Luan Nian’s appetite was whetted by Shang Zhitao. Halfway through their journey, one night, Shang Zhitao suddenly wanted to eat fruit. The fruit in Kashgar Old City was, of course, delicious, with almost no flaws except that it got dark late. Luan Nian went out for half an hour, and when he returned and pushed open the hotel room door, he saw that the room was dark. He called out: “Shang Zhitao.”

“Close the door.”

Shang Zhitao said.

Luan Nian closed the door, and a dim night light illuminated the room. A pole extended from the floor to the ceiling.

Shang Zhitao walked out from the side, approached Luan Nian, one hand against his chest, the other gripping his collar, leading him forward.

Luan Nian’s eyes fell on her outfit: a black tube top with her snow-white waist exposed between it and her flat-bottomed pants, and thigh-high stockings just above the knee.

Shang Zhitao was truly enchanting.

Luan Nian wanted such surprises every day. His gaze gradually showed a killing intent, but before he could act, Shang Zhitao pushed him onto the bed, her lips against his: “The following performance is to reward you for your hard journey.” Mimicking his tone: “Take it!”

When she had accompanied Shang Shu to learn pole dancing, it was just a spontaneous interest. Pole dancing wasn’t easy to learn, but fortunately, her body was flexible, though she got bruises all over. At that time, she thought she was crazy for learning this. But seeing Luan Nian’s gaze now, she understood that learning this was quite useful. What man is truly a perfect gentleman?

She hadn’t learned it for Luan Nian; she truly wanted to please herself. Perhaps every woman has such rebellious moments, rejecting traditional ideas. When a person dances on the pole, they can get infinitely close to freedom. At this moment, she liked Luan Nian’s gaze. When couples are together, they can’t always maintain a dignified facade; there must be times like this, for their indulgence and loss of control.

The music was ambiguous, the air was charming, and Shang Zhitao got on the pole. She danced in the air, her long hair flying with her. Her eyes looked at Luan Nian, whose eyes contained light and fire, as if he wanted to burn her completely.

When she bent backward against the pole, she saw Luan Nian stand up, slowly taking off his clothes, his eyes lingering on her body, finally locking onto her eyes as he slowly walked toward her. Shang Zhitao flipped up, and Luan Nian’s hand fell on her waist, pulling her away from the pole with one motion. She protested: “I haven’t finished dancing…”

Luan Nian threw her onto the bed and covered her with his entire body: “Dance again tomorrow.”

A great fire was raging in his body, and Shang Zhitao, the firestarter, couldn’t escape responsibility. He wanted to burn her bit by bit—no, he couldn’t do it bit by bit, he had to do it right away. Luan Nian was urgent and a bit rough, trapping Shang Zhitao in his world, burning this great fire with him.

Shang Zhitao refused to submit, her lips against his: “Today I’m in charge.” She pushed him down with force, flipped on top, and pressed Luan Nian’s raised head down: “Take it slow.”

In Kashgar, the night came late and the day dawned late. There was still plenty of time; what was the rush?

The battle line was drawn out very long, with neither showing any sign of stopping. Perhaps Shang Zhitao’s performance was too unforgettable—whenever Luan Nian closed his eyes, he saw her dancing on the pole. She had always been like this, with an obedient face, yet uninhibited when alone. Knowing what was appropriate, she was the best in the world.

When it finally ended, they welcomed Kashgar’s true deep night. Luan Nian pointed at the pole: “How did you conjure that up?”

“It’s portable, can be assembled and disassembled anytime, packed in a small box, and is easy to carry.”

“How did I not see it?”

“Hidden under all the equipment you prepared…” Shang Zhitao was a bit proud. “Otherwise, how could I surprise you?”

“I like your unyielding spirit. Keep it up.” Luan Nian kissed her face, and they slept in each other’s arms.

=====

As their car neared Lhasa, Shang Zhitao’s mind was filled with memories of that year. They had set off on a whim, in the best period of their lives. Later, once or twice, she had the impulse to go to Tibet alone again, but ultimately couldn’t make it happen due to various reasons.

She had never thought she would come to Tibet again, and with Luan Nian.

After experiencing so many years, counting carefully, life doesn’t have that many decades.

Shang Zhitao felt a mix of emotions. When the car drove into Lhasa, she finally reddened her eyes.

“Luan Nian, can you stop the car?”

Luan Nian stopped the car, and neither of them spoke. It was quiet in the car. Shang Zhitao sobbed once, took off her sunglasses, and wiped her tears.

She felt she had become strong enough, and she rarely cried in recent years. She pursued the value of life, ignored all the pain experienced during the process, and countless times consoled herself that it was just a necessary path that everyone had to walk.

Yet she had regrets, because she had loved someone in the best years of her youth, but it had been an unrequited love.

Shang Zhitao looked at Lhasa in front of her. The Potala Palace was not far away. Back then, she had made a pilgrimage here and wished that both of them would live to a hundred, and if possible, walk a bit more of life’s journey together. She didn’t even dare to hope for eternity.

Luan Nian held her hand, finally took off his sunglasses, and wiped the corner of his eye with his fingertip, his eyes red.

If time could turn back, Luan Nian knew he would do better than he had then. He wouldn’t have wasted from his twenties to his thirties, wasting those good ten years. He was very sorry that Shang Zhitao had met him when he was so terrible.

They walked along Barkhor Street with Luke. That photography studio was still there. They stood across from it and saw that their photo was still hanging there. Luan Nian had taken one away; the clever owner had given him the negative but made a copy for himself, thinking they would never return.

In the photo, they had brilliant smiles, in the prime of their lives, with bright faces under the Tibetan sunlight.

The studio owner came out to see off a customer and noticed them standing across the street. He was taken aback, then extended his hand in welcome. He even said to passersby: “Look quickly! My models have come! They’re still together!”

The studio owner had seen so many people come and go, gather and disperse. People who came to take photos often pointed at that photo: “We want to take one like this.”

While doing makeup, they would always ask: “Are these two people models?”

“No. They were a young couple traveling here.”

“Are they still together? Are they married? Do they have children?”

The owner never knew how to answer: “Perhaps.”

This time, they asked the owner to take photos again. The owner asked what they would wear, and Luan Nian said: “Just what we’re wearing.”

He had custom-made over twenty sets of travel clothes, and the ones for this day in Lhasa were the most formal. He went to the car and brought back a custom-made white veil with osmanthus bud decorations, like a tree that had sprouted flower buds in early spring. Under Shang Zhitao’s warm gaze, he draped it over her and whispered: “Will you leave the spring light in Lhasa?”

“I will.”

The moment the owner pressed the shutter, Shang Zhitao and Luan Nian looked at each other. In this glance, there was deep affection and long friendship.

This time, the owner didn’t charge them. He only asked: “Can I put this photo next to that one?”

“Yes.”

“And when you have children, can you come back once more? Still here, I’ll take another set of photos for your family, making it complete.”

“Alright.”

From then on, when people stood on the bustling Barkhor Street and looked at this studio, they would see the story of two people, remembered by time.

====

The night before they finished their journey and returned to Beijing, Shang Zhitao received a call from Lin Chuner.

“Taotao, is Luan Nian beside you?”

“He went out to take a call, said he would be back much later, don’t know what he’s doing, very mysterious.”

“That’s good.” Lin Chuner smiled and said: “Taotao, I want to send you a video. Watch it yourself, but don’t let Luan Nian know you’ve seen it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Friends felt that it hadn’t been easy for the two of them over so many years. They were worried that Shang Zhitao’s heart wasn’t boiling yet, and feared that Luan Nian would end up with nothing after all his efforts. So Lin Chuner came up with this idea. She said: “What’s the use of that video on your phones except to mock Luan Nian? It should be sent to the person who should see it most.”

Shang Zhitao opened the video and first saw the aurora.

In the year of their wedding journey to Lhasa, during the New Year, Luan Nian had said to her: “Let’s see the aurora together next year?”

Later, they separated, and Luan Nian went to chase the aurora with friends.

The aurora was truly beautiful, floating between heaven and earth. Shang Zhitao heard several men talking, along with the sound of glass cups clinking together. The camera turned, and she saw Luan Nian.

He was on the phone.

The cameraman asked him: “Who are you calling?”

Luan Nian seemed to have drunk too much, his eyes and the tip of his nose all red, his speech unclear: “Calling the person I love.”

“I want to share the aurora with her.”

Shang Zhitao heard Luan Nian murmur her name: “Shang Zhitao, I came to see the aurora. The aurora is beautiful.”

“It’s very cold here, especially cold, colder than Ice City.”

“The aurora is so beautiful, we agreed to come see it together, but you disappeared. It’s okay, I came to see it. I’m telling you about it now…”

As Luan Nian spoke, he burst into tears, with mucus running down. He wiped it away with his hand, completely without his usual dignity and manner: “The aurora is especially beautiful, too beautiful to seem real. Floating and magnificent, like a dream.”

“I’m sorry, sorry for many things. I hope you’re doing well. In your lifetime, you must come and chase the aurora once.”

“I miss you. I miss you very much. I’m not drunk, I miss you.”

“I love you. I hope you know that.”

“I also hope you know that in those years, I gave my true heart.”

“I know I was terrible, I don’t deserve to be loved, I’m prepared to grow old alone, I hope you marry someone good, are surrounded by children and grandchildren, and are happy all your life.”

“You must come and see the aurora once, the aurora is especially beautiful. Really.”

He rambled on, dialing and redialing, saying the same things over and over. At the end of the video, someone took away his phone, and a voice said: “The number you have dialed is not in service.”

Shang Zhitao’s face was streaming with tears. Back then, she had left him, experiencing heart-wrenching pain. How many nights she had sat by the window watching the strong winds of Ice City blow down withered branches, thinking of him again and again. In the years when they both thought they didn’t deserve love, they had come close to love. But they had missed it.

“Taotao, what I want to tell you is that separating and meeting again is already difficult. We all hope you two can grow old together,” Lin Chuner sent her a message, and Shang Zhitao replied: “Okay.”

====

Luan Nian drove the car up the mountain. Shang Zhitao asked him: “Aren’t we going home to unpack?”

“We haven’t reached the end of the journey yet.”

The end of the journey was a garden Luan Nian had created for Shang Zhitao.

Green trees and wild grass danced with the summer wind at the edge of the mountain. Sunlight dappled their faces, with shadows flitting past, like time weaving dreams.

Luan Nian stopped the car: “Let’s go.”

On this day, they wore the last set of custom clothes from the trip. Shang Zhitao wore a simple white dress, and he wore white clothes and pants. He held her hand as they walked slowly forward, turning into a small path to discover a new world.

The rose garden was fragrant. Starting from her feet, a bluestone path was laid, with shimmering hand-painted portraits on both sides of the garden, leading to a sunroom.

It was so beautiful.

Shang Zhitao had never seen such a beautiful place. She loved flowers and had misunderstood him sending flowers to someone in her twenties, feeling jealous. He knew this, and finally created a garden for her.

Luan Nian pointed to the side where an inconspicuous plaque was tied to the fence, which read: “Shang Zhitao’s Time-Space Museum.”

Luan Nian shed his unruliness and very seriously said to her: “Welcome to Shang Zhitao’s Time-Space Museum. I am the senior guide of the museum, Luan Nian.”

“First, let’s go to 2010, which is the first year Ms. Shang Zhitao came to Beijing.”

A large hand-painted image showed Shang Zhitao standing in Beijing at night, waiting for a bus, with brilliant lights around her, but everything seemed unrelated to her. All the paintings were hand-drawn by Luan Nian and then proportionally enlarged. He did not allow any flaws.

“This year, Ms. Shang Zhitao came to work at Lingmei. She was full of curiosity and fear for this strange city, and was in awe of everything. She left early and returned late, dedicating all her time to work. Unfortunately, she met a boss who discouraged her every day. That boss was a bit of a jerk.”

Luan Nian said this, and Shang Zhitao burst into laughter.

“But that boss fell in love with her, though he was unaware of it. His route home was different, but he always went out of his way to ‘accidentally’ meet her in front of the building and send her home.”

From 2010 to 2021, each large hand-painted image showed Shang Zhitao from that year, with the hairstyle and clothing as she had worn them. These large paintings pulled her into memories.

She saw her first project completion at Lingmei, her first promotion, saw her trembling when her car broke down on a mountain road, saw her dragging her suitcase through four cities in a week, sometimes waking up not knowing which city she was in; saw her going alone to the Northwest, enduring loneliness to complete a project; she saw herself by the Back Lake, on the Great Wall, in the campus learning languages with teachers, her thick vocabulary notebooks replaced one after another; she saw two-month-old Luke scratching her bed, wanting to sleep beside her to accompany her through the long lonely nights; also saw her standing under Sun Yuanzhu’s company building in the year he left, crying out in pain at the white cloth; she saw herself singing on stage, waving glow sticks and shouting “I love you” with colleagues; saw the train leaving Beijing, her sending Luan Nian the last message, and then them forgetting each other in the world.

She saw herself climbing onto an overpass, her body swaying in the air once, shaking like a sieve when she came down; saw her drinking at a business dinner, a male client’s hand on her back, her smashing a bottle on his head; she saw herself being followed late at night after leaving a meeting, fleeing in panic, clutching the scissors in her bag.

She saw herself staying up late studying formulas, charging recklessly into new tracks; saw the office grow from just two people to nearly seventy now.

She saw the first photo of Luan Nian and her on Barkhor Street, and finally, Luan Nian standing beside her.

Luan Nian had created this time-space museum. He was meticulous and a perfectionist, personally drawing the design and selecting the materials. He spent countless hours here, demanding that his work have aesthetic appeal under any light changes. He also wanted this museum to withstand wind and sun, to always be here. He demanded that every flower in the garden bloom according to his wishes, because this was the garden he presented to his beloved. He created dreams in this garden. The time-space museum contained Shang Zhitao’s past and would hold her future.

A person like Luan Nian, once determined, would not turn back.

Some people laughed at him for being foolish, asking what use it was to spend so much money building this. What if the money was spent and the person left? The time-space museum would become ruins, all the flowers in the garden would wither, and everything would turn to nothing in the blink of an eye.

Luan Nian said you don’t understand.

If the money runs out, I can earn more, but the person cannot leave. We must be entangled for a lifetime.

Luan Nian had never spoken so much in his life. He talked about Shang Zhitao year after year—the humble, terrified, determined, brave, clever, kind, mischievous, and obedient Shang Zhitao were all in his words, and in his heart. Finally, he led her to the end of the museum.

All the things displayed there were familiar to Shang Zhitao.

Her hand and foot prints from when she was born, her first little outfit, her first pair of small shoes, her first calligraphy, her first award certificate, her first bicycle, her first Walkman, her first school uniform, her first contract with Lingmei, her first note left on Luan Nian’s pillow, her wish list.

Luan Nian placed the key in her hand. “My love, this is the museum I’ve created for you. I hope it can hold all your beautiful dreams throughout your life.”

Shang Zhitao gripped the key tightly, holding Luan Nian’s intentions. Their friends and loved ones had somehow all gathered around them, forming a small circle. Luan Nian didn’t want his proposal to be in public; he didn’t want to put Shang Zhitao on a moral high ground. He only wanted their true friends and closest family members to be present—that was enough.

Luke barked once and ran over. Around his neck hung a small plaque that read: “Marry Dad.” Luan Nian crouched down and took a ring box from the backpack on Luke’s back. After looking at it for a long time, he finally stood up and asked Ms. Shang Zhitao to allow him a place in the time-space museum.

With reddened eyes, he said: “Shang Zhitao, marry me.”

Shang Zhitao’s tears wouldn’t stop flowing. The sunroom was bathed in sunlight, shining on their bodies and faces, bringing them infinitely close to purity in this moment.

She wiped the tears from her face and finally nodded, saying: “Yes.”

Luan Nian embraced her, embracing both the twenty-two-year-old and the thirty-three-year-old versions of her.

They would eventually grow old; time never favors anyone too much.

But they weren’t afraid, because they knew that this time they wouldn’t separate.

Never again.

Their love had endured the winter and welcomed their clear early spring, finally reaching the blazing summer, entering the most passionate time of their lives.

This passion would never fade away.

May you, I, and all of us be well.