Fang Long’s mind went “buzz,” but her reaction was extremely quick.

The bathroom was near the dining room, while the living room’s ceiling light switch was by the shoe cabinet at the door. In between stood a floor-to-ceiling decorative cabinet, which partially blocked the sightline — there was no way to see the bathroom directly from the entryway.

She shut the door behind her, and in two or three steps walked to the living room, greeting Ma Huimin: “Auntie, you’re up?”

Ma Huimin nodded, squinting slightly as she looked around: “Mm, you’re back… Long Long, did you hear any strange sounds just now?”

“Sounds?” Fang Long’s heart pounded like a startled rabbit, but she couldn’t let it show on her face. “What sounds?”

“I can’t quite say, but it felt like someone was talking. It didn’t sound like your voice, and it didn’t sound like Zhou Ya’s voice either.”

“No, there wasn’t… I didn’t hear anything…”

Fang Long swallowed. The “lying with a straight face” skill that should have been quite practiced by now felt a little rusty at this moment.

Ma Huimin shook her head: “Never mind, I guess I dreamed it.”

She glanced at the wall clock, then looked back at Fang Long: “Is your brother the one showering in the bathroom?”

“Yes, yes!” Fang Long pulled the towel hanging around her neck to wipe her damp hair, pretending to naturally make up an excuse. “I just finished showering too, I’m a bit thirsty, came out to pour a glass of water. Auntie, if you need the bathroom you’ll have to wait a bit, Brother just went in.”

She deliberately raised her volume, hoping to signal to Zhou Ya in the bathroom.

“Alright, it’s fine, I’m not in a rush—”

Ma Huimin’s yawn stopped halfway through. She looked at the girl, somewhat curious: “Long Long, ah, I’ve noticed you and your brother seem to be getting along a lot better lately…”

Fang Long sucked in a sharp breath, a sudden chill in her nose.

She laughed dryly twice: “Not really? It’s just that he’s my boss now, paying my salary, I can’t keep bickering and fighting with him like before, or he’ll take it out on me and dock my pay.”

Fang Long didn’t dare say more, afraid the more she said, the more mistakes she’d make. She hurriedly poured a glass of water, said goodnight to Ma Huimin, and returned to her own bedroom.

Ma Huimin yawned twice more, and the bathroom door opened. Zhou Ya was also drying his hair with a towel, and called out to her. Ma Huimin, overcome with drowsiness, didn’t pay attention to details, and after using the bathroom, went back to her room. Zhou Ya watched from the doorway as his mother lay down, then helped close her door.

The hair dryer was roaring in Fang Long’s room. Zhou Ya didn’t knock on her door, but after returning to his own room, sent her a message.

“How is dating you turning into something that feels like an affair?”

Perhaps because he’d had some drinks, perhaps because he’d spent all night texting the little ancestor through the wall, Zhou Ya didn’t get up until nine the next morning.

Ma Huimin was flipping through the newspaper in the living room. Seeing him come out, she pushed up her reading glasses and asked: “Up already? You’re a bit late today, still going to buy groceries?”

Zhou Ya mumbled: “Mm… I’ll go after a bowl of porridge.”

After washing up, Zhou Ya went into the kitchen to scoop congee. Too lazy to bring it to the table, he dumped the pickled sides straight into the bowl, stirred with his chopsticks, and leaned against the counter eating large mouthfuls.

When he had just a few bites left, Fang Long squeezed into the kitchen, saying quietly: “Ah, you’re almost done eating already?”

Zhou Ya was startled for a moment, mumbling with his mouth full: “Why are you up so early?”

Fang Long glanced around furtively: “Didn’t you say you’re going to the supermarket?”

Zhou Ya’s arms were long; he hooked one around her arm and pulled her close, lowering his head to kiss her: “Come with me to the market first? Then we’ll go there.”

Fang Long quickly raised her hand to block his mouth: “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!”

“I like it stinky too,” Zhou Ya said with a smile, his slightly stubbled chin pushing her hand away as he kissed her lips lightly.

Fang Long’s heart thumped, but she still pretended to gag: “Ugh, it tastes like fermented tofu.”

Zhou Ya patted her bottom: “Well, you’ll just have to bear it.”

Outside the kitchen, Auntie called: “Long Long, are you up?”

“Yes!” Fang Long answered loudly, standing on tiptoe to bite Zhou Ya’s chin, then slipped out of the kitchen.

Zhou Ya shook his head with a smile, finished the rest of his congee, and took a new bowl to scoop congee for Fang Long. Fang Long finished breakfast quickly, and left the house together with Zhou Ya. As they changed shoes on the way out, Auntie seemed a bit surprised, joking that the sun must have risen from the west today.

The two of them went to the wet market first. Zhou Ya originally wanted Fang Long to wait in the car — he was used to coming here every day, but the little ancestor might not be used to the smells and mess here. But Fang Long wouldn’t have it, trotting along behind him to help buy ingredients. She rarely came to the market, and few stall owners recognized her.

Someone teased Zhou Ya, saying he’d gotten himself a pretty young girlfriend and was only now bringing her out to meet the neighborhood — wasn’t that a bit inconsiderate?

Zhou Ya just smiled, not continuing the topic, but not denying it either.

Fang Long helped carry two of the lighter bags, avoiding puddles on the ground as they walked toward the van: “Why don’t you explain things to them?”

Zhou Ya was cradling a heavy foam box: “Explain what?”

“Um… just…” Her eyes darted around in circles, but in the end Fang Long couldn’t articulate what she meant.

Zhou Ya wasn’t denying it now, but if the vendors found out about their relationship from someone else in the future, would that cause trouble for Zhou Ya? But if Zhou Ya really did deny to the vendors that she was his girlfriend, Fang Long thought, she might say it didn’t matter, but in her heart she’d probably feel awkward about it either way. A no-win situation.

As if sensing what she was thinking, Zhou Ya shifted the foam box he’d been holding with both hands up onto his left shoulder, freeing his right hand to take the bag from her. Leaning close to her ear, he nuzzled her earlobe affectionately, teasing: “Alright, your brain’s not that sharp to begin with, don’t think about such complicated things, you’ll burn it out.”

Fang Long glared at him fiercely, gripping tighter to the bag in her other hand, refusing to let him carry everything alone.

After dropping the ingredients back at the stall, Zhou Ya took Fang Long to the new house. The residential complex had been handed over for several years now, with a high occupancy rate. In the small garden downstairs, many elderly people were out walking children and sunbathing, kids in brand-new clothes running past Fang Long giggling. She glanced at them, then caught up with Zhou Ya’s pace.

Zhou Ya had originally planned to move out after the Spring Festival, so the house had been cleaned early. Bright windows, gleaming floor tiles, brand-new men’s and women’s slippers in the shoe cabinet, plain-colored bedding on the double bed in the master bedroom, and a full set of pots and pans in the kitchen.

“Take a look at what’s still missing, we’ll buy it at the supermarket later.”

Close to noon, Zhou Ya brought some beef tendon and beef meatballs, planning to cook a simple rice noodle soup for lunch there. He took out two soup pots, one for boiling water, one for heating broth, put the meatballs into cold water in the pot, set up a strainer, and planned to add the meat once the water boiled.

After a good while without hearing Fang Long’s chattering, Zhou Ya found it strange, walked out to check, and found the living room empty. He headed toward the bedroom, but found Fang Long in the first room off the hallway. This room didn’t have a bed yet — white floor tiles, pink walls, a flower-shaped ceiling light, the wardrobe and desk against the wall painted a fresh white.

Judging from the color and decor style, it was clearly meant for a young girl.

Fang Long sat on the bay window sill, gazing out the window, unusually quiet.

Zhou Ya walked over: “What are you daydreaming about?”

Fang Long turned back, blinked, and asked directly: “Was this room originally set aside for me?”

The year before last, when the house was being renovated, Zhou Ya had mentioned in passing that he wanted to reserve rooms for her and Auntie in the new place, asking what decor style and colors they liked. But at the time Fang Long had felt that once Zhou Ya had his own family, her continuing to live in his house as his “cousin” would surely make his wife unhappy, so she’d told Zhou Ya not to bother reserving a room for her. She could keep living with Auntie in the old house — if Auntie went to the new place to help look after his children, then Fang Long living alone in the old house would be fine too. She’d even once thought that if one day Auntie and Zhou Ya decided to sell the old house, she’d go find another place to live — worst case, find a factory job that provided room and board, preferably local, so she could stay close to Auntie and look after her if anything came up; if that wasn’t possible, she’d look elsewhere…

Fang Long had thought of many possibilities, but never expected that in the end, Zhou Ya would still leave a room for her in the new house.

“Mm,” Zhou Ya said, concise as ever.

He sat down at the bay window too, patting his thigh twice: “Come here.”

Fang Long pouted, sitting face-to-face on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, muttering quietly: “This makes it seem like I’m a burden brought into the family.”

“Whether you’re a burden or not, I don’t know, but this little mouth of yours could hang a whole jar of vinegar off it,” Zhou Ya said, smiling as he kissed her.

In just a few short days, the number of times he’d smiled was probably about to catch up with the total from the past thirty years. However cold the iceberg, it can still meet its own sun.

“Zhou Ya, you’re really so foolish, who’s going to want to marry you like this? No girl wants to live with his ‘cousin’…”

The more Fang Long thought about it, the more her heart ached. He was just this kind of mute — always guarding her from behind. Afraid she’d be cheated by a taxi driver, afraid she’d run into danger walking alone at night, afraid something had happened if her phone was off. Afraid she’d go hungry, afraid she’d be cold, afraid she’d have no roof over her head. Appearing without a sound, leaving without a sound. The care he could put into words was just a small ripple; the things he couldn’t say were the surging sea beneath.

“Mm, no girl wants to marry me.”

Zhou Ya kissed her lips, as if mocking himself. “What to do — you said before I’d end up a lonely old man, and you were right.”

The man before her — when he wasn’t smiling, his brows were cold and stern; when he smiled, the warmth in his eyes could melt a thousand piles of snow off his brow.

“Hey, if really no one wants you, then I suppose I’ll reluctantly take pity and look after you, old man.” Fang Long lowered her head and bit the tip of his nose, smiling brightly. “Zhou Ya, on my mother’s death anniversary, come with me to ‘Yong’an.'”

Yong’an was the cemetery on the outskirts of town. After Fang Long’s mother passed away, they’d brought her back here to be laid to rest.

Zhou Ya raised an eyebrow: “Haven’t I gone with you every year?”

“But now your status is different.” Fang Long extended a finger, brushing it across his thick black brows, smiling with crinkled eyes. “This year, you’re my boyfriend.”