Ma Huimin had first sensed something between the two young people on the day the two police officers came to the door.

That morning, Zhou Ya and Fang Long had gone out together, saying they wouldn’t be back for lunch. Ma Huimin, feeling a craving for something savory, walked to the market intending to chop up a plate of pig’s feet.

—Braised pig’s feet with rice was hers and Zhou Ya’s father’s favorite, but in recent years her health hadn’t been great, and Zhou Ya strictly controlled her diet, not letting her eat overly greasy food. She could only occasionally sneak a taste to satisfy her craving.

At the market, a familiar vendor smiled at her, congratulating her that good things were coming for her family.

Puzzled, she asked what he meant, and the vendor said: “Your son brought a little girlfriend around the market — the two of them looked really good together.”

Ma Huimin felt happy at first, thinking this must be the girl her son had mentioned before, the one he “liked.” She hurried to ask the vendor more.

But the more she listened to his description, the more something felt off — the girl’s height, appearance, and style of dress sounded a lot like Fang Long.

She told the vendor that was Zhou Ya’s cousin, but the vendor didn’t believe it, saying the way the two interacted looked exactly like a couple.

That afternoon, the Ren family’s boy came to the door.

…

The tall young man knelt with both knees on the ground, his back held straight.

Even kneeling, his silhouette remained as solid as a rock, all the more imposing against the cold, overcast sky.

Zhou Ya still felt that, at his core, he was somewhat coldhearted.

His love wasn’t abundant; after dividing it among his lover, family, and friends, little was left over, and toward Ma Yulian, who had never properly taken care of Fang Long, he held little goodwill, let alone respect.

It was only that love extends to what it touches — Fang Long didn’t hate her mother, and his own mother still thought of her sister — so he accompanied them to sweep the grave every year.

If Ma Huimin wanted him to kneel, he could kneel, but he didn’t feel he owed Ma Yulian anything.

“…That day I was in my room, actually I couldn’t hear clearly what you two were saying outside.”

Ma Huimin lit six sticks of incense, handing three to Zhou Ya, her voice still calm. “I really feel I’ve gotten old — deaf and half-blind — that I couldn’t see through feelings as obvious as yours.”

The incense sticks, weighing next to nothing, now felt like a thousand-pound boulder, pressing down so heavily that Zhou Ya could barely lift his hand.

He was certain his mother already had some idea, and no longer wanted to keep hiding it from her.

Holding the three incense sticks firmly with both hands, Zhou Ya’s expression turned solemn, not a trace of jest in his eyes.

“Mom,” he addressed Ma Huimin first, then bowed toward the headstone, “my feelings for Fang Long are serious.”

What he hadn’t expected was what Ma Huimin said next: “I know you’re serious.”

Ma Huimin held the remaining three sticks of incense in one hand, and with the other supported herself on her son’s shoulder, meaning to kneel down beside him.

Sensing his mother’s intention, Zhou Ya reached out to help her, but Ma Huimin stopped him: “No need to help, I can do it myself.”

It felt like his nose had been struck hard; Zhou Ya bit down on his back teeth, tensing his shoulders and back even more, so his mother could use him for leverage.

“Zhou Ya, at first I was so angry, I wanted nothing more than to beat you with a cane.”

Ma Huimin knelt down properly, both hands holding the incense, eyes fixed on the headstone. “Setting aside your relationship in name for the moment, Zhou Ya, you’re so many years older than her, your standing was never equal to begin with… honestly, at first I thought you had taken advantage of Fang Long, thinking, you’re supposed to be her older brother, how could you…”

Zhou Ya remained motionless, lips pressed into a line, no explanation, no rebuttal, just listening quietly.

The white smoke rising from the incense was like insects, desperately trying to burrow into his eyes, stinging painfully.

Ma Huimin steadied her breathing, then said slowly: “But then I thought, no, that’s not right — Zhou Ya, you’re not that kind of child.”

Zhou Ya’s whole body trembled violently; his grip tightened so much the incense sticks nearly snapped.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they had already reddened.

His voice, too, had gone hoarse beyond recognition: “Mom, last time I told you I had someone I liked — it was Fang Long.”

Ma Huimin nodded gently: “Mm, having been your mother all these years, I know what kind of person you are better than most people do. You’re not capable of that kind of forceful, deceitful, shameless act, are you?”

Zhou Ya nodded heavily, not caring as the long ash from the incense crumbled onto his hand: “Mm.”

For the next few minutes, Ma Huimin fell silent.

The mother didn’t speak, and Zhou Ya said nothing either.

Not until the incense in both their hands had burned halfway did Ma Huimin speak again: “Zhou Ya, Mom can see that you two are in love with each other right now, but have you considered — there’s another possibility.”

“Mom, say it, I’m listening.”

“Fang Long is still young — what if, someday in the future, she realizes that her fondness for you was only a temporary illusion born from dependence…”

Ma Huimin turned her face aside, tears welling in her eyes, “if she finds someone she likes even more, then what would you do, Zhou Ya…”

These past days, Ma Huimin had thought back over the past several years, and observed the two of them closely for some time; from Zhou Ya’s eyes and gestures, she could tell this child’s feelings ran deep, roots sunk far down.

Flesh from both palm and back — but she still had some selfish concerns of her own.

If the two of them could walk this path together to the end, with love conquering all, that would certainly be a good ending.

But if this relationship turned out to be nothing more than a brief burst of sparks, once the passion faded, could the two of them return to how things were before?

Ma Huimin felt it would be very difficult.

Zhou Ya suddenly tilted his head back, taking a deep breath toward the sky.

He couldn’t bear to see his mother like this, and even less could he bring himself to imagine what a home without Fang Long in it would look like.

The cold, biting air scraped at his throat and nasal passages like a blade; it took him a good while before he could rein in his roiling emotions.

“If she really does find someone she likes more, I’ll let her go.”

His tone remained steady and firm, but the slightly trembling incense in his hand betrayed his true feelings.

Ma Huimin had already expected he would say this, and sighed: “Then what about you? What will you do?”

“While Fang Long chooses to be with me, I’ll love her as her partner.”

Gray-white birds chased each other across the overcast sky; Zhou Ya’s eyes stung watching them. He cleared his aching throat before continuing, “If in the end she chooses someone else, I’ll go back to being her older brother, and give her my fullest support.”

His mother fell silent again; Zhou Ya heard her sniffle twice.

He didn’t know what she’d said, through the white smoke, to her sister on the other side, separated by life and death.

After a moment, Ma Huimin leaned forward to bow, then supported herself on Zhou Ya’s shoulder to try to stand.

Having knelt too long, her knees ached, and her body was unsteady; this time Zhou Ya reached out directly to support her.

Once Ma Huimin stood up, she stretched her legs, then walked forward and planted the incense in the soil beside the headstone: “Child, you’ve chosen a road that won’t be easy to walk.”

“…Yeah, I know.”

“Just like me and your father.” Ma Huimin turned back and smiled at him. “We didn’t get any less gossip from people in town back in our day, either.”

Zhou Ya’s eyes widened slightly, quickly understanding what his mother meant.

Ma Huimin had suffered a great deal because of her infertility.

Ma Huimin said: “The town is only so big, gossip can’t be controlled — even though you and Long Long aren’t blood relatives, in other people’s mouths, they can spin you ten new stories.”

Zhou Ya answered: “I’m not afraid of gossip, but it can’t be allowed to affect you and Fang Long.”

This time, Ma Huimin didn’t offer him much comfort or reassurance, instead shaking her head: “It’ll be hard — there will definitely be some impact, that’s why I said you’ve chosen a road that won’t be easy.”

Zhou Ya fell silent.

Ma Huimin walked over, took the half-burned incense from his hand, and likewise planted it beside the headstone.

Then she turned back to support Zhou Ya: “But you know, the road isn’t only one direction — you two can walk out of here.”

If the small town truly couldn’t accommodate them, then they should leave.

Go to some broader world, just like the birds in the sky right now.

“No! We’re — we’re not going anywhere!”

The sudden voice startled Ma Huimin; she turned around to look, and it was Fang Long.

Fang Long had been sent away earlier, but given her personality, there was no way she’d actually comply.

She’d pretended to walk off, then circled back behind Zhou Ya and his mother, hiding herself behind someone else’s headstone, pressing her palms together saying “forgive the intrusion” while eavesdropping on the mother and son’s conversation not far away.

The cemetery was quiet, so both her aunt’s and Zhou Ya’s voices came through clearly.

Fang Long’s eyes had already gone wet halfway through listening, and when she heard Zhou Ya say that if they ever broke up, he’d go back to being her older brother to take care of her, the tears fell one after another.

Having lacked love as a child, she’d grown up wanting to find love from other people.

When someone confessed to her, she took it as love.

If one person’s “love” wasn’t enough, then two people, three people…

But none of that was real love, no matter how much of it there was — they were just bubbles that burst at the slightest touch.

Was her feeling for Zhou Ya something that had shifted from dependence into liking?

Fang Long herself felt it wasn’t.

But she didn’t bother tracing it back to its source.

Was it the Zhou Ya who made her rice omelets, or the Zhou Ya who chased her around with a feather duster? Was it the Zhou Ya who picked her up and dropped her off at school, or the Zhou Ya who quietly washed her dirty clothes every time without saying anything?

Fang Long couldn’t say for sure.

Maybe it was all of them.

Some feelings take shape gradually, seeds buried in soil for a long time before they finally sprout.

Now the seed had sprouted, had seen the light, and Fang Long had a feeling — it would be the most beautiful flower of all.

“Auntie, are you not going to want us anymore? I’m not afraid of gossip, we’re not leaving… you can’t, you can’t not want us! Waah—”

The moment Fang Long thought about the possibility of having to leave the small town because of this, her mind short-circuited, and heedless of where she was, she cried like a foolish child.

Ma Huimin had meant to tell Fang Long not to cry, but hearing this, she couldn’t hold back either, and tears spilled out.

“What are you standing there like an idiot for?”

Wiping her own tears, she smacked Zhou Ya’s stiff shoulder. “Go bring your little sister back! Crying like that in front of someone else’s grave, what does that look like!”

Only then did Zhou Ya come back to his senses, striding toward the slope connecting to the grave path.

He raised a hand and wiped the corner of his eye with the back of it, finally letting a smile tug at his lips, the stone that had hung in his heart finally settling down.

Fang Long, you little troublemaker… you really are something.

On the way back, the old woman and the young girl gradually calmed down, and Fang Long, as if trying to prove something, chattered on and on to Ma Huimin about her and Zhou Ya’s story.

One moment she was talking about the bald-head incident at the food stall, the next the Jiang Yao incident at the KTV, then jumping back to talk about things from when she was little.

Except for the parts unsuitable for young ears, she told everything else.

Zhou Ya’s ears burned listening, unable to get a word in edgewise.

It took him half the day before he finally muttered, “In the future, don’t go telling people even what color my underwear is.”

Big mouth, couldn’t keep a single secret.

Fang Long smacked the back of his seat, snapping fiercely: “What bad things are you saying about me?”

Zhou Ya handled the steering wheel easily with one hand, the other half-covering his mouth to hide an irrepressible smile: “Wouldn’t dare.”

After lunch, Fang Long went to Ma Huimin’s room, saying she wanted to keep her aunt company for a nap and a chat.

Zhou Ya didn’t stop her — with Fang Long keeping his mother company, he could rest easy.

The van that had gone to the cemetery needed a wash. Zhou Ya picked up a bucket and a towel, planning to wash the car before heading back to the food stall.

The van had been washed once before New Year’s, but after half a month, it had already gathered plenty of dirt and dust.

He pulled out the floor mats and suddenly stopped moving.

In an inconspicuous corner beneath the seat, there was a hair tie.

It was from that night on the second day of the new year, when he and Fang Long had kissed in the car, and it had come loose from her hair.

The hair tie was black, with a small cherry charm on it.

Clearly something a girl would use.

He looped the hair tie around his finger and spun it twice, then abruptly pulled it open and slipped it onto his own left wrist.

The rubber band was a bit tight for him, gripping his wrist snugly.

But Zhou Ya thought it felt just right.

After washing the car, he rode his motorcycle over to the food stall.

A’Feng and the others had already arrived, and seeing him come, greeted him as usual.

Zhou Ya took out his cigarette pack, passing out cigarettes one by one.

A’Feng’s sharp eyes immediately spotted the hair tie hanging on the boss’s wrist: “Hey, Ya-ge, what’s this?”

Others were curious too: “That looks like something a young girl would use.”

Zhou Ya bit down on his cigarette at an angle, and said, “Mm.”

The group exchanged glances, eyes widening more and more.

A’Feng exclaimed with delight: “Whoa! Ya-ge, do you — do you have a girlfriend?!”

Thinking of that person, Zhou Ya’s eyes turned gentle.

He twirled the little cherry charm on the hair tie and said with a smile: “Yeah, I’ve got someone now.”

Main story complete.