The Early Spring - Chapter 134

Chapter 134 - Early Spring, Clear Skies

Shang Zhitao finally learned the crazy plan Luan Nian had been brewing on the morning of their departure.

A border trip spanning 13,000 kilometers, marking every checkpoint along the way before finally returning to Beijing.

"So we're going to be on the road for thirty whole days!" Shang Zhitao exclaimed in sudden excitement from the passenger seat. Luke let out a woof, as if asking, What? I'm going on a journey of over ten thousand kilometers?

"I originally wanted to take you to chase the northern lights, but it's hard for us to travel abroad right now. So," Luan Nian shrugged, "let's hit the road!"

"I like the northern lights, but I like being with you even more. So, let me hit the road with you!"

"Let's go!"

They set off into the morning glow. The expressways in the northern countryside were free of traffic. It was early June, early summer—a time when all living things were thriving, filling their vision with vibrant green. Shang Zhitao was full of anticipation for the journey. She suddenly felt immense gratitude toward Luan Nian for asking her to clear her schedule to join his wild travel plan. After all, though she had passed the age of acting on a whim, she was now together with the willful Luan Nian.

"Then why don't we drive along the entire national border?" Shang Zhitao asked him. "I can delegate my work! Let's travel for three months! Throw caution to the wind!"

"There is plenty of time ahead." Luan Nian turned his head to glance at her. "If you're willing, we can do a trip like this every year. I'll accompany you to the very end."

Shang Zhitao loved it when Luan Nian used the phrase "accompany you to the very end," spoken with his usual domineering aura and sharpness, along with a sexiness he himself was utterly unaware of.

"But I only packed my undergarments—I didn't bring anything else, because I had no idea where we were going."

"Everything is in the trunk."

"All of my clothes?" Shang Zhitao asked in confusion.

"Yes." Luan Nian had handpicked her travel gear according to his own tastes. He was confident his eye for style would satisfy her—and even if it didn't, she would just have to hold her tongue.

Dr. Liang was always worried he would mistreat Shang Zhitao. Before they left, she had cautioned him repeatedly: "Listen to the girl's opinions more often, and don't talk like a stubborn mule."

"If Taotao gets tired or sick, you must take good care of her. Bring her back safe and sound, just as you took her out."

"Also, make sure you use protection. Pre-marital pregnancy is out of the question."

Luan Nian felt Dr. Liang doted on Shang Zhitao a bit too much, which struck him as quite novel. He teased Dr. Liang, "I'm your actual son, you know."

Dr. Liang shook her head. "Your personality is far too awful. Taotao is the one who is physically and mentally healthy."

As their car sped along the expressway, Luan Nian handed Shang Zhitao a hand-drawn route map. It was a map of China he had drawn himself, with circles drawn around the locations they planned to visit, though no text had been written yet. It turned out Luan Nian was actually quite skilled at drawing.

"You have nice handwriting. When we stop at the service area later to rest, you can write the details."

"What should I write?"

"Which day of the trip, the date, and the corresponding location."

"So that means we'll have a travel map created through our joint effort?"

"Yes."

"Can we do this every time in the future?"

"We can."

Had Luan Nian taken some kind of romance class? Shang Zhitao found it genuinely astonishing—he had never been such a gentle or romantic person before. In the past, if she had tried to do something like this, he would have mocked her for it.

Yet this idea was truly fantastic: he could draw, she could write, and together they would complete a travel map through their combined efforts.

When they arrived at the service area, the two walked inside and found a table. Luan Nian pulled out a box of colored gel pens. "Write. The dates start from today, and each mark represents one day."

Shang Zhitao wrote meticulously, finally learning their entire travel itinerary. She couldn't help but wonder how long Luan Nian had spent researching it—he must have memorized the map of their motherland inside and out.

From Mohe at the northernmost tip of the nation to Manzhouli on the Sino-Russian border; from the Ergun River, sacred to the Mongols, to Arxan in the Greater Khingan Range; from the Nine Bends of Xilin to the Populus euphratica forests of Ejin; from the dreamlike Koktokay to Kanas; from Alashankou to the Narat Grassland; from exotic Kashgar to uninhabited Ali; from sacred mountains and holy lakes to Everest Base Camp; from Shigatse to the holy pilgrimage destination of Lhasa; and from Lhasa to Nyingchi, the city of sunlight. This was the route Luan Nian had chosen—crossing mountains and seas to finally merge into the gates of time.

Along this journey, they would pass through mountain grasslands, cross uninhabited zones, snow-capped mountains, and lakes. Beyond the end of the road lay yet another road; on the other side of the mountain stood yet another peak.

To Shang Zhitao, this journey was a grand feat in her life.

As Shang Zhitao wrote down the dates, she asked Luan Nian, "Have you been planning this for a very long time?"

"Otherwise?" Luan Nian chuckled, amused by her foolish question. Of course he had been planning it for a long time.

"Then why didn't you let me help plan it?" 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 gifting you.

The map was truly gorgeous. Once Shang Zhitao finished writing, she picked it up to look at it, completely unable to put it down. She genuinely wanted to show it off. "Can you take a picture of me? I'll hold the map, you take the photo, and I'll post it on my Moments."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I drew it. You have to take the picture with me."

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

Shang Zhitao posted it to her Moments: With Mr. Luan, traversing rivers and mountains.

Luan Nian took a glance at it and posted a Moment of his own—or more accurately, he copied Shang Zhitao's caption: With Ms. Shang, traversing rivers and mountains.

Everyone knew what this post signified.

It meant they had completely gone public in front of everyone. From this point on, there was no turning back. Neither of them wanted a way back anyway—how wonderful this was.

To love and be loved out in the open, with complete honesty.

Jiang Lan sent Luan Nian a message: Settled down for good?

For good, Luan Nian replied.

Then I'm going to die of heartbreak—to think I won't get to sleep with you in this lifetime. Jiang Lan was only joking; the two of them had become good friends, and Jiang Lan spoke without any taboos.

Not in the next lifetime either. Shang Zhitao has already stamped her seal on me.

Luan Nian stubbornly believed that he and Shang Zhitao would still have a next lifetime, and a lifetime after that. He felt that as a person who was lazy by nature, if he were to switch partners, he would definitely find it uncomfortable. It was better to make a pact with her for every single incarnation.

Luan Nian shuddered slightly, feeling that he was being entirely too cheesy.

Chen Kuannian tossed the photo into their group chat and joked: It's like I can already foresee 30 days of non-stop, explosive passion for President Luan.

Hardly. After all, he's not young anymore. His body might not be able to handle it, Tan Mian remarked sarcastically.

Luan Nian merely tagged Chen Kuannian: Remember to supervise the construction site every day.

If I don't go, I'm a bastard, alright?

Luan Nian felt at ease.

His friends might talk crudely on ordinary days, but they were reliable when it came to getting things done. Just as he was about to put his phone away, he saw Zang Yao's reply. She wrote: Congratulations on holding your beloved's hand halfway through life.

Then he looked at Lumi's message: Oh my! This girl looks so familiar—isn't this my Taotao? Oh, so Luke was secretly pining for my Taotao all along!

Out of her mind, Luan Nian cursed Lumi silently in his heart.

They put away their phones, looked at each other, and then looked down at Luke. "Officially setting off?"

"Officially setting off!"

Luke let out a woof, as if saying: Let's go!

Luan Nian put on a pair of sunglasses and tossed another pair to Shang Zhitao. Only after she put them on did she realize they were a matching couple's set. A warm sweetness bloomed in her heart, yet she teased him anyway: "Who was it that used to say using matching couple's items was the ultimate lack of class?"

Luan Nian took off his sunglasses, gave her a cool side-eye, and put them back on, refusing to admit he had ever said such a thing.

"So are there any other surprises on this trip?"

"Every single day," Luan Nian said.

He had poured all his heart and soul into this trip, solely so that when Shang Zhitao recalled it in the future, she would feel blessed, and to allow her to win the day whenever comparisons arose—even though he knew Shang Zhitao wasn't one for comparison.

The two of them sped toward Mohe.

In the northern reaches, the sky was high and the land vast. The black soil stretched out endlessly to meet the distant mountain ranges. Grand mountains and mighty rivers stirred deep emotions in the heart. Shang Zhitao sat in the passenger seat eating snacks. Luan Nian scoffed at those snacks: "How old are you, still eating these things?"

"What kind of stuff is that? It's all gutter oil."

"Eating one bag of potato chips will take three hours of swimming to burn off."

"You even eat garbage like that?"

Shang Zhitao shook her head side to side: "I'm not listening, I'm not listening, it's just an old turtle chanting scriptures."

Then she tore open a piece of spicy gluten strip, arranged it neatly, and held it out to him. Luan Nian refused to eat it, so she glared at him: "Hurry up!"

He could only reluctantly eat it. The taste was surprisingly good. Seeing his expression, Shang Zhitao knew he probably enjoyed it, so she prepared another small piece and carefully placed it into his mouth. She knew Luan Nian well—he hated getting food on his lips and considered it messy. He was just that particular about things.

"Is it alright?" Shang Zhitao asked him.

"Passable."

Shang Zhitao curled her lip. Old man, stubborn as a mule!

"What are we eating when we arrive in Mohe today?" Shang Zhitao asked. "How nice would it be if we could go to Yanbian? It's like a mini Korea, and the food there is delicious."

"We can go to Yanbian anytime. Take a look now at what you want to eat tonight."

"Roger that!"

Shang Zhitao pulled out her phone to search for places to eat. Seeing the screen filled with iron-pot stews, she put her phone away. "Iron-pot stew."

"Okay. Goose?"

"Yes!"

Discussing and agreeing, harmonious and peaceful.

Dr. Liang called to ask them, "Have you set off?"

"Mm."

"Alright, stay safe. Give Taotao my regards."

"She's right next to me."

"Dr. Liang, I'm right here. Thank you!"

On the other end of the line, Dr. Liang chuckled before saying after a moment, "Luan Nian mentioned before that you were nourishing your health. I found a specialist for you. When you have time, come to Beijing and I'll take you to see them. But no matter how you condition your body, you must ensure you get enough rest, understand?"

"Alright, thank you, Dr. Liang."

"Don't thank me. Take advantage of the vacation to have a good time and be happy. If Luan Nian bullies you, you bully him right back."

Shang Zhitao burst out laughing. "Okay! I'll bully him right now!"

Luan Nian scoffed, hung up the phone, turned his head, and gave Shang Zhitao a mock-ferocious look: "Try bullying me and see what happens."

"Hmph!"

Shang Zhitao only realized what Luan Nian meant by "surprises every day" when she opened her eyes the next morning. Every day, the outfits for the two of them were carefully selected. Once she put hers on and looked at Luan Nian, she realized they were wearing matching couple's attire. They weren't the common, mass-produced kind found on the market, but custom pieces crafted from the exact same bolt of fabric, with subtle design choices at the cuffs, collar, or stitching—unobtrusive, yet genuinely striking.

Standing in front of the mirror and looking at each other, they truly looked like a young married couple. Shang Zhitao loved it beyond measure: "You actually went and had custom clothes made in secret! And my piece fits so perfectly! How did you know my measurements?"

"I've felt you up so many times..." Luan Nian swept a glance over her. He was intimately familiar with her measurements—they had been personally gauged by his own mouth and hands.

"How can you be such a rogue!"

Luan Nian paid no attention to her teasing and led her back onto the road.

Along the border highway from Manzhouli to Ergun, the early summer grass was beginning to grow wildly, changing with each passing day. Luan Nian parked the car in front of a border marker and said to Shang Zhitao, "Let's take a commemorative photo." The deeply hidden romanticism in Luan Nian's bones was acting up again; gathering photos of border stones and markers into an album would give them many stories to tell in the future. What's more, the custom clothing he had ordered carried a vibe reminiscent of a couple's travel photoshoot—a 15,000-kilometer travel shoot was grand enough to be truly spectacular.

For just a small border marker, they set up the tripod and took photos for a long time. Luke played by himself until he was stopped by a wire fence. Looking through the fence, he barked at a foreign hunting dog: Come over here! I'm not afraid of you!

The hunting dogs on the grassland were all fierce. It growled low and took a step forward. Luke lowered his tail and trotted right back to Luan Nian's side: Woof! It's bullying me!

"Didn't you provoke it first? Serves you right." Luan Nian ignored him, sitting in the car to browse through the photos. The backdrop was vast enough, and since both of them were attractive, the pictures turned out exceptionally well.

"Will we have lots and lots of photos together from now on?" Shang Zhitao asked him.

"Lots and lots."

Shang Zhitao felt a faint sting in her nose. She sometimes felt regret that they barely had any photos together. Luan Nian felt even greater regret: he had rewatched the drone video of them countlessly over the years. For two people who had been together for so long, only that single video and set of photos remained to prove the years they had spent side by side. It was far too flimsy.

"I've prepared a surprise for you too," Shang Zhitao said.

"What surprise?"

"I think you can look forward to it."

Luan Nian's appetite was thoroughly teased by Shang Zhitao. Halfway through their journey, one night in Kashgar, Shang Zhitao suddenly wanted to eat fruit. The fruit in the Old Town of Kashgar was naturally delicious; aside from the sun setting late, there was hardly any flaw to be picked. Luan Nian went out for half an hour. When he returned and pushed open the hotel room door, he saw the lights inside were off. He called out, "Shang Zhitao?"

"Close the door," Shang Zhitao said.

Luan Nian closed the door. A dim nightlight lit up inside the room, and a dance pole stretched between the floor and the ceiling.

Shang Zhitao walked out from the side, stepping up to Luan Nian. She pressed one hand against his chest and gripped his collar with the other, gesturing for him to follow her.

Luan Nian's gaze fell upon her attire: between her black strapless top and shorts was a snow-white waist, and her high socks reached just past her knees.

Shang Zhitao was truly alluring.

Luan Nian wanted a surprise like this every single day. A predatory glint gradually pooled in his eyes. Before he could make a move, Shang Zhitao pushed him down onto the bed, her lips brushing against his: "The following performance is to reward you for your hard work on the road." She mimicked his tone: "Just take it!"

When she had accompanied Shang Zhishu to learn pole dancing, it had merely been an impulse. Pole dancing wasn't easy to learn, but fortunately, her body was flexible, though she had still ended up bruised black and blue. At the time, she thought she was crazy—why learn this? Only now, seeing the look in Luan Nian's eyes, did she understand that learning this was quite useful. After all, what man was truly a refined gentleman?

She hadn't learned it for Luan Nian's sake; the person she truly wanted to please was herself. Every woman probably experienced moments of rebellion like this—rejecting conventional notions, feeling an infinite sense of freedom while spinning on the pole. At this moment, she loved the look in Luan Nian's eyes. When a couple was together, they couldn't act noble and aloof every day; there had to be moments like this, belonging entirely to their own shared indulgence and loss of control.

The music was intimate, and the air was thick with passion as Shang Zhitao took to the pole. She spun through the air, her long hair flying with her movements. Her eyes met Luan Nian's, finding a fire glowing in his gaze that seemed ready to burn her to ashes.

As she arched her back against the pole, she saw Luan Nian stand up, slowly shedding his clothes. His eyes remained fixed on her the entire time before locking onto hers as he walked slowly toward her. Shang Zhitao flipped upright, but Luan Nian's hand landed on her waist, pulling her away from the pole in one swift motion. She cried out in protest: "I haven't finished dancing..."

Luan Nian tossed her onto the bed and pressed his entire body down over hers: "Finish dancing tomorrow."

A raging fire blazed inside him, and Shang Zhitao, the arsonist, couldn't escape responsibility. He was going to burn her bit by bit—no, he couldn't do it bit by bit, he had to do it immediately. Eager and slightly rough, Luan Nian trapped Shang Zhitao within his world, burning in this inferno alongside him.

Shang Zhitao refused to yield just like that. Pressing against his lips, she said, "Today, I'm in charge." exerting her strength, she pushed him over, flipped on top of him, and pressed down his raised head: "Take it slow."

Night fell late in Kashgar and dawn came late; there was still plenty of time, so what was the rush?

The battle stretched on for a long time, neither side showing any intention of stopping. Perhaps Shang Zhitao's performance was simply too unforgettable—whenever Luan Nian closed his eyes, all he could see was her dancing on the pole. She had always been like this, possessing an innocent and obedient face, yet letting loose completely when no one else was around. Enchanting and perceptive—the absolute finest in the mortal world.

When it finally came to an end, true midnight had arrived in Kashgar. Luan Nian pointed at the pole: "How did you make that appear?"

"It's portable—can be assembled and disassembled anytime. Fits right into a small case, ready to go."

"How come I didn't see it?"

"Hidden under the gear you prepared..." Shang Zhitao said with a trace of smugness. "Otherwise, how could it be a surprise for you?"

"I like this stubborn drive of yours. Keep up the good work." Luan Nian kissed her cheek and held her close as they fell asleep.

As their car approached Lhasa, Shang Zhitao's mind was filled with memories of that year. They had set off on a whim, during the prime of their lives. Later on, once or twice, she had felt the urge to visit Tibet again by herself, but in the end, various matters prevented it from happening.

She had never imagined she would return to Tibet, and still with Luan Nian.

Having experienced so many years along this path, counting carefully, there weren't many decades in a person's life.

Shang Zhitao was overcome with mixed emotions. When the car drove into Lhasa, her eyes finally welled up with tears.

"Luan Nian, can you pull over for a moment?"

Luan Nian parked the car, and neither of them spoke. Silence filled the vehicle. Shang Zhitao let out a soft sob, took off her sunglasses, and wiped her tears.

She felt she had grown strong enough, and she rarely cried over the past few years. She pursued the value of life, ignoring all the pain she had suffered along the way, comforting herself countless times that it was merely a necessary path everyone had to walk.

Yet she had harbored regrets, because she had loved someone in the best years of her life, only to suffer from unrequited love.

Shang Zhitao looked at Lhasa before her eyes. The Potala Palace stood not far away. Back then, she had made a pilgrimage here, praying that the two of them would live long lives, and if possible, walk a little further together along life's journey. She hadn't even dared to hope for eternity.

Luan Nian held her hand and finally took off his sunglasses. He wiped the corner of his eyes with his fingertips, his eyes bloodshot.

If time could turn back, Luan Nian knew he would do much better than he had back then. He wouldn't have wasted a decade, drifting aimlessly from his twenties into his thirties. He felt deeply apologetic that when Shang Zhitao met him, he had been so awful.

They walked along Barkhor Street, bringing Luke with them. That photography studio was still there. Standing across from it, they saw their photo still hanging inside. Luan Nian had taken one copy back then, but the clever owner had given him the negative while keeping a copy for himself, thinking they would never return.

In the photo, their smiles were bright, capturing the finest years of their lives, their faces clear and bright under the Tibetan sunlight.

The studio owner came out to see off some customers. Spotting the two standing across the street, he froze for a moment before extending his hands in welcome. He even called out to passersby: "Look, quick! My models are here! They're still together!"

The studio owner had seen countless people come and go, meeting and parting ways. When people came to take photos, they would always point to that photograph and say, "We want to take one like this."

During makeup, they would always ask, "Are these two models?"

"No. Just a young couple traveling here."

"Are they still together? Did they get married? Do they have kids?"

The owner never knew how to answer: "Maybe."

This time, they still asked the owner to take their photo. When the owner asked what they wanted to wear, Luan Nian said, "Just what we're wearing right now."

Among the twenty-some sets of custom travel clothing he had ordered, the set for the day they reached Lhasa was closest to formal attire. He went to the car and retrieved a custom white bridal veil crowned with osmanthus flower buds, resembling a tree sprouting buds in early spring. Under Shang Zhitao's warm gaze, he personally draped it over her, whispering softly, "Shall we keep the spring light here in Lhasa?"

"Yes."

The moment the owner pressed the shutter, Shang Zhitao and Luan Nian looked at each other—a single glance filled with deep, lasting affection.

This time, the owner didn't charge them any money, only asking, "Can I place this photo side-by-side with that old one?"

"Yes."

"Then when you have a child, can you come back again? Right here, I'll take another set for your family of three—complete and full."

"Alright."

From then on, whenever people stood amidst the bustling crowds on Barkhor Street and looked toward this studio, they would see the story of two people, remembered forever by time.

When their journey came to an end, on the night before they returned to Beijing, Shang Zhitao received a call from Lin Chun'er.

"Taotao, is Luan Nian next to you?"

"He went outside to answer a call and said it would take a long time. I don't know what he's up to, acting all secretive."

"That's good." Lin Chun'er smiled and said, "Taotao, I want to send you a video. Watch it by yourself, and don't let Luan Nian know you've seen it, okay?"

"Okay."

Their friends all felt that it hadn't been easy for the two of them over all these years. They worried that Shang Zhitao's heart hadn't fully thawed yet, afraid Luan Nian's efforts would end up in vain. Thus, Lin Chun'er came up with this idea, saying: "What use is that video sitting on your phones other than to mock Luan Nian? It should be sent to the person who needs to see it most."

Shang Zhitao opened the video, and the first thing she saw was the northern lights.

During the New Year of the year they took their trip to Lhasa, Luan Nian had said to her, "Let's watch the northern lights together next year, shall we?"

Later, they parted ways, and Luan Nian went to chase the northern lights with his friends.

The northern lights were truly beautiful, ethereal between heaven and earth. Shang Zhitao heard several men talking, accompanied by the clinking of glass cups. The camera turned, and she saw Luan Nian.

He was making a phone call.

The person filming asked him, "Who are you calling?"

Luan Nian seemed to have drunk too much, his eyes and nose flushed red, his speech slurred: "Calling the person I love."

"I want to share the northern lights with her."

Shang Zhitao heard Luan Nian mumble her name: "Shang Zhitao, I came to see the northern lights. They're so beautiful."

"It's very cold here, extremely cold—much colder than Harbin."

"The northern lights are so beautiful. We agreed to come watch them together, but you disappeared. It doesn't matter, I came to see them. I'm telling you about it now..."

As Luan Nian spoke, he burst into tears, his nose running. He wiped it away with his hand, devoid of his usual dignity and posture: "The northern lights are so beautiful, too beautiful to be real. Ethereal and vast, like a dream."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for so many things. I hope you live well. In your lifetime, you must come chase the northern lights at least once."

"I miss you. I miss you so much. I'm not drunk—I miss you terribly."

"I love you. I hope you know that."

"I also hope you know that back in those years, I gave you my true heart."

"I know I'm terrible, I don't deserve to be loved. I'm prepared to grow old alone. I hope you marry an exceptionally good person, surrounded by children, happy for the rest of your life."

"You must come see the northern lights once. They're so beautiful. Truly."

He babbled endlessly, making call after call, repeating phrase after phrase. At the end of the video, someone snatched his phone away, and a automated voice from the speaker said: The number you have dialed is a dead number.

Tears streamed down Shang Zhitao's face. When she left him back then, she had experienced heart-wrenching pain. Countless nights she sat by the window watching the bitter winds of Harbin knock down dead branches, missing him time and time again. At an age when both of them believed they were unworthy of love, they had drawn close to love. Yet they had missed it.

"Taotao, what I want to tell you is that after parting, meeting again is already rare. All of us hope the two of you can grow old together," Lin Chun'er sent her a message. Shang Zhitao replied to her: "Okay."

Luan Nian drove the car all the way up the mountain. Shang Zhitao asked him, "Aren't we going home to drop off the luggage?"

"We haven't reached the end of the journey yet."

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

Green trees and wild grass along the mountain swayed in the summer breeze, sunlight dappling their faces as floating shadows flickered past, like time weaving a dream.

Luan Nian stopped the car: "Let me lead the way."

On this day, they wore the final set of custom clothes Luan Nian had made for this trip—Shang Zhitao wore a simple white dress, while he wore a white shirt and white trousers. Holding her hand, he walked forward slowly, turning down a small path to reveal a whole new world.

A rose garden overflowed with fragrance, a flagstone path paved beneath her feet. On both sides of the garden were radiant hand-drawn portraits, leading straight ahead to finally converge at a sunroom.

It was breathtakingly beautiful.

Shang Zhitao had never seen such a gorgeous place. She loved flowers; she had once misunderstood that he was giving flowers to someone else, feeling jealous in her twenties. Knowing this, he had finally built a garden for her.

Luan Nian pointed to the side, where a subtle plaque was tied to the fence, reading: Shang Zhitao's Museum of Time.

Luan Nian set aside his usual air of unruliness and said to her with absolute sincerity, "Welcome to Shang Zhitao's Museum of Time. I am the museum's senior guide, Luan Nian."

"First, let us step into the year 2010—the year Ms. Shang Zhitao first came to Beijing."

On the giant hand-drawn portrait, Shang Zhitao stood waiting for a ride in Beijing late at night. The surrounding lights were brilliant, yet none of it seemed to have anything to do with her. All the paintings were drawn by Luan Nian himself, then enlarged to scale; he permitted no flaws whatsoever.

"In this year, Ms. Shang Zhitao came to work at Lingmei. She was full of curiosity and fear toward this unfamiliar city, holding everything in reverence. She left early and returned late, dedicating all her time to work. Regrettably, she encountered a boss who tried to persuade her to resign every single day. That boss was a bit of a jerk."

When Luan Nian reached this point, Shang Zhitao burst out laughing.

"But that boss fell in love with her, though he didn't realize it himself. His route home after work was clearly different, yet he insisted on detouring to the front of the building to run into her and drive her home."

From 2010 to 2021, every single hand-drawn portrait depicted Shang Zhitao as she was in that given year—her hairstyle and clothing matching her appearance back then. These giant portraits dragged her deep into memory.

She saw the conclusion of her first project at Lingmei, her first promotion; she saw her trembling when her car broke down on the mountain road; she saw herself dragging a suitcase through four cities in a single week, sometimes opening her eyes unable to remember which city she was in; she saw herself traveling alone to the Northwest, enduring loneliness there to complete a project; she saw herself learning languages with teachers by Houhai, on the Great Wall, and on campus, replacing thick vocabulary notebooks one after another; she saw two-month-old Luke scratching at her bed, wanting to sleep by her side to accompany her through the quiet, lonely nights; she saw the year Sun Yuanzhu passed away, standing beneath his company building, sobbing hysterically in front of that white cloth; she saw herself standing on stage singing, waving glow sticks with her colleagues below as they shouted "I love you" at the top of their lungs; she saw the train departing Beijing as she sent Luan Nian her final message, forgetting each other in the wider world.

She saw herself climbing onto the elevated road, her body swaying once in the air, trembling like leaf when she came down; she saw herself drinking at a dinner table, a male client's hand resting on her back, picking up a wine bottle and smashing it over his head; she saw herself being stalked late at night after leaving a venue, fleeing in panic while clutching the scissors in her bag.

She saw herself staying up late researching formulas, charging recklessly down new tracks; she saw her office grow from just two people to nearly seventy today.

She saw her first photo with Luan Nian on Barkhor Street, and finally, Luan Nian standing by her side.

Luan Nian had built this Museum of Time. Nitpicking and perfectionistic, he had drawn the blueprints and selected the building materials himself, spending countless hours immersed here, demanding that his work retain its beauty under any shift in light or mood. He also required this museum to withstand wind and sun, remaining here no matter what. He demanded that every flower in the garden bloom according to his wishes, because this was the garden he presented to his beloved. He wove dreams in this garden—the Museum of Time held Shang Zhitao's past, and it would hold her future as well.

A man like Luan Nian was headstrong; he would never look back.

Some had mocked him as foolish, asking what was the point of spending a fortune to build this—if the money ran out and she left, the Museum of Time would become a ruin, the flowers in the garden would all wither, and everything would vanish in the blink of an eye.

Luan Nian had said, You don't understand.

If the money runs out, I can earn it back, but she cannot leave—we are destined to be entangled for a lifetime.

Luan Nian had never spoken so many words in his entire life. He recounted year after year of Shang Zhitao's life: the humble, frightened, resolute, brave, intelligent, kind, playful, and obedient versions of Shang Zhitao were all in his words and in his heart. Finally, he led her to the end of the museum.

Shang Zhitao recognized every single item placed inside.

Her baby handprints and footprints from birth, her first little piece of clothing, her first pair of tiny shoes, her first calligraphy attempt, her first award certificate, her first bicycle, her first Walkman, her first school uniform, her first contract signed at Lingmei, the first note she left on Luan Nian's pillow, her bucket list.

Luan Nian placed the key into her hand. "My love, this is the museum I built for you. I hope it can hold all the beautiful dreams of your life."

Shang Zhitao clutched the key tightly, gripping Luan Nian's heart and devotion. Unbeknownst to them, their friends and closest relatives were all standing around them, forming a small circle. Luan Nian hadn't wanted his proposal to happen in a public place—he didn't want to place Shang Zhitao on a moral high ground. He only wanted their genuine friends and closest family to be present; that was enough.

Luke ran over with a woof, a small plaque hanging around his neck that read: Marry Dad. Luan Nian squatted down, retrieved a ring box from the backpack on Luke's back, looked at it for a long moment, and finally stood up. "Please allow me a place inside this Museum of Time, Ms. Shang Zhitao."

With bloodshot eyes, he said, "Shang Zhitao, marry me."

Shang Zhitao's tears flowed endlessly. The sunroom was drenched in sunlight, the light illuminating their bodies and faces, infinitely close to purity in this moment.

Wiping away the tears on her face, she finally nodded and said, "Okay."

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

Sooner or later, both of them would grow old; time never treated anyone with extra favor.

Yet they were not afraid, because they knew that this time, they would never be separated.

Never again.

Their love had endured the harsh winter, welcomed their clear, early spring skies, and finally arrived at the height of summer, stepping into the most passionate time of their lives.

This passion would never fade.

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

(End of Main Story)