During Xiang Ge’s menstrual period, Zhou Xingyan calmly stated the facts, hoping she would behave herself and not wander off.

However, the woman became even more restless. She flipped over and sat up, placing her delicate white hands in front of him, grabbing and scratching at the air as if to tickle him: “Then, shall I use this?”

“...”

Zhou Xingyan pressed her head back into his embrace: “The more I say, the less obedient you become?”

Xiang Ge laughed softly while nestled in his arms. After a moment, she spoke naturally: “Alright, I have a show in a few days, and I need to go to Italy for a while.”

Zhou Xingyan’s movement paused, and he rubbed his chin against the top of her head: “When?”

Xiang Ge tilted her head back: “Next week.”

Zhou Xingyan didn’t speak.

Xiang Ge smiled sweetly, licking her lips as she looked at him: “I also signed with a few niche brands today. I’m now a sought-after model. Wait for me to work hard for two more years, and by then, I’ll be like Xiuba, and I’ll have enough money to support you.”

Zhou Xingyan pursed his lips: “Why wasn’t anyone interested before?”

Xiang Ge’s neck grew tired from tilting her head back, so she lowered it again to rest on him: “I’m short and don’t have any competition rankings or such. I don’t qualify as a runway model, so I quietly and silently do photoshoots.”

She spoke nonchalantly, but Zhou Xingyan felt inexplicably irritated.

He couldn’t bear anyone speaking ill of her. In his eyes, she was flawless from head to toe and should never be deemed “not qualified” for anything.

Even if she said it herself, he wouldn’t accept it.

Zhou Xingyan lowered his gaze: “How is she not qualified? The average height for Asian women is about 160 cm, and 172 cm is just right for models. Too tall isn’t representative.” He earnestly said, “Is there any kind of institution in the fashion industry that listens to suggestions? I’ll write them a letter suggesting they change the qualifying height standard for runway models.”

Xiang Ge was momentarily stunned, amused by his serious demeanor: “Dr. Zhou, do you read romance novels?”

“What for?”

“You sounded just like a domineering CEO from a romance novel a moment ago: ‘My girlfriend is justice. My girlfriend wants to be a model at 150 cm? Then I’ll open a modeling agency for her, and only hire models who are exactly 150 cm tall. Not a centimeter taller!’” Xiang Ge mimicked the tone of a TV drama CEO, nodding afterward, “It’s pretty much like that.”

Zhou Xingyan turned his head, expression serious: “So does the male lead open a children’s clothing company for the female lead?”

“…”

Xiang Ge thought this man truly had no sense of humor.

As usual, Xiang Ge didn’t tell Zhou Xingyan about her trip to Milan. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to; she had been used to going alone for so many years that she hadn’t developed the habit of reporting to someone in advance. Moreover, she thought he was busy with work and wouldn’t have time to see her off.

Unexpectedly, Zhou Xingyan somehow learned about it and took half a day off that day. Xiang Ge had already arranged for Cheng Mu to pick her up, and the nanny car was waiting downstairs. Zhou Xingyan decided not to drive and simply accompanied her.

Cheng Mu saw the usually aloof and taciturn doctor who had delivered breakfast twice get into the car. Frowning, he looked at Xiang Ge’s exposed calf beneath her skirt in the slightly cool autumn air and spread out a piece of clothing to cover her legs.

Cheng Mu couldn’t help but silently admire Xiang Ge in his heart. Sister Xiang Ge was truly impressive; she managed to win over the man she wanted.

He wanted to say that the car’s air conditioning was on, so it wasn’t very cold, and there was no need to be so protective.

After dropping her off at the airport, Gong Mo hadn’t come today, so Cheng Mu got out of the car as well, watching Zhou Xingyan fuss over her like a mother hen, reminding her of everything from morning to night, wishing he could accompany her.

Xiang Ge lazily leaned on the counter, her coat draped over her shoulders, looking up at the man beside her. Suddenly, she raised her hand to wrap around his neck and kissed him lightly.

Cheng Mu turned his face away, filled with the sorrow of a single man.

Xiang Ge’s lips brushed against his like a dragonfly skimming water, her smile lifting the corners of her eyes: “Dr. Zhou will be left alone again, poor thing.”

Zhou Xingyan didn’t refute her but instead lowered his eyes and pursed his lips. His eyelids drooped slightly, giving him a faint look of grievance, strangely resembling a golden retriever left at home by its owner without being taken out to play.

“Yes, it’s pitiful,” he said softly.

This side of him was rare. It was like a gun firing directly at her, instantly melting Xiang Ge. Though it was time for security checks, she felt rooted to the spot.

Blinking, she tightened her arm around his neck, tilting her head to kiss him again.

As if sensing it beforehand, he raised his hand to hold the back of her head.

The shoulder movement was somewhat exaggerated, causing the camel-colored coat draped over her to slide off onto the marble floor of the airport. The coat landed softly, almost soundlessly.

The tall, slender woman tilted her head slightly, her arm wrapped around the man in front of her, kissing him obliviously amidst the crowd.

After a long time, Xiang Ge released him, licking her lips contentedly: “Xing Xing.”

Zhou Xingyan lowered his gaze, his fingers intertwined with her soft hair at the back of her head: “Mm.”

“Xing Xing.”

“I’m here,” he said gently.

Xiang Ge looked at him, her eyes bright and black, exuding a tender, clear light.

She didn’t speak, only focused on looking at him, calling his name repeatedly: “Xing Xing.”

Zhou Xingyan watched her, saying nothing.

He only hoped this moment could freeze, allowing him to listen to her calling his name over and over again, filling his heart with fullness and satisfaction.

Only hearing her voice, feeling her breath, her warmth, her scent—it was as if his life was complete.

After Zhou Xingyan started dating Xiang Ge, Liang Shengxi once asked him how much he liked her.

He didn’t answer at the time.

How much did he like her?

Zhou Xingyan didn’t know.

He had known Xiang Ge for eight years, whether it was during their time apart or after their reunion, he had never once considered this question.

He only knew clearly that every time he saw her, every time he thought of her, his heart boiled and fermented, as if something inside him was overflowing.

Zhou Xingyan sighed softly, suddenly raising both arms to pull her into an embrace.

Lowering his lashes, he bowed his head, his lips moving slowly against her earlobe, his voice deep and calm: “Xiang Ge.”

His voice was low, like a whisper, sounding like a helpless sigh, yet also like a surrender to his own feelings: “How much I like you.”

Xiang Ge’s body trembled slightly, and her eyes widened instantly.

The names Zhou Xingyan and Xiang Ge connected together seemed to span thousands of miles, yet also felt utterly natural and fitting.

They had never even uttered a word of love to each other.

Xiang Ge had never been a brave person. At any other time, she was fine, but when it came to matters of love and family relationships, she became incredibly conflicted, instinctively retreating, unconsciously doubting whether she ever deserved to have love.

Her upbringing and experiences had buried a deep-rooted cautiousness within her.

She was prouder than anyone else, yet also more insecure.

Until Zhou Xingyan appeared.

An invisible pair of hands seemed to push her relentlessly, forcing her towards him with a determined stance.

It was as if someone kept encouraging her in her ear: Be braver, a little braver, urging her to get closer and closer to him.

Until he appeared.

He was too good, radiant like the first ray of light on a winter morning, piercing through thick clouds to dispel the endless darkness of her long, boundless nights.

He also gently embraced her, repeatedly telling her, “You’re amazing, kind, and brave. You’re the best girl in the world, and even every lash is adorable.”

Her heart trembled faintly yet clearly until her fingertips went numb. Xiang Ge tightened her arms around him, wrinkled her nose, and softly murmured, “You’re doing this on purpose, just to make me miss my flight.”

Zhou Xingyan chuckled.

The body in his arms was delicate, seemingly boneless, as if it would break with the slightest pressure, making him handle her with utmost care.

He wanted to hold her in the palm of his hand, cherish her, and give her the best things he could think of in the world.

He softly laughed: “So, are you still going?”

Xiang Ge fell silent for a moment, loosened her arms, and slightly pulled back: “Xing Xing, I will become stronger.”

She looked at him earnestly: “I will also reach the top and become the best in my field. When that time comes, let’s get married.”

The morning light was pale, filtering through the airport’s transparent glass skylight in layers. Her eyelashes fluttered, their tips tinged with a soft golden hue.

Bathed in sunlight, she looked like a complete, dynamic painting—like a sleeping lion slowly awakening or a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, ready to take flight.

Zhou Xingyan gazed at her intently, and after a while, replied slowly and clearly: “Alright.”

In the airport, people hurried past, brushing shoulders in an instant without lingering.

The sky was high and clear, blue and translucent, with thin, soft clouds. Occasionally, the low hum of departing planes could be heard.

It was a beautiful day.

September and October were packed with shows of all sizes. Although the busiest period had passed, Xiang Ge seemed to become even busier.

In the blink of an eye, preparations for the Fall/Winter Fashion Week in February and March had begun. Since October, Xiang Ge had been tirelessly busy, walking in countless small and large shows across various countries. Finally, her efforts earned her advanced invitations from many brands for the Fall/Winter Fashion Week, hinting at her budding status as a rising star.

Zhou Xingyan didn’t have much free time either; when busy, it felt like endless darkness. The two often had little time to even call each other. While abroad, Xiang Ge could only spare time for video calls late at night. By the time she returned to the country, her stay was brief before she had to leave again, making every moment precious. Zhou Xingyan wished he could drag her along even while showering.

Thinking about how, months ago at the airport, he was captivated by those determined, radiant eyes and encouraged her with a “yes,” only to face the endless, long nights afterward, Zhou Xingyan pressed his knuckles against his temple, overwhelmed with regret.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to support her—he should have kept her by his side. Shooting editorials for obscure magazines occasionally would have been fine.

Zhou Xingyan even spent New Year’s with Liang Shengxi.

A man in his thirties with a girlfriend, yet he could only see her through a three-millimeter phone screen on New Year’s, enduring his friend’s merciless teasing from time to time.

Zhou Xingyan’s intestines were green with regret.

As winter approached, the weather became damp and bitterly cold. The streets already carried the festive atmosphere of the upcoming Lunar New Year at the beginning of next month.

Last week, Su Yinghou and President Zhou had flown directly to Hainan, enjoying the sunshine, waves, and beach, completely unaffected by the harsh winter, casually informing him they’d return after the New Year.

Lin Ran transferred departments. Orthopedics was inherently different from other departments, with surgeries demanding high physical stamina, posing significant pressure for female doctors. Previously, she refused to transfer due to Zhou Xingyan.

Before leaving, the woman tidied up her desk and walked out. Coincidentally, Zhou Xingyan entered the office, preparing to leave.

She smiled at him, her tone feigning ease, but her beautiful eyes held a faint glimmer of hope: “I’m leaving. Wishing you happiness in the future.”

Zhou Xingyan nodded indifferently: “Thank you, same to you.”

An official reply devoid of any emotion.

Even her last shred of hope was extinguished.

The woman’s departing figure seemed somewhat lost, but Zhou Xingyan appeared oblivious. He entered the room, took off his white coat, hung it up, and changed into his jacket.

Liang Shengxi couldn’t help but shake his head at Zhou Xingyan’s expressionless demeanor: “Lin Ran pursued you for six years. Are you really devoid of any feelings?”

Zhou Xingyan remained calm, picking up his phone from the table: “I clearly rejected her six years ago,” he put his hands in his coat pockets and walked out, turning his head to look at him with a slight smirk, “Are you not on Fairy Sister’s side now?”

“Of course, I’ll always stand by my Fairy Sister,” Liang Shengxi quickly responded, “I’m just remarking that our A Yan remains consistently cold-hearted over the years.”

Zhou Xingyan smirked but said nothing.

Liang Shengxi also remained silent. As they stepped into the elevator, he couldn’t help but glance at the man beside him.

Truthfully, he was just teasing. Having known Zhou Xingyan for so many years, how could he not know that this person wasn’t unfeeling?

He simply poured all his deep affection into one person alone.

Liang Shengxi remembered Zhou Xingyan during university, even colder than now, like a stagnant pool of dead water, lacking any vitality expected of someone his age.

Through prolonged interaction, they grew closer, and he spoke a bit more, though mostly remained silent. His free time seemed always occupied, rarely seen in the dormitory.

Until one group outing, Liang Shengxi drank a little and stumbled out of the KTV booth to the restroom, finding Zhou Xingyan leaning against the marble floor.

Assuming he was drunk, Liang Shengxi squatted down to call him, intending to tease him about his low tolerance. After all, he hadn’t drunk much.

Zhou Xingyan lifted his eyes.

Liang Shengxi was immediately silenced.

Those dark eyes were bloodshot, the corners wet, the black pupils dim as if no light could penetrate.

His thin lips were tightly pressed together, devoid of color.

After staring for a long while, he slowly uttered: “I lost her.”

Liang Shengxi was stunned.

Zhou Xingyan’s voice was hoarse, like gravel mixed in, his gaze hollow and bewildered: “I can’t find her...”

Liang Shengxi thought he must have been drunk.

It was then that he realized this seemingly emotionless man harbored such intense and heart-stopping feelings.

As the saying goes, the more someone appears indifferent, the more hysterical they become when in love.

Only Liang Shengxi witnessed that moment. Afterwards, Zhou Xingyan showed no change, remaining as usual. Liang Shengxi was unsure if he even remembered that night.

He continued to be absent frequently from the dormitory, ignoring subtle hints from girls around him. Most of the time, he quietly listened to their chatter, occasionally speaking with impactful words that left others speechless.

Until one day after class, Tao Yuan decided to buy the latest issue of some magazine, and they coincidentally stopped by a newsstand near the school.

After Tao Yuan finished purchasing and was about to leave, a few steps away, Zhou Xingyan remained motionless.

He seemed lost in thought, his face expressionless. But from Liang Shengxi’s angle, he could see flickers of light in those dark eyes, gradually becoming vivid.

It was as if something quietly came back to life.

Following his gaze, Liang Shengxi saw a fashion magazine—thin, with rough-looking cover paper, exuding a cheap feel. Yet, the girl on the cover was truly beautiful.

She possessed a bewitching beauty, bold and intense, capturing your gaze and refusing to let go.

When Zhou Xingyan bought that magazine, neither Tao Yuan nor Lin Xiuran saw the cover. They only knew that after that, Zhou Xingyan’s interest shifted to buying fashion magazines. Tao Yuan even joked that he was either smitten with some girl and trying to cater to her or planning to transfer to the neighboring design institute.

At the time, Liang Shengxi agreed, until years later when he saw Xiang Ge again at the hospital.

It had been such a long time, and having only occasionally glimpsed a few covers before, Liang Shengxi indeed didn’t recognize her at first sight.

However, her appearance and demeanor were so distinctive that she was someone you couldn’t easily forget even with just one glance.

A soft sound signaled the elevator reaching the floor, and the metal doors slowly opened.

Zhou Xingyan stepped out, with Liang Shengxi closely following.

As they walked out, he suddenly spoke: “Did you find her?”

Zhou Xingyan turned his head: “What?”

Liang Shengxi didn’t look at him, only moving forward: “The one you accidentally lost before, did you find her now?”

Zhou Xingyan paused, slowing his steps.

Standing by the car, he lowered his eyes, a faint smile curving his lips: “Mm.”

He smiled faintly, his tone light: “I found her.”

When Zhou Xingyan arrived home, it wasn’t as dark as he imagined; the house was brightly lit.

A pair of high-heeled boots stood by the shoe cabinet, an open suitcase lay in front of the coffee table in the living room, filled with clothes, chargers, and other items. Underwear was draped over the edge of the suitcase, and a wool dress hung on the sofa.

Xiang Ge, wearing fluffy coral fleece pajamas, was sprawled on the sofa, hugging a cushion and sleeping soundly.

The house was cold in winter, and in her sleep, she frowned slightly, curling up further into the sofa.

Her habit of not telling him when she would return seemed unchangeable, always claiming it was to give him a surprise.

Zhou Xingyan sighed, went inside, picked her up, and carried her to the bedroom. He placed her on the bed, covered her with a blanket, turned on the electric blanket, and took away the cushion from her arms.

Zhou Xingyan bent over, leaning down with one hand on the bed, tilting his head to look at her.

Her long lashes drooped while she slept, the corners of her eyes slightly upturned, forming a soft arc as if smiling.

Her lips were moist, occasionally puckering in a cute expression she would never have when awake.

Zhou Xingyan gazed intently at the person sleeping soundly on the bed, unconsciously curving his lips.

No matter how much he looked, it seemed never enough.

This time, Xiang Ge had a long vacation upon her return, staying in the country until the New Year, then heading to New York for Fashion Week in February.

Winter rooms were chilly, seemingly colder than outside by a few degrees. A person who already loved to stay in bed was even more reluctant to get up day after day. In the morning, Zhou Xingyan would wake her for breakfast, and after he left for work, she quickly returned to bed, turning on the air conditioning and enjoying what felt like a half-century-long vacation.

Time always dragged during work, but rest flew by. The day before Lunar New Year, Zhou Xingyan finally had a break.

Zhou’s parents went to Hainan, Su Jingnian was in France, so New Year’s Eve became a celebration just for Zhou Xingyan and Xiang Ge.

Xiang Ge had already started feeling bored at home every day, so she was incredibly enthusiastic about finally having something to do. She brought various New Year goods home, hanging a long string of red lanterns in front of the large living room window, sticking large “Fu” characters upside down on the glass, bringing back several pairs of Spring Festival couplets for Zhou Xingyan to choose from, and even changing the bed sheets and pillowcases to red.

Zhou Xingyan’s originally minimalist, almost emotionally cold style gradually began to change. Even the New Year bowls and chopsticks she bought were in vibrant colors.

Xiang Ge didn’t know how to cook, so Zhou Xingyan handled the entire New Year’s Eve dinner. Xiang Ge aimlessly wandered around the kitchen, volunteering to wash vegetables, scrub pots, and arrange plates, while self-reflecting: “Should I learn how to cook?”

Zhou Xingyan skillfully flipped the spatula: “Don’t you know how to roll sushi?”

Xiang Ge recalled Gong Mo teaching her how to roll sushi, which ended up looking horribly misshapen: “Does that count as cooking?”

He hummed: “No need to learn. Knowing this is enough. Don’t I already know everything else?”

Xiang Ge hadn’t sincerely intended to start learning how to cook, but since he gave her an easy way out, she took it. That evening, while Zhou Xingyan made dumplings, she sat beside him making sunflowers.

The kind parents used to make for kids—pressing the edges of two dumpling wrappers together, filling them with brown sugar, sealing the edges, resulting in plump little dumplings.

Zhou Xingyan watched her play with flour-covered hands, unable to help but laugh: “Is this edible? Are you playing with it like clay?”

Xiang Ge had already started on her third sunflower, and although the previous two had wobbly, ugly edges, this one looked quite decent. Satisfied, she placed it in her palm, scrutinized it for a moment, then held it up to him, raising her eyes and smiling: “Xing Xing, here’s a sunflower for you.”

Zhou Xingyan raised his eyes to look at her: “I already have one.” Still holding a dumpling wrapper, he suddenly leaned over to kiss the corner of her mouth.

There was a bit of flour on her lips, but he didn’t mind, licking it off with a smile: “One is enough.”

Amidst the sound of firecrackers, another year passed. While the festive atmosphere lingered, Fashion Week in America had already begun.

Zhou Xingyan didn’t have to be on duty this year, so the couple finally spent the entire Spring Festival together until the sixth day, when Zhou Xingyan resumed work and Xiang Ge prepared to attend Fashion Week.

Mid to late February, starting in New York.

During last year’s Spring/Summer Fashion Week, Xiang Ge attended Paris as a substitute model, unknown beforehand due to her lack of competition rankings and insufficient height.

This year, she signed with several modeling agencies in New York and Paris, walking in numerous shows for various brands.

Designers who appreciated her favored her unique designs tailored specifically for her. Her international face, striking presence in front of the camera, and her distinctive, free-spirited aura allowed her to finally make a mark in the international market where Asian models were highly regarded.

From February to March, traveling through New York, London, Milan, and Paris, she was like a non-stop spinning top, seemingly inexhaustible, walking in fifty-eight shows that season, gaining immense fame and showing signs of becoming a rising star in China.

At that moment, her previously criticized height of just 173 cm seemed to transform into a unique eye-catching feature.

At the end of March, Xiang Ge returned to China, and there were already a few domestic fashion magazine journalists waiting at the airport to take photos.

She initially didn’t realize they were photographing her until she came out dragging her suitcase and saw a few people with telephoto lenses heading her way.

Putting on sunglasses now seemed too late, but fortunately, there weren’t many people. Gong Mo and Cheng Mu were nearby and rushed over upon seeing her.

Xiang Ge remained calm and composed, even adjusting her facial expression instantly after realizing, casually presenting her most satisfactory angle to the lens.

After nearly two months of relentless travel, Xiang Ge’s little spinning top finally ran out of energy, lying around at home for a few days. She accepted a cover shoot for a well-known domestic magazine and received a renewal offer from SINGO .

Just as she was recovering, a week later, Bai Yuandao called.

It had been nearly eight months since the filming of Cocoon ended, and it was finally premiering.

At the end of April, shortly after Qingming, it was the Grain Rain period.

Cold snaps had mostly ended, and the weather began to warm up, with early spring plants beginning to bud.

On the day of Cocoon ‘s premiere, Xiang Ge deliberately told Zhou Xingyan in advance. The man calmly raised his eyes and said he wouldn’t be resting.

Xiang Ge naturally knew he wouldn’t rest, but she still told him.

For the first time, she wanted to be selfish and have him come see it regardless.

For Xiang Ge, this movie was important.

It was her first film, probably also her last, and because of it, she underwent a rebirth, like the prelude to a new chapter. From then on, her life finally set sail on a new course.

She thought that if she told him, he might come.

At the time, Xiang Ge nodded understandingly and said nothing.

After finishing her makeup and dressing, it was about time, and Gong Mo came to pick her up.

The premiere was held at the City Convention Theater. By the time the actors arrived, the lobby was already packed with journalists.

Upon entering, there was a large poster, with pull-up banners on both sides of the entrance. The director and actors lined up, facing a sea of reporters and cameras below.

Xiang Ge wore a light blue strapless gown, with a cinched waist that accentuated her figure, flowing down elegantly before flaring out at the skirt.

After introducing herself, she quietly stood behind Jiang Xu, next to Su Yining, who had just returned from Hainan with a healthy, sun-kissed complexion.

Su Yining smiled and whispered teasingly into her ear: “Has my daughter-in-law’s bust grown recently?”

Facing dozens of camera lenses and a crowd of media reporters, Xiang Ge had never been asked such a question in this situation.

She lightly coughed, her cheeks flushing slightly with a faint blush.

After the premiere ceremony ended, everyone moved to the screening hall inside the theater. A large movie screen had already been lowered, and the film was about to start.

Only a few people could attend the premiere; admission required tickets, usually reserved for industry professionals or media representatives. Once most people were seated, the lights dimmed.

During filming, scenes were often shot out of sequence, with later scenes filmed earlier for continuity. However, the final edited film had a completely different effect.

Xiang Ge hadn’t seen the finished product after editing. Now, sitting in her seat like an ordinary audience member watching her own movie, it felt novel.

The film addressed a sensitive topic, one of the severe social issues of the present, though most people’s understanding of domestic violence was still limited to online discussions, lacking deeper insight.

By the time the movie ended, the lights in the screening hall gradually came back on. Xiang Ge even heard faint sobs coming from the back rows.

Next to her sat Ji Ran, who turned his head to look at her. Xiang Ge lowered her eyes, just standing up when the lights suddenly went out again.

Xiang Ge paused, lifting her head while remaining where she stood.

Many people behind her who had just risen to leave now stopped and looked forward.

The large screen in front slowly rose, revealing curtains pulled back to expose the entire stage.

Layers of white gauze curtains concealed tiny strings of lights inside. The surroundings were dim, with soft lighting filtering through hundreds of balloons on the ground, creating a hazy glow.

The noise behind Xiang Ge grew louder, with low screams and gasps from women.

Zhou Xingyan, dressed formally, walked out from the side of the stage. He kept his eyes lowered, walking through the balloons and lights, descending the stage, his gaze fixed on someone in the front row.

In his hands, he held something white that moved. As he approached, Xiang Ge recognized it as a pigeon.

The pigeon seemed trained, calmly resting in Zhou Xingyan’s palm, its head swaying side to side, occasionally cooing softly.

Its head gleamed brightly, with a transparent thread tied around it holding a ring.

The diamond on the ring sparkled brilliantly, simple yet intricate in design, perched atop its head like a crown, making the small white creature look adorable and somewhat silly.

Watching the man approach, Xiang Ge’s momentarily halted brain resumed functioning.

Her first reaction was to laugh.

She couldn’t help but smile, raising a finger to touch the little creature in his hand. Extending her hand, she watched it obediently allow her to hold it, not flying away.

The weight of the living thing in her palm felt substantial, moving constantly, ticklish. Xiang Ge was afraid it might suddenly fly away or get hurt, so she carefully cradled it: “What is this?”

Zhou Xingyan looked down at her: “It’s my pigeon princess.”

Xiang Ge blinked, emotions swelling in her chest. She feigned ignorance: “Then why are you here? Don’t you have work?”

Zhou Xingyan’s dark eyes softened as he spoke tenderly: “To take my pigeon princess home.”

Beside them sat the director, screenwriter, and other actors. Those nearby also heard clearly, and the surrounding area erupted in enthusiastic cheers, applause, and screams. Many took out their phones to snap photos.

Xiang Ge’s long lashes trembled, her eyes moistening as she looked up at him.

She wanted to laugh, but her nose began to feel sour. Pretending otherwise, she lowered her head, speaking faster: “Never seen anyone propose with a pigeon. What if it flies away? Then the ring would be gone. Do you have money?”

Zhou Xingyan chuckled softly, lowering his lashes: “If it flies away, so be it. Exchanging a ring for a wife seems quite worthwhile.”

“I won’t marry without a ring,” Xiang Ge raised her head, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. “And you didn’t say anything, just ambiguously doing whatever. Trying to fool me with empty promises?”

The crowd laughed kindly, their cheers and encouragement growing louder. Zhou Xingyan was momentarily stunned, his expression filled with affectionate exasperation.

He lowered his eyes, leaning slightly, his warm lips gently touching her forehead: “I love you.”

His voice was slightly hoarse, soft and entwined, “Ever since I first saw you.”

The white pigeon spread its wings, escaping from her palm, flying low in a circle, then obediently landing back on Zhou Xingyan’s shoulder.

Xiang Ge raised her arms, tightly embracing the man before her.

The screening hall of the theater was vast and spacious, with what felt like countless people clapping around her. Women screamed enviously, some shouted “Marry him!” while others teased “Kiss her!”

Xiang Ge’s body went limp, feeling the man embrace her in return, his arms trembling as they tightened inch by inch.

What more could she want? What hesitation remained? What was there left to wait for?

Xiang Ge closed her eyes, the faint shimmer in the corner of her eye finally sliding down slowly.

I once sank deep into the mire, fell to the bottom of the abyss, endured the darkest days, burdened with thorns, painfully trudging alone.

But then, I met you.

All the hardships and pain eventually became the past, dissipating silently like smoke between fingers.

Even if the future remains uncertain and the road ahead is full of thorns, I am at peace, unafraid.

All of this is simply because.

You are by my side.

—End of Text—