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Luan Nian suddenly understood what Shang Zhitao had been struggling with.
She must have been thinking that her age advantage was gradually fading. In the past, Luan Nian had been with her because she was young—after all, almost everyone says men prefer younger women. Now, a 22-year-old newcomer had appeared on the scene: beautiful, well-connected, talented, and even rumored to have some sort of connection with Luan Nian at work.
Shang Zhitao might have been wondering: one day, Luan Nian would surely end up with someone else in their early twenties, as most men did.
As for the rumors about him and Song Ying, Luan Nian had heard bits and pieces but hadn’t paid much attention to them.
Rarely, he found himself truly understanding Shang Zhitao’s inner thoughts. He didn’t even realize it himself—he was beginning to empathize with her deeply.
“Don’t you already have an answer in your heart?” he asked her. “Your brain can be used occasionally—it’s not that difficult.”
“Not difficult?”
“Well then, how about this: 26-year-old Shang Zhitao goes home, and 22-year-old Song Ying joins me on this trip instead?”
“…”
Seeing Shang Zhitao turn around and walk away, Luan Nian thought to himself that Ms. Shang’s temper had grown quite short these days. With a sigh, he pulled her into his arms. “Where are you going?”
“Back to the car—the wind is too strong.”
“I thought you were going to swap me out.” Luan Nian teased her.
“You’re dreaming!” Shang Zhitao burst into laughter. “You may not know how to talk properly, but I understood you. You were talking about the present. Right now, you’re traveling with 26-year-old Shang Zhitao. And you like 26-year-old Shang Zhitao.”
“You’ve gotten smarter,” Luan Nian praised her. “You’re finally using your brain.” He hugged her tightly. “Let’s enjoy the view a little longer. Luke hasn’t finished running yet.”
Hearing this, Luke barked happily and ran off again. Luan Nian wrapped Shang Zhitao in his coat, leaving only her head exposed. Surrounded by breathtaking scenery, the two of them and their dog seemed incredibly small against the vastness of the world. The universe was full of wonders, yet people were often troubled by earthly concerns. In the end, life amounted to just a handful of dust or a grain in the ocean. Happiness in the moment mattered most.
“So, can you just tell me the answer directly?” Shang Zhitao began acting spoiled, mimicking Luan Nian’s usual behavior. She felt as though she was becoming greedier, needing Luan Nian to express his feelings clearly—with a simple yes or no, love or not. She craved certainty because certainty brought security.
Luan Nian rested his chin against her neck, his breath brushing over the fine, barely visible hairs on her ear: “I choose you.”
Overjoyed, Shang Zhitao tilted her head away from him, giggling. “It tickles!” Turning around, she cupped his face and kissed him soundly. “I choose you too. Even though you’re in your thirties.”
“?” Luan Nian pinched her cheek. “Say that again?”
“It’s fine. Everyone gets older.” Shang Zhitao kissed him again and tugged him back into the car.
________________________________________
Shang Zhitao started to feel a headache coming on. Seeing her frown, Luan Nian teased her: “What’s wrong with you? Altitude sickness kicking in below 3,000 meters?”
“Are you feeling fine?”
“I’m okay, but not great—close to nothing, actually.” Though he mocked her, he was still worried. He decided to detour to Golmud.
“We’ll rest in Golmud for a day. You need to acclimate.” Luan Nian began rambling: “No strenuous activities, no running, jumping, or fast walking. No alcohol. Is the headache bad?”
Shang Zhitao shook her head. “Not too bad.”
“Do you feel nauseous? Short of breath?”
“A little.”
In Golmud, Luan Nian found a hotel and checked them in. Once inside, he instructed Shang Zhitao to rest.
“Lie down on the bed.” Luan Nian pulled back the covers and tucked her in, giving her a tablet of ibuprofen.
“We won’t make it to Lhasa the day after tomorrow,” Shang Zhitao said, disappointed.
“What’s worrying you? Can Lhasa run away?” Luan Nian scolded her gently. “Your health is more important. If 20 days isn’t enough, we’ll take 25. What else would you save your vacation days for?”
“Would you abandon me in Tibet?” When Shang Zhitao wasn’t feeling well, her mind tended to wander. In her imagination, Luan Nian left her behind in Lhasa and drove off alone. Knowing him, he might very well do something so inhumane—it was just who he was.
“Are you sick in the head?” Luan Nian flicked her forehead and climbed into bed, pulling her into his arms. “Sleep for a while. Afterward, we’ll explore Golmud. This city isn’t bad either.”
“Mm.” Shang Zhitao clutched his shirt and mumbled sleepily, “Do you know how much I love you?”
“I know.”
After coaxing Shang Zhitao to sleep, Luan Nian opened his phone and saw videos posted by Chen Kuannian in their group chat. They were enjoying boating and coffee in Giethoorn. The three men looked impeccable, like models posing for photoshoots. Chen Kuannian teased him: “Tsk, without our fashion icon Mr. Luan, this trip feels slightly less exciting. Fortunately, the women here remain as charming as ever.”
Luan Nian snorted and sent some pictures from their journey.
Chen Kuannian egged him on: “You didn’t go alone, did you? Not even a single photo together?”
“You don’t deserve it,” Luan Nian shot back.
The group chat erupted in chatter. Smiling faintly, Luan Nian turned to see Shang Zhitao sweating slightly. He adjusted the blanket, pulling her arm out. He tapped her nose lightly and whispered teasingly, “You should be glad you’re with me in Tibet. Anyone else would’ve left you stranded here.”
“No check-in message?” Dr. Liang messaged him.
“All good.”
“That’s it? No photos? I want to see Flora.”
“Nope.” Luan Nian replied, but then remembered the drone footage. He got up and edited a short clip. Watching the part where the drone took off and Shang Zhitao waved, he suddenly realized how enduringly beautiful she looked. Though her face wasn’t clear due to the distance, the way she stood beside him with Luke running around formed a perfect picture. He exported the video, made a quick edit, and sent it to Dr. Liang: “No faces, just deal with it.”
Dr. Liang examined the video for a long time before asking, “Why does she look so much like the Shang Zhitao from that dating website?”
“Do you still remember what people on that site looked like?”
“My mom never forgets anything—thanks for reminding me.”
“It’s her, thank you.”
Dr. Liang suddenly felt a little moved and showed the video to Luan Nian’s father. “Look, this girl seems really nice.”
“Have you met her in person?” Luan Senior disliked excessive sentimentality—judging someone before even meeting them.
Dr. Liang grew flustered: “What’s wrong with you?” Luan Nian took after his father; neither of them knew how to speak kindly. Dr. Liang had spent a lifetime bickering with Luan Senior, and in the end, neither would back down, yet neither could leave the other.
Luan Senior grunted: “I’m just advising you not to get too excited or set your expectations too high. Our son has always been prone to messing things up since he was a child.”
“...” Dr. Liang followed behind him, protesting: “And who is he like? If he messes it up, you can just wait for your son to grow old alone!”
Unaware that his parents were talking about him, Luan Nian returned to the bed and held Shang Zhitao as they both rested for a while. When they opened their eyes, it was already past 6 p.m., and Shang Zhitao was feeling slightly better.
“Since you’re feeling better, let’s go out and explore.”
“Alright.” She sat up abruptly but was immediately pushed back down by Luan Nian. “Do you want to kill yourself?”
“Didn’t I tell you to move slowly?”
“Didn’t I warn you not to get too excited?”
“What’s worrying you?”
Luan Nian scolded her sentence after sentence. After enduring it for a while, Shang Zhitao finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Luan Nian, why are you so naggy...”
?
Luan Nian shot her a murderous glare, and Shang Zhitao immediately shut her mouth.
She slowly slid off the bed, trying to be obedient.
Neither of them felt like eating heavy meat, so they found a place serving yak bone soup, paired with flatbread and pickles, along with thinly sliced yak meat. The broth was rich, and after one sip, sweat began to bead on Shang Zhitao’s nose. “It’s delicious.”
“If you like it, we can come back tomorrow.”
“Are we not leaving tomorrow?”
“I’m afraid you’ll die on the road. Let’s rest another day. No rush. Tomorrow, I’ll take you around nearby. There’s plenty of scenery here too.”
“Alright. Luan Nian, do you know something? I think I should tell you.”
“What?”
“I love traveling with you.”
Shang Zhitao thought she should follow the examples of Lumi and Sun Yu—expressing love without fear of rejection, ridicule, or embarrassment. If we don’t dare to speak sweet words when we’re young, should we wait until our hair turns gray to give flowers to the ones we love? Though that might still be romantic, what memories would such a wasted life hold?
“Anything else? Any more sweet words?” Luan Nian asked.
“I love you, love every path you choose, love adventuring with you. I love all the beautiful scenery along the way because I see it with you.” Shang Zhitao blushed slightly. “Can you say some sweet words too? I want to hear them.”
Luan Nian took a sip of soup without looking up and said simply: “Same.”
“Same” wasn’t exactly a romantic line, but why did Shang Zhitao like it so much? She sipped her soup, mimicking Luan Nian’s half-dead tone: “So sweet.”
After dinner, Luan Nian took her and Luke for a leisurely stroll through the unfamiliar city, drawing many curious glances. Shang Zhitao stopped at a fruit cart, picked out some fruits, and paid. The elderly vendor then pulled another piece of fruit from his bag and handed it to her, gesturing as he did so. Neither of them understood, but a passing young person explained: “He’s complimenting you, saying you look good together.”
Shang Zhitao had never heard anyone call them a matching pair before.
In familiar cities, they often pretended to be strangers, and others assumed the person beside them was someone else. This was the first time, in an unfamiliar city, that someone had praised them as a perfect match while he held her hand.
Seeing Shang Zhitao visibly moved, Luan Nian said: “The old man has good eyes. I wouldn’t match well with just anyone.” His tone sounded arrogant, and indeed, it was. In his previous two relationships, his girlfriends had been stunning beauties, but people didn’t call them a perfect match—they’d say they were just fooling around. With other women, people assumed it was casual, but with Shang Zhitao, no one would think it was just for fun. It seemed like these two were serious about pursuing a wonderful life together.
Because of this “perfect match” comment, Luan Nian was in an excellent mood. He bought a lot of fruit and shared it with those who wanted to buy some, almost as if he intended to buy out the entire cart. Luke sat there watching his wealthy dad perform, embodying the essence of a snobbish dog.
After staying two nights in Golmud, Shang Zhitao was mostly recovered, and the two continued their journey. Shang Zhitao had assumed that Luan Nian, being so wild, would also be aggressive during the trip. But he wasn’t. He loved adventure but didn’t overly chase goals, preferring a relaxed pace. Whenever Shang Zhitao felt unwell, he would stop. After all, there was no rush.
They began to find their rhythm, stopping every hour and a half to handle work for half an hour each. Shang Zhitao’s Northwest project creative draft had passed, and the third-party company had started modeling. Her stress had eased somewhat, though she still needed to oversee the process carefully to avoid any errors affecting implementation. Luan Nian was busier, as many decisions awaited him. Most of his work involved phone calls, and he rarely checked his phone otherwise. Sometimes he handed it to Shang Zhitao to read messages aloud, and he dictated replies for her to send.
The day before entering Lhasa, Luan Nian was driving the final stretch. Shang Zhitao was still helping him with work when she saw a message from Yilia: “Luke, last night, my dad casually mentioned that their group plans to redistribute ad budgets next year. Should we participate in the bidding?”
Shang Zhitao read it aloud to him. Luan Nian replied: “Yes.”
A few seconds later, he added: “Through official channels.”
Shang Zhitao sent the reply and glanced at him. By now, she somewhat understood that bosses always covered all bases in significant matters. Online messages would never say: Sure, is there a shortcut? Or, Can you help smooth things over?
“When I say ‘official channels,’ I mean exactly that,” Luan Nian said while driving. “I disdain using other means—it’s meaningless.”
“So why do you keep having meals with Jiang Lan...?”
“Jiang Lan is a friend. Eating is just eating, but nothing inappropriate ever happens.”
Another message came in from Yilia: “Alright. How about inviting my dad to dinner one day to understand the background better?”
“Sure,” Luan Nian said.
Shang Zhitao replied, then handed the phone back to him. “Check it yourself later.”
“Why?”
“I feel uncomfortable. It feels like I’m prying into your privacy.”
“You watch my house every day through the camera—I have no privacy left.” Luan Nian teased her. Shang Zhitao turned to look at Luke: “The real culprit is right there.”
Through the rearview mirror, Luan Nian glanced at the silly dog Luke, whose once snow-white fur had turned light gray after just a few days. Oblivious, the dog grinned happily. “Because you’re in the Northwest, Luke misses you, so I let you check.”
“I know. Luke misses me, and Luke misses me too.” Shang Zhitao smirked proudly.
This time, Luan Nian didn’t laugh at her but responded with a low, deep voice:
“Yes.”
Shang Zhitao looked at him, then gazed out the window at the scenery, her lips curving upward. After a moment, unable to contain herself, she burst into laughter.
Luan Nian eyed her suspiciously. She turned to look at him. Perhaps because they were so close to the sun, her eyes sparkled brightly. Placing her hand over her chest, she said earnestly, “Just now, I truly realized—your heart isn’t hard at all.”
Not hard, but incredibly soft.
He was a gentle person, though his gentleness didn’t manifest in ordinary ways.
Others rarely saw it, but Shang Zhitao did.
It was truly rare.
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