The woman in the light-colored coat smiled at him, her eyes curving. Though tears still clung to the corners of her eyes, making her look like a red-eyed little rabbit, her mood clearly wasn’t low—on the contrary…
She seemed happy?
Xiao Cheng was bewildered.
“Husband.” Her soft, tear-tinged voice sounded like a coaxing plea the moment she spoke, softening his heart. As she spoke, her pale, slender hand gently stroked the back of his, until he couldn’t help but raise his arm and pull her tightly into his embrace, enveloping her completely.
“I’m here.” His heavy reply betrayed that his emotions were far from as calm as they appeared on the surface.
“I’m not angry, and I’m not sad—because I have a secret to tell you too.” Lin Aiyun grabbed his ring finger—the one with the wedding band—and shook it lightly. Her words made Xiao Cheng’s body first relax, then tense up again.
After a few seconds of silence, he spoke hesitantly: “What secret?”
“I don’t know how to explain this either, but I feel like it’s a gift from heaven.” Lin Aiyun’s large almond-shaped eyes glistened with moisture. Her long hair brushed against his neck, tickling slightly, but he paid it no mind—every fiber of his being was focused on her.
“If it’s a gift, then it must be something good.” Hearing that, he curved his lips upward slightly.
She smiled too, then her expression turned serious. “You have to listen carefully. I’m going to tell you everything.”
“Mm. I’ll listen.” Somehow, Xiao Cheng had a feeling that the story she was about to tell would be connected to him.
The next stretch of time felt long and torturous—at least the first half. Xiao Cheng gritted his teeth through it all, especially when he heard that in her “previous life,” Lin Aiyun had married that cowardly, filial fool Meng Baoguo and had lived in misery for decades. He nearly ground his molars to dust!
He wished he could fly back to Jiangming Province and tear Meng Baoguo limb from limb!
The more he heard, the angrier he grew. His fists clenched tighter and tighter, his chest heaving violently. If Lin Aiyun hadn’t been there to soothe him, he might have actually passed out from rage.
But thankfully, after the suffering came the rainbow—she’d left Jiangming Province, come to the capital, and met him in his middle age.
Thankfully, he hadn’t been blind enough to settle for someone else, or they would have missed each other.
“You were just as much of a tyrant when you were older—completely unreasonable!” Lin Aiyun huffed and shot him a glare. Xiao Cheng rubbed his nose, clearly not objecting.
But before hearing her story today, he’d always assumed he’d become more mature and steady with age.
From her description, it turned out he’d just gotten better at pretending!
After all, to win Aiyun, he’d resorted to taking her by force, stopping at nothing.
Listening to Lin Aiyun’s complaints, the smile on Xiao Cheng’s lips only deepened. Catching it from the corner of her eye, she pressed her forehead in exasperation—she knew he’d take it as a badge of honor rather than shame.
“All of this matches what I dreamed. Wife, we really are destined across lifetimes!” Xiao Cheng’s chin rubbed against her shoulder, his forehead pressed to her cheek. Some of the dream details he’d never told anyone—but she knew them!
It seemed his earlier guess was right. They were fated to be together, and no one could tear them apart. Even heaven didn’t want to see them separated, giving them a second chance to make up for the lost years of their earlier lives.
As Xiao Cheng rambled on with various guesses and boasts, Lin Aiyun started off exasperated, but the more she listened, the more sense it made. She reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“We’re going to be just fine.”
“Mm.” Xiao Cheng pulled her even closer, his warm, breathy exhale brushing against her neck, making her instinctively shrink back. But the next second, his lips caught her earlobe, his tongue tracing circles on it.
She looked up and met his deep, unfathomable eyes, swirling with a storm of emotions. Then he closed them and pressed a tender kiss to her lips—one filled with reverence and cherishing for their renewed bond across lifetimes.
—
After that night, with all secrets laid bare between them, the couple grew even closer. Aside from work, they spent every moment together, feeding each other grapes with the sickening sweetness of newlyweds.
But their blissful days didn’t last long before their busy careers pulled them apart.
Following the investigation into the framing and theft, the association implemented strict patrols and ideological education sessions. Everyone was required to attend, with Jiang Run and Xiao Wenjuan in charge of the lectures.
Meanwhile, Zhuang Dongping’s punishment was handed down: since she wasn’t a full member of the association, she was expelled outright, and a hard ban was placed on her within the embroidery industry. On the surface, at least, she would never again have the chance to enter the association or pick up a needle and thread.
It was a pity, but it was also entirely her own doing—she had no one to blame but herself.
Luo Cheng, as her accomplice, received the same punishment. His family background was far more ordinary, unlike Zhuang Dongping who might still have other options. As for which industry he’d end up in next—no one knew.
Out of consideration for Yang Xueyan’s feelings, the association did not report the two to the authorities, letting the matter blow over quietly.
The day after the verdict came down, Yang Xueyan personally brought Zhuang Dongping to Lin Aiyun’s home to offer a formal apology. It was clear that after everything that had happened, the relationship between master and disciple had become somewhat strained.
Yang Xueyan was fine for the most part, but Zhuang Dongping seemed to have erected a high wall around herself. She appeared unsure of how to face her teacher—throughout the entire visit, she barely made eye contact with Yang Xueyan, spoke very little, and kept her head lowered. Her former liveliness and cheerfulness were completely gone.
It was as if she’d become a different person altogether.
According to Yang Xueyan, Zhuang Dongping’s family, worried about the changing situation in the country and shifting directions in their family business, was planning to move abroad permanently with no intention of returning.
Yang Xueyan was deeply reluctant to see her go, but Lin Aiyun felt this might actually be the best outcome for Zhuang Dongping. A change of environment might help her let go of her obsessions and step out of that stubborn, narrow-minded corner she’d backed herself into.
Perhaps something similar had happened in her previous life too—which was why she’d never heard Yang Xueyan mention her only disciple, Zhuang Dongping.
Thankfully, the project wasn’t significantly affected by the incident and continued progressing in an orderly fashion. It was completed successfully within the expected timeframe. The embroidery piece, which brought together the skills of most of the association’s best embroiderers, turned out as flawless as expected—almost impossible to find fault with. The higher-ups were very pleased and sent over the appropriate rewards and commendations.
Around this time, the association president finally returned to the capital.
Within days, news broke that the president was going to take on a new disciple—and the disciple was none other than the recently “infamous” Lin Aiyun! Many were shocked, but at the same time, it felt only natural.
Who was Lin Aiyun? The association had never seen a newcomer with more talent or at a younger age. She had broken multiple records since her arrival, and anyone who tried to object simply couldn’t find a reason to.
The apprenticeship ceremony wasn’t held at the association—it was a private affair, so it was hosted at a well-known restaurant in the capital. A few familiar embroiderers from the association were invited, along with both families, and a meal together marked the formal completion of the ceremony.
Still, Lin Aiyun insisted on kneeling and kowtowing three times to Wan Tingzhi, offering tea with due respect.
As the days passed, the weather grew colder. Before long, everyone was bundled up in cotton-padded jackets and overcoats.
For those who’d come from the south for the first time, the cold was especially harsh. Scarves and hats were a must—particularly for a pregnant Lin Aiyun, who wrapped herself up like a dumpling every day. Fortunately, after the project wrapped up, she no longer had to go to the association every day and could work on her embroidery from the comfort of home, which made things more bearable.
But with all the extra layers and her pregnancy symptoms, she spent most of the day sleeping. Often, she’d open her eyes to find Xiao Cheng already beside her. As the year-end approached, the steel factory kept him busier than ever, and his return times grew unpredictable—though he still tried his best to make it home for dinner.
“A-juan’s birthday is coming up. Why not invite your friends over for a gathering? I’ll cook you all something delicious.” Zhang Wenhua picked up a piece of stir-fried chili with cured meat and placed it in Xiao Juan’s bowl.
The latter smiled and popped the meat into her mouth, but shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to put you through all that trouble, Auntie Hua. Those friends of mine are big eaters—they’d clean out the kitchen. It’s better to just book a couple of tables at a restaurant.”
Hearing this, Zhang Wenhua’s eyes crinkled with warmth. Xiao Juan’s words were truly heartfelt, and she nodded repeatedly. “Do whatever you think is best—we’re all behind you.”
“Let her handle it herself. I’m sure Shen Liang’an has something planned on his end too, right?” Xiao Cheng was busy picking out fish bones for Lin Aiyun when he chimed in on the conversation.
“Brother!” Xiao Juan’s ears flushed red at the mention of Shen Liang’an, and she shot him a reproachful glare, as if blaming him for exposing things in front of everyone.
“What’s there to hide? It’s nothing shameful. After the new year, you two should get married.” Xiao Cheng was no old-fashioned stick-in-the-mud; he had no prejudice against free love—in fact, he was all for it.
Hearing Xiao Cheng’s words, Lin Aiyun smiled and nudged him, unable to resist teasing: “I think the banquet will have to happen before the new year, or someone’s going to get too impatient to wait.”
“Sister-in-law!” Xiao Juan’s face turned as red as a monkey’s bottom. The whole table burst into laughter, the sound ringing through the room.
But Lin Aiyun wasn’t wrong. Xiao Juan’s fingertips rubbed together as she recalled Shen Liang’an leaning in to whisper in her ear last time—that he absolutely had to marry her before the year’s end. Her face burned even hotter.
“By the way, when is that young Shen fellow coming back from Shanghai? Wasn’t he supposed to be back this December?” Lin Jianzhi sucked on a fish bone, speaking up for once—something he rarely did.
He’d only brought up Shen Liang’an because the last time they met, the young man had gifted him a brand-new fishing set. It had hit right at his heart, and ever since, his attitude toward Shen Liang’an had completely changed.
Xiao Cheng had given him a similar set before too, and back then, Lin Jianzhi had looked at him with the same approval and fondness.
“He said he’d be back before my birthday.”
“Good. As long as he doesn’t miss such an important day.”
But when that day truly arrived, dusk came and went—and Shen Liang’an never appeared. No word, no message, nothing.
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