Cecilia Ye knew it was Henry Hart who had helped find her lost puppy last time.

She followed Henry Hart into the car. "Thank you for your help, Henry Hart."

"Not at all, madam."

"And thank you again for helping me find Zoey Zhang last time."

Henry Hart smiled. "That time, it was the boss himself looking for her. Even in such heavy rain, he ran with us through the whole neighborhood."

Back then, the anxious look on the boss's face—it must have all been for madam’s sake.

Cecilia Ye fell silent, gazing out the window.

Why, Fu Zhiyé?

Why do you always let me down, then give me hope?

The car drove all the way back to the old house.

As Cecilia Ye got out of the car, Henry Hart called Fu Zhiyé.

"Hello, Boss."

"Yes, madam’s home now."

"She’s fine, but... she seemed a little down." He couldn’t help adding.

"Okay."

Cecilia Ye slowly walked toward the courtyard. Facing the big gate, she took a deep breath, patted her cheeks, and forced herself to smile.

From the kitchen came a hubbub of noise. The table was already set with dishes, all her favorites.

Three people bustled about in the kitchen—Grandpa Rivers, Grandma Rivers, and Aunt Whitney. To her surprise, Grandpa Rivers was wielding the spatula, awkwardly flipping sweet-and-sour pork ribs in the wok.

Grandma Rivers and Aunt Whitney stood by, watching like they were preparing for battle.

Cecilia Ye was moved, lingering by the door, watching for a long time.

Fu Zhiyé, because of you, I have a loving grandpa and grandma.

What you’ve given me—there’s more good than bad, and so much more joy than sadness.

That’s why I can never bear to leave.

I don’t want to lose you.

Grandma Rivers noticed her first. "Hey, our little birthday girl is home! Look, Grandpa Rivers’s even personally cooking tonight."

Cecilia Ye smiled, set her balloons aside, and went to wash her hands at the sink.

"Let me do it, Grandpa Rivers," she said, taking the spatula. She handled the ribs far more deftly than he did.

Grandpa Rivers looked behind her. "Where’s Zhiyé? Why don’t I see him?"

Pausing, Cecilia Ye managed a small smile. "He got called to work, something urgent came up."

"What? Something urgent, today of all days?"

She plated the ribs and pushed the grumpy old man out of the kitchen. "Grandpa Rivers, Zhiyé spent the whole day with me already. He just had to handle something. Let’s eat—I'm starving."

Hearing that, Grandpa Rivers finally relented. "Alright, alright, let’s eat."

At dinner, Cecilia Ye kept chattering about everything that happened at the amusement park.

If Fu Zhiyé hadn’t left, today would easily have been her happiest ever.

She recounted it all so cheerfully. "Grandpa Rivers, I even had bunny-shaped ice cream. Zhiyé lined up to buy it for me—it was delicious!"

Grandpa Rivers harrumphed, but couldn’t hide his smile: "At least he’s got some decency."

But by the time they finished dinner and brought out the cake, Fu Zhiyé still hadn’t come home.

Grandpa Rivers’s smile finally faded.

"Hmph! Fu Zhiyé’s gone too far this time. When he gets back, I have to give him a talking-to."

Grandma Rivers tugged Grandpa Rivers’s sleeve, signaling him to drop it.

Cecilia Ye bowed her head, pretending not to notice. Everyone was so kind to her, always looking after her feelings. She should be happy tonight.

Candles lit, she clasped her hands together and made a wish.

She wished for Grandpa Rivers and Grandma Rivers’s health.

She wished for Fu Zhiyé... to get everything he wanted.

And she wished that she could learn to stop loving him, soon.

*

Meanwhile, Fu Zhiyé had found Vivian Belle.

The place was indeed remote. When he arrived, Vivian Belle was sitting by the roadside, her face streaked with tears.

"A’Ye, you came."

Fu Zhiyé's expression was dark as he knelt to check her foot.

He made a call, asking someone to pull surveillance footage from that stretch of road, then bent down and lifted her up.

Vivian Belle clung to his neck, sobbing harder. "I’m sorry, A’Ye, I was so scared—that’s why I called you. Are you still mad about last time? I’m sorry!"

Fu Zhiyé felt a cold ache between his brows. The cloying scent of her perfume filled the air, but in his mind, he remembered the faint fresh-fruit fragrance of Cecilia Ye.

Once he settled Vivian Belle into the backseat, he finally spoke.

"I’ll take you to the hospital. The doctor will see you now. I have to get home early tonight."

A flash of malice crossed Vivian Belle’s eyes. Hmph. It was that little girl’s birthday—she'd only called Fu Zhiyé over on purpose.

While the doctor examined Vivian Belle, Fu Zhiyé leaned against the hospital wall, brow furrowed, radiating chill and frustration.

He’d wanted to spend Cecilia Ye’s birthday with her—now he was left restless and irritable.

Vivian Belle’s leg was only mildly sprained—nothing serious.

Once she was settled, Fu Zhiyé got ready to leave.

"A’Ye, please don’t go." Vivian Belle’s voice broke behind him, her frail body shaking with sobs.

"Will you stay with me? A’Ye... do you not love me anymore? Have you fallen for Cecilia Ye?"

Fu Zhiyé froze mid-step. Watching her cry so pitifully, he said nothing.

"When the car hit me today, I was terrified. I thought, what if I died and never saw you again?"

She buried her face in her hands, crying loudly.

Fu Zhiyé sighed in resignation, sat on the bedside, and handed her a tissue.

"I’ll stay for now. Don’t overthink it. Go to sleep."

Vivian Belle grabbed his hand. "Okay, I’ll sleep. Just don’t leave."

"Okay."

Once Vivian Belle drifted off, Fu Zhiyé quietly left the room.

The moment he closed the door, Vivian Belle’s eyes snapped open—not a trace of sleepiness in them.

Hmph, Cecilia Ye. I won’t let you have it easy.

*

After coaxing Grandpa Rivers and Grandma Rivers to bed, Cecilia Ye returned to her room.

She glanced at the two balloons at the foot of her bed and couldn’t help thinking of Fu Zhiyé.

She wondered how seriously Vivian Belle was hurt.

Would Fu Zhiyé stay with her all night, again?

What to do, Fu Zhiyé... Maybe I really should go far, far away. Maybe if I didn’t see you two together, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

Despite her heartache, after a day at the amusement park, exhaustion sent Cecilia Ye into sleep.

It was after midnight when her door quietly creaked open. Fu Zhiyé slipped inside.

He’d stopped by the office to get the painting he bought for Cecilia Ye’s birthday.

For all these years, he had never missed celebrating her birthday. At first, it was just pity for her childhood. But later, Grandpa Rivers and Grandma Rivers came to love her like family, and their affection drew him in too. It just became a habit.

The painting was splashed with flowers—not her favorite cottonrose hibiscus, but the artist was one Cecilia Ye adored.

Leaning the artwork against her desk, Fu Zhiyé glanced at the bed.

She’d fallen asleep without even changing her clothes.

Afraid of startling her, Fu Zhiyé gently called, "Cecilia, wake up and change into your pajamas."

But she was fast asleep—she just rolled over and mumbled, not waking up.

Resigned, Fu Zhiyé fetched her pajamas from the wardrobe and propped her against his chest.

It took quite an effort to change her, then he went to the bathroom to wet a towel and carefully wiped her face.

Finally, Cecilia Ye woke—just a little.

Seeing the person before her, she thought she must be dreaming.

With a sleepy blink, she reached out and poked the bridge of Fu Zhiyé’s nose.

"Why does it still feel warm in my dreams?"

Then her hand landed on his lips. Her heart tightened—isn’t this the mouth that’s kissed Vivian Belle too?

Annoyed by the thought, she pinched him.

"Fu Zhiyé, you’re so annoying," Cecilia Ye mumbled, eyes red as she stared at him for a moment, then drifted back to sleep.

Fu Zhiyé knew she was feeling hurt and wronged.

But... he just couldn’t bring himself to turn his back on Vivian Belle.