Song Ying turned her head. Julian Jarvis had always been gentle and polite with everyone, but there was always a hint of distance behind his smile.

“It’s a bit hot inside. Why did you come out too?”

Julian Jarvis smiled and released her wrist. “It was getting a little rowdy. You shouldn’t drink too much.”

The spot where he’d grabbed her wrist felt a little warm. Song Ying let out a slow breath, brushing away her momentary discomfort, and replaced it with a smile.

“What’s with the mood? Sending your little sister off to marry?”

Julian Jarvis shrugged and joked, “Like watching fresh cabbage being snatched up by a pig.” (He’s referencing a common phrase for marrying off a good girl.)

Song Ying laughed. “Don’t worry too much. Charles Chase really cares about Yaoyao. Every time he visits, he’s always by her side.”

“Yeah, I know. So you also knew Yaoyao was pregnant, and yet no one told me.”

Song Ying raised an eyebrow. “You only just found out?”

“Yeah, just yesterday.”

“The baby’s healthy, and Yaoyao is doing great. Actually, having a baby earlier makes it easier for her to recover.” When talking about her profession, Song Ying became serious as always.

Julian Jarvis looked at her. She had always been like this—conscientious and diligent in her studies, always doing as the teachers asked, even pulling all-nighters to finish endless piles of homework.

Song Ying kept her head down, her slender, pale fingers picking at the green leaves in her bouquet. With Julian Jarvis’s presence so close, her thoughts scattered.

All these years, she’d never dated anyone. She wasn’t sure if someone’s heart had a fixed capacity—if it could only hold one person at a time. As long as the person inside wouldn’t leave, there’d be no room for anyone else.

A chill breeze drifted by, and the wine in her system hit her harder in the cold air. Song Ying raised her head and looked at Julian Jarvis. The young man’s profile was half-draped in darkness, the other half caught in the soft golden glow of a lamp.

His high nose bridge was striking, and his eyes—shaped like peach blossoms—curved slightly when he smiled. When he looked at you, he always seemed deeply affectionate, even if it was just an illusion.

“Julian Jarvis…”

Song Ying’s voice was very soft, floating on the breeze to Julian Jarvis’s ear, as if it could be scattered by the wind at any moment.

Julian Jarvis turned to look at her. Compared to Mia Moore and the others, Song Ying was always the intellectual, the mature one. But at this moment, he saw the uneasiness of a little girl in her eyes.

“What is it?”

His voice was gentle, but carried a hint of hoarseness. His peach-blossom eyes were focused entirely on her.

“Do you still have the letter I gave you back then?”

……

That year, under the stairs, the girl had shyly handed him a little letter, carefully folded into a heart shape and tucked inside a pink envelope.

It was still there, always kept in a little box in his room.

He’d thought it precious once, so he’d never thrown it away.

He’d been drawn to others before, but during his months abroad, he realized that sometimes wanting to protect someone wasn’t the same as truly liking them. Maybe he had liked her, cared about her, but those feelings had passed.

“I still have it...”

“Oh.”

She pinched the corner of her shirt—a tiny gesture that made Julian Jarvis see her as that little girl once again: anxious, flustered, yet still giving herself a pep talk to confess what was in her heart.

“So... do you want to be in a relationship now?”

Julian Jarvis found his breath catching. He opened his mouth, but for the first time, nothing came out.

“If you’re still not interested, then give the letter back to me.”

Her pale hand reached out to him. Song Ying’s face was tinged with the faint blush of wine, her eyes rimmed red.

She didn’t want to wait anymore. She wanted an answer. If it was still nothing, maybe it was time to start a new life—a new romance, or anything really, just to finally clear out her heart.

“If you gave something to me, why would you want it back?”

Julian Jarvis’s gaze was calm. In his mind, what was given to him was his to keep.

“Didn’t you already reject me?”

Song Ying curved her lips into a subtle smile, trying to seem nonchalant—but failed spectacularly.

“Then give it back to me. Otherwise, I’ll think the only reason you’ve kept it this long is because you wanted to.”

Their eyes met. The air seemed to freeze. After a long silence, Julian Jarvis let out a small laugh. “All right, but I don’t have it on me. Want to come by my place tomorrow to get it? Or I can deliver it to you?”

“I’ll come get it.”

Song Ying bit her lip. Of course—he didn’t like her after all. The letter was probably just forgotten somewhere at home.

Adults’ feelings always seemed so subtle; a few sentences were enough to get the message across without anyone losing face.

The wine in her cup caught the light as she raised it and drained the last mouthful, then steadied herself by grabbing the back of the bench and stood up.

Julian Jarvis reached out as if to help, but she took a small step back with a smile.

“I’m heading back in. Let Yaoyao know for me, would you?”

She hugged her bouquet, handed her glass to a nearby servant in the garden, and slowly walked away.

Her skirt swayed in the wind. Julian Jarvis pinched his fingers together, trying to force himself not to think about that fleeting hint of tears in the girl's eyes.

He realized she was tipsy and wouldn’t be able to drive. He got up and went after her.

“Song Ying, how are you getting home?”

With his long legs, he caught up to her in no time.

“Hmm, I’ll call a cab, or maybe ask a friend to come pick me up.”

Just then, her phone rang. Song Ying glanced at it—it was a call from Fu Sen.

He was on duty today, so he hadn’t been able to come to the wedding, but he had said he could pick her up once his shift ended.

Song Ying declined, but this kid never listened—definitely going through a rebellious phase.

With Fu Sen’s name flashing on the screen, Julian Jarvis couldn’t help but notice. His eyes flashed with a trace of coolness as he reached out, took Song Ying’s phone, and hung up.

……

“What are you doing—hey!”

For someone usually so courteous and polite, this move caught Song Ying off guard. She stared at the now-dark phone screen, momentarily confused.

Julian Jarvis tossed her phone back in her bag and grabbed her by the wrist. “Come on. Didn’t you say you wanted your letter back? Let’s go get it now.”

He’d spent the afternoon hosting his sister’s wedding guests, so he hadn’t had much to drink. Now, turning toward the underground parking lot, he led Song Ying along.

He bundled her into the car and drove towards his place.

As the car started up, Song Ying was still at a loss. Hadn’t she been about to go home? How did she suddenly end up with Julian Jarvis, headed to his place?

So, did he have some kind of epiphany and now couldn’t wait to return the letter?

She gave a self-deprecating smile, her tear-filled eyes gazing out the window.

……

Back at the Chase family’s old house.

Mia Moore, after a short rest, had finally changed into her gown and came downstairs arm-in-arm with Charles Chase.

The guests broke into quiet teasing and laughter as the newlyweds appeared.

Charles Chase smiled and joined the crowd, never turning down a glass of celebratory wine.

Mia Moore looked around but didn’t see Julian Jarvis. She’d been planning to ask him to look after Song Ying for her, since she was busy herself and fortunately had Fu Zhiyan to help.

She pulled over a passing servant. The servant smiled. “Madam, what can I help you with?”

The title startled Mia Moore for a moment, but she still asked, “Where’s my brother? Where did Julian Jarvis go?”

The servant, who’d been serving drinks in the garden, answered seriously, “Mr. Jiang chased after a young lady outside.”

“A young... lady?”

“Yes, the one with the bouquet.”

“Oh, it’s nothing then, you can get back to work.”

The lady with the bouquet could only be Song Ying. Mia Moore raised an eyebrow—she couldn’t help but catch a whiff of gossip in the air.