“Oh, right,” Su Man said as if she suddenly remembered something, taking her phone out of her bag, “I’ll show you their photos.”

Zhong Hua's gaze fell on the screen. In the photo, Lin Wanqing stood at the gallery entrance, wearing a beige coat and holding a pot of hydrangeas, her eyes crinkling with a smile. Ah Yu stood beside her, wearing a black turtleneck sweater, bending down to brush fallen leaves from Lin Wanqing's shoulder, her profile as gentle as a pool of spring water. In the background, the words "Love and Freedom" shimmered in the sunlight on the gallery's glass window.

"That's nice," Zhong Hua said softly, his fingertips subtly clenching his trousers to create wrinkles.

Su Man put away her phone, looked at him and said, "Wanqing asked about you. She said you won the gold medal in the architectural design competition back then, and she has always been proud of you."

Zhong Hua's eyes suddenly welled up with tears. He remembered how, back in college, Lin Wanqing would always huddle beside his drawing board, watching him draw his designs. She would say, "Zhong Hua, there's light in your drawings." Back then, he vowed to design the warmest house for her to live in for the rest of her life.

"I..." He opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say. Over the years, he had indeed achieved some success. He bought a house in Shanghai, started his own design company, and had people who showed interest in him. But he always felt empty inside, as if a piece of the puzzle was missing.

“Actually,” Su Man sighed softly, “when Wanqing left, she cried all night. She said she knew you couldn’t let go of your career here, so she didn’t dare let you go with her.” She paused, “Some people and some things, once missed, are missed forever. But seeing each other doing well is enough.”

Zhong Hua nodded, picked up the lemonade on the table, and drank it all in one gulp. The sour taste spread from the tip of his tongue to the bottom of his heart, yet strangely, it brought a sense of relief. He remembered last winter, in the kindergarten he had designed, seeing the children running in the sunlight, their laughter as clear and crisp as silver bells. At that moment, he suddenly understood that true fulfillment wasn't necessarily about being together every day; it could also be about each person being well.

"Thank you for telling me all this." Zhong Hua stood up and straightened his trench coat. "I have other things to attend to, so I'll take my leave now."

“Okay,” Su Man stood up as well, “Keep in touch when you have time.”

As he stepped out of the coffee shop, the wind suddenly picked up, swirling fallen leaves into the air. Zhong Hua pulled his trench coat tighter, his steps becoming lighter. He took out his phone, scrolled to a long-forgotten number in his contacts, hesitated for a moment, but ultimately didn't dial it.

At the entrance of the flower shop on the street corner, a pot of hydrangeas in full bloom stood. Zhong Hua stopped and asked the owner for one. Water droplets still clung to the pale blue petals, making it look like a tiny patch of sky against the overcast backdrop.

He recalled what Su Man had said: Lin Wanqing's gallery was filled with hydrangeas. It turns out that some things you like can truly be hidden in time, blooming again even after years have passed.

Holding the flowers, Zhong Hua walked resolutely towards the subway station. The sunlight finally broke through the clouds, casting a long shadow behind him. In the distance, the laughter of children drifted up, clear and bright, much like the words Lin Wanqing had said to him in the art studio many years ago: "Zhong Hua, the future will definitely be bright."

Yes, the future will definitely be bright. Whether it's them in Paris or myself in Shanghai. Some encounters are for companionship, some farewells are for fulfillment. And those cherished memories hidden in our hearts will eventually transform into a warm and bright light illuminating the road ahead.