Chapter 17 Try to Understand

The old house's study was filled with the scent of old wood and aged paper. The afternoon sun of late autumn slanted in through the carved wooden window, casting dappled shadows on the mahogany desk. On the desk sat a set of purple clay teaware; the tea, golden in color, emitted wisps of steam that swirled gently in the light.

Huo Yanli sat in the armchair opposite the desk, his back ramrod straight, but there was a hint of fatigue in his expression. He had just finished a cross-border merger and acquisition negotiation that lasted until the early hours of the morning. His suit jacket was draped over the back of the chair, and the cuffs of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his well-defined forearms.

Grandpa Huo sat in a wicker chair behind his desk, a navy blue cashmere cardigan draped over his shoulders. His health had fluctuated over the past two years, but his spirits remained high, his eyes still sharp, like two flickering embers that refused to be extinguished. At this moment, he was quietly observing his grandson across from him with those worldly-wise eyes.

"That girl Zhiyi," the old man said, his voice a little hoarse but his words clear, "shouldn't she be back by now?"

Huo Yanli paused slightly as he picked up his teacup: "It should be. My two-year assignment abroad is up."

"Hmm." The old man nodded, picked up his teacup, and blew on it to warm it. "You're back. What are your plans?"

"Plans?" Huo Yanli took a sip of tea, the tea slightly bitter with a sweet aftertaste. "She'll go back to work at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and I'll be busy with company matters. Same as before."

The old man put down his teacup, the porcelain clinking together with a crisp sound. He stared at Huo Yanli, his gaze piercing: "I'm asking, what are your plans, you two?"

The study fell silent for a moment. Sparrows chirped in the old locust tree outside the window, their sounds coming through the windowpane with exceptional clarity.

Huo Yanli put down his teacup and said calmly, "Grandpa, we made a five-year agreement before we got married. Only two years have passed so far, there are still three years left."

"A five-year agreement..." The old man repeated the phrase, a complex expression on his aged face, a mixture of helplessness and disappointment. "Yanli, do you really think that marriage can be agreed upon in terms of years?"

Huo Yanli's fingers traced the rim of the teacup, his fingertips feeling the warm, smooth texture of the purple clay. He remained silent for a few seconds before speaking: "This marriage was never based on love. You know that better than I do."

“I know.” The old man nodded, then shook his head. “What I know is that your Grandpa Song took that bullet for me on the battlefield, bleeding profusely, and still smiled and said, ‘Old Huo, you owe me your life.’ What I know is that we swore in the trenches that if we both came back alive, we would become in-laws if we had children. What I know is… when your Grandpa Song passed away, the thing he couldn’t let go of the most was that child, Zhiyi.”

The old man's voice lowered, carrying the weight of years: "I know you're unhappy that I'm pressuring you like this. Your parents are also unhappy because they think the Song family is of low social standing and not good enough for our family. As for Zhiyi, she agreed to get married to fulfill her grandfather's last wish, but she may not be happy about it."

He raised his eyes and looked at Huo Yanli's face: "But Yanli, there are some things in this world that you can't decide just by being happy or unhappy. Some responsibilities, some feelings, some... fate, when they come, you can't escape them."

Huo Yanli remained silent. He gazed at the tea leaves floating in his cup, his thoughts drifting away.

In the past two years, he has pieced together an increasingly clear picture of Song Zhiyi from the old man's words, from occasional rumors, and from the information he obtained by chance—the woman who calmly negotiated amidst the flames of war, the woman who carefully considered her words at the negotiating table, the woman who saved people, won awards, but never took the initiative to contact him.

He admitted that she was not what he had imagined.

But this "difference" was not enough to change his characterization of the marriage.

“Grandpa,” he began, his voice steady, “I understand what you mean. But matters of the heart can’t be forced. Song Zhiyi and I… we’ve barely met, and we’ve barely exchanged a few words. What do you expect of us? To live like a normal married couple?”

The old man sighed: "I didn't expect you two to be deeply in love from the start. But at least... at least you should have tried to understand her. Try to care about her. That girl spent two years alone in a war-torn region. Do you know what that place is like? A hail of bullets, a constant state of uncertainty. When she came back, you didn't even ask her a single question?"

Huo Yanli's Adam's apple bobbed.

He wanted to say that she didn't need his concern. She wanted to say that she probably didn't care whether he asked or not.

But the words stuck in his throat.