Chapter 67 The Aunt's Thanksgiving Feast

On Saturday evening, Huo Yanli's car was parked again downstairs at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs dormitory building. Winter days in Beijing are short; just past six o'clock, dusk had completely enveloped the streets, and the streetlights glowed a warm yellow light in the deepening night.

Song Zhiyi appeared at the building entrance on time. She wasn't wearing formal attire today, but rather a simple off-white knit sweater paired with dark gray trousers, and a khaki trench coat over it. Her hair was loosely tied back, her face was lightly made up, and she was carrying a paper bag.

When Huo Yanli got out of the car to open the door for her, he smelled a faint scent of Chinese herbal medicine wafting from the paper bag.

"These are for Aunt Ji." Song Zhiyi explained as she got into the car, "They're medicinal herbs for regulating cardiovascular health. I prescribed them according to her constitution, and they've already been packaged into a week's supply."

"You're always so thoughtful." Huo Yanli started the car and drove into the evening rush hour traffic.

“Of course.” Song Zhiyi looked out the window. “The recovery period after a heart attack is very important. Medicinal diet therapy combined with appropriate exercise can minimize the aftereffects.”

Her tone was professional and calm, as if she were stating a piece of medical common sense. Huo Yanli looked at her in the rearview mirror and noticed a faint shadow under her eyelids—the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had an important international conference recently, and she must have been working overtime again.

"Are you very busy lately?" he asked.

"It's alright." Song Zhiyi paused. "There's a Middle East peace forum next week, and I need to prepare quite a lot of materials."

It was work again. Huo Yanli found himself gradually getting used to this conversation pattern—she always talked about work, medicine, or those things he considered "big" matters. She almost never mentioned life, relationships, or herself.

The car moved slowly through the traffic. The cabin fell silent for a moment, broken only by the occasional sound of the navigation system providing traffic updates.

"Ji Yun's mother insisted on holding this thank-you banquet." Huo Yanli broke the silence. "She said that a life-saving debt cannot be repaid with just words of thanks."

Song Zhiyi nodded slightly: "Aunt Ji, you're too kind. Anyone who knows first aid would have done the same thing in that situation."

“But not everyone does it as well as you,” Huo Yanli said. “Emergency doctors all praised your professionalism.”

Song Zhiyi didn't reply, but just looked at the car lights flowing outside the window. The red taillights stretched out in a line, like a slowly flowing river in the night.

Twenty minutes later, the car entered the villa area where the Ji family lived. The Ji family's house was not as grand as the Huo family's ancestral home, but the courtyard was very well maintained, and the chrysanthemums were in full bloom, swaying gracefully under the lights.

Ji Yun was already waiting at the door. Upon seeing their car, he quickly walked over.

"Yanli! Miss Song!" Ji Yun's smile was sincere and warm. "Please come in! My mother has been busy since this afternoon, insisting on cooking a few of her signature dishes herself."

“Aunt Ji has just recovered, she shouldn’t be working so hard,” Song Zhiyi said.

"I can't persuade her otherwise," Ji Yun shook her head. "She said she absolutely has to let you try her cooking, otherwise she'll feel guilty."

The three entered the living room. The Ji family's decor was warm and elegant, unlike the Huo family's solemn style. There were many family photos on the walls—a photo of Ji Yun and his parents, a photo of Ji Yun during his student days, and a photo of Ji's father in his military uniform when he was young.

Ji's mother came out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a spatula. Upon seeing Song Zhiyi, she immediately put down what she was holding, quickly walked over, and took Song Zhiyi's hand.

"Zhiyi's here!" Mrs. Ji's eyes were a little moist. "Auntie has always wanted to thank you properly. If it weren't for you that day..."

"Auntie, you're too kind." Song Zhiyi grasped her hand in return. "Your good recovery is more important than anything else. I brought you some medicinal herbs to help you recover, and I've written down the instructions for use."

As she spoke, she took out several small medicine packets and a neatly written instruction sheet from the paper bag.

Mother Ji took it, her eyes reddening even more: "You child... you saved my life, and you still remember me so fondly..."

"Mom, please don't get agitated." Ji Yun quickly supported his mother. "The doctor said you need to keep your emotions stable."

"Yes, yes, don't get excited." Mother Ji wiped her eyes and smiled. "Come on, the dishes are all ready, let's eat!"

Inside the restaurant, the round table was laden with home-style dishes—braised pork ribs, steamed fish, blanched bok choy, yam and chicken soup, and several delicate cold dishes. There was no extravagance of a hotel banquet, but every dish was made with care.

“Zhiyi, I didn’t know what you liked to eat, so I made it like a Beijing home-style dish.” Ji’s mother pulled Song Zhiyi to sit next to her. “Try this spare rib. It’s the way I made it back in my hometown in Northeast China.”

"Thank you, Auntie." Song Zhiyi picked up a piece, tasted it carefully, and nodded. "It's delicious, cooked to perfection."

Her praise was sincere, without any deliberate flattery. Upon hearing this, Madam Ji's smile deepened.

Mr. Ji was also home today. He was a middle-aged man of few words, with a calm and composed demeanor. He poured Song Zhiyi a cup of tea: "Miss Song, on behalf of my whole family, I would like to express my sincere gratitude to you. We will never forget your life-saving kindness."

"Uncle Ji, you flatter me." Song Zhiyi picked up her teacup. "It is a doctor's duty to save lives."

“But you weren’t acting as a doctor,” Mr. Ji said earnestly. “You acted out of conscience and a sense of responsibility. Of all the people present that day, you were the only one who stood up. Not everyone has that kind of courage.”

Song Zhiyi was silent for a moment, then said softly, "I just did what I was supposed to do."

Ji Yun raised his glass: "Miss Song, I toast you. I apologize for the misunderstanding I had with you before. From now on, you are not only Yanli's wife, but also someone I, Ji Yun, respect."

He spoke with great seriousness. Huo Yanli watched this scene, his heart filled with mixed emotions—Ji Yun was one of his best friends, he knew Ji Yun well, and he knew that Ji Yun would never say such things lightly.

"Thank you." Song Zhiyi toasted Ji Yun with tea instead of wine.

The meal was very warm and intimate. Mrs. Ji kept serving Song Zhiyi food, asking about her work and life, her tone full of elder's concern. Song Zhiyi answered each question respectfully and naturally.

"Zhiyi, you work at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, so you must travel abroad frequently, right?" Ji's mother asked.

"Yes, I'll go out when there are overseas assignments."

"I heard you've been to many war-torn regions?" Uncle Ji joined the conversation. "Those places must be very dangerous."

Song Zhiyi paused, her tone remaining calm: "It's necessary for work, you'll get used to it."

She didn't elaborate on the details of the battlefield, but her parents sensed the hardship behind her seemingly casual tone. They exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with heartache.

After dinner, Ji's mother pulled Song Zhiyi aside to talk in the living room, while Ji Yun and Huo Yanli went to the study.

In the study, Ji Yun poured Huo Yanli a glass of whiskey.

"See?" Ji Yun gestured towards the living room. "My mom talks about Song Zhiyi more affectionately than she talks about me now."

Huo Yanli took the wine glass but did not drink it.

“Yanli,” Ji Yun sat down opposite him, her tone serious, “I’m serious, you got a good wife.”

Huo Yanli looked up at him.

“I’m not joking,” Ji Yun said. “Look at her today. When my parents expressed their gratitude, she didn’t take credit or act pretentiously. She just accepted it calmly and then naturally asked about my mother’s health. Not everyone has this kind of sense of propriety.”

“She’s always been like this,” Huo Yanli said.

“That’s why it’s even more precious.” Ji Yun took a sip of wine. “Do you know how I used to think of her? I thought she was the kind of woman who climbed into the Huo family through an agreement with her elders, quiet, unremarkable, and would leave after a few years with the divorce settlement.”

He paused, then laughed self-deprecatingly: "Looking back now, I was so damn shallow."

Huo Yanli didn't speak, but simply swirled the wine glass in his hand. The ice cubes clinked against the glass, making a crisp sound.

“What she has in her heart is different from ours,” Ji Yun continued. “We are always scheming about business, profits, and face, while she is scheming about how to save people, how to work, and how to fulfill the dreams that her parents did not complete.”

"Do you know about her parents?" Huo Yanli asked.

“I’ve done some research,” Ji Yun admitted. “Her father was a diplomat, and her mother was a peacekeeping doctor. They both died in a war zone when she was twelve. She was raised by her maternal grandfather, who was also a veteran and passed away a few years ago.”

Huo Yanli's fingers tightened. He knew all this, but hearing it from someone else felt different.

“So you see,” Ji Yun said, “she agreed to marry you, probably just to fulfill her grandfather’s last wish. As for the title of Mrs. Huo, the Huo family’s wealth… she probably doesn’t care at all.”

These words were like a needle, piercing the most sensitive spot in Huo Yanli's heart.

He knew Ji Yun was right. From the very beginning, Song Zhiyi had shown no interest in the Huo family's wealth. She lived in the company dormitory, didn't touch the money he gave her, didn't participate in the Huo family's social activities, and only appeared when necessary to fulfill the duties of "Mrs. Huo."

Then return to your own world.

That world with a Ministry of Foreign Affairs, field hospitals, and ideals and beliefs.

“Yanli,” Ji Yun’s voice lowered, “if you really only plan to divorce her in five years, then I advise you to make things clear to her as soon as possible. A woman like this shouldn’t be delayed.”

Huo Yanli raised his head: "What if I don't want a divorce?"

Ji Yun looked at him for a long time, then smiled: "Then you need to think clearly about what you want first. Is it because she makes you look good in front of your friends, or is it because... you've really fallen in love with her?"

The study fell silent. From the living room came the voices of Ji's mother and Song Zhiyi, with phrases like "take care of yourself" and "take your medicine on time" faintly audible.

Warm, homey, and authentic.

Huo Yanli suddenly recalled the night of the Huo family banquet, when Song Zhiyi knelt on the ground performing CPR. Sweat dripped from her forehead, and her arms trembled from the effort, but she didn't stop.

And just now at the dinner table, when she thanked Mr. and Mrs. Ji, she displayed a calm yet sincere attitude.

She is different in every scene, yet the same in every one—she is always Song Zhiyi. Determined, clear-headed, knowing who she is and what she wants to do.

"I don't know," Huo Yanli finally said, his voice a little hoarse, "but I'm starting to think that the five-year agreement might be the stupidest decision I've ever made."

Ji Yun patted him on the shoulder: "Take your time. But don't keep her waiting too long. A woman like this deserves to be treated seriously."

When the two returned to the living room, Song Zhiyi was teaching Ji's mother a few simple acupressure massage techniques.

“You can massage this Neiguan acupoint more often when you have nothing to do; it’s good for your heart.” She held Ji’s mother’s hand and patiently demonstrated, “Like this, press it with your thumb; you should feel a slight soreness and distension.”

Ji's mother studied very diligently, like an obedient student.

Seeing them come out, Song Zhiyi stood up: "It's getting late, I won't disturb your rest any longer."

"Sit a little longer," said Ji's mother, reluctant to let her go.

“You should rest now; heart patients need to get enough sleep,” Song Zhiyi said gently but firmly. “I’ll come see you again next week and bring you a new medicinal diet recipe.”

"Alright, alright, I'll wait for you then." Mother Ji held her hand. "Zhiyi, come often in the future, and treat this place as your own home."

"Thank you, Auntie."

It was past nine o'clock at night when I left the Ji family's house. The autumn night was even cooler, and there were sparse stars in the night sky.

As the car drove out of the villa area, Huo Yanli glanced at Song Zhiyi in the rearview mirror. She leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes, and looked visibly tired.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

“A little.” Song Zhiyi didn’t open her eyes. “I spent the whole day translating meeting materials.”

"Then rest for a while, I'll call you when we get there."

"good."

The carriage fell silent again. Huo Yanli turned up the air conditioning a little and dimmed the dashboard lights.

He recalled Ji Yun's words—"A woman like this deserves to be treated seriously."

He also wanted to take it seriously.

But he didn't know how to enter her world.

That world with battlefields, diplomatic negotiations, and medical ideals, but seemingly devoid of the concepts of "marriage" and "love."

The car drove smoothly through the night.

Huo Yanli knew that there were some questions he had to answer himself.

About the past, about the present, about the future.

About a woman named Song Zhiyi and his relationship.