Shen Huaichuan opened the paper bag, inside was a thick plastic photo album with an elegant floral pattern on the cover, and several wooden photo frames of different sizes.
He glanced subconsciously at the area under the bed, where the old tin box that held so many of his memories lay. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something like, "No need to bother," or "It's fine to leave it there."
But before he could finish speaking, Zhou Qiqi stopped him with a look.
Zhou Qiqi tilted her head to look at him, her eyes filled with a hint of reproach, but the corners of her mouth were slightly upturned, the meaning of which was all too clear—listen to me on this matter.
He smiled helplessly, resignedly put down the towel, and bent down to drag the cookie box out from under the bed.
The two sat side by side on the edge of the bed.
Shen Huaichuan carefully opened the clasp and lifted the lid of the box.
A unique scent, a mixture of old paper, rust, and mothballs, wafted out faintly.
He moved gently, as if handling fragile treasures, taking out one by one the old black-and-white photographs that were neatly arranged in old envelopes with their edges smoothed out.
Zhou Qiqi picked up the photo album and flipped through the hard plastic inner pages.
Shen Huaichuan handed her a sheet, which she carefully embedded in the transparent film interlayer.
From drooling toddlers in open-crotch pants to stubborn teenagers in sailor shirts, and then to those solitary figures after the photos abruptly ended... Time flows slowly through the silent passage of fingertips.
Looking at these old photos that had been properly settled in their new homes, Shen Huaichuan's eyes were filled with complex emotions, a mixture of nostalgia and a sense of relief.
"This one,"
Zhou Qiqi picked up a family photo—
In the photo, Shen's parents sit in the middle, with three boys standing behind them. Shen Huaichuan is the youngest, his lips are pursed, but his eyes are bright.
"Shall we put it in this frame and on the bedside table?"
She chose a wooden photo frame that was the right size.
Shen Huaichuan did not object, silently took the photo, carefully inserted it into the slot of the frame, and then fastened the back panel.
When he placed this little "home" steadily on the bedside table, the dim light of the lamp enveloped the smiles of everyone in the photo, seemingly injecting a long-lost warmth into his cold heart.
Zhou Qiqi looked at the photo frame with satisfaction, then flipped through the thick photo album, which was less than half full, and muttered:
"It's still too big, such a huge book."
Shen Huaichuan was about to close the biscuit box when he heard this and paused.
Looking at Zhou Qiqi's gentle face and wet hair under the lamplight, a thought suddenly became clear to him.
"Sunday, the day after tomorrow,"
He spoke, his voice carrying a barely perceptible hint of anticipation, "Shall we take Zhouzhou to a photo studio in town?"
Zhou Qiqi looked up at him.
"Take a family photo,"
Shen Huaichuan's gaze fell on the old family photo on the bedside table, then returned to Zhou Qiqi's face.
"The three of us. Let me take another one of you and me alone."
He paused, his voice lowering.
"It seems like we don't even have a proper group photo."
He picked up the mostly empty photo album and shook it.
"It'll fill it up perfectly. I can also send a copy to my parents in the nursing home in advance so they... can be prepared."
Zhou Qiqi felt a warmth in her heart, understanding his intention.
She smiled and nodded: "Okay!"
Shen Huaichuan then bent down, preparing to stuff the cookie box he had tidied up back under the bed.
Just as he picked up the box, Zhou Qiqi noticed with her sharp eyes that at the very bottom of the box, a corner of a neatly folded, brightly colored handkerchief was peeking out.
It was clearly not one of those old things; there seemed to be something wrapped inside.
"Huh? What's that?"
Zhou Qiqi leaned forward curiously, reaching out to take it. "What's wrapped in the handkerchief?"
Shen Huaichuan's movements suddenly froze. Almost reflexively, he pressed the box down to block her hand, his tone slightly unnatural:
"It's nothing, just... some old stuff, not worth looking at."
His eyes flickered, avoiding Zhou Qiqi's probing gaze.
Zhou Qiqi felt even stranger and was about to ask further when Shen Huaichuan suddenly leaned over.
The kiss, carrying the refreshing scent of a recent shower, tinged with an unspoken urgency and a hint of barely perceptible panic, silenced all her unspoken questions.
The kiss came suddenly and passionately, with a scorching heat that instantly disrupted Zhou Qiqi's thoughts.
"Hmm..."
She mumbled a protest, but Shen Huaichuan kissed her even deeper.
He put one arm around her waist and pulled her towards him, while using his other hand to subtly push the cookie box deeper under the bed.
Zhou Qiqi was breathless from his kiss, and the little curiosity she had about the handkerchief was shattered by this sudden intimacy.
He deepened the kiss, pulling her step by step backward until they fell onto the soft bed behind them.
The lamp's halo was cut into blurry spots of light by the swaying shadows, dancing on the wall.
That "mysterious" handkerchief bundle was completely forgotten in the shadows under the bed.
As night deepened, only the increasingly heavy breathing and suppressed murmurs remained in the room.
The photo album lay quietly on the bedside table, the smiles of the family in the new photo frame looking especially peaceful under the warm yellow light.
The moonlight from outside the window quietly peeked in, gently covering this deep and unyielding affection.
Although Zhou Qiqi was fooled that night, she kept thinking about it.
She woke up the next morning just as dawn was breaking.
They crept quietly under the bed like thieves, searching for the thieves.
The moment my fingertips touched the cold metal lid, I noticed that the box was in a noticeably different position.
When you lift it up, the bottom layer is empty; the neatly folded handkerchief, along with what was inside, has vanished.
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