newborn
Back in Beijing, life seemed to return to its old track. Li Fuqiang had assumed that with his mother gone, his biggest constraint, Zhiwei would likely ask him to break off the engagement so she could pursue her own true freedom. He had even prepared a plan to deal with it.
However, to his surprise, Zhiwei didn't mention a single word about divorce. She still lived in Yayuan and would still accompany him to events as "Mrs. Li" when necessary, her words and actions impeccable. It's just that she spent less time at Rongdi, and seemed to have devoted less energy to the "Wei Nian" design work.
She devoted more of her time to various charitable activities. Leveraging the reputation she gained from the "Pink Ribbon Initiative" and her status as Mrs. Li, she successfully became a board member of several influential charitable foundations. She was not keen on fundraising or giving speeches in the spotlight, but rather focused on behind-the-scenes work—meticulously reviewing project reports, rigorously evaluating the efficiency of fund utilization, patiently communicating and coordinating within the board, and skillfully connecting with wealthy wives who had substantial funds but were skeptical of charitable projects, guiding their goodwill to be put into practice.
It seemed that through these tedious and concrete tasks, she was searching for a new foothold, a new meaning for herself. Her mother's passing was like a crucial cornerstone of her life being removed, while her extensive involvement in charitable work seemed to be helping her rebuild her connection with the world. She tirelessly traveled between various projects, including those supporting education, medical care, and poverty alleviation, and the sadness in her eyes was gradually replaced by a calm and focused light.
Li Fuqiang observed coldly, feeling a mixture of confusion and a subtle sense of relief. He was pleased that she had found a way to both stay under his control and still be of value. He would occasionally inquire about her charity work and offer some resources, to which Zhiwei always expressed her gratitude politely. The two maintained a clearer and more stable "partnership" relationship than ever before.
Once, during a break at a charity gala, Li Fuqiang glanced at Zhiwei, who was speaking quietly with a foundation chairman not far away. The lines of her profile were soft yet firm. He suddenly remembered what Shen Ping had relayed to him after returning from Lijiang—that his wife had once heard someone sing "Returning Home" in Lijiang and wept uncontrollably.
"Return, return...the fields are overgrown with weeds, why not return?" Li Fuqiang murmured to himself, a subtle smile playing on his lips. He could roughly guess Zhiwei's state of mind at that time—a longing for freedom and a sense of belonging. But in the end, she did "return," choosing to remain in this exquisite and prosperous "cage," only finding a different way to settle her soul.
What he didn't know was that when Zhiwei reviewed countless applications for educational assistance for children in impoverished areas, coordinated donations of medical equipment to remote regions, and saw photos of girls who were able to study with peace of mind thanks to various "Pink Patch" programs, she felt a comfort that transcended personal joy and sorrow. Her mother's departure made her deeply aware of the fragility and impermanence of life, while helping others allowed her to grasp a tangible sense of existence in the midst of nothingness.
She neither completely "returned" nor truly "came back." She merely carved out a new world for herself within a predetermined framework. This world temporarily filled the void left by the loss of her loved ones and allowed her to see more possibilities beyond the identity of "Mrs. Li," possibilities that belonged to "Shen Zhiwei" herself. The road ahead remains uncertain, but at least she is still walking.
A year after her mother's passing, time seemed to have gradually smoothed the deepest sorrow between Zhiwei's brows, but that serenity had become even more ingrained in her bones. She continued to move between various charitable councils, like a meticulous and patient weaver, diligently weaving a network of kindness amidst the intricate web of human relationships and needs.
One spring afternoon, as one of the board members, she participated in a project review meeting for a foundation focused on educational equality. It was there that she first met Song Tianming.
He wore a clean, light blue shirt, stood tall and straight, and while not exceptionally handsome, his face possessed an untainted purity and sincerity. He was there to seek funding for a program to support girls' education in remote mountainous areas of western China. Standing before the projection screen, he recounted the plight of these girls facing the prospect of dropping out of school due to poverty and deeply ingrained prejudices, his eyes shining with an almost idealistic fervor. His PowerPoint presentation wasn't particularly elaborate, but the data was detailed and reliable, and the plan was clear and specific.
During the review meeting, other board members raised various practical questions: cost-effectiveness, sustainability, implementation risks… Tianming answered them one by one, neither humble nor arrogant. Occasionally, he was slightly at a loss for words due to his eagerness, but his sincerity was all the more touching. Ultimately, based on considerations of the overall budget allocation, the foundation failed to approve his funding application for this year.
After the meeting, Tianming couldn't hide his disappointment, but he still politely thanked the board members. As he tidied up his documents, his gaze inadvertently fell on Zhiwei, who was talking quietly with a foundation staff member. Today, she was wearing an elegant mauve suit, and her demeanor was composed and her insights clear. He mistakenly thought she was a senior executive of the foundation, admiring her competence and elegance, but also sensing the apology she conveyed as a representative of the foundation when informing him of the results.
Zhiwei noticed his gaze, and the mixture of admiration and frustration in it. A slight stirring ran through her heart, a long-lost emotion akin to a flutter of excitement. She could almost imagine the significance of such a project for the girl in the mountain area, and she could feel the pure strength emanating from the young man before her.
A few days later, a foundation staff member contacted Tianming, informing him that a board member had donated funds to his project in their personal capacity, hoping to support his continued work. Tianming expressed his desire to have the opportunity to regularly report on the progress and use of funds. The foundation staff member then provided him with an email address.
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