He thoughtfully opened the door for her. The action was both strange and familiar, and the unspoken understanding between them naturally made the atmosphere between them more intimate.
It was as if they had never been apart for such a long time, and they had always been like this.
Once in the car, Song Xingyao couldn't help but ask him again to confirm.
"Is An Ye really alright?"
The man in the driver's seat chuckled, "Didn't you say you trusted me?"
"I...I believe it, I just keep feeling uneasy, like something's about to happen..."
He placed his hand on Song Xingyao's hand, "Trust me, nothing will happen."
The warmth of the man's palm calmed her down a bit.
As the car drove on, it left the city. The strangely familiar route and the unfamiliar scenery outside the window made Song Xingyao a little confused.
The man beside him remained mysterious and offered no explanation.
Song Xingyao figured he wouldn't sell her out, so she simply leaned back in her seat to relax and ease the tension that had gripped her all day.
As the car drove deeper into the city, Song Xingyao realized with a start that he had taken her to Pinglan's private restaurant.
He stopped the car and saw that Song Xingyao was still sitting in her seat in a daze, so he leaned over and unbuckled her seatbelt.
"Why are you just sitting there like an idiot? Get out of the car and have some food."
Pinglan has not undergone any major renovations. It was originally a place for quiet contemplation and recuperation, and not many people visit it.
Song Xingyao got out of the car, looked around, and then followed them inside.
Pinglan was carrying out a plate of exquisite dishes when she saw Song Xingyao. She quickly took out a wet wipe to wipe her hands and rushed over.
"Yaoyao, you're finally back! Come, sit down! I'm so happy to hear from A-Ming that you're back!"
Pinglan's appearance hasn't changed much from four years ago; it's clear that proper care and love have kept her vibrant.
Song Xingyao was somewhat speechless.
At the dinner table, as before, it was mostly Pinglan criticizing Fu Siming, while she quietly ate her meal.
Hearing Pinglan say, "For a while, A-Ming came to my place every day to learn how to make your favorite braised pork. I thought you had come back back then!"
She cast a surprised look at Fu Siming, who remained silent.
It was as if his deepest secret had been exposed by someone else, but who was Fu Siming? How could he feel embarrassed about something like this?
Song Xingyao easily caught his feigned relaxed demeanor.
Seeing someone who had been on par with Pinglan suddenly lose, a chord in my heart was gently plucked.
After the meal, the two men cleaned up as usual, while Pinglan took Song Xingyao for a walk in the garden.
"Aunt Ping, you just said that Fu Siming came over to learn how to cook from you?" Song Xingyao couldn't help but ask her.
Pinglan didn't correct her when she heard how she addressed her; she just smiled.
“Yes, during that time, I had just heard from your Uncle Qin that you had gone missing and was worried about A-Ming’s condition. But he acted as if nothing had happened. He would go home to see Xunzhi every day after work, and then come to my place every few days to learn how to cook. I even joked with your Uncle Qin that he had the potential to retire and become a stay-at-home husband.”
Her voice was very gentle, and Song Xingyao did not interrupt her.
"He doesn't know how to cook. When he first came, he got a blister on his hand from splattering oil while making caramelized sugar. It was heartbreaking to see, but he refused to give up no matter what. Later, he actually managed to cook quite well."
She looked at Song Xingyao and said, "He said that he has disappointed you so many times. This is what he promised you when you were in love with Xunzhi. If he can't keep his promise, you probably won't forgive him. He doesn't want to disappoint you anymore."
Pinglan's gentle voice, however, was like a sharp blade, slicing through the veil that concealed the old stories.
A long gash appeared brazenly in front of Song Xingyao.
The two stopped on the cobblestone path, where the colorful flowers that had surrounded them four years ago were no longer the same.
The outfit looks like it's been professionally groomed, but there are still some jarring colors occasionally.
"This garden was also designed by your Uncle Qin, didn't you expect that?"
Song Xingyao stood there, and heard her voice coming from beside her ear, interrupting Song Xingyao's memories.
"Four years is enough time for someone who knows nothing about gardening to learn to be a gardener, but how many four-year periods does a person have in their lifetime, Yao Yao?"
Seeing that Song Xingyao was standing still, she went around in circles and used a long pair of scissors to cut off the orange-red flower buds in the pink flower field.
He then stood back beside Song Xingyao.
"Look, doesn't it look much better now? We can work on the things that don't look right away, but if you hadn't come, you would have missed out on this beautiful scenery today."
I stared at the two bright orange-red spots next to the scissors.
Song Xingyao just felt that they were a bit jarring.
Things I thought I no longer cared about, are actually quite glaring when you look closely.
Before heading down the mountain, Pinglan packed a lot of pastries she had made and put them in the car for the two of them.
Inside the car, Fu Siming noticed that Tong Pinglan had been silent ever since she returned from the garden.
When the car reached the fork in the road, Song Xingyao suddenly spoke.
"Go to the right."
Fu Siming obediently followed her until the car stopped in an open space.
He quickly realized that he had prepared a grand fireworks display here, a surprise that was one of the few times in Fu Siming's life.
After the fireworks display, Fu Siming revealed herself, and Fu Xunzhi became involved with her.
At least the memories here are not bad, that's what Song Xingyao thought.
"Fu Siming, do you know? That fireworks display was the most beautiful I've ever seen. In the past four years, I haven't seen anything more beautiful."
Fu Siming looked down at her. Her hair was a little messy from the evening breeze, and then she reached out and pressed it down.
“When I returned to Jiangcheng, I felt that I no longer cared about those things, Fu Yao? And the sight of you leaving at crucial moments time and time again.”
Her words struck me like a heavy blow to the heart.
"But I realized today that those images are still so glaring, still so vivid in my memory. But when I think about leaving, I can't bear to go. Fu Siming? What should I do?"
Looking into her deep eyes and her yearning for answers.
Fu Siming pulled the man into his arms, his silent tears soaking his shirt.
With a loud bang, the woman in his arms flinched at the noise, pulled away from him, and turned her head to look.
A colorful light burst forth from the pitch-black night sky, reflecting in her sparkling eyes.
Fu Siming turned her head to look at himself.
He bent down and kissed away the tear stains at the corner of her eyes.
"Song Xingyao, it's always been just you. I'm late. Whether it's in the cabin or any other time, I'm always late. I'm sorry."
Song Xingyao's eyes widened as fireworks exploded behind her, but both the sound and the visuals became less clear.
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