Chapter 130 Side Story (Song Zhiyi and Huo Yanli): 5. The Plain Circle by Lake Geneva
In Geneva in spring, Lake Geneva is a clear gray-blue, reflecting the unmelted snow on the distant Alps and the large, fluffy clouds in the sky.
Climate negotiations entered a mid-session recess, a rare respite. Instead of staying in the office to work on documents as usual, Song Zhiyi took a walk alone along the lake. The warm sunshine and gentle breeze slowly relaxed her nerves, which had been tense for days.
She walked leisurely, her gaze sweeping over the shimmering lake, the playful swans, and the elderly people sunbathing on the lakeside benches. Then, her gaze stopped.
Huo Yanli sat casually on that familiar bench. He held a small bag of breadcrumbs in his hand, feeding the swans that had gathered around him. Sunlight shone on him, outlining his soft features, and his expression was relaxed, carrying a rare sense of ease.
He seemed to sense her gaze and turned around. Their eyes met, and a gentle smile spread across his eyes as he waved to her.
Song Zhiyi walked over and sat down next to him.
"Stealing half a day of leisure?" Huo Yanli sprinkled the last crumbs of bread onto the swan, clapped his hands, and turned to look at her.
"Hmm." Song Zhiyi breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in her chair, mimicking his posture. "It's rare that there are no urgent consultations or emails that require immediate replies."
"That's perfect." Huo Yanli stood up and naturally extended his hand to her. "I'll take you somewhere, it's not far."
Song Zhiyi looked at his outstretched palm, paused, and placed her hand on it. His hand was warm and dry, holding hers firmly, and with a gentle pull, she stood up.
He didn't let go immediately, but instead took her hand and walked slowly along the lakeside path. The warmth of their hands touching transmitted through their skin, and a simple yet comforting intimacy spread silently. Song Zhiyi let him lead her, her gaze falling on their steps, which sometimes moved in sync and sometimes out of sync, a sense of peace settling over her.
He didn't take her to any famous tourist attractions, but instead led her into a quiet cobblestone alley in the old town. At the end of the alley was a small shop with an old-fashioned facade and a rich aroma of coffee.
"This shop's hand-drip coffee and apple rolls are said to have a 70-year history, started by the owner's grandfather," Huo Yanli introduced in a low voice, leading her to a window seat with practiced ease.
The elderly shop owner, with gray hair and a checkered apron, greeted Huo Yanli with a smile, exchanging a few pleasantries with him in heavily accented English, clearly indicating he was a regular customer. Huo Yanli ordered two cups of hand-drip coffee and pointed to the golden, crispy apple rolls coated in a thick layer of cinnamon powder in the glass display case.
Neither of them spoke while waiting. Song Zhiyi rested her chin on her hand, watching the occasional pedestrians passing by in the alley outside the window. A plump orange cat dozed on the windowsill opposite. Huo Yanli, on the other hand, opened a guestbook on the table, filled with doodles and thoughts in various languages. He turned to a certain page, pointed with his finger, and gestured for Song Zhiyi to look.
The page had a passage written in Chinese: "Hoping for world peace, hoping coffee will always smell this good. —A passerby, autumn 2021."
His handwriting was neat and tidy, with a touch of genuine naiveté.
Song Zhiyi glanced at the words, then at Huo Yanli. He was looking at her, a faint smile in his eyes, as if sharing a little secret only they understood—about ideals, about the small joys of ordinary life.
The coffee and apple rolls were served. The coffee was rich and aromatic, the apple rolls were crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, sweet but not cloying, with just the right amount of cinnamon. Song Zhiyi took a bite and squinted her eyes in satisfaction.
"How is it?" Huo Yanli asked, cutting off the crispiest, most sugar-coated piece of his apple roll and placing it naturally on her plate.
"Very good." Song Zhiyi nodded, then scooped a spoonful of the creamy milk foam from her own cup and brought it to his lips. "Want to try some?"
Huo Yanli lowered his head and drank from her hand, looking at her intently, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly: "It's very sweet."
I don't know if they're talking about coffee or something else.
Song Zhiyi's ears burned slightly. She withdrew her hand and focused on the apple roll.
In the afternoon, they wandered aimlessly through the old town. Huo Yanli stopped at a used bookstall, flipping through an old picture book about Alpine plants. Song Zhiyi, on the other hand, was drawn to a uniquely shaped set of old keys in the window of an antique shop next door. They looked at their own things, occasionally glancing up, their eyes meeting briefly in the air, exchanging a smile, before looking back down. There was no deliberate clinging, yet an invisible bond connected them, relaxed and at ease.
As they crossed a small bridge, the wind picked up and ruffled Song Zhiyi's hair. Huo Yanli stopped, turned around, and naturally reached out to smooth her hair, his fingertips brushing against her earlobe. Then, he untied half of his soft cashmere scarf and wrapped it around Song Zhiyi's neck without a word.
"It's windy, don't catch a cold." His voice was close to my ear, carrying the lingering warmth from his scarf and his clean, crisp scent.
The scarf still carried his warmth, instantly enveloping her. Song Zhiyi didn't refuse, but simply buried her face in the soft cashmere and softly murmured "Mmm."
In the evening, they returned to the lakeside and found a restaurant terrace with a view of the sunset and the lake to dine.
As the waiter cleared away the main course, Huo Yanli took a small dark blue velvet box from his pocket, placed it on the table covered with a white tablecloth, and pushed it in front of her.
"Open it and take a look." His voice was steady, but his eyes were focused.
Song Zhiyi opened the box. Two extremely simple platinum band rings lay quietly on the black velvet. The rings were smooth and without any patterns, except that on the inside of the rings, under the light of the terrace, two letters were finely engraved—hers was "H" and his was "S".
She looked up at him.
“It’s not a constraint, nor a promise in the traditional sense.” Huo Yanli’s voice was deep and clear in the evening breeze. “It’s just a symbol. A reminder that no matter where in the world you are dealing with a crisis, or in which conference room I am negotiating, we are in each other’s ‘coordinates.’ We are comrades-in-arms, lovers, and the most special ‘connection point’ in our hearts. Are you willing to wear it?”
There was no kneeling, no flowery language. Only an explanation that was both extremely pragmatic and deeply moving. A symbol about "coordinates" and "connection points" perfectly captured their state of being separated for long periods but connected at heart.
Song Zhiyi looked into his eyes, which were filled with sincerity and anticipation, and then looked down at the plain ring. She said nothing, but simply extended her left hand and placed it flat on the white tablecloth.
A look of relief and deep love instantly welled up in Huo Yanli's eyes. He picked up the ring engraved with "H" and carefully, with great care, slipped it onto Song Zhiyi's left ring finger.
Then, he handed her another men's ring engraved with an "S". Song Zhiyi took it and, imitating him, carefully put the ring on the ring finger of his left hand.
Two hands, each wearing the same simple bracelet, gently clasped together on a table covered with a white tablecloth.
Song Zhiyi looked at their clasped hands, feeling the unfamiliar yet reassuring presence of the rings of skin around their fingers. She looked up into his deep eyes, a faint but genuine and gentle smile playing on her lips, and whispered:
"Huo Yanli, next time you see my colleague, you don't need to say 'I used to be married' anymore."
Huo Yanli was taken aback at first, then a huge surge of warmth, mixed with bittersweetness, rushed into his heart. He gripped her hand tightly, his fingertips intertwined with hers, and said in a low, slightly hoarse voice, "Okay."
At this moment, the evening breeze is gentle, the lake ripples softly, and the distant snow-capped mountains are serene. The world is vast and full of turmoil, but in this small corner, there are only them and the faint light between their fingers, symbolizing "online" and "home."
However, tranquility is always fleeting.
The next morning, Song Zhiyi had just finished breakfast with Huo Yanli at the hotel restaurant, sharing a croissant he had spread jam on for her, when her encrypted satellite phone began vibrating urgently. It was an urgent order from the Secretary-General's office: a serious armed conflict had broken out in a Central African country, causing a large number of civilians to be displaced, and the crisis was escalating; she was required to immediately lead a rapid assessment team to the front lines. The special plane took off an hour later.
The atmosphere froze instantly. Song Zhiyi put down her half-eaten croissant, immediately switching to work mode, calm and swift: "Understood, I'll prepare right away."
Huo Yanli also put down his coffee cup, the relaxed expression on his face fading, replaced by a serious look in his eyes. Without asking any further questions, he immediately stood up: "I'll help you."
Back in their room, the two tacitly divided the tasks. Song Zhiyi contacted her team members, reviewed the latest briefing, and confirmed the itinerary. Huo Yanli, on the other hand, opened her suitcase and began packing her belongings methodically.
"The medicine is in the outer side pocket, the satellite phone is fully charged, there's ginger tea in the thermos, and the chocolate is in the right pocket," he quickly explained, his voice steady as his hands moved swiftly. "Report your coordinates immediately upon landing. Mission assessment is important, but safety comes first, understand?"
"Understood." Song Zhiyi changed into khaki pants and a field jacket for easy movement, and neatly tied her long hair into a ponytail.
Everything was ready, and time was of the essence. Song Zhiyi slung her bag over her shoulder, walked to the door, and turned around.
Huo Yanli stood before her, gazing intently at her, his eyes swirling with worry, reluctance, and utter trust and support. A thousand words choked in his throat. He stepped forward and pulled her tightly into his embrace. His arms were drawn close, as if trying to meld her into his own body; his chin rested on the top of her head, his breathing heavy.
This embrace was brief yet powerful, infusing it with all the unfinished words of advice and concern.
A few seconds later, he released her, cupped her face in his hands, and gently and tenderly stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. His gaze was intense, looking into her eyes, and his voice was deep and solemn, each word distinct and serious:
"The ring is on,"
He paused, his tone as serious as if he were making a life-or-death promise:
"Don't lose it."
Song Zhiyi looked at her reflection clearly in his eyes, felt the warmth of his fingertips, and then looked down at the brand-new, slightly cool platinum bracelet on her left ring finger. A surge of emotion, a mixture of warmth and bittersweetness, rushed to her eyes.
She nodded vigorously, her throat slightly choked, and raised her hand to touch the same ring on his ring finger: "You too."
Then, without lingering, she tiptoed and planted a brief but firm kiss on his lips. She then turned, opened the door, and strode quickly towards the elevator. Her back was straight, her steps resolute, heading towards her battlefield.
Huo Yanli stood in the suddenly empty room, the air still seeming to hold her faint, cool fragrance. He slowly raised his left hand, and on his ring finger, the simple band ring that matched hers gleamed with a cool yet persistent light in the morning light streaming through the window.
He clenched his fist, feeling the metal ring firmly encircling the base of his fingers, like a silent anchor point.
Coordinates locked, connection established.
No matter what lies ahead, whether it be smoke of war or storms, he knew she would come back. Back to their shared "coordinates".
He will stay here, guarding this glimmer of light, waiting for his comrades and his loved ones to return safely.
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