Chapter 127 Extra Chapter (Song Zhiyi and Huo Yanli): 2. No Longer Lonely
A few days later, Song Zhiyi took the initiative to suggest visiting the Huo family's old residence. Huo Yanli was somewhat surprised, but then understood that this was her way of facing the past and future with composure in her new identity.
Dinner was arranged at home. Huo's mother had clearly prepared carefully; the table was set with light and delicious home-style dishes, as well as two desserts that Song Zhiyi used to like. Huo Siqi was much more composed than before, but she couldn't help but light up when she saw Song Zhiyi, sitting next to her and chattering incessantly.
Huo's mother served Song Zhiyi some food and asked about her recent work situation (avoiding sensitive details), while also chatting about trivial matters at home. When Huo Yanli was mentioned, she would smile and say, "He's very opinionated now, I don't care anymore," her tone full of pride and indulgence.
The atmosphere was warm and harmonious. Song Zhiyi, as Huo Yanli's "former comrade-in-arms and current girlfriend" (a title Huo Yanli half-jokingly and half-seriously introduced to his family), blended in naturally and comfortably. After dinner, Huo's mother pulled her into the living room for tea, Huo Yanli was pestered by Huo Siqi about the foundation, and Huo's father watched the news on the side.
During a break from tea, Song Zhiyi got up to go to the restroom. As she passed Huo Yanli's study, the door was ajar. She inadvertently glimpsed an inconspicuous file box in a row of bookshelves against the wall, with a handwritten label that read "Clippings/Documents," in Huo Yanli's handwriting.
As if guided by some unseen force, she gently pushed open the door and went inside. She didn't rummage through anything, but simply walked to the file box and opened it.
Inside, folders were neatly arranged. She casually flipped to the top one. Inside were clippings pasted in chronological order, all photocopies of international news articles in English or French. The headlines varied, but the content all revolved around issues such as UN peace operations, the situation in the Middle East and Africa, climate change, and security. In the margins or in the text of many reports, the name "Song Zhiyi" or the name of her department was highlighted in light yellow highlighter. Some reports even had minimalist notes written in pen, such as "Progressing well," "Challenges remain," and "Clear viewpoints."
Not every article features her name, but it's clear that the focus is on the areas and issues she's involved in. The timeframe spans from her initial arrival at the United Nations to the present.
There was no sentimental collection, no deliberate embellishment; it was just work material kept casually. But it is precisely this casual and work-related approach that more vividly reflects how, over the years, he has silently and persistently watched over her journey through the world.
Song Zhiyi watched quietly, her fingers tracing the edges of the slightly frayed papers. A corner of her heart felt as if it were being gently washed over by a warm tide, a soft yet tingling sensation.
She didn't linger; she closed the folder, put it back in its place, and quietly left the study.
Back at the hotel that evening, after showering, she leaned against the headboard and picked up her phone. On the screen was a message from Huo Yanli, sent not long ago, asking about her plans for tomorrow.
She looked at it for a long time, then typed a reply.
She first replied to his question about tomorrow's plans, and then in a new message, she wrote:
"I've read the clipping, thank you."
send.
A few seconds later, another message was sent:
"Also, I'd like to have douzhi and jiaoquan tomorrow morning. I heard there's an old-established shop in Beixinqiao that's still open."
This time, Huo Yanli's reply was astonishingly fast, consisting of only one word, yet it was as if one could see his eyes lighting up and the corners of his mouth turning up behind the screen:
"good."
The next day at breakfast time, the two sat in the bustling old shop, with a strange smell of soy milk, fried dough rings, and pickled vegetable shreds in front of them. Song Zhiyi took a sip of soy milk without changing her expression, savoring its unique sourness, and then took a bite of the crispy fried dough ring.
Huo Yanli looked at her and asked with a smile, "Can you get used to the food?"
"I start to miss it after a while," Song Zhiyi said honestly. This is the taste of old Beijing in her memory, which is related to her childhood and adolescence.
A simple breakfast, perhaps not even particularly delicious, yet it evoked a strong sense of warmth, homeliness, and belonging.
In the afternoon, Song Zhiyi received an encrypted email from the UN Secretary-General's office. It contained a detailed description of the responsibilities, anticipated challenges, risk assessment, and initial task briefings for the new position of "Climate and Conflict Prevention Coordinator." The document was long and meticulously worded, but the weight of responsibility, the breadth of the geographical scope, and the high level of potential risks were clearly evident between the lines. It even mentioned some regions where she might need to be permanently stationed in the future, all of which are "powder kegs" where climate vulnerability and political instability intertwine.
She sat at the desk in her hotel room, staring at the computer screen, reading through the text word by word. Then, she picked up her phone and dialed Huo Yanli's number.
"I've received the detailed information for the new position," she said, getting straight to the point.
There was a pause on the other end of the phone, followed by his steady voice: "Do you need me to come over? Or, could we find a quiet place to talk?"
“No need to come over,” Song Zhiyi said. “Let’s talk on the phone. Some situations are more complicated than we thought.”
She briefly summarized the key points of the briefing, especially regarding the possibility of long-term overseas assignments, missions in high-risk areas, and the fact that the job almost inevitably involves an irregular lifestyle. Her tone was calm, as if she were giving a work report.
Huo Yanli listened quietly without interrupting.
After she finished speaking, he asked, "What do you think? Are you under a lot of pressure?"
“There’s always been pressure,” Song Zhiyi said frankly. “But this position involves very cutting-edge and critical issues. If I can do it well, it might really prevent some future conflicts. I think… it’s worth the challenge.”
"Hmm," Huo Yanli responded, remaining silent for a few seconds. This was the first time since establishing their new relationship that they had so concretely faced the possibility of a long-term separation and uncertainty in the future.
Then he spoke, his voice still steady, yet carrying a solid, reassuring quality:
“Zhiyi, I’ve said it before, choose the one you feel is more conducive to realizing your ideals. It’s the same now. Wherever your battlefield is, I’ll probably be somewhere in the rear where I can help out. Long-term overseas assignments and risks—we’ve experienced these before. The only difference is…”
He paused, his voice lower and softer: "Now I can more legitimately ask 'Are you alright?' every day, and if you wish, you can occasionally add a sentence in addition to replying 'Are you alright,' such as 'I'm tired today, but I saw progress on a certain project,' or 'The sunset here is spectacular.'"
He didn't say "I'll wait for you," nor did he try to downplay the difficulties. He simply reaffirmed his stance and the way he was supporting her, and subtly expanded their connection a little beyond a simple "confirmation of safety," sharing those subtle moments that reflected her personal feelings.
Holding her phone, Song Zhiyi listened to his words, gazing out the window at the vast autumn sky over Beijing. The heaviness and slight unease about the unknown that had risen in her heart because of the briefing's content seemed to be gently supported by a warm and reassuring force.
“Okay,” she said softly, a smile unconsciously creeping onto her lips. “Then I might… often complain about the length of climate negotiations and the stubbornness of the representatives from various countries.”
Huo Yanli chuckled softly on the other end of the phone: "You're welcome anytime. In exchange, I can share how difficult it is to persuade the old men on the board."
The phone call didn't solve any real problems; the challenges ahead remained. But they both understood that something was different. They began to learn how, as lovers, to accommodate and support each other's destined-to-be extraordinary, and destined-to-be-difficult, life aspirations.
This is not a sacrifice, but a deeper understanding and companionship.
The last few days of the vacation passed quietly amidst the lively atmosphere of douzhi and jiaoquan, holding hands by the lake, a warm dinner at the Huo family home, and a calm discussion about future risks.
A new relationship sprouts naturally in the clear autumn morning light. There is no grand declaration of love, only a gradual approach and a growing sense of certainty in each other's hearts.
The road ahead is still long, and the mountains and rivers still await us.
But this time, they are no longer lonely watchers and travelers.
They are comrades-in-arms, and also lovers trying to hold hands.
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