Chapter 82 Vast Mountains and Rivers, Short Letter, Long Affection
Song Zhiyi is being sent abroad again, and her destination is still Geneva.
This time, unlike three years ago when they got their marriage certificate and rushed off to a war-torn region, Huo Yanli drove her back to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs dormitory to pack her luggage the night before her departure. The room was still simple, with several documents awaiting approval and an open French dictionary spread out on the desk. Outside the window, Beijing was already showing signs of spring, with new green leaves sprouting on the branches.
"How long will you be gone this time?" Huo Yanli stood by the door, watching her deftly sort and bag the documents.
"The initial plan is to participate in the translation and coordination work for the new round of multilateral trade negotiations for six months." Song Zhiyi didn't look up, her tone as calm as ever, "The specific duration will depend on the progress of the negotiations."
Six months. Huo Yanli calculated in his mind. It wasn't long, but it was enough for many things to change—including the seed he was determined to cultivate. By the time she returned, it would be summer.
"It rains a lot in spring there, so remember to always carry an umbrella." He said it casually, like any husband would say to his wife who is about to travel far away.
Song Zhiyi paused in her work, then looked up at him. "Yes, I'll be careful. Thank you."
Her response remained polite, but Huo Yanli caught a fleeting glint in her eyes—a slight discomfort with this everyday concern, yet not entirely a rejection.
He placed a small, tightly sealed package next to her packed suitcase.
"What is this?" Song Zhiyi asked.
"Some things you might need." Huo Yanli didn't go into details. "We'll see when we get there."
Song Zhiyi glanced at the package, didn't refuse, but simply nodded and continued with the final check. Her luggage remained minimal: a few formal outfits, a few casual clothes, a large number of books and documents, and the small bag she always carried with her, containing basic first-aid supplies and medicines.
The next morning, Huo Yanli took her to the airport. In the waiting area, he said, "Keep your communication channels open. No matter how busy you are at work, don't forget... to let us know you've arrived safely."
He promptly swallowed back the part about "not forgetting that there are people at home who care about you," and replaced it with a more neutral phrase.
Song Zhiyi looked up at him: "Okay. I will try to send messages every day."
This was a promise that exceeded Huo Yanli's expectations. A smile appeared in his eyes: "Okay, I'll wait for you."
The boarding announcement came on. Song Zhiyi pulled her suitcase, nodded to Huo Yanli, and said, "I'm leaving."
Have a safe journey.
She turned and merged into the flow of people going through security, her back straight and her steps firm, just as she always did when heading to her battlefield. Huo Yanli stood there until that figure completely disappeared before slowly exhaling.
This time, it was no longer two years of endless silence and uncertainty.
This time, a thin thread connected them, though they were far apart.
---
In Geneva in spring, the air is filled with a light, continuous drizzle.
It wasn't until the evening of the second day after Song Zhiyi arrived that she finally settled into her temporary accommodation. Outside the window were damp streets and the spires of Gothic buildings, with the lake shrouded in a thin mist in the distance. She opened the package Huo Yanli had given her.
There aren't many items inside, but everything is practical and thoughtfully chosen:
• A portable humidifier (with adapter plug), with a note: "Geneva rooms are dry, please adjust accordingly."
• Several boxes of her usual Chinese herbal medicine granules, all with mild formulas for colds and sore throats.
• A box of high-quality black tea bags, with a handwritten label that reads: "Drink a little when you stay up late to warm your stomach."
At the bottom is a leather-bound notebook with no words on the title page, but a delicate bookmark with tiny engravings: "The vast mountains and rivers, the everyday life of people, all can be remembered."
The items were simple, without any luxury or deliberate romance, yet each one met her actual needs while living in a foreign country, even taking into account the small details she might have overlooked due to her high-intensity work.
Song Zhiyi picked up the bookmark and ran her fingertips over the small print. The rain pattered outside the window, and the room was silent. She sat under the lamp, looked at it for a long time, and then carefully placed the bookmark back into her notebook.
She took out her phone and opened the chat window for the person she had recently contacted. Their last conversation was when he sent her a "Have a safe trip" message before she boarded the plane, to which she replied, "Arrived, don't worry."
She hovered her fingertip over the screen for a moment, then began to type. Not out of obligation, but because at that moment, she wanted to tell him that she had received the package.
"The package has been opened, thank you. The items are very useful."
The message was sent late at night Beijing time.
She put down her phone, intending to boil water and make a cup of the black tea he had prepared. But her phone quickly vibrated.
"It's good that it's useful. Remember to read the instructions for those medicines and don't take them randomly." Huo Yanli replied quickly, as if he had been waiting for this.
As Song Zhiyi looked at the message, she could almost see him sitting in his study in Beijing, his phone beside him, the screen dimly lit. She replied, "Okay. It's raining in Geneva, a bit cold."
"It's gotten colder in Beijing tonight, and it's raining too. Looks like we're all experiencing rain." He replied quickly, then sent another message: "Get some rest, don't stay up late."
A strange sense of synchronicity washed over them; though separated by seven time zones, they seemed to share the same rain cloud. Song Zhiyi picked up the freshly brewed tea, its warmth seeping through the cup, carrying the rich aroma of black tea. She took a sip and replied, "I'll rest now. You should have some early too."
The conversation paused there, but a thin thread was quietly connected.
---
From that night on, Huo Yanli began to try sharing his daily life. It wasn't a deliberate report, but rather a natural expression, at just the right frequency, never making her feel burdened.
"Ji Yun is organizing another gathering today, but I declined. I remembered you reminded him to take his mother for regular check-ups, so I scheduled a medical appointment for this weekend."
"The company's new project involves the Nordic market, and the negotiation style is very similar to what you analyzed. They emphasize data and rules, which led the team to adjust their approach."
"The magnolia in the backyard of the old house has bloomed. It's a very big flower. I took a picture to show you."
He sent me a close-up photo of a magnolia flower, its petals pure white and unfurling, shimmering and glowing in the spring sunshine.
Song Zhiyi's replies usually come after a long time, sometimes hours, sometimes the next day. The content is also brief, but there is always a response, and it is no longer limited to transactional replies.
"You need to take good care of Aunt Ji's health. The magnolias are beautiful, and the cherry blossoms along the streets of Geneva are starting to bloom."
"Skians value the separation of public and private matters, and try not to talk about work outside of work hours."
"I passed by the lake today and saw swans with their chicks, so I took a picture."
She sent me a photo: Lake Geneva's waters were sparkling, and several swans were swimming leisurely by, followed by fluffy gray-brown cygnets, looking adorable.
Huo Yanli saved the photo and set it as his phone's wallpaper. Looking at her brief posts, he could clearly feel the subtle joy that flowed between the lines from Song Zhiyi's words when she talked about work progress or saw nature. She was no longer unattainable, but vivid and real.
His lifestyle subtly changed as a result. His previously frequent social engagements and gatherings decreased significantly. Shen Yu caught him at a business dinner he couldn't refuse, and teased, raising his glass, "President Huo has really been keeping a low profile lately. I've turned you down eight out of ten times. What's wrong? Has our free-spirited Beijing playboy completely reformed?"
Huo Yanli was holding a glass of soda water. Hearing this, he smiled faintly and said, "Now that someone is in charge at home, you have to be self-disciplined."
“Oh ho,” Shen Yu raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice, “I really couldn’t tell. But seriously, Yanli, everyone’s watching you now. Before, we all thought you and Song Zhiyi were just going through the motions, but now…” He paused, “Now it seems you’ve really fallen for her. At the last party, Chairman Wang even asked me privately, what’s Mrs. Huo’s background, that she can keep President Huo so obedient.”
Huo Yanli's expression remained unchanged, and he simply said, "She doesn't need to subdue anyone. It's my own choice."
Looking at his calm yet earnest profile, Shen Yu suddenly recalled a few years ago when they were waiting outside the Civil Affairs Bureau to see how "that woman who climbed the social ladder" would behave. All they got was a curt "okay" from Song Zhiyi and her hurried departure. At the time, they all thought this woman was either incredibly good at pretending or completely terrified. Now, they realized it was perhaps simply because they had never truly understood her.
“Okay,” Shen Yu patted his shoulder and said sincerely, “That’s good. Song Zhiyi… is worth it.”
At another important business banquet, the business partner's boss enthusiastically urged Huo Yanli to drink, but Huo Yanli again opted for water instead. The other party said, half-jokingly and half-seriously, "Mr. Huo, isn't that a bit too much? With our relationship, you won't even drink a drop?"
Huo Yanli raised his glass, his tone gentle yet authoritative: "President Li, please forgive me, but your wife instructed me before leaving the country to drink in moderation. I promised, and I must keep my word. I'm offering you water instead of wine, but the sentiment is the same."
There was a moment of silence at the table, then someone laughed: "Mr. Huo is truly a model husband!" The laughter carried envy and understanding—at their position, to still take their wives' words so seriously required genuine respect and care; even acting couldn't be so natural. Huo Yanli, however, was clearly not the latter.
The news gradually spread within Beijing's social circles: Huo Yanli had changed. The once aloof and frivolous young master now left work on time, declined unnecessary social engagements, and his eyes would unconsciously soften when he mentioned "my wife."
Today, Huo Yanli's dramatic change in attitude is like a mirror, reflecting their past narrow-mindedness. When Huo Yanli solemnly mentions "my wife," his eyes filled with unmistakable cherishing and pride, people belatedly re-examine the woman who had always stood quietly by his side but never tried to integrate into their circle—and then realize how precious her calmness and resilience, so out of place in this glamorous world, truly are.
Once, Ji Yun insisted on dragging him to a small gathering of friends, all of whom were childhood friends, so they spoke without restraint. Somehow, the conversation turned to their recent situations.
"Yanli, I heard you've been working on some kind of international charity foundation lately? That's not like you at all," someone asked.
Huo Yanli put down his teacup: "Yes, it's in the works. It mainly focuses on education and healthcare for children in war-torn areas."
Why are you suddenly interested in this?
“My wife worked in those places,” Huo Yanli answered naturally. “She saw too many children on the front lines who lacked medical care and medicine. She told me that some things, once you know them, you can’t pretend you didn’t see them.”
"It's your wife again." Ji Yun shook his head, but his tone was tinged with emotion. "I'm telling you, Huo Yanli, you really can't stop talking about 'Zhiyi' these days. But seriously, does she even know what you're doing? What's her opinion?"
“She knew.” A hint of warmth appeared in Huo Yanli’s eyes. “She said that she would help as many people as she could. She also gave me some very practical advice on how to establish effective cooperation with local non-governmental organizations.”
A moment of silence fell over the table. Before, when they privately joked about "Mrs. Huo," it carried a hint of disdain. Now, hearing Song Zhiyi's calm and professional advice from Huo Yanli, they truly realized how different the world that woman inhabited was from their own extravagant social circle. And that difference wasn't a lowering of status, but rather a different level of achievement.
“Very good.” Zhou Mubai, who hadn’t said much until now, suddenly spoke up, raising his teacup. “To Mrs. Huo.”
“It’s not Mrs. Huo,” Huo Yanli said seriously, “It’s Song Zhiyi.”
"Respect Song Zhiyi".
Several cups gently clinked together.
---
The negotiations in Geneva entered a crucial stage, and Song Zhiyi worked continuously until late at night. Finally, after another long and arduous round of consultations, the parties reached a preliminary consensus on the core differences. When she walked out of the meeting room, it was already past midnight. The spring night in Geneva was cool, but the air was fresh, and the reflections of the lights on the distant lake swayed gently with the ripples.
Despite her extreme exhaustion, a clear and restrained sense of accomplishment surged within her. Standing by the window in the empty corridor of the office, looking at the tranquil night outside, she suddenly realized that it should be dawn in Beijing at this moment.
She took out her phone and opened the chat window. The latest message was from Huo Yanli, sent a few hours earlier: a close-up of tender green leaves in the morning light, captioned: "Spring has truly arrived."
Her fingertips twitched slightly as she typed and sent:
"A crucial round of negotiations has just concluded, achieving a significant breakthrough. It's quiet now."
After sending the message, she put her phone back in her pocket and headed for the elevator. Her phone vibrated quickly. She took it out and looked at it.
"You've worked hard. I'm so happy for you." His reply was simple, yet she could almost see his expression at that moment. Then came another message: "Quiet moments are the most precious; enjoy this peace."
Looking at the words "I'm so happy for you," Song Zhiyi stood in the empty lobby of a foreign land in the early morning, a strange warmth slowly spreading from her heart. So this is what it feels like to have the joy of achieving a goal understood and shared.
She replied, "Okay."
Entering the apartment, she heated herself a glass of milk and sat down at the small table by the window. She picked up the leather notebook, opened it, looked at the bookmark tucked inside, then picked up her pen and wrote the first word on the blank title page:
"progress."
He paused, then added a small line: "Joy seems to be clearer when shared with someone."
Six months, from spring to summer.
Enough to make a bird accustomed to solitary flight begin to notice the gentle gaze that always follows it from behind.
This was enough to make the entire Beijing social circle completely understand that the plaque of the city in Huo Yanli's heart had already been engraved with the three words "Song Zhiyi," and he was a willing guardian of that city.
I neither urge nor inquire, but simply look forward to your return every day.
Because he finally understood that the best way to love her was not to pull her into his world, but to find a place in her world where he could stand and watch her soar among the mountains and rivers she loved.
And when she occasionally perches here, he will be the quiet tree she can see when she turns around.
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