Sweetie, don't look at him, kiss me.

Lin Qingmian's fingers lingered on the side of the teacup for two or three seconds before she picked it up and took a sip.

The warm liquid slid down her throat, carrying a faint scent of jasmine. She put the cup back on the table and looked up at him.

"I have no idea."

She spoke those three words in a calm, even voice, without hesitation or evasion. "You ask me if I love him? I don't know. But I do know that this past year, he's the only one who didn't leave me when I needed him."

Ji Xingye sat opposite him, holding the cup of tea without drinking it. The warmth of the cup seeped through the porcelain to his fingertips, slightly reddening his knuckles. He didn't let go, just held it like that. "So you married him out of gratitude."

His voice was a little hoarse, as if the words had rolled around in his throat many times before he finally said them.

"Not entirely," Lin Qingmian looked at him. "It was also because it was the best choice I had at the time. You weren't there, my family was pressuring me, I had nowhere to turn—and then he appeared. He gave me a chance to start over."

"So, do you like him?" Ji Xingye pressed again, her voice even lower than before. "Not gratitude, not a choice. It's just that in your heart—do you like him?"

The bamboo blind in the tea room was lifted slightly by the wind, and afternoon sunlight streamed in through the gap, casting a flickering shadow on the table between the two people. Lin Qingmian stared at that light, remaining silent for a long time.

"I feel safe and secure when I'm with him," she finally spoke, her voice neither loud nor soft. "He stayed by my side all night when I was in the car accident. He brought people to pick me up when the Lin family took me away. He rushed in to stand up for me when I was being bullied at the restaurant. I can't pretend these things didn't happen."

She looked up at him. "I'm not sure if it's love. But I know he's the one for me."

Ji Xingye lowered his head, looking at the cup of tea in front of him that had stopped steaming. His fingers finally loosened their grip on the cup, and the red mark on his fingertips slowly faded to a pale pink. He sat there, like a sculpture whose core had been hollowed out, silent for a very long time.

"I understand," he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and barely audible. "I'm not reconciled. But I understand."

He looked up at her. "If he ever makes you suffer in the future, you can come to me anytime. I won't do anything, but you can come to me."

Lin Qingmian neither said yes nor no. She simply looked at him and nodded slightly.

She stood up. "I'll be going now."

Ji Xingye also stood up, as if he wanted to see her off, or perhaps it was just out of some kind of instinct. He didn't follow her out of the private room, but just stood at the door, watching her walk out along the corridor lined with slender bamboo, through the wooden door of the tea room, and into the dazzling afternoon light.

Her silhouette was enveloped by the light, becoming somewhat blurred, before turning a corner at the doorway and disappearing completely.

Ji Xingye stood there for a long time. When the waiter came to clear the tea set, he glanced at him cautiously, but Ji Xingye didn't notice. He returned to his seat, the cup of tea in front of him had gone cold. He picked it up and took a sip; the bitterness spread on his tongue, making him frown.

When Lin Qingmian stepped out of the teahouse, the wind outside was a bit stronger than when she had arrived. As she walked along the alley, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out and glanced at it; it was a message from Ji Linzhou, containing only two words: "Where are you?"

She stopped at the alley entrance, looked up at the sky fragmented by the shadows of the trees, then looked down and typed: "Just came from the teahouse. Heading home."

A few seconds after the message was sent, another message came back: "I'm behind you."

She turned around. A black sedan was parked on the side of the road at the other end of the alley, its window half-rolled down, revealing Ji Linzhou's expressionless profile. He seemed to have been there for a while, his arm resting on the edge of the window, an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

She walked towards the car, opened the passenger door, and got in. "You were following me?"

"The teahouse Bai Cheng booked." He put the unlit cigarette into a storage compartment. "I know the address."

She fastened her seatbelt and glanced at him sideways. "What are you afraid I'll say to him?"

Ji Linzhou started the car, his gaze fixed ahead, not looking at her. "I'm afraid you'll be easily swayed by a few words from someone else."

He spoke casually, as if stating a minor risk assessment. Lin Qingmian looked at him for a moment, then couldn't help but smile slightly. "Then you can rest assured."

She turned back to look at the road ahead. "I've already explained it to him."

The car pulled out of the alley and merged into the traffic on the main road. The afternoon sun shone through the car window and fell warmly on her knees. She leaned back in her seat, tilting her head to look at the street scene outside the window. The pedestrians and shops flashed past her field of vision one by one, like frames of a slowed-down painting.

Ji Linzhou didn't press her to tell him what she meant by "explain clearly." He simply drove quietly, occasionally glancing at her when they stopped at red lights. His gaze was light, as if he were just confirming that she was still sitting in the passenger seat.

Back at the Deep Blue Apartment, the metal doors of the elevator reflected the silhouettes of two people standing side by side. Lin Qingmian looked at the blurry figures and suddenly asked, "Do you have a business dinner tonight?"

Ji Linzhou turned his head to look at her: "Nothing. What's wrong?"

"Let's cook together tonight," she said. "I bought groceries and they're in the fridge."

The elevator doors opened. Ji Linzhou stepped out first, then turned back after a couple of steps, as if to confirm that she had really followed. His expression didn't change much, but he reached out and pressed the switch for the motion-sensor light in the corridor, only releasing his hand after she had also stepped out of the elevator.

In that instant, the light in the corridor cast long, long shadows of the two people, overlapping on the light gray floor tiles, like a painting that hadn't quite dried yet.

Lin Qingmian cooked dinner. It was three dishes and a soup, all home-style dishes: braised pork ribs, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, tomato and egg soup, plus a plate of cucumber salad. Ji Linzhou sat across from him at the table and ate quietly, at a moderate pace, occasionally picking up a piece of food with his chopsticks and occasionally taking a sip of soup.

Halfway through his meal, his phone rang. He put down his chopsticks, glanced at the screen, and then answered it.

"Feed her." He listened for a few seconds, then frowned slightly. "What's wrong with her?"

He glanced in Lin Qingmian's direction, then looked away. "Okay. I understand."

After hanging up, he placed his phone on the table and picked up his chopsticks again. Lin Qingmian glanced at him but didn't ask anything. After about five or six seconds, she spoke up herself: "Su Tingwan. Her agent said she's locked herself in her hotel room and won't come out. She's ignoring being asked to go back to work."

He picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks, his expression remaining calm: "He said he was traumatized and needs to adjust his state."

Lin Qingmian put down her chopsticks, picked up her soup bowl, and took a sip. "Do you need me to take care of this?"