“Why do you have so many white hairs?” Cheng Qingqing asked, her voice trembling.
Bai Yanting smiled wistfully, softening his tone to a gentle whisper: “It’s just age, naturally.”
But his words didn’t alleviate her guilt. How could he have so many white hairs at his age? She clutched him tightly, repeating: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
Bai Yanting’s eyes reddened, his voice filled with comfort: “What do you have to apologize for, Qingqing? I’ve said it before – everything was my choice, nothing to do with you.”
Cheng Qingqing remained silent, embracing him tightly, sobbing quietly. Bai Yanting’s concern for her grew, but she held on firmly, preventing him from turning to face her. He glanced at her exposed hands, worried they’d freeze in the cold, and gently pulled them into his coat, wrapping the fabric around them.
Once done, he whispered: “Qingqing, we’re on the street. So many people are watching.”
Still, she wouldn’t let go.
Her stubbornness brought a warm, happy smile to Bai Yanting’s eyes, despite his embarrassment. He leaned in, resting his chin on her head: “The singles will mock us for being too lovey-dovey.”
Cheng Qingqing giggled, wiping away tears on Bai Yanting’s clothes. “If they don’t want to look, they can turn away. It’s their problem, not ours.”
Bai Yanting’s eyes filled with affection, smiling wistfully. “You’re so stubborn!”
Cheng Qingqing released him, and Bai Yanting turned away, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. He helped her wipe away tears, his voice gentle. “Why cry?”
Now calm, Cheng Qingqing felt embarrassed about embracing him publicly. Her face flushed as Bai Yanting cleaned her tears.
After gathering the scattered groceries, they left. In the car, Bai Yanting occasionally glanced at Cheng Qingqing, his mouth curving into a subtle smile whenever he looked at her.
Cheng Qingqing felt uneasy under his gaze. To divert attention, she spoke up.
“Actually, I wanted to discuss something with you.”
As soon as she finished speaking, Bai Yanting straightened up, his expression turning serious and tense. “What is it?”
His sudden change made Cheng Qingqing tense up, sitting up straight. She hesitated before speaking: “I want to learn photography. I’ve forgotten most of what I knew, so…”
Bai Yanting seemed to exhale in relief, his smile softening. “Okay, I’ll have someone look into good institutions for you to learn.”
With Bai Yanting’s help, things would be much easier.
“Also, I want to change my room’s curtains.”
Bai Yanting paused, then smiled. “Okay.”
“And replace the sofa cushions with softer ones.”
Bai Yanting’s smile grew, his eyes shining with satisfaction. “Okay.”
“I want to buy a vase for the living room window and get some flowers.”
His smile spread to his eyebrows. “Okay.”
Cheng Qingqing frowned, slightly annoyed. “I’m discussing this with you, but you’re just agreeing to everything.”
He turned to her, his gaze filled with tender affection, his smile brighter than the sunlight outside. “I’ve said it before – everything is yours, do as you please, including me.”
Cheng Qingqing’s face grew even redder as she turned away.
“Are your hands cold?” he asked softly.
She turned back to him, shaking her head. “No.”
While driving, he extended a hand toward her. His eyes remained on the road, but his tone conveyed a sense of natural entitlement. “Give me your hand, let me check.”
Cheng Qingqing understood his intentions and, after a brief hesitation, placed her hand in his. His large palm enveloped hers, warm and dry, with long fingers. Being held by him felt like being wrapped in a comforting universe.
“Doesn’t seem warm enough; I’ll just hold it for you,” he said.
Cheng Qingqing’s face flushed, and she nodded softly after a moment. “Hmm.”
“Put your other hand in your pocket.” His gentle tone carried a hint of command.
Cheng Qingqing obeyed, tucking her hand into her pocket.
“Isn’t holding hands bad for driving?”
He looked unconvinced. “One hand is enough for this road.”
Cheng Qingqing found it amusing; why didn’t he just say he wanted to hold her hand?
Back home, Bai Yanting cooked dinner. Cheng Qingqing watched him from the kitchen doorway, his tall frame bent to reach the cutting board, his handsome fingers chopping vegetables. She felt guilty.
“I can cook myself.”
Without looking up, he continued chopping. “You being able to cook is one thing; I cooking for you is another.”
Bai Yanting cooked meticulously, seeming to enjoy the process.
As he poured the taro into the pot, he turned to Cheng Qingqing, still standing in the doorway. His brow furrowed. “Why are you still standing there? Go wait outside.”
“Why are you so good to me?” Cheng Qingqing wondered. Why did he love her despite her dislike and hatred? Why did he stay with her even after she became troublesome? He had countless options, yet chose the one that hurt him most.
Bai Yanting shrugged, smiling. “Who knows?” After a pause, he added, “But remember, there’s no such thing as unconditional love.”
Cheng Qingqing’s curiosity grew. “Can you tell me about our past? How did we meet?”
Bai Yanting hesitated. “Let’s not dwell on the past.”
Cheng Qingqing sensed his reluctance to discuss their history.
“Past events aren’t important. Focus on our future together.”
Cheng Qingqing realized Bai Yanting had endured hardships and didn’t press further, nodding obediently. “Okay.”
Bai Yanting continued cooking, his gentle movements and warm smile radiating contentment. The sunlight dancing on his face seemed to mirror the joy in his eyes.
Bai Yanting’s culinary skills impressed Cheng Qingqing; his pumpkin soup was sweet but not greasy, and the braised taro with pork ribs was tender and flavorful.
Cheng Qingqing devoured two large bowls, and Bai Yanting watched with satisfaction, his smiling gaze appearing endearingly silly.
