The week before her departure to Paris passed like a blur.
Designs were packed. Documents were submitted. And Lu Cheng… grew quieter with each passing day.
He didn't say much when she received her official flight confirmation. He didn't complain when she spent late nights organizing her fashion materials. But every night, he held her a little tighter. As if trying to memorize her scent.
Two days before the departure, a the apartment, Su Nian stood in the middle of their shared apartment, suitcase open, clothes neatly folded on the bed.
Lu Cheng leaned against the doorway, watching silently.
"You haven't said anything," she said, not looking at him. "Are you upset?"
"No."
She glanced back. "You're lying."
He crossed the room in two steps and pulled her into his arms, burying his face into the crook of her neck.
"I just… don't want to miss you yet," he said hoarsely.
Her heart squeezed. "It's only six weeks."
"That's 1,008 hours."
She smiled gently. "You counted?"
He kissed the side of her neck. "I counted every second the day I met you. I'm not about to stop now."
She turned in his arms and looked up at him.
"I'll come back stronger. I'll make you proud."
"You already do," he said, cupping her cheek.
Then, as if the air between them could no longer stand the silence, he kissed her—slow and deep and tender. There was no rush. No fire. Just warmth. Emotion.
Love.
When he pulled away, he whispered, "If Paris tries to steal your heart, remind it that someone already owns it."
The night before departure.
She came home late from her final prep meeting and found the lights off.
Lu Cheng wasn't home. But there was a sealed envelope resting on her pillow. With her name written in his handwriting.
To: My Nian Nian.
Her fingers trembled as she opened it.
My dearest Nian Nian,
I never imagined the day would come when I would watch you leave from an airport instead of the altar. But here we are. You, chasing your dreams. Me, chasing the hours until I see you again.
I want you to go, Su Nian. I want you to spread your wings. I want the world to see what I already know—that you are extraordinary.
But selfishly, I want to ask you one thing.
Don't forget me. Don't forget the man who kissed you by a lake. Who fought for you in a studio. Who calls you Nian Nian even when he's furious. Who fell in love with you before he even realized it.
I'll be waiting.
Not just for the days to pass. But for the day I can say "welcome home" and finally… never let you go again.
Yours. Always.
—Lu Cheng
She clutched the letter to her chest, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Airport.
The next morning, he drove her to the airport.
She wore a beige coat, a soft scarf, and the locket he gave her on their wedding day tucked under her collar.
Neither said much during the drive. But when they reached the terminal, she turned to him.
"I'll call you every day."
"I'll answer every time."
"I'll miss you."
"I already do."
She smiled, trying to hold back tears. "Take care of the company."
He leaned down, forehead resting against hers. "You take care of my heart."
A final kiss. Soft and lasting. She turned away.
He stood there, watching her walk through the gates, hands in his pockets.
When she disappeared behind the security glass, he whispered,
"Come back to me."
That afternoon, back in his office, Bai Ming entered.
"Sir, the Paris workshop itinerary has been confirmed."
Lu Cheng didn't look up. "Good."
"And your meetings?"
"Cancel everything after 6 p.m."
"Even the deal with the tech conglomerate?"
Lu Cheng's jaw clenched.
Then slowly, he said,
"Tell them I have a wife overseas I'm calling every night. That's non-negotiable."
Bai Ming blinked. Then smiled.
"Yes, sir."