Receiving He Yin's call was no surprise.
After all, Shang Chi had just called Shang Heng to ask about his schedule, opening with "When can you spare some time to grab dinner with my wife?"—utterly brazen, forcing his usually composed older brother to gasp in shock.
—"How much did you drink to get this drunk? Should I have Xiao Fang come pick you up?"
— "Not drunk? Then did Mom's marriage pressure drive you insane?"
— "Can you even keep working? Got any promising successors lined up?"
Yep, pure workaholic style.
After Shang Chi sent the marriage certificate photo.
Shang Heng: "Faking documents is illegal, you know that, right?"
Shang Chi: "?"
Shang Chi: "This is real."
Shang Heng hummed in acknowledgment before asking again.
"So you didn't pull some fake marriage or stand-in-turned-real deal? You know, the whole 'chasing the wife to the crematorium' routine—first giving her the cold shoulder, then chasing her all over town, ending up red-eyed and clutching her waist, swearing to give her your life."
Big Brother Shang looked worried: "Xiao Chi, you can't let love ruin your career."
Shang Chi: "...I haven't. Brother, when work isn't so hectic, stop watching idol dramas and listening to romance novels with my sister-in-law."
He chuckled lazily, boasting unabashedly:
"My wife and I met through an arranged date. Love at first sight. Love deepened at second glance. Married after the third meeting. Got it?"
Whether Shang Heng, who hung up mid-sentence, understood remained unclear.
But He Yin definitely didn't.
A furious call came through, opening with: "What the hell are you doing at this hour? Who did you marry? How come my brother knows but I don't?"
That last line was the crux.
Shang Chi replied nonchalantly: "Your sister."
He Yin froze: "What?"
Shang Chi's lips curved upward.
"Future sister-in-law—oh right, since I married Xiao Zhu, the 'future sister-in-law' title no longer applies."
"From now on, she's your daughter-in-law."
"Mrs. He, you can quietly rejoice."
He Yin: "?"
He Yin: "Your mother—wait, no, your mother is me."
After dismissing He Yin with a few words, Shang Chi put away his phone and glanced toward the living room.
The bathroom door stood ajar, the light still on, yet the figure inside had vanished.
Shang Chi stepped toward it, pausing briefly beside the sofa.
A pale yellow bath towel lay casually draped over the backrest, one corner embroidered with a little duck dangling obediently.
Shang Chi lowered his gaze for a few seconds before hooking his long fingers to pick up the towel, still slightly damp. He carried it out to the balcony to air it.
He didn't know what brand of body wash Mingzhu used, but the scent lingered distinctly.
Sweet purple grapes.
The scent intensified the moment he unfurled the towel, its threads of fragrance clinging to him.
Hanging it on the rack, the tender duck-egg yellow swayed in the moonlight.
That lingering color on his retina resembled the golden autumn osmanthus planted along the road below.
Earlier at the building entrance, Uncle Wang searched through albums for ages before finally pulling out a photo.
Data migrated from an old phone, still in that grainy ten-year-old resolution.
At the photo's center stood a small, stocky figure.
A soft, pale, childish face was set in a tight frown, pale lips pressed so hard they'd lost all color.
She must have fallen several times—gray smudges marred her white bear-print hoodie, and strands of soft hair had escaped from her topknot.
Clutching her white cane, head bowed, she stepped onto the first stair.
"That was Xiao Zhuo's first time venturing out alone. From home to the community gate—such a short distance, yet it took her twenty minutes."
Uncle Wang said, "Her teacher cried, and we nearly couldn't hold back our tears too... Xiao Zhuo was only twelve or thirteen back then. Her mother passed away from illness, and her father didn't care much. With that illness of his, she lived alone. It was truly tough."
"At first, she was scared of falling and walked very slowly. She didn't like going out much either. It was her teacher who often came over and managed to get her out a few times. Later, she must have come to terms with it. Realizing others could do little for her situation, she drew strength from her own resilience and grew stronger."
"After she started at the special school, she returned home a few times during breaks. Each visit, she seemed more cheerful. She'd greet us on her own, buy groceries and cook for herself, and even walk to the riverside park for strolls."
"See how she lives on her own now, earns her own money, and keeps everything in order? That tells you how much hardship she's endured... Young man, if you marry Xiao Zhuo, you'd better treat her well."
Shang Chi added Uncle Wang on WeChat and requested the photo.
A new chat window popped up, and below the list was another conversation labeled "Teacher Fang from Jincheng Special Academy."
Shang Chi put away his phone, his expression calm. He didn't immediately agree, but instead murmured softly:
"I'll do my absolute best."
-
Ming Zhuo didn't want to interrupt Shang Chi's call, so she went straight back to her room.
After taking a few steps inside, she remembered she hadn't closed the door. She turned on her heel, found the doorknob, and shut it securely.
She flopped onto her bed, snatching the chubby white shark plushie from beneath the covers into her arms. Resting her chin on it, her fingers swiped across her phone screen.
Absentmindedly, she opened the app where she usually listened to piano music. Yet her attention wasn't on the melodies at all. Instead, she perked up her ears, straining to catch the faint sounds outside her door.
The wooden door offered mediocre soundproofing.
The intermittent voices soon faded, replaced by faint footsteps.
Approaching, then turning away.
Mingzhu propped her chin, mentally tracing Shang Chi's path.
Entering from the balcony, walking toward the living room sofa, pausing for a few seconds, turning back, another moment of silence...
Suddenly, a soft knock sounded on the door.
Probably worried she was resting, the knock was very light.
Mingzhu hurriedly propped herself up. "What is it?"
Shang Chi didn't open the door, only speaking through it: "I took the bath towel you left on the sofa out to the balcony."
"Okay, thanks."
Silence hung between them for a few seconds.
Shang Chi chuckled softly, his voice low and gentle.
"Good night, Little Bamboo."
Mingzhu paused before replying, "Good night."
After the footsteps faded, Mingzhu sat for a few more seconds before abruptly turning and flopping back onto the bed, burying her head in the soft duvet.
The voice that had once only existed in WeChat chat windows had leapt out, standing tall outside her door.
No longer transmitted through a speaker.
She had heard that "goodnight" with her own ears.
Mingzhu pressed her flushed cheeks against the cool, short fur of her white shark plushie, dimples faintly visible on her cheeks. She murmured softly, repeating, "Good night~"
Then she quietly chuckled.
Like a child clutching a handful of candy, she hid in a corner, savoring the sweetness of the treats, secretly delighted.
She had no memory of when she'd fallen asleep.
Only the sensation of having dreamt a perfectly wonderful dream lingered.
It wasn't until the seven o'clock alarm jolted her awake that Mingzhuo opened her eyes, dazed.
Propping herself up on her elbows, she slowly came to her senses.
Yesterday's events flooded back:
The part-time job, Shang Chi, marriage, moving in together...
Mingzhu snapped awake, tossed aside the covers, and hurried out the door in her slippers.
The living room was silent.
Only the faint murmur of Grandpa and Grandma chatting downstairs drifted up.
Mingzhu stared blankly at the doorknob for a moment, almost convinced it had all been a dream.
Nothing had happened.
She was still alone.
"—Xiaozhu?"
The bathroom door clicked open. A deep male voice sounded beside her ear, its trailing note lifting with a hint of amusement.
"Good morning."
Mingzhu's chest visibly rose and fell. She turned toward the voice and whispered, "Shang Chi?"
Shang Chi: "Mm, Just waking up? I went for a run around the neighborhood and just got back to shower."
As he approached, a faint mist of moisture drifted toward her.
Mingzhu stood rooted to the spot, the voice beside her continuing unhurriedly.
"I ordered congee last night. I'll fry up a couple of eggs later. Let's keep it light today. After work, we can go to the supermarket and pick up some ingredients for the house. How does that sound?"
"..."
All her panic and worry were gradually soothed away by the man's calm, gentle voice.
The pallor that had clouded her face slowly gave way to a return of color.
Mingzhu pressed her lips together, a faint smile touching her lips. "Okay."
She went into the bathroom to wash up.
Shang Chi walked into the kitchen, took two eggs from the refrigerator, and while waiting for the pan to heat up, lifted his eyes and glanced toward the bathroom.
Just now, when Mingzhu stood at the doorway, her profile was pale, her lips pressed so tightly by her teeth they had lost all color, her gaze empty and fixed mid-air.
It was as if... she was terrified.