Was he actually asking her to spend his birthday with him?

It was rare to see this domineering man showing such vulnerability. His sudden display of humility instantly dissolved the last of Tang Mi’s irritation. She glanced at his face and asked, “Is tomorrow really your birthday?”

“Sigh, why is it so hard to get you to believe me?” Arthur slumped back in his chair, covering his eyes with one hand in an exaggerated expression of helplessness, as if he were truly hurt.

“Well, that’s because you’re so good at lying. After all, deception is your profession,” she remarked, noticing the faint smile tugging at his lips. She wasn’t buying his act one bit.

“Alright, if my word isn’t enough, then surely an official ID from H Country won’t lie to you.” He smirked, pulling out his ID card from his wallet and placing it in front of her.

Tang Mi examined the card carefully, and sure enough, the birth date matched tomorrow’s date. She handed it back to him, biting her lip in hesitation. “But… I haven’t had time to get you a birthday present. What do you… like?”

“The gift I want most is already right in front of me,” Arthur said, plucking a blooming poppy from a flower pot and tucking it behind her ear. He held her hand solemnly to his lips and said, word by word, “And I hope to spend every birthday from now on with you. Is that okay?”

Tang Mi’s lips parted in surprise. His words carried a deep but unmistakably clear meaning: only a family member, someone who would stay by his side for life, would share a birthday with him every year. He wasn’t just asking her to spend a birthday together—he was asking for something she didn’t dare to name. That word was too distant, too heavy—a lifetime commitment. They had only known each other for a few months; how could she decide her whole future in such a short time?

The risk and suddenness of it made her heart race.

“I…” She instinctively tried to pull her hand away, but Arthur held it firmly. He gently pressed a fingertip to her lips, silencing her unfinished words.

“No, don’t answer just yet. I know this might feel rushed for you. You have five days left to think about my question before we leave here. For now, I want to take you somewhere fun,” he said with a smile, helping her up from her chair and placing a wide-brimmed white hat on her head.

Hand in hand, Arthur led her in a lighthearted run across the square. The breeze lifted her flowing skirt and ruffled the brim of her hat, which she held down as they ran.

A flock of white doves took flight at their passing, cooing and spreading their wings. An elderly man on a bench watched them with a gentle, approving smile. A few children released colorful balloons that floated toward them as Arthur’s warm, steady hand held hers tightly, leading her forward.

Ahead, the sky was a bright, vibrant blue.

Tang Mi hadn’t expected that the place Arthur wanted to take her was a small restaurant by the harbor.

It was still some time before dinner, so the restaurant wasn’t too crowded. Large trays of seafood, spread over ice, were already laid out on a long table, giving guests a preview of the evening’s menu.

A few sailors who had just come ashore were gathered at the bar, downing sherry in big gulps and whistling at the voluptuous, attractive waitresses. Their short, tight uniforms revealed bare, creamy thighs, making for a tempting appetizer before dinner.

Arthur led Tang Mi to a seat by the window, with a clear view of the sea, and called out to the bar, “Boss, two glasses of pastis!”

Behind the bar, a tall, slender man with dark hair and green eyes looked up and glanced at them with a cool expression before returning to his work.

A moment later, he came over with two small glasses, placing them on the table with a heavy hand and an unfriendly expression.

“With that scowl, you’ll scare away all your customers,” Arthur teased, taking a sip of his drink and smirking at the grumpy restaurant owner.

“You brat, you still remember how to come back. I thought you’d forgotten your own home!” The owner suddenly grabbed Arthur by the collar, pulling him out of his seat with a look of anger but with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Brother, I’m back,” Arthur said with a broad smile, letting the gruff owner tug at his collar.

The owner released him, then slowly grinned, landing a solid punch on Arthur’s chest before wrapping him in a bear hug and laughing heartily.

If Tang Mi hadn’t seen this man’s face in a magazine before, she would have never guessed that the man in front of her, in an apron and smelling like sherry and seafood, was Schumann.

Solomon Schumann, the legendary tycoon of the shipping world, a near-mythical figure in the business world for decades.

As if reading her thoughts, Schumann took a sip of his drink and explained with a smile, “This port is where our family’s fortune began. My great-grandfather saved up capital from this little restaurant to buy his first ship, and from there, he built his own fleet. This is our family’s ancestral home. No matter how busy I am, I spend one month each year here in the restaurant.”

“Does Arthur also come back regularly?” Tang Mi glanced over at Arthur, who was now chatting and joking with some sailors at the bar as he chopped salad, the sunlight illuminating his handsome face with a bright smile, as carefree as the ocean outside.

“Yes, but it’s the first time he’s brought a girl here.” Schumann clinked his glass with Tang Mi’s, his gaze lingering thoughtfully on the emerald ring on her finger. “That’s a beautiful gem.”

“It’s just glass, not real,” Tang Mi replied, feeling a bit awkward as she moved her fingers slightly.

The ring was a prop that Arthur had given her at first, containing a hidden signal transmitter to keep her safe. But for some reason, Arthur still hadn’t allowed her to remove the replica.

“No, it’s real. A top-quality Colombian emerald, crafted by the French jeweler Chaumet. In fact, it’s my mother’s keepsake,” Schumann said, lighting a cigarette, his tone as calm as the thin smoke rising from his fingers.

“Sorry, I didn’t know when I put it on. Arthur never told me.” Tang Mi suddenly felt a burning sensation on the skin beneath the ring, as though the large gemstone was weighing down like a stone on her heart. She considered removing it.

Schumann made a stopping gesture and continued, “No, don’t take it off. It’s a keepsake my mother left for Arthur, with the hope that it would one day be worn by his wife. In our town, there’s a superstition that if you put on an engagement ring and then take it off, it will bring misfortune to both people.”

“But he…” Tang Mi looked at Schumann, a sense of unease swirling in her chest like tangled yarn. An engagement ring? She suddenly remembered what Arthur had said when he put the ring on her: “This is the Solomon family crest, an honor reserved only for the clan matriarch.”

He hadn’t lied to her. From the beginning, he had planned it all, carefully laying out each step to bring her into his life.

He had loved her long before she even realized it.

With this thought, Tang Mi drained her glass, the strong pastis making her eyes sting with warmth.

Schumann glanced at her face and, with a smile, picked up where she left off. “I get it. That stubborn kid probably didn’t say a word back then, just took your hand and forced the ring on you, not allowing you to take it off, right? He’s been like that since he was little—extremely determined when it comes to something he wants, finding every way to seize what he desires, careful and strategic at every step. In that way, he resembles our father even more than I do, although Arthur isn’t his son.”

Tang Mi couldn’t help but laugh quietly, nodding in agreement.

They truly were brothers; Schumann understood Arthur’s personality and way of doing things inside and out.

“Arthur may have a strong sense of possession, but he’s not unkind or greedy. If he loves someone, he’ll give them the very best the world has to offer, even if it means giving up his own heart. When he was young, Arthur deeply loved my father, and to earn even a single glance from him, he would do everything to the best of his ability. Once, because of an offhand comment my father made, he went into the mountains alone and hunted a wolf; he was only thirteen at the time. But how could a young boy understand that no matter what he did, my father would never be moved, only grow to hate him even more—because Arthur is the illegitimate son my mother bore with another man.” Schumann took another swig of his drink, his gaze dimming as he tightened his lips in pain.

Setting down his glass, he looked directly at Tang Mi, his gaze calm but probing. “What I want to say, Miss Tang, is that if you decide to accept him, you need to be prepared for a husband who is domineering but deeply devoted. If you plan to turn him down, make a clean break—otherwise, he will do whatever it takes to hold onto you, until he wins you over. That’s just who he is. Having grown up deprived of love, he craves it more fiercely than anyone else, and in turn, he’s more fragile than anyone else. No matter what, I hope you’ll treat him kindly, my only brother.”

With that, Schumann nodded to Tang Mi, pulled out his chair, and returned to serving the other guests.

Tang Mi turned her face toward the window, watching the beautiful Mediterranean as the sunset cast delicate waves against the rocks, only for them to quickly recede—much like her current state of mind, unsettled and conflicted. She knew Arthur loved her, more deeply than she’d anticipated, and she loved him too, but that didn’t mean she was ready to marry him. Marriage was a foreign concept to her; Ma Jin had never found her a foster mother, so her sense of what it meant to be a couple was vague. Her only reference was her fleeting memories of her biological parents, two people who traveled the world with their camera, united by a shared passion.

But he was an agent who faced danger constantly, and she was a photographer who spent most of the year wandering the world. How could two such transient people build a stable, healthy family?

Just as two fragile straws could never support a castle.

Tang Mi lit a cigarette, the bitter taste filling her mouth as the sky gradually darkened.

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Author’s Note: Mid-Autumn Festival is coming—wishing everyone a happy holiday!

Also, Love in 35mm will be published soon, with an estimated release early next year. Please show your support when it’s out! The ending in the physical book will differ from the online version.