Chapter 69

It wasn’t until Ruan Qing finished speaking that she realized—how did they end up talking about having kids? Dating was one thing, having a boyfriend was one thing, but marriage was a whole different story.

She thought about clarifying, about saying “dating doesn’t equal marriage,” but then Nian Qi turned over, his arm wrapping around her. With her back against his steady chest, she could hear his even breathing. Ruan Qing held his arm, and, for some reason, the thought of marrying him didn’t feel like such a big leap after all, even though they’d only known each other for twenty days.

Ruan Qing had already come close to marriage twice before, so she wasn’t averse to it. Her parents had a happy, loving marriage, and growing up in such a warm environment had naturally filled her with hopes and dreams for her own marriage and family.

The next day, the two of them headed to the provincial registry office. They’d arrived so early that they had to wait two hours before they finally got his ID card. When they submitted the application in Luo County, the clerk had asked about Nian Qi’s surname.

“I don’t have one,” he had replied.

The clerk suggested, “How about choosing one?”

In the past, he’d gone by the alias “Zhao Si,” but now the name Zhao brought an annoying reminder of Zhao Hao. So he told the clerk, “Just keep it as ‘Nian Qi.’”

His name had no real meaning or sentiment; it was a codename etched into his bones. But when it was written on paper, they decided to use the characters “廿柒” instead of “廿七” because it looked more refined, as Ruan Qing suggested. (both pronounce as Nian Qi)

Now, standing outside the main office, Nian Qi held his new ID card, with his photo and the name “廿柒” neatly printed on it. The sun was so bright it hurt his eyes, and he squinted at the sky. Was this sky the same as the one he once knew? Probably not. They said there were parallel worlds, countless universes; this was surely a different one. He was no longer “Bingwu Nian Qi” but “廿柒,” a legal citizen with an ID.

Now he could walk down main streets, sleep peacefully, and show his real face. He could marry, have children, and grow old slowly, safely.

When he looked back, Ruan Qing was smiling in the sunlight. “How does it feel to finally have an identity?” she asked, amused.

Nian Qi felt a bit dazed. She lifted her hand, gently removing his mask, studying his handsome face. “No need to wear it anymore,” she told him.

Almost instinctively, he rubbed his face, looking at her as she smiled at him. “Now that you have an ID,” she asked, “what’s the first thing you want to do?”

What did he want to do? Nian Qi thought about it and realized that, most of all, he wanted to hold Ruan Qing’s hand and take her back home to her little apartment in Jiangcheng. There, he wanted to cook her a hot, comforting meal, complete with soup. Then, he’d sit across from her and watch her happily slurping it down.

Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air and filling the room with a warm, homey feel. Just imagining it felt beautiful. But now wasn’t the time; there was something more pressing to do. Those dreams of comfort would have to wait a bit longer.

“We need to go to Yan City to meet your parents,” he reminded her. “You did promise them yesterday.”

Ruan Qing’s face fell. “Ugh.” She checked the time. It was still early. “Let’s at least grab lunch here first,” she grumbled. “I even stayed at a hotel to avoid bumping into them, but they still managed to find me.”

Her family had a house in the provincial capital, but if she wanted to stay there, she’d have to call property management to arrange cleaning in advance. Her parents had even informed the property manager that if she moved in, they’d want to know. It was such a hassle.

“Come on, let me take you to one of my favorite restaurants,” she said, taking his hand. “The capital is way bigger than Jiangcheng, with so many more places to eat and explore. I wanted to show you around, but now I’m caught in my dad’s radar. Just my luck.”

The restaurant was inside a high-rise building, and Ruan Qing was clearly familiar with the area. Still, she didn’t expect to run into anyone she knew. Then again, perhaps she should have; despite the variety of places in the city, people within the same circle often frequent the same spots.

Nian Qi noticed her reaction when someone called out “Qingqing” from behind. She hesitated for a moment before turning around. Following her gaze, he saw a man in the distance. The man wore what he had come to recognize as a formal outfit: a white shirt under a tailored, long-sleeved suit jacket, with a strange tie around his neck, paired with black leather shoes.

Since arriving here, Nian Qi had seen many people wearing this style, called a “suit.” Although it was common enough, he could already tell there were clear differences in quality among suits based on the fabric and cut. Some looked elegant and refined, while others seemed cheap and basic. The man approaching them wore a suit that was unmistakably of high quality, tailored perfectly to his frame. He was fit, with a steady, confident stride that gave an impression of maturity and stability.

Before Ruan Qing even had a chance to introduce them, Nian Qi’s finely-tuned instincts had already guessed who the man was. Ruan Qing had often praised this man’s “stability”—he was calm, reliable, and steady in both character and actions. So this was him. No wonder; Zhao Hao couldn’t hold a candle to this guy. It was clear that Ruan Qing’s relationship with Zhao Hao had only been a distraction for her, something light and unserious.

The man, refined and composed, came up to them. He didn’t bother with polite greetings and instead asked directly, “You’re back?”

It was all so natural, a casual familiarity between them. Ruan Qing replied, “Yes, just on break, taking care of a few things.” As she spoke, she took Nian Qi’s left hand in her right. Without missing a beat, he clasped her hand in return.

The man smiled. “It’s been a while. You’re looking well.”

“So are you,” Ruan Qing replied smoothly.

Ruan Qing smiled and said, “I heard you became a father?”

The man’s smile deepened. “Yes, my second child was born last month.”

“Congratulations!” Ruan Qing beamed. “Boy or girl?”

“The first was a boy, and the second’s a girl,” he replied.

“Wow, one of each,” Ruan Qing congratulated him. “That’s wonderful.”

The man smiled and then finally turned his gaze to Nian Qi, noticing their clasped hands without letting his expression change. As expected—he was remarkably steady.

Ruan Qing glanced at Nian Qi standing beside her. His long hair was tied back in a half-ponytail, just the way she liked it, and his features were handsome and striking. He was young but composed, calm in any situation, even after traveling a thousand years forward in time. He could carry himself in the grandest of rooms or manage a kitchen. Right now, he was in the former.

“This is my boyfriend, Nian Qi,” Ruan Qing introduced him, then turned to Nian Qi, “This is He Ling.”

Ling(灵)—a character with eight strokes. Qi(柒) has nine. Good, he wins by one stroke.

He Ling extended his hand to Nian Qi. “Hello.”

A handshake. Nian Qi had never tried it before, though he’d seen it many times, so he reached out his right hand as well. “Pleased to meet you.”

The two men shook hands, each releasing the other without any tension or unspoken competition—no red-faced, knuckle-crunching attempts to show dominance. That kind of childish display might work with Zhao Hao but not with someone like He Ling.

Competing with He Ling in such a way would mean losing from the start. True competition should match wit with wit, strength with strength, aura with aura, and composure with composure. Trying to one-up a person in words by resorting to force? That would mean forfeiting the match before it began.

Besides, when Ruan Qing had introduced him as her “boyfriend,” it had been like a shot of confidence straight to his heart. There was no need to mark his territory with immature antics.

He Ling raised an eyebrow, curious about the rare surname “Nian.” He asked, “Where do you work, Mr. Nian?”

Ruan Qing’s new boyfriend had long hair, a trendy style, and was visibly younger than him. He was striking, with an impressive build that would turn heads even in a gym, attracting both men and women.

Nian Qi nodded, “Currently taking a break, not doing much.” His line of work as an assassin had come to a halt and likely wouldn’t resume. He didn’t know what he would do next.

He Ling was used to gauging people’s backgrounds accurately, yet now he found himself uncertain. Ruan Qing’s new boyfriend was reserved and sophisticated. His demeanor suggested wealth, yet his style was edgy and individualistic, not the air of an idle, entitled heir. There was something hard to pinpoint about him.

He Ling glanced at them. “Why don’t we join together?”

Ruan Qing smiled and declined, “We can’t—we’re heading to Yan City shortly and are a bit pressed for time.”

He Ling kept his smile, but Nian Qi, sharp and attuned to subtle shifts in mood, noticed that He Ling’s smile wavered slightly at the mention of “Yan City.”

Understandably so. Ruan Qing’s parents lived in Yan City, and her bringing Nian Qi along was a clear indication that she was introducing him to her family. Meeting the parents is a significant milestone in a relationship, symbolizing that he was not a casual boyfriend like Zhao Hao, who could be easily set aside.

He Ling didn’t linger. Whatever had been between them was over now—he was married, and she had a new love. Being able to say hello with a smile was as gracious an ending as they could ask for.

He Ling courteously bid them farewell, and Ruan Qing even raised a hand in goodbye. He gave her one last look. Two years apart had added a maturity to her that replaced her once playful nature with a refined composure. She was as beautiful as ever, yet now her features radiated confidence and sophistication.

As He Ling walked away, he couldn’t help but turn back for one last glance. Ruan Qing and her new boyfriend were walking hand-in-hand, neither looking back, leaving him with only their silhouettes. If he’d been more willing to discuss work and children with her back then, would the outcome have been different?

A feeling of wistful regret washed over He Ling.