After spending a day exploring the university, Yu Yao’s identity remained undisclosed. So far, only a few neighbors and some old friends of Jiang Zhonglin knew about her identity. These people weren’t ones to spread gossip, so Yu Yao and Jiang Zhonglin’s situation remained private, and their lives were undisturbed.

One day, Jiang Zhonglin received an invitation from the Hai City Literary Association. Officially named the Hai City Literary Research and Creation Association, it was established decades ago and was a prestigious and exclusive organization, including many retired professors from renowned universities. Jiang Zhonglin was a member, given his connections in the field.

The association had an annual tradition of a funded trip, where members and their families were invited. Jiang Zhonglin received this year’s invitation with some hesitation and went to ask Yu Yao about it.

Yu Yao was surprised, “A trip with the Literary Association?”

Jiang Zhonglin answered gently, “Yes. I didn’t go last year, but this year several friends specifically messaged me, hoping I would join. I didn’t want to refuse. We usually don’t get to meet up often, so this is one of the few opportunities. What do you think? Do you want to come along?”

Yu Yao replied, “I’m just a jobless gamer. Do you really need to ask if I’m free?” She glanced at the electronic invitation and looked at the location.

It was not far, at a wellness and ecological farm at the foot of a nearby mountain.

“Of course, I want to go. Have you been there before? Is it always like this with these wellness farms?” Yu Yao asked casually.

“No,” Jiang Zhonglin shook his head, “Trips like this aren’t held every year. I’ve only been a few times. Years ago, we went further afield, including abroad. A few years ago, we went to Dunhuang, but some of the older friends got sick midway and it nearly turned serious, so the association decided to stick to shorter trips.”

Despite the elderly members’ enthusiasm for exploring famous mountains and rivers across the country, destinations deemed too dangerous or far were avoided. When some members expressed dissatisfaction, the association, wary of offending anyone, started contacting families directly. As a result, the trips now usually involve visiting farms, fishing villages, and fruit orchards.

It was still a way to get a change of scenery. While packing her bags, Yu Yao asked, “Are there people going who know about us?”

Jiang Zhonglin replied, “Two friends know.” He helped Yu Yao neatly fold and pack the clothes she had tossed into the suitcase.

Yu Yao tossed her underwear next to him and turned to find her coat. Since Jiang Zhonglin mentioned the farm would be cooler and the weather had indeed cooled down recently, she needed to bring some warm clothes.

“Should you tell them I’m your wife?” she asked.

Jiang Zhonglin replied, “……I’m mostly worried you might find it troublesome. I don’t expect many people to bother you once they know, but you’re young, and people might be curious about your experiences. So, you can decide how to handle it yourself, based on your own feelings.”

Yu Yao looked at him, “Why do you want me to make all the choices?”

Jiang Zhonglin, with a calm expression, shared some wisdom, “Only you can choose your own life; others have no right to decide, even if I’m your partner.”

Yu Yao had no response. Since coming here, Jiang Zhonglin had told her many things and given advice on some matters, but he never made any decisions for her. While this showed respect, it also made her feel he was overly formal. Jiang Zhonglin might have feelings for her, but this subtle distance often frustrated her.

Perhaps it was due to their brief year of marriage. She felt like the dog that used to wag its tail and lick her nonstop, but after being away for a long time, had become an old dog. She knew it still thought of her, but the enthusiasm was gone, and though it still looked up at her with affection, she felt unhappy about the loss of intimacy.

The old dog looked puzzled as his young wife suddenly became stern, leaving her half-packed luggage behind and going out with an umbrella.

“What’s wrong?”

Yu Yao, expressionless, replied, “I’m going to buy a chicken to make soup for you tonight.”

Jiang Zhonglin: “???“

On the day of the Literary Association trip, the weather cleared up. It was September, autumn had arrived, and the group boarded a bus to the farm. Leaving the city, they entered a lush, green world where the air was fresh and different from the city’s atmosphere, lifting everyone’s spirits.

Yu Yao opened the window, letting the breeze touch her face, and dozed off amidst the gentle bumps of the bus and Jiang Zhonglin’s conversations with others.

The two people near Jiang Zhonglin, who were about his age and familiar with him, were among the ones who knew about Yu Yao. So, when Yu Yao got on the bus and was introduced by Jiang Zhonglin, she greeted them. Not everyone was comfortable with someone from forty years in the future, and one elderly man looked a bit awkward, while the other couldn’t help but stare at her out of curiosity. To avoid making them uncomfortable, Yu Yao chose not to engage in their conversation and slept through the ride.