Chapter 20

On New Year’s Eve, Luo Song invited Mu Jinpei to dinner and specifically told him to bring Ji Xingyao along. He also brought Zhou Yuxi.

He didn’t work overtime today. After leaving the hospital, he went straight to the dance troupe to pick someone up.

Zhou Yuxi came out of the building with Yin He, the two chatting as they walked.

Yin He asked with concern, “How have things been?”

Ever since Zhou Yuxi’s future mother-in-law had caused a scene in the troupe’s lobby, her infertility had become the latest gossip among the dancers.

Even though Yin He had stressed in meetings that no one should add to Zhou Yuxi’s mental burden, the troupe was full of women—and therefore, full of rumors. Privately, she couldn’t control everyone’s mouth.

Zhou Yuxi knew what Yin He was worried about. She looped her arm through Yin He’s. “I’m fine. It’s long past. You know me—spring-like personality, bendable but resilient.”

Yin He felt guilty. “It’s my fault for not protecting you.”

Zhou Yuxi said, “Please don’t say that, Master. Who could’ve predicted that incident? Besides, isn’t gossip part of human nature? If it were me, I might’ve wanted to find out what happened too.”

She smiled gently and added, “Master, allow me to be a bit sentimental today. You might not know this, but you’re the person I trust the most. I’m like a kite—wanting to fly high and see far. If you’re holding the string, I feel grounded.”

She had started studying under Yin He at age eleven and had followed her for over a decade. After Yin He returned from San Francisco, Zhou Yuxi—because of Luo Song—joined the current troupe with her.

To Zhou Yuxi, Yin He was more than a teacher, she was also like a mother, a friend, and a benefactor.

She changed the topic to something lighter. “Guess who I’m having dinner with tonight?”

Yin He smiled knowingly. “Has to be Luo Song.”

Zhou Yuxi nodded. “And Xingyao and Mu Jinpei. The four of us are celebrating New Year’s together.”

Yin He paused mid-step. “You all… know each other?”

“Mm-hmm.” Zhou Yuxi explained, “Luo Song and Mu Jinpei were childhood friends. They drifted apart as they got older, but those early bonds are different. They run deep.”

Yin He felt reassured. She hadn’t known much about Mu Jinpei before, but birds of a feather flock together. If someone as outstanding and considerate as Luo Song was his friend, then Mu Jinpei couldn’t be bad.

The two parted in front of the building. Zhou Yuxi headed for Luo Song’s car, while Yin He’s car pulled up. The window rolled down, and she was surprised—then smiled. “You’re free tonight?”

Ji Changsheng replied, “Sort of. I’m learning from the younger folks—we’re going out for New Year’s too.”

Yin He got into the passenger seat. Ji Changsheng was driving himself tonight, with the chauffeur and others following in a second car.

“I have too many dietary restrictions. Going to restaurants is too much trouble for the chef.” Yin He had to maintain her figure, so all her meals were nutritionist-curated: low oil, low salt, low calorie—and many ingredients she disliked. Eating out was always a headache.

Ji Changsheng said, “We’ll eat at home. I’ll cook.”

Yin He rested her chin in her hand and looked at him. “You haven’t cooked in years. I bet you’ve forgotten half of what you knew.”

The last time he’d cooked was after Xingyao was born, during her postpartum confinement. For that whole month, he personally prepared all the meals and handled nearly everything himself.

Later, work got busy—for both—and they barely had time to eat at home together.

Ji Changsheng said, “I can still manage boiled vegetables.”

Yin He smiled, then brought up Mu Jinpei. “So Jinpei and Luo Song are friends. That puts my mind at ease. Luo Song is one in a million, and Yuxi is such a kind child. It’s good for Xingyao to have more friends like them.”

Ji Changsheng responded with a simple “Mm,” eyes on the road as if focused on driving.

He already knew about the connection between Mu Jinpei and Luo Song. He had long since investigated Mu Jinpei’s social circle.

When they got home, Ji Changsheng took off his coat and went straight to the kitchen. Yin He followed him in. “You’re really cooking?” She thought he’d just been saying it casually.

Ji Changsheng rolled up his sleeves. “The chefs are off for the holiday. If it doesn’t taste good, you’ll have to bear with me.”

Yin He was going to help. She changed clothes and put on some light music.

In the kitchen, Ji Changsheng was busy washing vegetables.

It had been years since they had relaxed like this. Both had been tied up in their careers and raising their daughter—there was little time for leisure.

Now that their daughter had grown up and their careers were stable, her relationship with Ji Changsheng still felt as fresh as when they first fell in love.

Ji Changsheng had fallen for her at first sight, after watching one of her ballet performances. Back then, she was just twenty-one. After a year of dating, she married him.

They hadn’t planned on having a child so early. Xingyao had been a surprise—she became pregnant during the peak of her career. After much deliberation, she chose to temporarily leave the stage to have the baby.

After the birth, Ji Changsheng took care of everything: diaper changes, night feedings—he did it all, which made things easier for their nanny.

Their daughter was practically raised by him, spending most of her time before age three at the Ji Group headquarters.

Later, Ji’s parents urged them to have another child. In their traditional mindset, they wanted a grandson to inherit the family business.

But Ji Changsheng insisted on not having more children. He knew how much she loved the stage where her life was.

Yin He snapped out of her thoughts and headed into the kitchen to help. “Let me wash the vegetables.”

Ji Changsheng stopped her. “Make me a cup of coffee instead.”

In all their years of marriage, the only thing she could make aside from dancing was coffee—and even that wasn’t great. Her coffee tasted about as bad as Xingyao’s.

As they talked about their daughter, a message came from Ji Xingyao:
[To my dearest beautiful mother, Happy New Year! Where are you and Dad being romantic tonight?]

Yin He recorded a short video of Ji Changsheng busy cooking in the kitchen and sent it back:
[My husband is cooking me a feast.]

Ji Xingyao replied:
[Is that staged or is Dad cooking?]
As far back as she could remember, her father had never cooked—or even stepped into the kitchen much.

Yin He texted back:
[He really can cook. When I had you, all the food was made by your dad.]

Ji Xingyao:
[Next time I come home, I’m going to give Dad a big compliment. You’re the luckiest woman in the world. Love you! I’m at the restaurant now.]

Ji Changsheng noticed Yin He is smiling at her phone. “What are you looking at?”

“Chatting with Xingyao.” Yin He set her phone down and took out the coffee machine. “She said I’m the happiest woman in the world—and I think she’s right.”

Ji Changsheng was about to turn off the faucet but paused, then left the water running.

If not for what had happened before he met her—if they were just the three of them living a peaceful life—then she would be the happiest woman in the world. He had no ulterior motives, and all his time and heart were for her and their daughter.

If only he had met her a few years earlier… If they had gotten married and had their daughter sooner, maybe he wouldn’t have been entangled in the grudges with the Gu family, wouldn’t have done something he regretted to this day.

But there were no “ifs” in life.

Time couldn’t go backward.

—

That night’s dinner was at a restaurant Luo Song had reserved. He didn’t choose a private room, just a table in the lively main hall to soak in the festive New Year’s vibe.

Though the four of them all knew each other, it was the first time they were sitting down for a meal together.

Ji Xingyao was dressed beautifully that night, wearing the “glass slippers” Mu Jinpei had gifted her.

Before the food arrived, she and Zhou Yuxi chatted idly—mostly about Yin He and ballet.

“Want to step outside for a smoke?” Mu Jinpei asked Luo Song. They couldn’t really join in on the conversation.

Luo Song hesitated, then got up to go. He rarely smoked—only when family matters overwhelmed him to the point where he needed an outlet.

In the smoking area, Mu Jinpei held out a hand.

Luo Song looked confused, then realized belatedly, “You didn’t bring cigarettes?”

“No,” Mu Jinpei said, then asked, “You didn’t bring any?”

Luo Song patted his pockets with both hands and shrugged.

Neither of them wanted to go downstairs to buy any, so they just stood by the window for a while. Luo Song pushed it open slightly, and the cold wind rushed in. The air was crisp and refreshing.

“Does your head still hurt these days?” Luo Song asked with concern.

Mu Jinpei replied, “No, it doesn’t.”

Luo Song teased, “Looks like love can cure a troubled mind.”

Mu Jinpei didn’t respond—there wasn’t much he could say.

Since being with Ji Xingyao, his headaches have disappeared completely. He still hadn’t figured out why.

He changed the subject. “Everything settled with your family?”

Luo Song sighed and leaned back against the windowsill, facing away from the window. He didn’t speak for a long while before finally saying, “My mom doesn’t accept Yuxi, but I’m definitely marrying her.”
It was a deadlock—one that couldn’t be untied.

Neither of them said anything more. They stood quietly for a while.

Eventually, it was time to head back to the restaurant.

Some of the food and drinks had already been served on the table, along with a rainbow cake.

Zhou Yuxi never drank alcohol; she used fresh juice to substitute for a toast. She raised her glass to Mu Jinpei and Ji Xingyao. “Thank you both.”

She turned to Ji Xingyao and said, “Thank you for making me look so beautiful in the poster.” Then to Mu Jinpei, she added, “Thank you for being a blabbermouth.”

As she spoke, she smiled.

When Luo Song’s mother had come to the dance troupe to confront her, Zhou Yuxi had been on the verge of breaking down. She hadn’t expected Luo Song to arrive so quickly to pick her up when she found out Mu Jinpei had told him what had happened.

That day had been hard to get through. But with Luo Song by her side, she endured it.

Not wanting to dwell on unpleasant topics, Luo Song shifted the conversation. He placed the cake in front of Zhou Yuxi and Ji Xingyao. “I ordered this just for you two—had to book it three days in advance. The chef only made thirty tonight. It’s a ‘Rainbow Wishing Cake.’ Make a wish before you eat—it’s supposed to be magical.”

Zhou Yuxi didn’t believe that kind of thing. She made a wish on a rainbow cake every year and none had ever come true.

Ji Xingyao looked at Mu Jinpei beside her. “Want to make a wish with me?”

Mu Jinpei didn’t believe it either. “If you make a wish, maybe it’ll come true.”

Ji Xingyao tilted her head and met his eyes, her gaze playful. Then she leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “I hope that in the first week of the new year, I can fulfill a long-held wish—that you’ll be my model. But I’m not sure if God will hear me tonight. He’s probably very busy.”

Mu Jinpei: “…”

So this was how she made wishes—clearly a trap for him.

“You should wish to God. Saying it to me won’t help.”

Ji Xingyao smiled slyly. “Aren’t you taller than me? Tall people are closer to God—he’ll hear it better if you pass it along.”

Mu Jinpei glanced over at Luo Song, mentally blaming him for bringing up this wishing cake nonsense.

If he agreed to her wish, what would happen to that painting?

He stayed silent for a few seconds and ultimately didn’t respond.

Ji Xingyao had expected that. She didn’t press him and simply started eating the cake. No wonder it needed to be pre-ordered—she rarely came across desserts this soft and delicate.

While she was eating, Mu Jinpei leaned toward her ear and said quietly,
“God asked me to pass this on—tonight, one of your wishes will come true. You’ll receive many pairs of shoes you love.”

Ji Xingyao looked up at him. So, he was still refusing her request to be his model. Still, the gift of shoes wasn’t bad. She said with a sigh, “How much money did God give you? Enough for how many pairs?”

There was still a bit of white cream on her upper lip. Mu Jinpei wiped it off with his thumb. “I’ll pay first. Buy as many as you want.”

He turned to Luo Song. “Xingyao and I are going downstairs to walk around. We’ll be back soon.”

The dinner would last until after midnight. Knowing Ji Xingyao and Zhou Yuxi might get bored, Luo Song had chosen a restaurant located above a shopping mall, so they could browse stores between courses.

“You two go first. Yuxi and I will go after you get back.”

The mall started from the sixth floor up. They took the elevator directly from the restaurant—no coats needed. Mu Jinpei held Ji Xingyao’s hand as they went down.

“I used to think Mu Jinpei was the cold, heartless type who wouldn’t know how to pamper a girlfriend. I thought dating him would be boring,” Zhou Yuxi commented, watching them walk away. “Turns out he’s actually pretty considerate.”

Luo Song poured her more juice. “Not surprising. When you really like someone, you want to give them everything good. If your heart’s in it, you naturally become considerate.”

Zhou Yuxi raised her glass for a toast. “Happy New Year. Happy 14th anniversary.”
They had started dating in junior high. Fourteen years—half her life.

With no one sitting across from them, Luo Song lowered his head and kissed her.

The lively main hall, dim lights, and cheerful music made for the perfect setting for that kiss.

Mu Jinpei and Ji Xingyao arrived on the second floor and went straight to her favorite brand’s boutique.

The sales associate still remembered Ji Xingyao—she was the woman who had once walked in, didn’t try anything on or even look at the styles, and bought every pair of heels over 10 centimeters in her size.

Mu Jinpei told the associate, “Bring out all the size 37 flat shoes. Every style. Let her try them on.”

Ji Xingyao was very cooperative. She tried on shoes for over half an hour and finally chose six pairs.

Mu Jinpei glanced at the ones she didn’t pick. “Pick a few more. Make it ten pairs.”

Ji Xingyao tugged at his sleeve. “Why are you liking my dad? Always insisting on buying things in even numbers. I can’t wear them all—I still have unopened pairs at home.”

Mu Jinpei didn’t reply. He turned to the sales associate and said to go ahead with all ten pairs. Then he called the driver to come pick them up and take the shoes to the car.

When they left the store, Mu Jinpei asked if she wanted to browse other shops.

Ji Xingyao shook her head. “I’m not really into shopping. Let’s go back and let Yuxi and Luo Song have their turn.”

The restaurant was on the 16th floor. They got there quickly.

Stepping out of the elevator, Ji Xingyao walked ahead, still holding Mu Jinpei’s hand. She suddenly stopped and turned back.

Mu Jinpei asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just happy. Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed him on the lips. “Happy New Year. All the luck I’ve had over the years was just so I could meet you.”

Mu Jinpei looked into her eyes—just now, that kiss and that line was clearly traps. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall right in.

And even knowing it was a trap, he still wrapped one arm around her and picked her up.

Ji Xingyao instinctively put her arms around his neck, her toes just barely off the ground.

Finally, Mu Jinpei gave in. He leaned toward her ear and said in a low voice,
“You can paint my back view—but only if you keep it for yourself. No exhibitions, no giving it away. Never let it out of your hands.”

Then, he kissed her back.