“Da Bo Niang, now that you’re back, don’t leave again. Da Bo missed you so much, he cried every night.”
Li Yaru burst out laughing, losing all composure.
Zhuang Qiting frowned as he heard this.
What was going on? Wasn’t this different from the agreed line?
Zhuang Qichen, hiding on the side, snickered and was promptly caught and glared at harshly.
With Li Yaru’s return, the Zhuang Residence finally felt complete.
It was no longer like past years, when everyone would surround Zhuang Qiting and ask—
Where did Da Bo Niang go? Is Da Bo Niang coming back this year?
Zhuang Qiting held Li Yaru’s hand as they walked in to pay respects to his parents.
Zhuang Shaozhang looked at his eldest son’s radiant face, equal parts amused and exasperated.
Wielding his cane, he gave him a swat. “From now on, treat Ah Rou well. Don’t drive her away again.”
Then, turning kindly to Li Yaru, “Xiao Rou, once you’ve decided, don’t regret it. Give him this chance, he won’t dare do such foolish things again.”
Li Yaru smiled and said, “Dad, I should thank you for giving me another chance back then.”
Zhuang Shaozhang gave a light hum, but was obviously in a good mood.
Even after moving out and divorcing, his daughter-in-law still called him “Dad” all these years, never once changing.
“Xinnian Kuaile, Dad, Mom.”
“Xinnian Kuaile.” Zhuang Shaozhang patted his daughter-in-law’s hand and handed her a prepared red envelope.
According to tradition, they first made offerings to the ancestors, then sat for the reunion dinner.
The enormous round table was filled with over a dozen people.
Li Yaru didn’t sit with Zhuang Qiting, but was pulled away by her sisters-in-law, all vying to sit beside her.
At each younger generation’s place setting was a red envelope, containing Pressure Money given out by Zhuang Qiting. This had been the custom for years.
After Zhuang Shaozhang stepped down, Zhuang Qiting became the King of the Zhuang Family.
Each year, he was the one who distributed the red envelopes.
Chen Weiqi, newly married into the Zhuang family, was attending her first New Year’s Eve dinner here.
She assumed everyone’s red envelope contained the same amount, so she opened hers along with everyone else.
Inside were eighty thousand in crisp new banknotes, consecutive serial numbers from Shenghui Bank, all in thousand-dollar denominations, plus a Check.
Curious, she pulled out the Check and, when she saw the amount, she was stunned.
Eight million eight hundred eighty-eight thousand.
All that for a ceremonial red envelope? How excessive!
The people around immediately clamored, protesting Zhuang Qiting’s unfairness—why did the second daughter-in-law get a Check, and everyone else just cash?
Zhuang Shaozhou shielded his wife, arguing with the flock of “ducks.”
Li Yaru also found it odd and glanced at Zhuang Qiting. He’d been waiting for this look, and smiled at her.
As the King of the Zhuang Family, Zhuang Qiting always carried an air of authority.
He knocked on the table with cool composure,
“The red envelope for Weiwei is more than yours, because it’s in recognition of her outstanding contribution to Family Harmony! Alright, let’s eat. Anyone who keeps making a fuss can stay behind to clean up.”
For contributing to Family Harmony… Once Li Yaru understood, her face burned.
How could it not be for Family Harmony?
Because of that iron ring, he got the Wish she promised—she came back to the Zhuang Residence for New Year.
Even when she trashed the office, she’d ended up with him anyway, even forced to call him “old man.”
This man was clearly riding high.
Li Yaru was so annoyed—how did he manage to get all the benefits? She ignored him throughout the reunion dinner.
Zhuang Qiting’s meaningful glances didn’t work, so he got up himself, pinched a glass of red wine between his fingers, and bowed politely.
“Ah Rou, Xinnian Kuaile, may you always be happy. This glass, I offer to you.”
A cunning glint flashed in Li Yaru’s eyes, but she stayed seated.
She just picked up her glass, meeting his with a haughty air.
The man stood while his glass was several inches lower than hers—she was like a queen, bestowing a cup of victory wine on the wolfish subject who had finally been tamed.
“Xinnian Kuaile, Zhuang Dalao.” Li Yaru winked, sipping elegantly.
The ruby-red wine moistened her lips.
Zhuang Qiting chuckled, unbothered by her pride, his affectionate gaze lingering on her crimson lips before tipping back his glass and draining it.
Perhaps for the first time in his life, he stood to toast someone who only deigned to give him three parts of face.
Three parts was enough.
Her sitting here, in what was once their home, was already the greatest honor he could ask for.
After dinner, a pack of energetic young men took off their jackets.
Four grabbed Zhuang Shaozhou’s legs, four grabbed his shoulders, hoisted him up, and mercilessly tossed him into the swimming pool to punish his arrogance at the table.
A great splash. The brothers laughed until they’d had enough, then scattered.
Li Yaru watched as her own son was bullied by his brothers.
Not only did she not help, she stood by and doubled over with laughter.
Zhuang Qiting took advantage of her good mood to sneak up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, leading her away to a quiet spot.
Luckily, the Zhuang Residence was huge, with sprawling buildings and plenty of peaceful corners even with so many people.
Behind them, the lanterns blazed, a row of glowing red orbs like planets against the night, swaying in the sea breeze.
The moonlight shone over the water, seagulls skimmed low, letting out long cries.
In this hidden spot, Zhuang Qiting’s true nature came out.
He impatiently gripped his wife’s waist, his breath hot with the scent of wine, his lips lingering at her nose, making her squirm and giggle.
“Hey—hey—Zhuang Qiting!”
“Call me old man, Baby.”
“Old… man!”
“…………”
Zhuang Qiting caught her squirming chin and kissed her deeply.
She’d just eaten cheesecake, her mouth sweet with the taste of cream.
The two of them kissed and embraced in the secluded garden, like young lovers hiding from their parents.
Zhuang Qiting locked their hands together, his fingers squeezing between hers, determined to intertwine their fingers, to make sure the ring on her finger was forever binding her to him.
When the kiss left her weak, Li Yaru’s eyes were misty as she leaned against his chest.
“You’re being silly again… Zhuang Qiting.”
Zhuang Qiting laughed low, his voice hoarse and satisfied. After holding her for a long while, he pulled a red envelope from his suit.
“This is for you, Ah Rou.”
This envelope was unlike the others—extra exquisite, with a handwritten message from the man himself: [May my Ah Rou always be young, always be happy—Qiting.]
“I get Pressure Money too?” Li Yaru was shy as a little girl for a moment.
She was nearly fifty, and here she was getting Pressure Money.
“I said, in my eyes you’ll always be Nineteen Years Old.” Zhuang Qiting kissed her temple.
Li Yaru opened the envelope. Inside were ten crisp thousand-dollar bills, and ten golden coins.
They looked different from ordinary banknotes—each printed with flowers and animals: camellias, roses, little squirrels, butterflies…
“What’s this?”
“These are Shenghui Bank’s soon-to-be-issued commemorative banknotes. This is the very first set, for you.”
This was truly a one-of-a-kind gift in the world.
Li Yaru smiled, stroking the fragrant bills with her fingertips. “There’s a camellia.”
“You like camellias, so I had the design department add one just for you.”
“You really… smuggling your private feelings into something like this.”
“So what? As long as you like it.”
Zhuang Qiting didn’t mind at all, and lowered his head, kissing her deeply. “Are you happy, tonight?”
“Mm.” Li Yaru nodded.
“I’m happy too, wife. Tonight, I truly feel you’ve come home.”
Li Yaru glared at him and tapped his chest with the banknotes. “We haven’t remarried, so stop calling me ‘wife’ all the time.”
“You’re my wife, no matter what.” Zhuang Qiting squinted and pinched her cheek.
The two of them found a random stone, sat on it, gazed at the moon rising over the sea, and said things they never would have in the past.
Zhuang Qiting still couldn’t help himself and asked, “Ah Rou, why won’t you remarry me?”
Li Yaru lowered her gaze, her toes brushing the neatly trimmed grass, the man’s warm scent surrounding her.
She nestled in the arms that had always made her feel safe.
She’d leaned on this embrace for decades, from when she was Nineteen Years Old to this very day, Nineteen Years Old all over again.
And she would for even longer—a lifetime.
She knew from the first moment she saw him, their destinies had become intertwined, tied in the world’s most complicated knot, one that no one could untangle, not even herself.
“Because…” She looked up at the moon, exhaling softly.
“I still want to date you. When we were young, you only ever threatened and coerced me—you never actually courted me properly.”
Zhuang Qiting’s heartstrings thrummed. So that was it.
Fate had both blessed and tormented them.
This odd couple, after divorcing in middle age, began to fall in love again, opening their hearts.
Other couples’ passion faded with age, but for them, middle age was just a new beginning.
Zhuang Qiting hugged his wife tightly, then suddenly laughed in helpless delight.
“Mm, we’ll date. We’ll be lovesick for a lifetime, wife.”
They would be in love all their lives, never reaching that day when the passion faded—because they would always hold the fiercest, most exuberant passion for each other.
They were a match made for life.