Her ears turning red had been bluntly called out by Lu Jin’an, and with him addressing her directly as “Mrs. Lu,” Gu Nianyi had no defense against it.
It wasn’t just her earlobes—her cheeks and neck visibly flushed as well.
They were like the sweetest summer peaches, pink and tender, dusted with the most natural blush.
Gu Nianyi raised her palm and fanned herself, trying to cool down. “It’s so hot out. This late summer heatwave has been brutal lately.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. The subtropical high was stubbornly dominating the land, and the typhoon out at sea was moving too slowly to bring any relief.
Still, late summer was fading into autumn, and no matter how the heatwave struggled, it was on its last legs. The nights were already turning cool.
Her excuse might fool a child, but it fell apart instantly in front of Lu Jin’an.
The window was still open, and a cool evening breeze slipped inside, fluttering the gauzy curtains and raising goosebumps on her arms.
The man smirked childishly. “Yeah, pretty hot. Let’s crank the AC to 21 degrees.”
Before the words had even left his mouth, Lu Jin’an lifted his long leg and strode toward the door, heading straight for the control panel.
Twenty-one degrees!
Even in the peak of summer, that would freeze a person solid.
Gu Nianyi spun around and grabbed his arm. “Dr. Lu!”
But Lu Jin’an had only taken one step out before stopping midway. She moved too fast and collided straight into his chest.
Caught off guard, Gu Nianyi covered her face and stumbled back two steps. He caught her wrist, steadying her.
Lu Jin’an’s expression was stern. “I’m right here. What’s up?”
Gu Nianyi tilted her head up and said earnestly, “Dr. Lu, you’re a doctor—you know better than anyone. The AC can’t be set too low. Twenty-six degrees is perfect. It’s exactly twenty-six outside anyway, so we don’t need it. We should live a low-carbon life.”
“Us, huh.”
Lu Jin’an stretched out his long arm and scooped up the folder from the bed. “Marital property—we’re in this together. No need for ‘borrowing’ between husband and wife, Mrs. Lu.”
He carefully tucked the bank cards back inside and placed it in Gu Nianyi’s palm. “Keep this safe.”
Every time, just a few words from Lu Jin’an could unravel her problems and lift her spirits.
He pulled her right out of her rut.
Gu Nianyi didn’t know exactly what method he’d used—he never told her, only that he didn’t want to see her upset.
The next morning, Lu Jin’an sent her a contract signed and thumbprinted by Li Huiling.
The agreement stated that Li Huiling would never ask her for money again, borrow money, or use the debt of raising her as leverage.
Around noon, Li Huiling called to say she was heading home first.
Gu Nianyi took half a day off and arranged a ride-share to see her mother off.
There were no tearful goodbyes between mother and daughter, no heart-to-heart talks.
Autumn winds blew south, and the parasol tree leaves drifted down.
Sending her off like a guest?
Just as the car door was about to close, Gu Nianyi couldn’t hold back. “Mom, don’t eat the leftovers. Take better care of yourself. Don’t put all your energy into Gu Mingxuan.”
These were words she’d bottled up for over a decade, finally spilling out.
She’d spent her whole life toiling for this family, but perhaps her mother’s heart was too small—once it held her little brother, there was no room left for her.
From childhood to now, she’d always played both the strict parent and the soft one, all by herself.
Their father had been almost entirely absent from their upbringing. Fatherly love was supposed to be like a mountain—immovable, but his was utterly inert.
It had made no difference at all.
If her mother was the executioner carrying out the favoritism, then her father was the accomplice through inaction.
Gu Nianyi wasn’t one for hysterics. She’d learned young to swallow her tears.
Li Huiling’s expression softened, a rare sight. “Eat more—you’re too skinny. If you can’t get used to the food there, I’ll mail some back to you.”
Too late. Far too late.
There was no need for it anymore. She didn’t even feel like crying.
She’d once imagined exploding at her parents—why the blatant favoritism toward her brother? Why never consider her feelings? Wasn’t she their child too?
Now, she didn’t even want to argue.
From here on, no more interference. That would be enough.
Just don’t come bothering her anymore.
For the sake of their mother-daughter bond, let’s end it with some dignity.
Gu Nianyi smiled without replying and signaled to the driver that it was time to go.
As the car door shut, it sealed not just the road between South City and Blue Mountain, but twenty-four years of mother-daughter ties.
Severed. Completely severed.
She had no family left. Truly none.
Gu Nianyi watched the black sedan ahead grow smaller and smaller until it vanished around the bend.
Childhood memories, long buried, surged in like a tidal wave.
Her mother used to braid her hair, buy her new dresses.
She’d stay up all night, heartbroken, when Gu Nianyi was sick with a cough.
She’d chase off the bullies when other kids picked on her.
Then everything changed.
She became the big sister, shipped off to her grandparents’, never to be tucked in by Mom again.
She had to care for her brother—if he cried, it was her fault.
All the fruit and snacks in the house went to him first.
She became the ignored one.
“You’re the big sister—you should do this, you should do that.”
“You’re the oldest—you know better.”
No one remembered she was still a child too.
When had it started?
After her brother was born? Or had it been decided the moment she came into the world?
After that day, Li Huiling never asked her for money again. Instead, she occasionally checked in on whether Gu Nianyi was eating and sleeping well.
Gu Nianyi never responded. She blocked Li Huiling, letting the chat sink to the bottom.
By chance, she saw on Moments that Li Huiling had signed the contract and bought that dream house for her son—the keys would be ready by year’s end.
Such a joyful milestone to celebrate. It had nothing to do with her, so she blocked her mother’s Moments too.
What about her own house? Would she ever have one?
Life was so long—would she get the chance?
Time flew to September 22nd—Gu Nianyi’s real birthday. Only Ming Yue and her grandparents remembered.
Ming Yue messaged her right at midnight: 【Baby, happy birthday. And not just today.】
Her grandparents called first thing in the morning.
There was one other person she’d almost forgotten: her online friend “X.”
X: 【Happy birthday. May everything go your way.】
The same simple wish came with a gift—a plush toy, her favorite.
“Rose” made landfall in Nanjiang Province—South City’s province—at 3:05 p.m. as a super typhoon.
Coastal areas whipped up fierce gales and torrential downpours.
Rose—what a lovely name for a typhoon, if only it weren’t so ferocious.
Gu Nianyi had to work the shift. Someone came to relieve her at 10 p.m.
The heavy rain hadn’t hit South City yet, but the biting winds arrived first, emptying the streets of their usual bustle.
With the typhoon bearing down, Gu Nianyi canceled the birthday plans Ming Yue had made.
After her shift, she drove home and spotted a cake shop downstairs. She hit the brakes, got out, and went in to buy one.
Even someone who hated sweets made an exception on their birthday.
Only one small cake remained. A little girl greeted her sweetly: “Welcome!”
Her almond-shaped eyes curved into a smile, bright and innocent like a fawn’s.
After a full day of work, she was still bursting with energy. Youth was truly a gift.
The selection was slim. Gu Nianyi peered through the glass case and asked sheepishly, “Hi, which one’s not too sweet?”
“The matcha one.”
Gu Nianyi bought a slice of matcha tiramisu and sat down to eat it in the shop.
The glass window shielded her from the howling wind outside. Watching the leaves whip through the air, she wished for a moment that it would carry her away too.
She scooped up a bite and slipped it into her mouth. The cream’s sweetness mingled with matcha’s bitterness on her tongue.
Delicious. Incredibly so.
The one person in the world who should remember her birthday most hadn’t sent a single message all day.
The cake was faintly bitter, just like her life.
The January 8th on her ID was a fake birthdate she’d given to dodge a fine.
Back then, family planning was strict. Some places had a “one-and-a-half child” policy: if the first was a girl, you could have a second—but the births had to be at least two years apart.
She and Gu Mingxuan were only a year and a half apart.
The family faced a hefty penalty.
In the end, to protect him, they fudged her age upward. She was destined to sacrifice for her brother.
Eight months wasn’t long in a lifetime—just a brief sliver.
But to a child, it was an eternity.
She had to adjust to being older overnight, starting school a year early as the actual youngest in class.
Always a step behind, unable to keep up with the older kids, who left her out.
She dreaded kindergarten but had no choice.
Mom had no time to comfort her. She didn’t want to worry her grandparents, so she’d cry herself out after school before heading home.
As a kid, she’d hated herself.
Why was she such a crybaby? Why so quick to tears?
Just like now.
A bright young voice piped up. “Sister, here—candles for you.”
The girl hesitated, seeing Gu Nianyi’s eyes closed in a wish. “And this strawberry cake’s on me. It’s sweeter. Happy birthday—may your life from here on be sweet too.”
“Thank you.”
Gu Nianyi’s eyes brimmed with misty tears as she accepted the cake.
A single strawberry perched on top—adorable.
The shop closed up.
The part-timer said goodbye to Gu Nianyi; her dad had come to pick her up.
They braved the wind and headed east.
Gu Nianyi clutched her strawberry cake and drove west.
Back home, the apartment was pitch black. Lu Jin’an wasn’t there.
A dim night-light glowed. Nian Gao lay curled in her bed, fast asleep.
She crouched down and stroked Nian Gao’s head. “Good thing I have you.”
Her gaze drifted to the wine cabinet nearby. It was filled with bottles that Lu Jin’an’s friends had gifted him, none of which had ever been opened.
For some reason, Gu Nianyi reached in and pulled out a bottle. The label was all in English letters—she didn’t recognize the brand.
The corkscrew sat right there beside it. Gu Nianyi mimicked the motions she’d seen on TV, slowly drilling it in before pulling out the wooden cork.
She grabbed the bottle and a plain glass cup, then pushed open the door to the second bedroom.
She just wanted to spend some time alone in the empty room.
Gu Nianyi kicked off her shoes and sat down on the floor. She took a careful sip of the first taste but couldn’t detect any flavor.
The second sip was bitter and astringent. It wasn’t good at all.
In the distance, the streets lacked their usual strings of red taillights. The streetlamps stood alone, facing down the typhoon.
One by one, those streetlamps resembled illusory candles. She made a wish.
【I hope tomorrow is a little happier.】
Her thoughts turned to her university days. Once, her roommate had celebrated a birthday and treated them all to dinner. Midway through, the roommate called her parents.
Her roommate’s mother had sounded overjoyed. “Baby, happy birthday. My sweet girl is happy every day—I’m so blessed to have given birth to you nineteen years ago.”
That genuine joy shining in her mother’s eyes was a light Gu Nianyi had never seen before.
Later, on her own birthday, Gu Nianyi had sent her mother a message: 【Mom, it’s my birthday today.】
Li Huiling’s reply was something she would never forget.
【Your birthday is the day of my hardship as a mother. How could I have the mood to celebrate?】
No “happy birthday.” No birthday gifts.
But it wasn’t like that for her little brother. They bought him cakes and presents. They sang him birthday songs.
She hadn’t chosen to be born into this world. She hadn’t had any say in the matter.
All she really wanted was to hear her mother say it just once: “Happy birthday.”
Just one time would have been enough.
Her tears mingled with the wine.
What had once been bitterly astringent now tasted utterly flat.
And her heart ached even more.
Unbeknownst to her, Gu Nianyi drank nearly half the freshly opened bottle.
When Lu Jin’an got home from work, he headed straight to the master bedroom as usual. The room was utterly silent.
No one was waiting for him.
He hurriedly pulled out his phone and sent a message: 【Where are you?】
A muffled sob drifted from the direction of the second bedroom. Lu Jin’an followed the sound.
Was that Gu Nianyi crying?
He placed his hand on the doorknob but pulled it back just before turning it.
He would give her a little more time alone.
Instead, he called Xie Yunting. “Put Ming Yue on the phone.”
By coincidence, Ming Yue was right there beside him.
“She was really off today. Do you know why?”
Ming Yue thought for a moment, then decided to tell him the truth. “It’s her birthday today.”
She shared some of the details with him.
After hanging up, Ming Yue began blaming herself and moved to head out. “I should have stayed with her today.”
Xie Yunting held her back. “Trust Lu Jin’an.”
Lu Jin’an strode downstairs. He rummaged through the fridge and the storage room, gathered what he needed, and returned upstairs.
Gu Nianyi was still crying.
Without pausing, Lu Jin’an picked up her favorite cat plushie and pushed open the door.
In the dim yellow light filtering through the window, he made out Gu Nianyi’s figure. The young woman sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, her back slender and fragile, cold and ethereal—like a white magnolia blooming amid a fierce winter blizzard.
The man sat down beside Gu Nianyi and kept her company in silence.
Gu Nianyi clutched the cat plushie to her chest and stopped her tears. Two strands of hair fell across her forehead. “Dr. Lu, I’m sorry. I drank your wine.”
Her voice came out hoarse and raspy.
Lu Jin’an asked her softly, “Was it good?”
Gu Nianyi shook her head. “No, it was really bitter and astringent.”
She never wanted to drink it again.
The two of them sat there side by side, neither breaking the quiet.
“Dr. Lu,” the young woman said through choked sobs, her voice growing fainter, “if they don’t like me, then why did they bring me into this world?”
Lu Jin’an didn’t hesitate. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Gu Nianyi, pulling her close against him. Right by her ear, he murmured, “Gu Nianyi, welcome to this world.”
His low, magnetic voice, so gentle, lingered in her ears as he continued slowly.
“Happy birthday to one-year-old Gu Nianyi.”
“Happy birthday to two-year-old Gu Nianyi.”
“Happy birthday to three-year-old Gu Nianyi.”
“Happy birthday to four-year-old Gu Nianyi.”
“Happy birthday to five-year-old Gu Nianyi.”
…
“Happy birthday to ten-year-old Gu Nianyi.”
…
“Happy birthday to eighteen-year-old Gu Nianyi. Happy adulthood.”
…
“Happy birthday to twenty-four-year-old Gu Nianyi.”
Birthday blessings for every year from one to twenty-four.
Lu Jin’an made up for every single one.
It was like feathers lightly tickling her heart. Tears spilled from Gu Nianyi’s eyes uncontrollably.
They soaked into his white shirt.
Her shoulders trembled faintly. Lu Jin’an tightened his arms around her back, holding her as if she were a fragile treasure, gently patting her.
For as long as Gu Nianyi cried, Lu Jin’an held her.
All her sadness poured out in a torrent of tears.
“Dr. Lu, I’m sorry. I got your shirt wet,” came Gu Nianyi’s muffled voice from within his embrace. On any other day, she would have pushed him away immediately. But now, she clung to the warmth of his arms.
“It’s fine.” Lu Jin’an glanced at his silver watch. “It’s 11:55 now. Your birthday isn’t over yet. Come blow out the candles.”
Gu Nianyi sat up from his embrace and wiped her eyes. She took a clear look at the cake.
It was a simple one made from fruit and tea lights, glowing with a warm yellow light.
The air was filled with the fresh, elegant scent of camellias.
Lu Jin’an’s tone was uncharacteristically tender. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your birthday, so I didn’t prepare a gift.”
Gu Nianyi looked up at him. “It’s okay, Dr. Lu. Thank you.”
Her eyes were red at the corners, shimmering with tears that reflected like dewdrops.
A smile curved her teary eyes, slipping straight into Lu Jin’an’s heart. “For every birthday from now on, I won’t miss it. I won’t forget the gifts.”
“Just a ‘happy birthday’ is enough.”
She didn’t ask for much. A simple blessing would do.
As long as someone remembered.
Lu Jin’an shook his head. “No, that won’t do. It wouldn’t sit right with my conscience.”
Gu Nianyi blinked in surprise. “Dr. Lu, you’re being a little rebellious.”
“Ready to go back to bed?”
“Yeah.”
Lu Jin’an picked up the wine bottle from the floor. Nearly half was gone. “You drank this much and you’re not drunk?”
Gu Nianyi flashed a bright smile, smugly declaring, “Nope! I told you, Dr. Lu—I’ve got a great tolerance for alcohol. No problem at all. I can even walk a straight line for you right now.”
Her posture didn’t waver in the slightest. She wasn’t bluffing; she really wasn’t drunk.
She was just a bit more lively than before.
After two good cries, Gu Nianyi’s mood had improved quite a bit. She hugged her cat plushie and returned to the master bedroom.
She slept facing away from Lu Jin’an, clutching the plushie to her chest.
Outside, the wind howled wildly, but the vacuum-sealed glass kept out the storm’s roar and the pelting rain. It was a rare pocket of tranquility.
But Lu Jin’an couldn’t sleep.
A man who usually enjoyed perfect sleep quality—who could drift off in under three minutes—lay awake with insomnia.
The scent unique to her lingered on his palms. Her warmth seemed to still cling to him, along with those teardrops that had fallen onto his shirt.
Her sobs, her sorrow—they lingered in his mind, impossible to shake.
Anyone else probably would have been better at comforting her.
They wouldn’t have just let her cry it out.
He had no experience giving gifts to others. For his parents’ anniversaries or birthdays, he’d buy a handbag and call it done. His grandparents preferred fine antiques and jade carvings.
What did she like?
Handbags? Jewelry? Clothes?
The young woman had cried herself out and was now fast asleep, her eyes puffy and swollen. Lu Jin’an had no idea how long she’d been at it.
Happy people heal a lifetime with their childhood.
Unhappy people spend a lifetime healing their childhood.
That saying was familiar to many.
Lu Jin’an’s search page finally landed on 【How to cheer up a girl?】
He closed it and switched to 【How to cheer up your wife?】
Suddenly, Gu Nianyi rolled over. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she murmured in her sleep, “Dr. Lu, thank you for being here.”
He had welcomed her to this world.
A tear slid from the corner of her eye, landing on the back of Lu Jin’an’s hand.