Ci Ye lowered his head as Song Fu helped him wipe it.
After the guest room was tidied up, Song Fu urged him to catch up on sleep.
Ci Ye was indeed sleepy and went upstairs yawning all the way. It was fortunate this wasn’t his first time over; otherwise, showing up in the middle of the night and getting turned away at the door would have taught him a lesson.
Around nine in the morning, Song Fu received a call from Father Ci. He roughly confirmed that Ci Ye had indeed arrived at her place, then discussed the upcoming birthday banquet. The invitations had all been sent out, and everything had been prepared, so canceling at the last minute wouldn’t be appropriate.
“Mm.” Song Fu agreed it wasn’t appropriate. “I’ll bring him back together before tomorrow evening.” Booking a noon flight tomorrow would do.
Father Ci said some polite words about the inconvenience, then hung up.
Another hour passed. While Song Fu was explaining the situation to her grandmother, Ci Ye came downstairs rubbing his eyes and asked the cleaning auntie, “Is Song Fu still here?”
Song Fu, who had heard him from the living room, responded, “I’m here.”
She had already eaten a simple breakfast and asked the auntie to make some congee for Ci Ye.
Her grandmother nearby found it odd and gave Ci Ye, who was not far away, an up-and-down look. If she remembered correctly, wasn’t this kid the one who had called off the engagement? How were they still so close? “You kids just don’t know how dangerous the world is. Wandering around late at night—what if something happened? You’d regret it too late. You…”
When Ci Ye came over, the old lady swallowed the rest of her words. My goodness, this tall lad with broad shoulders and long legs—he’d make a fine fellow if he wasn’t the type to pick fights. “You’ve grown so fast, young man. It was pretty cold last night, wasn’t it?”
“A bit, but it was okay.” Ci Ye sat down next to Song Fu. Before he could settle in, a bowl of ginger soup appeared in front of him.
The old lady launched into her nagging mode again, saying how people these days didn’t know how to take care of their bodies, and once they got old and had chronic issues, they’d learn. Her leg pain on rainy days was something she’d gotten from her youth… She muttered on endlessly before suddenly changing the subject. “That engagement of yours—you only told me after it was set, and then canceled it a few days later. What was the reason?”
Ci Ye sat up straight, casting a resentful glance at the “chief culprit” beside him. With a numb expression, he said, “We just realized getting engaged in high school wasn’t good. We’ll talk about it after graduation. Studying is the most important thing right now.” He’d repeated this script so many times that even his own ears had grown calluses from it.
Song Fu chuckled guiltily and urged him to drink the ginger soup quickly. There was congee coming next.
Ci Ye had come specifically to celebrate his birthday together, so Song Fu didn’t hide anything when picking a cake. She directly asked her grandmother which local cake shop had the best taste. In the past, they’d always ordered from a fixed shop for Ci Ye’s birthdays, but now that they were in a different city, that wouldn’t work. “He doesn’t like ones that are too sweet.”
The old lady smiled. “No need to waste time on that. Aunt Liu’s cakes are pretty good. You can tell her what kind you want and even add stuff yourselves.”
Aunt Liu happened to bring over the congee. “Yeah, all the tools are ready—no need to prepare anything else.”
Song Fu propped her chin on her hand and nodded, lost in thought.
…
“Ci Ye, come with me. I have something to show you.”
Ci Ye stood up. “A birthday present?”
Song Fu opened her mouth. “Sort of, but it’s not from me.”
It wasn’t anything expensive, but it had been carefully preserved for over ten years—a video recording left by a mother who had foreseen her own death for her beloved child.
This item had originally been kept by Ci Ye’s mother’s friend, who was also Mother Song, to be handed over to Ci Ye on his eighteenth birthday.
In the original plot, it had been discovered by a twist of fate by the female supporting character, who later used it to threaten the male lead into distancing himself from the female lead. Of course, the male lead didn’t accept any threats, so the supporting character smashed the device… Later, the female lead fished the broken device out of the trash, saw the contents via the memory card, didn’t make a fuss right away, and chose to resolve the male lead’s heart knot the day before his eighteenth birthday—which was also the anniversary of his mother’s death.
Song Fu chose the same day.
Not to stick to the already derailed plot, but because she thought that at least on this day, Ci Ye should know his mother had never intended to abandon him—it was just fate’s cruelty.
Once in the room, Ci Ye heard the origin of the gift from Song Fu and stood there stunned, his sharp brows softening into bewilderment. “It’s from my mom?”
“Mm.” After handing over the belated gift, Song Fu gave a couple of instructions and prepared to leave this private space. But at the moment she turned, her wrist was caught.
Ci Ye hung his head, his messy black hair blocking his eyes. “Don’t go.”
So Song Fu sat down.
But the hand on her wrist didn’t let go.
It was hot, gripping tightly.
The video played. After a brief shake of the camera, a face appeared—one that had become somewhat unfamiliar to Ci Ye at some point, yet still so gentle.
Perhaps because he’d grown up, Ci Ye noticed the woman’s haggard, sickly pallor that she couldn’t hide.
“Mom never thought she’d get sick.”
The moment the woman’s voice sounded, Song Fu felt the hand on her wrist tighten. She turned her head to look at the person beside her.
Ci Ye stared fixedly at the recording.
The woman said a lot—how she’d cried bitterly the day she found out she was sick, how sorry she felt that she couldn’t stay by Ci Ye’s side… She really wanted to see what Ci Ye would be like as an adult, and she’d even worried about his rebellious phase, wondering what to do if they fought. She reminisced about so many of Ci Ye’s firsts: his first call of “mom,” his first fall, his first steps, his first illness… Full of nostalgia.
She hoped Ci Ye could be happy—happier still.
Then she said the most important thing she wanted to convey: I love you.
The video ended. Ci Ye covered his face with one hand, and the end of his exhale trembled.
Song Fu pulled out two tissues—one for Ci Ye, one for herself. It wasn’t enough, because her tears wouldn’t stop, just kept falling.
[Wuwu, too heartbreaking.] The System joined in the fun, squeaking away in its mechanical voice.
Once their emotions had calmed, Ci Ye didn’t comment on the recording. He just put it back in the small box and carefully stored it away.
He reached out, his thumb brushing Song Fu’s teary, reddened eye corner. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he just curved his brows helplessly. “How about a hug?”
Song Fu met Ci Ye’s equally reddened, tear-glazed eyes and opened her arms, giving him a big hug without hesitation.
The winter here was indeed warmer than up north.
As Ci Ye’s birthday approached midnight the next day, Song Fu bustled in the kitchen with Aunt Liu.
Her proper gift for him was a custom-tailored suit—after all, he was an adult now, and it would suit him well. But since they weren’t back home, she couldn’t deliver it right away. To make up for it, she decided to make a cake by hand.
There was no clumsily smearing cream on her face.
But Ci Ye wasn’t well-behaved, lunging to smear it on her face. After one swipe, Song Fu glared at him huffily, and he behaved.
As midnight neared, everyone else in the house finished up and went to bed, leaving the two young ones to their ceremony. Song Fu’s grandmother couldn’t stay up and wanted to take good care of the guest, so she insisted on giving Ci Ye the bracelet from her wrist as a birthday gift, saying it was too rushed for anything else prepared in a day, and it could go to Ci Ye’s future wife or whatever… Ci Ye glanced at Song Fu, gave up returning it to the old lady, and put it on Song Fu instead.
Everyone except Ci Ye was surprised, then burst into laughter.
…The small cake had flickering candle flames that reflected the same warm glow in the eyes of the two present.
“Happy birthday~”
Ci Ye pressed his hands together, closed his eyes for three seconds, then opened them and blew out the candles. “Okay, done.”
He had seriously pondered a question. “If I cut a piece and save it, how long could it last at most?”
“It’s so small—you should just eat it.” Song Fu suggested sincerely.
Ci Ye looked a bit regretful.
Song Fu added, “You can have more later if you want.”
Ci Ye’s expression instantly cleared from cloudy to sunny.
While removing the candles and cutting the cake, Song Fu asked curiously, “What wish did you make?”
Ci Ye raised a brow. “Didn’t I say I’d give my wish to you? The one about you being top of the school.”
Song Fu froze, opening her mouth. She hadn’t expected him to remember that. Clutching the soft pillow, she asked, “And yours? What were you originally going to wish for? Tell me—I’ll see if I can help make it come true.”
“Your wish?” Ci Ye showed an expression like he’d never considered it. After a brief hesitation, he grew bashful.
The moment Song Fu asked, she’d steeled herself mentally, thinking as long as it wasn’t too much, even a kiss would be fine to grant it. So she didn’t say anything, waiting for his answer.
Ci Ye cleared his throat lightly and placed the first slice of cake in front of Song Fu. Embarrassed, he said, “I want to hear you call me brother.”
Meeting Song Fu’s surprised gaze, he quickly defended himself. “I am older than you anyway, but you’ve never called me brother from childhood to now. I just want to hear it once—is that not okay? You even call…”
“I didn’t say no.” Song Fu raised her hand to stop him. She’d thought it was something major. “Isn’t it just a different way to address you?”
Ci Ye “mm”ed, waiting eagerly with puppy eyes.
Song Fu was about to say it, but under his stare, her face heated up, and the word wouldn’t come out. What was this? She patted her face, readjusted her mindset, and called out clearly and loudly: “Bro-ther!”
Ci Ye was stunned. “…”
He panicked. “Call me properly—it’s not like we’re swearing brotherhood. No need to shout.”
So Song Fu cleared her throat again and called in a normal tone: “Brother.”
“Brother—is this okay now?” She tilted her head.
Ci Ye didn’t say if it was okay, but his ears turned red first.