Guangjing welcomed Qing Yun with late-spring clarity.
The sky above the museum complex was a pale blue, sunlight glinting off glass and stone. Inside the main hall, voices remained low, restrained by the quiet authority of history. Scholars moved in measured steps, badges swinging lightly against dark suits and linen dresses.
Qing Yun stood near a display case, listening as a curator explained the restoration process of a damaged Qing-dynasty manuscript. Her posture was relaxed, her attention precise. When she asked questions, they were practical, grounded—born of hands that had actually done the work.
Someone beside her murmured, "Master Shen's apprentice?"
She nodded politely. "Yes."
The conversation flowed easily after that. Techniques, paper fibers, climate control. The language of preservation. By the time the session ended, Qing Yun felt a familiar calm settle into her chest.
Guangjing no longer felt like a place she had fled to.
It felt like a place she had grown in.
---
After the event, she lingered briefly in the courtyard, replying to a few messages. One name paused her thumb mid-scroll.
Wei Ran.
She hesitated for only a second before typing.
> I'm in Guangjing today. Are you free? I wanted to check on you.
The reply came quickly.
> Wow. Madam Gu remembers old friends now?
She smiled at the screen.
> Don't exaggerate.
> Give me an hour. Coffee?
> Sure.
Simple. Clean. No weight.
---
The café they chose was tucked into a quiet side street, the kind with large windows and worn wooden tables. Qing Yun arrived first, ordering tea and settling near the window.
When Wei Ran walked in, she almost didn't recognize him.
Not because he looked drastically different—but because he looked lighter.
His shoulders were relaxed, his smile unguarded. The edge of weariness that once clung to him had softened into something warm.
"You're early," he said, sliding into the seat across from her.
"You're late," she replied calmly.
He laughed. "Still sharp."
"And you," she said, studying him, "look… human."
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that a compliment?"
"It is."
They laughed together, easy and familiar.
For a moment, it felt like time had folded neatly instead of tearing.
---
"So," Wei Ran said, stirring his coffee, "what brings you back to Guangjing? Don't tell me you missed the smog."
"Cultural event," she answered. "Museum collaboration."
He nodded appreciatively. "Of course. You'd end up somewhere like that."
"And you?" she asked. "You look… happier."
He paused, then smiled. "Life's been kind lately."
She didn't press. She didn't need to.
After a beat, Qing Yun spoke again. "I wanted to apologize."
"For?"
"For the scandal. You didn't deserve that."
Wei Ran waved it off lightly. "Please. I've survived worse rumors. At least this one made me look like a decent human being."
She smiled, relieved.
"My agency handled it," he continued. "Clarified things. People moved on."
"I'm glad," she said sincerely.
He looked at her for a long moment. "You don't need to carry that. Back then, helping you wasn't a sacrifice. It was a choice."
"I know," she said. "That's why I wanted to say it properly."
He nodded. "Then it's done."
And it was.
---
They talked about trivial things after that.
Old school anecdotes. Ridiculous memories neither of them had thought about in years. He teased her about always choosing window seats. She teased him about his inability to cook anything besides instant noodles.
They laughed—real laughter, the kind without subtext.
At one point, Wei Ran said, "By the way… congratulations."
She tilted her head. "For?"
"Your marriage." His tone was warm, sincere. "You look good. Not just married-good. Life-good."
She accepted it easily. "Thank you."
"You deserve it," he said. "Really."
She believed him.
---
When Qing Yun checked the time, she stood. "I should go."
"Someone picking you up?" Wei Ran asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes."
They stepped outside together.
A black car pulled up across the street. Ze Yan got out, tall and composed, his gaze finding Qing Yun instantly.
Their eyes met. She smiled.
Ze Yan nodded politely at Wei Ran.
Wei Ran nodded back.
That was all.
No awkwardness. No lingering glances.
Just acknowledgment.
---
Inside the car, Ze Yan glanced at her as they pulled away. "You look happy."
She leaned back against the seat, lips curving faintly. "Of course."
"Why 'of course'?"
She turned to him, amused. "Because I have you."
He chuckled softly, reaching for her hand.
Outside, Guangjing's streets passed by in a quiet blur. Qing Yun looked out the window, feeling something settle into place.
Some chapters didn't need dramatic endings.
They just needed to be lived through—until they became memories warm enough to smile at.
---