After Breaking Off the Engagement, The Young Lady Deeply Regretted It - Chapter 65

Visiting the Fan family again as Fan Qingyu’s lover, Jing Xiao brought a large assortment of gifts. Fan Shusheng had returned to his usual kind demeanor, while Fan Qingyu deliberately avoided his closeness.

Fan Shusheng didn’t seem to mind. He chatted casually with Madam Fan about Fan Qingyu’s future plans.

Fan Qingyu smiled lightly: “I already have my own plans. No need for Grandpa and Mother to trouble themselves.”

Fan Shusheng held her hand: “Alright, Xiao Yu has grown up. Tell Grandpa about it.”

Fan Qingyu calmly withdrew her hand and smiled perfectly: “Grandpa, we still have something to do this afternoon. Let’s leave first.”

With that, she didn’t wait for a reply from Fan Shusheng and took Jing Xiao’s hand, leaving the Fan residence together.

Jing Xiao wrapped an arm around her shoulders: “Why not stay for a meal?”

Fan Qingyu twisted open a bottle of mineral water and took a long drink: “I just… don’t really know how to face them.”

Jing Xiao gently rubbed her head: “It’s okay. You’ve done very well. We’ll take it slow.”

Having been abandoned by those closest to her, Fan Qingyu’s sense of intimacy with them had long vanished, but Jing Xiao didn’t mind. In her heart, whatever Fan Qingyu did was right.

This afternoon, however, they did have matters to attend to. Jing Xiao had recently called multiple renovation teams, rushing to refurbish her grandmother’s small courtyard.

The road leading there was a bumpy seaside highway. The zebra crossings on the ground had long faded, and the sea breeze whipped up a salty, damp chill. The city showed distinct seasonal characteristics: even on a sunny day like today, it carried a bite of winter. Coconut curled up in the backseat, shivering.

Jing Xiao closed the car window.

Nearby houses were old, mostly tiled or wooden homes like her grandmother’s, each with a large red “demolish” character painted on the door. The surroundings were empty and quiet. Jing Xiao rested one hand on the window and steered with the other.

Looking up at the clear blue sky, she asked casually: “Do you think there will be a moon tonight?”

Fan Qingyu leaned back in the passenger seat, watching the rocks under the bridge, waves crashing over them leaving layers of white foam: “There will be. The recent moons have all been full.”

The blue sea stretched far into the distance, merging with the sky. The car slowed and finally stopped on a deserted plot of land: “The last time we saw the moon together was during the Mid-Autumn Festival.”

Coconut immediately jumped out and started circling them, wagging its tail like a little propeller.

They walked along a cobblestone path until Jing Xiao’s steps paused in front of a large courtyard. The half-height wooden fence had been weathered by wind and sun and already decayed. Even after careful repairs, it only slightly regained its shape.

Coconut rushed in excitedly. Gingko and maple trees were ablaze with autumn colors, like the evening clouds of summer, layering the courtyard in warm tones. Ivy crawled over half the house. Jing Xiao took out a key and opened the gate.

The small courtyard had many seasonal flowers, some Fan Qingyu had never seen. Jing Xiao must have searched far and wide for them, making the whole yard appear vibrant and full of life. If not for the golden ginkgo and fiery maple leaves, Fan Qingyu would have thought it was spring.

Her smile never faded.

“It won’t be long before this place is flattened to make way for the cross-sea bridge,” Jing Xiao said wistfully, stepping over the threshold and touching the timeworn wooden door. She gently pushed it open. Inside, the scene unfolded before them.

A small bed by the window with tulip-patterned sheets, a recently refurbished fireplace filled with neatly stacked firewood, a handcrafted wooden table and small stools, and a semi-open balcony with a few potted succulents outside.

At first glance, the house gave the impression of a quiet, peaceful owner.

Fan Qingyu caught a faint smell of paint and sneezed.

Jing Xiao handed her a tissue, explaining the source: “It’s been vacant for too long. I had a renovation team come a while ago.”

“It’s fine. We don’t live here often anyway.” Fan Qingyu squatted and wiped the floor, spotless. She opened the windows, letting the cool sea breeze blow in, dispersing the lingering smell.

The wooden house had basic facilities and some seasonings and ingredients. Jing Xiao took out a small milk pot she had brought and plugged it in near the balcony.

“Xiao Yu, bring the tea leaves and brown sugar over. I’ll make milk tea for you.”

Fan Qingyu also got some milk: “Why not use the fireplace?”

“Just for show. For safety, it’s better to use this.”

It was too cramped for them both to stay around the pot, so Jing Xiao asked Fan Qingyu to go out to the balcony to enjoy the view while she concentrated on the stove.

The tea leaves browned and shrank under the heat, brown sugar bubbled, and Jing Xiao poured in the milk. A rich, sweet aroma filled the room.

The milk tea was just enough for two cups. Jing Xiao sat next to Fan Qingyu and handed her a cup. The small wooden chair creaked under their weight.

The vast plain stretched out, dotted with small hills and rocks. The hills were yellowed, with only the rocks rooted in the sea’s life.

It was cold outside, and the milk tea cooled quickly. Fan Qingyu took a small sip, tasting the rich, mellow sweetness. She placed the cup on the table and listened quietly to the roar of the sea.

She couldn’t imagine the sadness of seeing this ancient, memory-filled place flattened by modern machinery. She looked up at the sky, orange-red sunset reflecting in her eyes, a few migratory birds flying by, adding a sense of desolate beauty.

“I wonder,” she murmured, “will I be able to see this wooden house covered in wisteria someday?”

Jing Xiao held her hand: “You will. Trust me.”

No matter what, she would fulfill Fan Qingyu’s wish.

The sun sank below the coastline, and the sky gradually darkened. The house wasn’t suitable for cooking, so Jing Xiao ordered takeout. The delivery driver took over fifteen minutes to find the little house.

Jing Xiao didn’t mind the delay and brought Coconut, who had been playing wildly in the garden, back inside.

They opened the packaging. Fan Qingyu ate the pasta bite by bite, and only then did Jing Xiao start her own meal.

There was no heavy industry to pollute the seaside; stars were dense and bright. The moon emitted a soft, pearly light, reflecting in Jing Xiao’s eyes.

The sea breeze became gentle, no longer biting, blending with the damp scent of the ocean. Coconut whined nearby until Fan Qingyu gave it a piece of jerky, calming the little creature.

Fan Qingyu leaned back, the wooden chair carefully padded with a thin layer of fabric: “Xiao Xiao, I really like this kind of life.”

The two of them, along with their dog, were calm and peaceful.

“I like it too.” Jing Xiao finished her now-cooled milk tea, feeling sleepy even though it was only eight.

Fan Qingyu held her close: “I feel like in this atmosphere, I should say some sweet words.”

Jing Xiao’s fingertips tenderly brushed her eyelashes. Fan Qingyu’s lashes were thick, soft and tingling. Jing Xiao earnestly said: “The stars in your eyes are the best words of love.”

Fan Qingyu took her hand and placed it on her chest: “With you by my side, my eyes will always have stars.”

“Good. I’ll always be by your side. I promise.”

Unbeknownst to her, Jing Xiao’s eyes also sparkled with stars. Fan Qingyu traced her face: “I’ll make sure your eyes always have stars too.”

There was no need for more words. Time would speak for itself.

Their hair was lifted by the sea breeze, their unique scents filled the air. The sea swelled with starry reflections. The tide rose, covering the rocks, leaving only a few rounded protrusions visible.

Tonight was exceptionally peaceful. The cool wind rustled. The waves crashed magnificently, and her beloved was beside her.

The distant moon hung in the sky; the one she loved was in front of her.

The warmth in their hands would forever be engraved in their hearts. Jing Xiao leaned against Fan Qingyu’s shoulder and fell into a deep sleep.

Fan Qingyu didn’t move, afraid of waking her. She gently kissed Jing Xiao’s forehead: “Good night, my dearest wife.”

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