Ling Qianhe said he had found his mother's ashes—this was something Lin Muchen had wanted to ask before, but had never found a suitable opportunity.
He sat at the head of the plane, and Lin Muchen watched the clouds drift by outside. He had actually brought it up himself.
"Are you curious how I knew?"
Lin Muchen nodded obediently.
Ling Qianhe reached out and took her hand. His fingertips brushed against her palm, and then the corners of his lips turned up slightly—but with a hint of playful amusement.
"It's a secret."
Lin Muchen's eyes widened again!
She huffed indignantly, like a rabbit.
She was almost half-dead from anger at the accursed Ling Qianhe.
As for Ling Qianhe himself, he leaned close to her cheek and, with a movement as fleeting as a dragonfly touching water, kissed her cheek.
Lin Muchen's face immediately flushed red.
Was this—
Was this a case of hitting someone with a palm and then giving them a sweet date?
Ling Qianhe, he shouldn't think that, shouldn't think that doing this would make her forgive him!
But as Lin Muchen turned her head to look into his eyes, at his long, slender eyes, and at his pupils that, for an instant, seemed to reveal a trace of sadness, she pursed her lips, and the words she had intended to say suddenly stuck in her throat.
He had lost his mother when he was young.
He had been constantly on the move.
And he had been—
abandoned by her time and time again.
A villain who was utterly wretched.
He had given up on revenge against the world.
This was great love.
She felt she couldn't pressure him any further.
Lin Muchen felt guilty. The little system in her mind suddenly popped out, unable to resist grumbling to her.
"Ling Qianhe is just taking advantage of your soft heart... Host, please don't be fooled by him, okay? Ling Qianhe, this guy, he's—he's doing it on purpose!"
"He knows everything perfectly well, he's just using your soft heart. If you're soft-hearted, you lose!"
"Ling Qianhe, that little brat, is an actor."
"He's the best at acting."
"When has it ever been that he looked at you pitifully one second, and the next, the moment you softened, he'd devour you completely?"
"Haven't you suffered enough losses? Yet you're always tempted by his good looks and always fall for it..."
The little system chattered away to Lin Muchen.
Lin Muchen sighed.
Of course, she knew.
Nine out of ten times, Ling Qianhe's vulnerability was an act.
But—the crux of the matter was, even knowing it was an act, she still couldn't bear it.
Hadn't she already fallen for him? When facing the person she loved, as long as he showed a hint of vulnerability, she would inevitably feel pity.
After a moment of silence, Lin Muchen sighed softly.
"It's all karma."
"Destiny's fault."
She was merely muttering to herself, but Ling Qianhe beside her revealed a faint smile at the corners of his lips. He then leaned close to her, his lips lingering on hers, and Ling Qianhe asked her.
"What karma?"
"What destiny's fault?"
His voice was ardent, his breath brushing against her lips. She sat up a little flustered and then said.
"It's not karma, it's a match made in heaven!"
"Look, you like me, and I like you."
"We'll have a hundred years of harmony, sweetness, and honey, and a wedding night tomorrow!"
The little system in her mind couldn't bear to watch.
Its host.
When had she become so timid?
Ling Qianhe chuckled lightly.
"You think so?"
"Little Ci, you really are too uninhibited."
Lin Muchen looked up at Ling Qianhe with an innocent expression.
Bah, bah, bah, who was the one thinking that!
...
The plane landed at the island airport.
Ling Qianhe had bought an entire island to house his mother's ashes.
The light in his eyes sparkled. He grasped Lin Muchen's hand and walked towards the cemetery on the mountain.
His voice was clear and cold, with a hint of heartbreaking fragility.
"When I was little, I had a very hard time."
Lin Muchen hummed in acknowledgement.
"I know. No one knows better than I do..."
She had seen it.
She had seen him as a child.
No one knew better than she did how much hardship Ling Qianhe had endured.
Ling Qianhe let out a soft hum.
"Since you know, then how could you bear to abandon me?"
Lin Muchen: "..."
She immediately put on a guilty expression.
She had no answer to this question—it wasn't intentional.
It was just… a twist of fate.
She coughed and reached up to rub her nose.
She was contemplating whether to blame the system or the will of this world.
Ling Qianhe's fingertips slowly brushed aside her hair.
Her hair cascaded down.
Ling Qianhe said.
"No matter how many times you abandon me, I will always find you back."
Was he getting proud about it now?
Lin Muchen stared blankly at his eyes. The depths of his eyes seemed to ripple with boundless affection. He nodded slightly. She tilted her head up, hearing the light laughter in his breath.
"What, afraid I'll kiss you?"
He let go.
"Outside."
"I'm not that impatient."
Lin Muchen gave a soft "Oh."
She thought to herself.
Not that impatient outside?
Nonsense!
If he wasn't impatient, he wouldn't be Ling Qianhe!
...
He had brought flowers, white ones, very beautiful. There was only one place in the cemetery. He looked up at the photograph, a woman with delicate features and a beautiful, gentle face, who had not met a good end.
He gazed at it in silence.
His childhood memories had never faded. How he had watched his mother being murdered, this resentment had been accumulating in the depths of his heart for so many years.
He had never, not even for a moment, thought of giving up.
In his heart.
He had never forgotten.
And he could not let it go.
How could he let it go—this was his pain, this was his mother.
He stood before the tombstone and then, as if talking to himself, said.
"Mom, you don't need to worry, I'm living very, very well now. I have someone who loves me, and someone I love."
His voice was clear and cold, but coupled with his face, it unexpectedly conveyed a sense of peace. Lin Muchen walked beside him—she was supposed to be an emotionless task executor, but for some reason.
Her eyes welled up with tears for a moment.
Ling Qianhe continued to speak.
His tone was very serious.
"I will protect her."
"Even if it means going against the world."
"I will protect her."
"The past is irreversible."
"Tomorrow and the future are in my own hands."
"No one will ever take away the person I love."
He stood there, looking at the tombstone, and then slowly knelt down, performing three solemn kowtows. Lin Muchen, standing beside him, imitated his actions and bowed as well.
He watched her bow quietly and then called out to her.
"Wife?"
Lin Muchen's eyes widened.
"This is a bow to parents."
"Hmm. It's considered a marriage. The wedding banquet is the wedding banquet, but, you see, my mother must have liked you to the extreme."
He looked up towards the sky.
A rainbow was clearly hanging in the sky. He said.
"Look, she's very happy."
This was just a coincidence—Ling Qianhe then embraced her tightly. The rosy light of dusk, the clouds in the sky like brocade.
He leaned close to her lips, intently gazing at them, and then, without any hesitation, kissed her fiercely.
As if in a dream, his lips pressed against hers, pursuing her repeatedly—the white bouquet fell. His breath was close to her. Lin Muchen heard Ling Qianhe's voice, like strong wine, soothing all worries.
"I will love you forever, don't worry, I will definitely—lift you to the highest peak. The one I love, the whole world must know how wonderful she is!"