Chapter 22 — My Best Friend's Older Brother Took Responsibility for Me

I fell silent. Deep in my heart, a long-shattered memory seemed to be sprouting anew. Not because he was rich, nor because he was handsome, but because when he said *everything*, his voice was as calm and serene as when he uttered *No*. He needed no force; every single word he spoke was truthful to the core.

Five years later. I had opened the third branch of my styling design studio, staff growing from four to forty, annual revenue hitting 120 million yuan (equivalent to over 400 billion VND). I had never disclosed this figure to Li Hangzhi until one day he accidentally saw my financial report, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Hiding this from me?" "No need to brag—your company is a hundred times bigger than mine." "Big or small, you should report it." "Yes boss, I'll send quarterly reports from now on." "Mm."

Ye Zhiyi crossed her legs on the sofa, cracking melon seeds. "Can you two couple PDA somewhere else? I'm sitting here like a streetlight pole." "Don't you have a boyfriend?" "Different! My boyfriend isn't as rich as my brother!" "All you know is money." "What else?" Yuan Yuan curled up asleep on her lap; Dou Dou rested his chin beside Yuan Yuan, breathing steadily. One cat and one dog had officially become a legitimate married couple; Yuan Yuan gave birth to three orange kittens, inheriting 100% orange fur, chubby and round, lined up on the stairs. Every time Li Yingqiu came home, she held the kittens reluctantly. "Hi Bao, should we name these three little ones?" "How about Big Yuan, Second Yuan, Third Yuan, Mom?" "Too casual! How about Gold Yuan, Silver Yuan, Bronze Yuan?" "Mom, they're cats, not medals." "To me, they are medals." Ye Ding'an sat reading the newspaper without looking up. "The way she pampers those cats like grandkids is more attentive than raising our three kids." "Of course—cats don't make me angry."

News of Wen Ruyue had been absent for a very long time. Ye Zhiyi mentioned she moved to a southern city, opening a flower shop, occasionally posting artistic photos on Moments—thinner, but looking much brighter. She cut off contact with the Ye family and never inquired about me. Chu Yan's story was even more distant—after fleeing back to Jiangcheng, he changed jobs, dated someone new, but broke up within three months. Rumor had it he moved elsewhere as a sales representative, locking his Moments. All this info I heard casually from mutual acquaintances—neither caring nor inquiring. Those people and stories were like withered leaves of a past season; blown away by the wind, the matter was settled.

It was the weekend. Li Hangzhi rarely rested at home; today he wore a white linen shirt with the top button undone and read a book on the balcony. The white tea scent drifted in the air—identical to the scent I first caught in the G63 five years ago. I leaned against the balcony door watching him. He turned a page, then looked up. "What are you looking at?" "Looking at you." "Is it handsome?" "Don't know—I've watched for five years without getting tired, so probably handsome." He closed his book, stood up, and slowly walked toward me, lowering his head. The white tea scent blended into his close breath: "Then watch for another fifty years."

Wind rustled through the monstera leaves. In the distance lay rolling mountains. Today's sunset was breath-takingly beautiful.