Yan Zhenze... He came to see me before.

Xu An'an didn't say anything more that day, and left the flower shop after saying goodbye.

As she opened the car door and got in, Yan Heng immediately looked over, his eyes filled with a slightly nervous inquiry. Xu An'an smiled at him and took his hand: "She knows who I am. She also knows you're here."

Yan Heng's jawline immediately straightened.

"She..." He opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to ask but didn't dare to.

"She feels indebted to you," Xu An'an said honestly, gently patting the back of his hand with her fingertips. "But I think she also wants to see you."

Yan Heng didn't speak, but turned his head to look in the direction of the flower shop.

He stared at it for a long time until it gradually got dark and the lights in the flower shop came on.

"Let's go," he finally said, his voice a little hoarse. "Come again tomorrow."

They went again the following afternoon.

As soon as the car came to a stop, I saw the door of the flower shop be pushed open.

Fang Jingyi stood at the door, still wearing the same beige shirt, clutching a cloth bag in her hand, as if she had been waiting for a while. She looked towards the car on the street corner, and the moment her eyes met Yan Heng's, both of them froze.

Xu An'an glanced at Yan Heng; his fingers were gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. She gently touched his arm: "Go on. I'll wait for you here."

Yan Heng unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door.

He was very tall, standing in the afternoon sunlight, his shadow stretching long across the stone path. He walked slowly toward the flower shop, each step deliberate.

Fang Jingyi stood at the door without moving, watching him approach.

As she drew closer, the small face etched in her memory slowly overlapped with the man before her. He had grown taller, more mature, with deep-set eyes and broad shoulders—he looked like an adult. But his eyes remained the same as when he was a child—dark and bright.

"...Xiao Heng".

She spoke first, her voice soft and trembling, almost lost in the wind.

Yan Heng stopped two steps in front of her.

His Adam's apple bobbed heavily, and after a long pause, he finally uttered a soft "Mom."

Just from that one word, Fang Jingyi's tears instantly fell.

She wanted to raise her hand to touch his face, but stopped halfway, awkwardly pulling it back and clutching the hem of her clothes, as if unsure where to put it. "You...you've grown so much."

"Mmm," Yan Heng replied, his voice a little hoarse.

The two people stood at the entrance of the flower shop, and passersby occasionally cast glances at them, but they seemed to be standing in another world.

The wind swirls up the fallen leaves on the ground, gently rolling past your feet.

"Come in and sit down," Fang Jingyi said, turning to the side, her voice softening. "I'll make you a cup of tea."

Yan Heng nodded and followed her inside.

Xu An'an sat in the car, watching the flower shop door close in the distance. The copper wind chimes swayed and then fell silent.

She didn't go in. This was their time, and she didn't want to disturb them.

The sunlight slanted in, falling warmly on the back of her hand. She knew that some things would finally come true today.

They talked for a long time that day, until the sun was setting and the golden-red light filled the whole street, before Yan Heng came out of the flower shop.

He walked slowly, his expression indifferent, revealing neither joy nor sorrow, but the tension in his eyes had dissipated. Back in the car, he turned to look at Xu An'an, then suddenly reached out and pulled her tightly into his arms.

"Thank you," he said, his voice muffled and slightly nasal, nestled in the crook of her neck.

Xu An'an didn't say anything, but gently patted his back.

Fang Jingyi ultimately did not agree to return to China.

She said she had spent too many years here; the flowers, the town, the slow pace of life had long become a part of her. Going back, she didn't know how to live anymore. More importantly, she didn't want to intrude into Yan Heng's life and disrupt his rhythm.

"It's fine as it is," she said to Xu An'an with a smile. "Knowing that you're all doing well is enough."

Xu An'an didn't try to persuade her anymore.

She understands this sense of proportion. Some debts cannot be repaid overnight. Maintaining distance and keeping each other well is actually the most comfortable state.

Before leaving the town, they used a local agent to buy a stone house with a small garden on the outskirts of town. It wasn't big, just two stories, with a front yard where they could grow some flowers and herbs. Standing at the second-floor window, they could see the church steeple in the distance and the lights of the flower shop on the corner.

"I'll come and stay for a while every year from now on," Xu An'an said to Yan Heng, standing in the garden. "Just treat it as a vacation."

"Okay." Yan Heng pulled Xu An'an into his arms.

They stayed in the town for another week.

Every morning, Yan Heng would accompany her to the bakery to buy freshly baked croissants, and then they would stroll to the flower shop. Fang Jingyi would brew tea and wait for them; sometimes they would chat, and sometimes they would quietly do their own things.

In the evening, the three of them ate dinner together in the yard and watched the sunset slowly sink behind the trees.

Yan Heng remained taciturn, but the corners of his mouth were always slightly upturned. Xu An'an could tell that he was genuinely happy. It was the kind of reassurance that came from the emptiness in his heart that had lasted for many years, finally being slowly filled.

On the evening before she left, after closing up business at the flower shop, Fang Jingyi called her to the small terrace in the backyard. White roses climbed all over the trellis, and when the evening breeze blew, the delicate petals fell down in a soft rustling. She handed her a small mahogany box, its edges polished to a shine, its patina warm and lustrous, clearly an old object that had been kept for many years.

Xu An'an took the box, opened the lid, and her eyes widened slightly.

Inside lay a plain white jade thumb ring. The jade was of excellent quality, translucent and warm, like half a cup of moonlight. However, the carving was very clumsy; the edges were not polished very neatly, and the lines were simple and immature. It did not resemble the work of a master at all, but rather the work of a novice, a waste of such fine jade. On the inside of the thumb ring, a small character "宜" (Yi) was carved, the strokes were deeply engraved, with a hint of stubbornness and disregard for consequences.

"What is this?" She looked up at Fang Jingyi.

"It was given to me by Yan Zhenze a long time ago."

Fang Jingyi gently touched the thumb ring with her fingertips, her gaze drifting far away, as if looking back to the old days more than forty years ago. "Back then, we were both young. He hadn't yet plunged headlong into the business and had spent a few days learning jade carving from a master craftsman. This was the first piece he made, and it was so ugly it was unbearable to look at. But he still insisted on giving it to me, saying that he had engraved my name on it."

A faint smile touched her lips, a smile that was hard to define—whether bittersweet or warm—like the wind turning the pages of an old book: "Things were indeed better for a while. But then…you probably know what happened next. So many things in this world change in an instant. Those who cling to things will only end up hurting themselves."

"I didn't bring anything with me when I came to England." Fang Jingyi withdrew her gaze, her tone as indifferent as if she were telling someone else's story. "Over the years, Yan Zhenze has contacted me many times, but I haven't met him. The last time, he asked someone to bring this over, saying that as long as I take this back to see him, he would agree to any condition I set."

As she spoke, she suddenly chuckled softly, a hint of self-mockery mixed with a sense of relief: "But what more can I ask of him? We've lived most of our lives together. Whether it was gratitude or resentment, it's all faded away long ago."

She gently pushed the mahogany box back in front of Xu An'an, her fingertips pressing on the lid with a light touch, yet carrying an unquestionable sense of entrustment.

"Take this back and give it to him."

Fang Jingyi looked into her eyes, her expression gentle yet solemn, "Tell him I have only one request."

"Let my son be with the woman he loves."