Volume One, Chapter 163: Sang Sang...

It was late at night when the plane took off from the Paris airport. The air around Lu Jinnian was filled with the excited chatter of his employees.

In the finals that had concluded earlier that day, the Chinese delegation had swept the gold, silver, and bronze medals, becoming the center of attention at this year's International Architecture Competition. The Lu Corporation’s "Desert Oasis" had taken home the silver. Given that the initial goal had simply been to place, winning silver was considered an extraordinary achievement. The architects were beside themselves with excitement; though they didn't voice it, they were privately certain that their year-end bonuses were secure.

Lu Jinnian, however, was not in high spirits. To his subordinates, this was merely the standard, inscrutable demeanor of the "Big Boss." But Lu knew exactly why he couldn't bring himself to be happy.

He had spent years working hard, driven by the desire to build a home—for Sang Wan, for their son, and for their future. But at this moment, he didn't know what he was striving for. He felt utterly exhausted, and every time he closed his eyes, he was haunted by the image of Sang Wan holding the championship trophy, surrounded by the elite architects from the Lou Corporation.

Ribbons fluttered in the air. The lights sparkled brilliantly. The sounds of excited cheering and laughter filled his ears. At the center of the crowd, the radiant, beautiful, and immensely talented Sang Wan was the focal point. Journalists vied for her attention; on camera, Sang Wan looked elegant and poised, her bright, joyful laughter embodying the brilliant spirit of a modern Chinese woman. Any shot of her could have served as a magazine cover. Every photographer felt as though she were looking directly into his lens.

But from the periphery, Lu Jinnian saw clearly: Sang Wan was looking at Lou Ye. And outside the throng, Lou Ye was looking at Sang Wan. Across the vast sea of people, the two of them, gazing at each other from afar, looked like the most beautiful frame in a motion picture. The scene was so beautiful it stung his eyes. It stung his heart.

"Daddy, why aren't we waiting for Mommy to go back together?" Lu Xiaomu asked, turning away from the window after watching the clouds for a while.

Lu Jinnian ruffled his son's hair, answering with a non sequitur: "You miss Mommy, don't you? When she gets back, you can go visit her over the weekend, okay?"

Lu Xiaomu nodded, curled back into his pillow, and closed his eyes.

The lounge fell silent. Lu Jinnian opened his phone and went into his photo gallery. Scrolling from start to finish, every single photo featured a shimmering, radiant Sang Wan. It had only been three days since the preliminary rounds, yet it felt as if all of Paris knew that China had produced a female architect of extraordinary beauty, elegance, and talent. The media had covered her relentlessly. Photos of her were countless.

Lu Jinnian swiped through them, looking closely.

When a photo of Sang Wan in a wedding dress appeared on the screen, Lu Jinnian’s breath hitched. He swiped back to see a photo in front of the Eiffel Tower, with Sang Wan crouching beside Lu Xiaomu, mother and son smiling brilliantly. He swiped forward to a solo portrait from their wedding day, showing Sang Wan after she had finished her hair and makeup, looking at him with shy, tender eyes.

He had changed phones countless times, but he had always transferred this gallery directly. Yet, at this moment, it felt as if the intervening six years had been wiped away, as if they had never existed. Lu Jinnian searched back and forth, and after a long time, he covered his face in defeat.

The pregnancy. The birth. Watching Lu Xiaomu grow up day by day, starting kindergarten. In the beginning, Sang Wan would send him photos of everything—a wildflower she saw by the roadside, a stray kitten she snapped a picture of in their neighborhood. But as his replies grew fewer, or stopped altogether, she sent less and less. He had assumed those beautiful moments they shared existed only within their WeChat conversation history. And yet, he hadn't even saved those happy moments.

*Lu Jinnian, you are such an utter bastard!!!*

As the thought surfaced, Lou Ye’s two arrogant provocations echoed in his ears once more. His heart hammered—fast, then slow. Lu Jinnian’s lips turned pale as he clutched his chest, gasping for air.

***

"Cheers!"
"Cheers..."

In the hotel banquet hall, a small celebration had just begun. Clinking glasses one by one, Lou Ye laughed, "Everyone, thank you for your hard work over the past two months! Everything is reflected in your bonuses and year-end rewards; feel free to check your pay stubs when you get back! Cheers!"

"Thank you, Mr. Lou!"
"Thanks to Architect Sang for her brilliant inspiration..."
"Wishing Mr. Lou and Architect Sang a sweet life together, growing old as a couple!"

Someone had started it, and seeing that while Sang Wan looked embarrassed, Lou Ye wasn't angry—in fact, he smiled even wider—the others followed suit. Well-wishes for a long, happy life together echoed through the banquet hall. The celebration felt like a small wedding reception.

Lou Ye, who had originally intended to have one drink and leave so the staff could celebrate to their heart's content, ended up drinking too much.

"I thought you had a pretty high tolerance?" Sang Wan muttered, supporting Lou Ye into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, he leaned his entire weight against her. "Feeling miserable now, aren't you?"

"Not miserable at all!" Lou Ye shook his head, pulling her closer. Because of the alcohol, his eyes were unusually bright. As he spoke, his breath, scented with wine, washed over her neck, making Sang Wan feel as if she were becoming intoxicated herself.

They had barely entered their room, before she could even reach for the touch panel, she was interrupted by Lou Ye, who took her by the arms, circled her waist, and kissed her.

"Sang Wan..."

His hazy kisses drifted over her lips, followed by hot, eager breaths against her ear. Lou Ye whispered, "Do you have any idea how beautiful you were on that stage?"

Sang Wan, speaking eloquently during the semifinals, had been like a magnolia in full, vibrant bloom—elegant and grand. During the finals, her calm, composed answers made her seem like a cunning, agile white fox in the deep forest, effortlessly dismantling her competitors' challenges with witty remarks that drew waves of laughter and applause throughout the exhibition hall.

In countless moments, Lou Ye felt as if he were back in the university auditorium, watching the cool, composed senior he admired deliver an impassioned speech. It made every vigorous young student in the audience look like a potential rival—a nuisance. But as he snapped back to reality, realizing that the Sang Wan of today was his, his heart was filled with nothing but contentment.

"Sang Sang..."

His breath was scorching. Lou Ye kissed her lingeringly. "The way you shine... you’re so beautiful it’s mesmerizing!"

*Sang... Sang?*

In countless moments of passion, Lou Ye would kiss her collarbone and nibble her earlobe, always accompanied by that fervent, dazed "Sang Sang." She had once thought it was just the heat of the moment. But at this instant, the call was crystal clear.

Sang Wan felt a sense of destiny, a shift in time and space. The inspiring speech. The thunderous applause. In the crowded university auditorium, young, impulsive juniors had shouted, "Senior, you're amazing!" or "Senior, I love you!" That "Sang Sang, I love you" had struck her ears just like that. But looking up, the audience had been pitch black. She couldn't see anyone, didn't even know where the voice had come from. She had dismissed it as a prank and hadn't taken it to heart.

But Lou Ye’s "Sang Sang" strangely overlapped with that voice from back then.

Sang Wan’s breath hitched. "What... what did you call me?"