Chapter 36: The Great Vacation Begins

Jingjing froze for two seconds: “T-that…”
Her little finger was already pulled over and gently tapped. “All set, Miss Qiao—now it’s all up to you.”

“Jingjing, are you tired?”
“Huh? I…?”
“I rented a tandem bike from the hotel. Fancy taking a nighttime ride around West Lake?”

“Sure! I want to see Broken Bridge under the snow!”
“Jingjing, Broken Bridge is too far—you’ll never make it. And honestly, no need to go there. Leifeng Pagoda and Su Causeway are plenty.”

Miss Qiao wasn’t budging. “We don’t even know when we’ll get another chance…”
“It’s quiet tonight, not freezing, and I slept in yesterday—Yutu…”

“Jingjing, we’re leaving at six tomorrow morning.”
“Perfect—I’ll nap in the car!”

When Miss Qiao got stubborn, most people couldn’t win. Yutu sighed, tightened her scarf, checked her shoes, then led her toward the bike, muttering: “If you’re tired, just stop pedaling, okay?”

“Yutu, you’re more annoying than my dad.”

Night deepened. Few tourists remained. Leifeng Pagoda stood silhouetted against the glow of city lights.

The hotel’s tandem bike was different from the ones others rode—smaller, with no handlebars on the back seat, perfect for Jingjing to tuck her hands into Yutu’s down jacket pocket.

They passed Leifeng Pagoda, then quickly reached Su Causeway. The wind carried a chill, laced with lake mist—the familiar breath of a winter night.

Around ten o’clock, the decorative lights dimmed. Only streetlamps remained. Water shimmered. Moonlight danced across the surface. Trees cast long shadows. And there—
two people in love.

Su Causeway undulated. Some slopes called for quick bursts of speed; others demanded they push uphill. Jingjing refused to push the bike. She pushed *Yutu* instead.

By the time they reached Bai Causeway after passing孤山 (Gushan), she was exhausted. She slumped onto Yutu’s back, clinging like a sleepy kitten, estimating how far they still had to go. Dr. Yutu frowned, calculating how to haul both person and bike back to the hotel.

Finally, they caught a cab on Beishan Street. Jingjing sat curled on the edge of the seat, slowly rolling forward. Yutu pedaled beside her on the bike lane, riding for another twenty minutes before finally making it back to the hotel.

“You’re tired, aren’t you? I’ll return the bike.”
“Yutu, I didn’t realize it would be this far…”
“Yutu, I’ll start working out after the holiday—promise I won’t slow you down again…”

Miss Qiao poured out her guilt like a wellspring. Mr. Yutu accepted every word: “I’ll return the bike. You go shower first. Next time, trust my judgment a little more. Let’s plan a workout routine post-holiday.”

“Yutu, you’re really tired, aren’t you?”
“Yutu, you haven’t even accepted my apology yet…”
“Yutu…”

Even when she didn’t know what else to say, Jingjing loved saying his name over and over.
She’d do it in phone calls—every sentence wrapped around it, as if she could touch him through the air.

Now she could actually reach out. And she did. Called his name until he silenced her with a kiss, until his heavy breath warmed her ear: “Guess my judgment’s terrible. You’ve still got energy left.”

By the time they left early that morning, Jingjing had used up every ounce of strength. Yutu practically carried her into the car.

Back in Shanghai, she was still half-asleep during makeup.

But once she stepped onto the stage? As Lingshu said: “She was born to shine.”

“Just dazed a minute ago—then boom, full presence. Stunning, yes, but also sharp-eyed. Knew exactly where to stand, who to step aside for. Perfect timing, flawless instinct.”

“Damn. Damn. Damn.”
“Xiao Zhu, how did I ever have such good taste?”

Shanghai路演 concluded. Rave reviews poured in.

Jingjing slept until noon on Lunar New Year’s Eve. Yutu? Gone. Probably left without even kissing her.

Asked Xiao Zhu, she was just waking up too. But Steel Warrior Lingshu was already running the studio like a general—arranging holidays, packing gifts for Jingjing, including…

Starlight Jewelry.

“Jingjing, you mentioned wanting to see matching pieces last time. We never made it back to Shanghai. Mr. Zhou called me three times asking about it. Today—any time to come by?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

That was Jingjing.
“Let’s see! Let’s see!”
That was Xiao Zhu.

Anyway, Yutu vanished the moment he returned to work. Jingjing thought: *Lingshu’s a genius.*

They went to Starlight’s headquarters to pick out rings. Jingjing’s rules were simple: subtle. And again—subtle.

Men’s styles weren’t plentiful. She tried on each ring one by one, holding them up like a critic. Too bright. Too flashy. Too boring.

Then Mr. Zhou rushed back in: “Miss Qiao! Long time no see. Finally get to serve you in person!”

“Mr. Zhou! Good to see you!”

“We’d like to look at men’s rings,” said Lingshu.

In a single glance, the businessman’s instincts read the diamond on Jingjing’s hand—its price point instantly flagged its value. This model had sold out in full payment just weeks prior.

“Honored to see Miss Qiao truly appreciates Starlight’s craftsmanship.”

The words carried real warmth now.

“This yellow diamond represents timeless elegance. Personally, I recommend two matching styles: First, a classic design—smooth, retro lines, available in platinum, gold, rose gold.”

“Second, a new model not yet released. Inspired by Roman curves, architectural in feel. Two versions: black and white ceramic, with platinum base. We’re calling it ZERO.”

Miss Qiao fell for the black version immediately. The stark contrast of black and white felt cold, hard—yet the flowing curve softened it, stretching long and tender.

“ZERO…?”

Yutu. I can’t give you ‘six nines.’ But every beginning from now on? It’s ours.

On the way back, Jingjing picked up Lingshu’s holiday gift: cashmere sweater, silk scarf, Iberian ham, Maotai, and enough Longjing tea to outfit an entire platoon.

Xiao Zhu took a separate route to collect flowers, fruit, and two bottles of Romanée-Conti—stored at the wine cellar, rumored to be priceless.

They hugged. The studio break officially began.

Goodbye.