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Immediately after the launch of The God Seeker, Yu Tu was stationed in Beijing, meticulously overseeing the payload deployment. His work was far from over—ensuring the satellite reached its intended orbit and functioned flawlessly required precision, patience, and unwavering focus. Jing Jing was able to stay with him for a week before she had to return to Shanghai for some promotional events.
With Chinese New Year just two weeks away, he had hoped to wrap up his work in Beijing before heading to Yixing to reunite with Jing Jing and spend time with both sides of the family. With both sets of Jing Jing’s grandparents staying at her parents' home and Yu Tu’s uncle occupying his room at his parents' house, the couple had opted for a nearby hotel during their stay. It was a practical arrangement—one that gave them a bit of privacy while still being close enough to join in the family festivities.
However, due to unforeseen circumstances at work, his holiday schedule was cut short last minute. He barely made it in time for the big reunion dinner. It was a good thing the restaurant was near the hotel they were staying at and so they arrived just when the appetizers were being served.
"Why can’t they let you take Friday off?" Jing Jing complained while they were heading back to the hotel after dinner when she found out he had to return to work in Shanghai on the fourth day of CNY and then fly off to Beijing again. "That means we’ll have to drive back on the third day of New Year! My idea of a double celebration doesn’t include spending half the day on the road."
"Double celebration?" Yu Tu asked, momentarily puzzled. Then, his mind was clouded with wit. "Are you saying you were thinking of spending the whole day in bed?"
Jing Jing huffed, folding her arms dramatically before giving Yu Tu a light smack on the shoulder. When his confusion lingered, she let out an exaggerated sigh and delivered another tap, firmer this time, as if knocking the cluelessness right out of him.
"I purposely asked Sister Ling not to schedule anything for the entire New Year," Jing Jing pouted. "You forgot about our double celebration, didn’t you?"
"Are you talking about our fifth anniversary? That’s not until the 24th," Yu Tu replied, pulling her into his arms. "I promise I won’t be working overtime that day nor on the day of the Lantern Festival. "
"No!" Jing Jing pushed herself away from his embrace. "I’m talking about our dating anniversary! Valentine’s Day and the third day of New Year—it happens to fall back-to-back this year."
Guilty as charged. The words barely left his lips before memory flickered to life—a hazy recollection of her mentioning something about an anniversary before leaving Beijing. At first, he assumed it was their wedding anniversary, but realization dawned just as quickly—she was still keeping track of the day they started dating.
All he remembered was that it had happened during Chinese New Year, so long ago it felt like another lifetime. But admitting he had forgotten the exact date would be unforgivable—he could already imagine the disappointment shadowing her gaze, the silent hurt creeping in.
He had never feared her punishments before, always meeting them with teasing defiance. But this time, something was different. This time, he couldn’t bear to see that sadness in her eyes.
So before she could call him out, he took the plunge first.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice gentle, almost imploring. He searched her eyes for a sign—for the flicker of forgiveness, the softening of her disappointment.
Then, he pulled her into his embrace, his arms wrapping around her with practiced ease. It was a gesture that had soothed her before, a silent promise of warmth and reconciliation. Pressing his forehead lightly against hers, he added, "How about I take you out for dessert?"
"Okay! Ice cream it is!" As always, her mood shifted in an instant, the sadness vanishing like a fleeting cloud. That was something he had always loved about her—she never clung to disappointment for long.
But, of course, she wouldn’t let him off that easily. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she pointed a playful finger at him. "This is just for now. I'll be thinking of more ways for you to make up for this!"
Yu Tu smirked, slipping effortlessly into their familiar rhythm. "Bring it on."
New Year's Day arrived, bringing with it a full day of family visits. The festivities began at the Yu household and carried over to the Qiao household. As tradition dictated, the men settled around the Mah-jong tables, some of the women played cards, and the rest gathered by the treat table, chatting and indulging in sweet delights.
Yu Tu and Jing Jing, however, had something different in mind. Wanting to keep their grandparents entertained, they whisked them away for a leisurely drive around Yixing, reminiscing over familiar sights and cherished memories. Naturally, no outing in Yixing would be complete without its famous Tofu Pudding, and they made sure to treat their elders to the delicacy.
The evening unfolded into another night of feasting, this time at a different restaurant, where laughter and conversation carried on late into the night, wrapping up the day in warmth and togetherness.
The second day of the New Year brought another round of lively Mah-jong and card games at the Qiao household. This time, the gathering was even more bustling, with more of Yu Tu’s relatives joining Jing Jing’s family to continue the holiday celebrations.
Since it was Valentine’s Day, one of Jing Jing’s cousins suggested they spice up the afternoon with a game—Two Truths and a Lie. The younger cousins wasted no time rallying participants, eagerly convincing family members to drop their names into a box for a random draw. Xiao Ming, ever the energetic organizer, took center stage. Holding up a second box, he grinned.
"Because today is all about love, your stories must follow the theme! Each person will share a story about themselves—two parts must be true, and one will be a lie. We'll write down our guesses for which part is the lie, and then I’ll read out the answers."
Yu Tu leaned back, his tone teasing. "Is there a prize for getting the right answer?"
Xiao Ming’s grin widened. "Of course! Your wife will give a red packet to every person who guesses correctly!"
The room erupted in cheers while Jing Jing’s eyes widened in protest. "Hey! Since when did I agree to this?" she shot back. "And who’s giving me a red packet when I guess correctly?"
Her answer came swiftly, shouted in unison—"Your husband!"
Yu Tu smirked, feigning contemplation. "And what happens if no one guesses the right answer?"
Xiao Ming took only a moment to devise an even bolder plan. "Then your wife will give an extra red packet to that person."
Laughter filled the room as the game took shape, promising an evening of playful rivalry and heartfelt surprises.
Grandma Qiao’s name was the first to be drawn, and Xiao Ming asked her to tell a story about her first love. The room filled with eager anticipation. She had a way with words, spinning stories so seamlessly that discerning truth from fiction was nearly impossible.
“I was seven years old when I met my first boyfriend,” she began, thinking she had to use the word ‘first’ in her story.
An uproar followed as all eyes darted toward Grandpa Qiao, who, seated calmly outside the game, simply nodded and smiled—ever the gentleman.
“After ten years, we married,” she continued, “and we have a son.”
Speculation erupted among the group. Some argued she had misstated her age, others were certain she had married earlier than she claimed. Yet, no one doubted the existence of their son. Two people, however, confidently declared she had spoken nothing but the truth.
And why were they so sure?
Jing Jing and Yu Tu exchanged a knowing glance. The afternoon before, as they indulged in Tofu Pudding with Grandma Qiao, she had shared the full story of how she and Grandpa Qiao met and eventually married. They had an upper hand—knowledge that none of the others possessed.
“How did you know there was no lie?” a curious cousin asked.
Yu Tu chuckled, while Jing Jing struggled to contain her amusement. Their advantage was hidden well, but now the moment of revelation arrived. Jing Jing and Yu Tu smiled at each other before exclaiming in unison.
“Because Grandpa kept nodding every time Grandma spoke!”
Another uproar followed, as the rest of the group animatedly attempted to explain the concept of deception to Grandma. Yet, even in the midst of their debate, they insisted that Jing Jing hand over a red packet—a gesture she happily carried out.
With that, the game took off in full force. Laughter and playful accusations echoed through the room as story after story unfolded, each one teasing the fine line between truth and deception. Even the Mah-jong players and card players abandoned their games momentarily, drawn in by the infectious energy.
The space buzzed with cheers, chuckles, and shouts of surprise. What had started as a simple challenge had transformed into an afternoon of shared joy, turning the gathering into a whirlwind of entertaining revelations.
When Yu Tu’s name was drawn, he hadn’t anticipated just how eager everyone would be to uncover the story of how he had won over Jing Jing. Before he could even begin, the room erupted with speculation—relatives and cousins tossing out guesses, convinced he must have nursed a quiet crush on her back in Senior High.
Jing Jing, sensing the growing excitement and the looming embarrassment for Yu Tu, stepped in with a playful attempt to steer the conversation away.
“The story’s too long,” she remarked, waving off their curiosity.
But her deflection only fueled the intrigue further. After all, no one in the room truly knew how the couple had come to be—beyond the simple fact that they had once been classmates.
Yu Tu leaned over, whispered something into Jing Jing’s ear, and she nodded. Before Yu Tu began his story, he leaned back, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
“Let’s make this interesting,” he announced, his voice carrying just the right amount of confidence. “If none of you can guess the lie, each of you will owe me a red packet.”
Gasps and laughter rippled through the room. His cousins exchanged glances, some eager, some wary.
“Oh, so you’re that sure of yourself?” Someone challenged.
Yu Tu simply shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Let’s see if anyone can catch me.”
And with that, the game was set—the stakes raised, the intrigue deepened. The anticipation in the room thickened as he straightened, scanning the expectant faces of his relatives before beginning his story—not with simple words, but with poetic prose.
In Senior High, the halls would sing, Of Beauty Queen and Scholar King.
She walked the path where waters gleamed, A vision bright, as if a dream.
高中长廊歌声扬， 才子佳人共辉煌。 碧波映照幽径深， 倩影如梦入心房。
A hush settled over the room, surprise flickering across the faces of his cousins. They had expected a straightforward tale, maybe an awkward confession or a funny mishap—but this was something else entirely.
By the gazebo, lost in thought, I sat and watched—though she knew not.
Each step she took, each fleeting glance, A silent wish, a longing dance.
凉亭静坐思绪飘， 暗自凝望她不晓。 步步轻移回眸瞬， 心中默许舞倾娇。
For in the light where soft winds played, She was the sun, I was the shade.
And in my heart, a truth untold— She was indeed a sight to behold.
微风轻舞光影柔， 她如骄阳耀苍眸。 心中秘语无人知， 风华绝代映心头。
Silence. Then, an uproar.
“I knew it!” one cousin shouted. “He had a crush on her back then!”
“But wait—was he really watching her every day?” another challenged, brows furrowing.
“Hold on, hold on,” an uncle interjected, raising a hand. “Did he really sit under the gazebo, or is he just messing with us? This is too poetic! Where’s the lie?”
Laughter bubbled up as the group scrambled to dissect his words, flipping between admiration and confusion. Just as they were growing restless, Yu Tu smirked and continued:
Beneath the gazebo’s gentle shade, She stood, a beauty softly swayed.
With classmates near, yet eyes on me, A quiet truth—was it destiny?
亭下微风轻柔舞， 倩影摇曳映晨曦。 同窗围聚欢声起， 唯独双眸凝望你。
I stepped forward, sure and bold, The space between us small yet told.
“Did you seek me here?” I asked, low, She whispered “Yes,”—and time slowed.
步履坚定心不疑， 咫尺之间情可依。 低声轻问可寻我？ 她柔答“是”—时空迟。
No words were needed, none were said, A touch, a kiss, where silence led.
And with a smile, a fleeting glow, I took her hand, said, “Let’s go.”
无需言语心相知， 沉默引领吻依依。 一笑微光映深眸， 牵手轻语：“走吧！”
Behind us chatter, laughter bright, Yet we walked on, bathed in light.
With hearts alight, so carefree-stream, We left them there—for ice cream.
身后欢语笑声轻， 光影相伴步从容。 心燃自在流水漫， 人留原地共冰凌。
The room erupted yet again. This time, gasps and laughter mixed with stunned expressions.
“That can’t be real!” Someone exclaimed.
“He kissed her just like that? No hesitation?”
“What kind of scholar pulls off something this dramatic? He’s playing us, I swear!”
Yu Tu’s father leaned back in his chair by the Mah-jong table, shaking his head with exaggerated amusement. “Well, well, who knew we had Teacher Yu among us?” He teased. “Poetry, romance—what else have you been hiding, son?”
His mother, on the other hand, was beaming with pride. “I always knew he was talented,” she mused, sighing with awe. “But to turn his confession into a masterpiece? My son is truly remarkable.”
Jing Jing, seated beside Yu Tu, had long since given up trying to keep a straight face. Her husband had not only dazzled the room with his poetic charm but had also completely baffled their relatives. She pressed her lips together, shoulders shaking with restrained laughter, delighted at what he had conjured up.
Meanwhile, the debate raged on. Some were convinced he had told the absolute truth, while others insisted it was nothing more than an expertly woven deception—disguised in artistry.
And Yu Tu? He remained utterly composed, the picture of calm, letting them puzzle over the mystery—never confirming, never denying. Only his wife knew which part was the deception.
That night, Jing Jing sat cross-legged on the bed, fingers skimming through the neat stack of red packets Yu Tu had collected—every single one owed to him after no one could detect the lie.
Only once he had gathered his winnings did he finally let on. With a satisfied smirk, he leaned back and casually revealed, “the lie was the gazebo. I first kissed Jing Jing at a Karaoke bar.”
A collective groan followed.
“You tricked us!” someone exclaimed.
“We were analyzing every poetic line, and it was just that?”
Jing Jing couldn’t hold back her laughter. Watching her husband effortlessly play the crowd had been the highlight of the night.
Before turning off the lights, she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for the best dating anniversary,” she whispered.
Yu Tu returned the kiss with lingering delight, pulling her closer as he led her down memory lane—back to their first night together, back to the start of something unforgettable.
As the moment settled between them, he murmured against her skin, “You do realize this celebration isn’t over, right? When we’re home in Shanghai, we’re doing this all over again.”
Jing Jing laughed, resting her head against his chest. “You really planned this out, didn’t you?”
He smiled, holding her a little tighter. “Of course. What kind of scholar would I be if I didn’t?”
And with that, they called it a night—hearts full, love woven into every stolen moment.
