#DeepLove #SweetRomance #MagicalEncounter #HappyEnding #ModernEra #Romance
While people were still debating whether having a child from a one-night stand was selfish or responsible, An Huai's child had already safely made it to their third year.
Three years ago, at twenty-six, An Huai was already a senior stenographer. Due to her busy work schedule, she often quarreled with her boyfriend, and eventually, they broke up.
That day, she went out of town for an event, and after it ended, the organizers invited her to dinner.
Believing herself to be a good drinker, she indulged.
Everyone at the dinner table seemed far from ordinary, each bearing the label of "society" in one way or another. But after so many years in the field, she was no longer surprised by such company.
There's a saying, "Either change or adapt," and she was the latter.
After the meal, someone offered to drive her back to the hotel. She thanked them at the door, still standing straight, but as soon as she entered the elevator, her head began to spin.
She leaned gently against the elevator, just wanting to get back to her room and sleep.
In front of her stood a young couple, holding hands and whispering. Judging by their excited expressions, they were probably discussing their plans for the next day.
She glanced at them before closing her eyes. She had once been young too, she thought.
Now, her high-intensity work left her with little time to catch her breath, let alone think about other things.
She admitted that she had never been one to pursue stability and tranquility, nor did she ever hide her desires.
The elevator had already reached the top floor, and only after everyone else had left did An Huai suddenly realize she had forgotten to press the button for her floor.
She smiled bitterly, stepped forward, and pressed the button, but after staying in the small, confined space of the elevator for so long, her head was spinning even more.
That night was like countless others—dark, silent, yet filled with an air of temptation.
The cliché scene of entering the wrong room happened to An Huai. She had always thought such things were just made up for novels and TV dramas. But when the door opened from the inside, she realized that such stories indeed stemmed from real life.
A man wearing pajamas and with a white towel draped around his neck answered the door. He was unwilling to be disturbed, casually wiping his still-wet hair as he asked, "Who is it?"
After glancing at An Huai, he impatiently added, "You've got the wrong room." He instinctively began to close the door.
"Oh, sorry."
An Huai pursed her lips and continued searching for her room in the maze-like hallway, unaware that she was circling back to the same room.
After a few more turns, she found herself back at the same door, persistently trying to open it with her room keycard, still oblivious to her mistake.
The door opened again, and this time, the man's hair was dry, with his semi-long bangs looking incredibly soft.
He scrutinized An Huai with a curious gaze, unable to figure out what this woman was up to.
An Huai, too, stared at him in a daze—he was really good-looking.
After a long moment of mutual gazing, the man stepped aside without a word, and An Huai, in a strange moment of understanding, entered the room as if possessed.
In the middle of the night, An Huai woke up to find a warm hand casually resting on her waist, with her back pressed against a warm, unfamiliar man's chest.
The room was pitch dark, with only a small blue light blinking in the distance.
She struggled to turn over, then drifted back into sleep.
She was twenty-six; she could take responsibility for her actions.
When An Huai woke up the next morning, it was nearly ten o'clock. She was alone in bed.
Her clothes were neatly folded at the bedside. As she looked at the untouched room, she felt as if the wildness of the night before had been nothing but a dream.
The man had left no trace of himself. An Huai chuckled at the word that came to her lips: "One night?"
Wearing the same clothes from the previous night, she went to the front desk, determined to find out what had happened.
When the staff recited her room number, she realized with a start that she had completely misremembered her room.
Her heart suddenly felt like it was filled with waterlogged cotton, heavy and weighed down, making even her steps feel burdensome.
Sitting in the hotel dining area, An Huai ordered a cup of bitter coffee, no sugar. The rising steam curled around her nose as she placed a box of emergency contraceptive pills beside her right hand.
The deep, slow chime of the clock in the lobby reminded her that it was time to take the pill.
As she swallowed the pill with the help of her coffee, An Huai's thoughts wandered back to the stranger's body and touch, which made her feel a bit ashamed.
Many things in this world defy logic, she mused. Even strangers can engage in the most intimate physical acts.
Her worst fear had come true.
"Could there be a mistake? I definitely took the pill."
"Taking the pill isn't foolproof. Should we schedule the procedure right away?" The doctor's mouth moved as she mechanically watched, for the first time no longer seeing these people in white coats as angels.
She nodded helplessly and then sat alone in the hospital corridor, waiting. As she touched her still-flat stomach, she couldn't imagine that a small life had already been growing there for over two months.
Her knowledge in this area was limited; she only knew that the longer she waited, the greater the risk of the procedure.
Just as she was lost in thought, her phone rang. It was an urgent task—a cultural heritage project needed a stenographer.
Without hesitation, she agreed and went home to prepare her materials.
Leaving the hospital so quickly, she wasn't sure what she was running from. Perhaps no woman would ever truly feel comfortable around those cold machines.
It took her three days to muster the courage to return to the hospital, but just as she was about to enter the operating room, she fled again.
Standing at a busy intersection, she called her mother, crying as she said, "Mom, I'm pregnant. I want to keep the baby."
The streets were filled with the sound of tires on asphalt and the chatter of passersby. For the first time, her mother spoke to her sternly and decisively, "An Huai, you must terminate this pregnancy."
"Mom, I'm scared."
"Being scared now is better than being scared later. You're oversimplifying everything. Raising a child alone as a woman involves so many challenges. An Huai, this is about your happiness for the rest of your life."
In the end, she didn't listen to her mother. After all, she'd been rebellious her entire life.
Her mother took early retirement and came to the city where An Huai lived to stay with her.
In the days following her mother's arrival, a heavy atmosphere hung over her small apartment. Her mother's eyes were slightly red, but she remained silent.
As for An Huai, she showed no signs of pregnancy—she ate well, slept well, continued taking on tasks, and attending events.
Eventually, her parents accepted the situation and began to adapt to their roles as grandparents.
But then, An Huai started to lose sleep. She wondered if she was being too selfish, so she decided to find the man from that night.
She asked a friend in the police department to help her obtain a certificate and then went to the hotel to find out who the man was.
But damn it, she had forgotten the room number again, only remembering the floor.
The hotel staff looked troubled, "Sorry, our footage is routinely cleared. As for the registration records, we can only access the full list of guests under special circumstances."
After many obstacles, she finally identified two possible men, but upon seeing their photos, she knew they weren't the one.
She sat dejectedly in a chair, and her friend analyzed the situation for her, suggesting that someone else might have booked the room for the man, making it difficult to track him down.
"Why are you so determined to have the baby? Aren't you afraid it will be a burden?"
"But if I terminate the pregnancy, I'll live with guilt for the rest of my life. You don't understand—although the baby isn't fully formed yet, I can already feel the deep bond between mother and child."
The child was born without any complications—a girl with especially beautiful eyes, just like that stranger's.
She named her An Jinghuan. "Jing" and "Huan" are opposites, yet harmonious, reflecting the state of mind she had during her pregnancy.
A hundred days after the baby was born, An Huai joined a single mothers' club to learn more about raising a child.
It was only after joining that she realized there were so many single mothers in society.
However, most of them had willingly borne children out of love; they all knew who the father was, but were abandoned. Few, like her, had decided to keep a child conceived in a one-night stand.
They told her, "You're really brave."
An Huai felt their tone was strange, like a mix of admiration and mockery.
The atmosphere in the club was not as positive as she had imagined. It was filled with complaints and anxiety, with many of them desperately trying to find a father for their child.
They said to her, "Even with help, it's still a nightmare. It's so hard, so lonely, raising a child as a woman."
An Huai retorted, "I admit that being a single mom is harder than being single, but single moms also experience the joy of motherhood."
"Joy? Imagine this: your entire life will revolve around the child. You'll be the one changing diapers, feeding, teaching them to dress, and putting them to bed."
"You'll need to play with them, answer all their endless questions, and tolerate all their tantrums."
"And if they get sick, it'll be torture, physically and mentally. Oh, it's exhausting."
They continued to chatter on, and instead of learning anything useful, An Huai felt overwhelmed by negativity.
There were indeed many aspects she hadn't considered, like the difficulties of registering her child's household, which turned out to be much harder than she had imagined.
In the blink of an eye, three years had passed. Because of her child, she gradually shifted her work behind the scenes, establishing a transcription studio and no longer taking on tasks personally.
While others' careers might decline after having children, An Huai never gave herself an excuse to relax.
Over these three years, her parents had always been her strong support, making the difficult and overwhelming seem more bearable.
During this time, she actively went on blind dates, but none of them worked out.
Many people advised her to find someone who was good to her child and not to be too picky.
But she didn't agree. She was looking for a partner for herself, not just a father for her child.
Yet, as she talked with one man after another, she began to gradually agree with what her mother had said over the phone years ago—how society devalues women who have had children.
An Huai once thought she would always prioritize her career and dreams, dismissing the notions of marriage and family. But now, nearing thirty, she realized just how much she longed for a complete family.
She couldn't pinpoint when her mindset had changed.
In the past, she prided herself on not liking stability or routine. But now, as her career flourished, she suddenly found herself envying the idea of a shared life within a marriage.
Especially when she thought about growing old alone, she felt terrified.
An Huai admitted honestly that she wasn't as happy as she once was. She wanted to be someone's girlfriend or wife; she needed a man.
Her life might never be perfect, but now she was desperately yearning for completeness.
When a 20-year-old intern in her studio righteously told her that single moms could also have exciting lives, she shook her head.
"An Huai, times are changing. Marriage isn't a woman's only option; everything is moving toward freedom. I've thought about not getting married."
An Huai didn't argue; she just listened quietly, looking at the intern as if she were seeing her younger self.
Life, after all, only reveals its truths after you've lived through a few years.
As a woman nearing thirty, she was now desperately wanting to get married, even if it meant jumping into the fire of an unhappy marriage.
Something is better than nothing.
After the negotiation, she shook hands with the man across from her. He asked what she was going to do next, and she openly replied that she was going to pick up her child.
The man looked surprised. "You already have a child?"
Accustomed to such reactions, An Huai smiled and said, "I was young and foolish."
She hadn't driven there, so the man offered to take her.
She quickly understood and graciously accepted, "Sure."
The man, Gu Si, was thirty-four, working in the live-streaming industry, and was a new business partner of hers.
Like many successful men, Gu Si was mature and steady.
An Huai liked this type of man, but she knew that such excellent men wouldn't be interested in her.
This was a fact, a challenge, and an expected truth of life.
So, An Huai had no other thoughts about Gu Si, though they did grow closer through work.
Gu Si was very straightforward with An Huai, telling her that he had been divorced once.
Her hand paused as she poured tea, and she asked in a flat tone, "Why?"
"Because I cheated during the marriage. She has a psychological need for purity and insisted on a divorce."
Instinctively, An Huai wanted to call him a jerk, but she had seen plenty of jerks in her time. Remembering that Gu Si was her business partner, she held back.
Like many stories, the man couldn't handle his once-beautiful, lively young wife turning into a nagging, dull housewife.
"I was with her for ten years. She changed so much, she was no longer the woman I once loved. So I had that immoral night, but it was a night of freedom and true release."
"We've been divorced for four years now. She's doing well as a single woman, and we've even become good friends, but there's no going back."
An Huai listened quietly, without much comment. These were matters an outsider couldn't really judge.
In today's society, cheating is still seen as a heinous act, with people wishing ill upon unfaithful men and women. But the truth is, love inevitably grows stale.
When neither party can keep the relationship fresh, one might resort to an affair as an outlet, a way to reclaim the vitality they once had.
An Huai simply said she could understand but didn't agree.
In her view of marriage, she believed she would enjoy being with just one person for life—sharing household chores, arguing and making up, and growing old together.
Day by day, love would turn into a habit rather than the boredom many assume.
"And you, have you considered finding a father for your child?" Gu Si, noticing that An Huai hadn't commented on his situation, subtly shifted the topic to her.
"I'm actively looking for a lover for myself. After all, no man would willingly love a child that isn't his own, right?"
"So, I just hope he could at least be kind enough to accept my child as part of the package."
Gu Si found her words captivating, seeing a glow of confidence in her that he hadn't noticed before. This was the first time he had heard such a self-assured response.
He thought "intelligent" was the word to describe her. She clearly and thoroughly understood many things.
Gu Si didn't beat around the bush. After taking a small sip of tea, he looked up and directly asked, "Do you think the two of us are compatible?"
"But I don't agree with your views on marriage," An Huai replied.
Gu Si chuckled lightly. "Don't you think I'm very honest? I just said what most men think. Besides, in the future, I'll surely be more cautious about the cost of infidelity."
"You didn't stay with that woman who 'liberated' you?"
"How could I? I didn't love her. It's easy to like someone, but truly loving someone is hard. To this day, my ex-wife is the only woman I've ever loved. I didn't want to divorce her, you know."
An Huai blinked slowly a few times, paused for a moment, and then asked Gu Si, "So, how do you feel about me? To what extent?"
"Admiration."
For a long time after she got home, An Huai's heart wouldn't stop pounding, and she even made mistakes while telling An Jinghuan's bedtime story.
"Mom, what's a 'Gu Si'? Shouldn't the princess be with the prince?"
An Huai's face flushed slightly. "Right, the princess is with the prince. Mommy made a mistake."
An Jinghuan cuddled her teddy bear and fell into a peaceful sleep, but An Huai, leaning against her daughter's bed, couldn't sleep at all.
Although she had known Gu Si for a few months, this was the first time they had such a candid conversation.
She hadn't expected Gu Si to have feelings for her. And no matter how old a woman gets, when she encounters a man who makes her heart flutter, her mind inevitably reverts to that of a young girl.
When Gu Si drove her home tonight, she actually felt a spark of romance. Was she just too lonely?
She wrestled with these thoughts for a long time, then sent Gu Si a message: "There's a parent-child event at the kindergarten the day after tomorrow. Are you free?"
Gu Si replied immediately: "Yes."
One word, clean and straightforward.
The next day, to her surprise, An Huai received a package containing two tracksuits—one for An Jinghuan and one for herself, both from a very expensive sports brand.
This was Gu Si's first gift to her, and this set of matching outfits filled with love touched her deeply.
But what she hadn't anticipated was that when Gu Si came to pick them up for the kindergarten event, he was also wearing a tracksuit. The moment she saw him, she couldn't help but smile in surprise.
She thought, he's really a thoughtful man.
Gu Si, in his tracksuit, looked even younger. Holding An Jinghuan in his arms, he gave An Huai a brief illusion of a complete family.
But those eyes, An Jinghuan's eyes, didn't resemble Gu Si's at all.
Four years had passed, and everything that strange man had brought into An Huai's life had faded from her memory. She couldn't recall his scent or his warmth; only when she looked into An Jinghuan's eyes did she faintly remember the man's beautiful eyes.
When his eyes were closed, his lashes were so long and dense.
She didn't know when it happened, but she had already given up searching for him.
When you're searching for someone, you gain a deeper understanding of the vastness of your country.
Trying to find him with no clues felt like an impossible task.
That day, An Jinghuan was particularly cheerful, and An Huai suddenly understood the mindset of single mothers who seek a father for their children. Sometimes, a child's happiness truly outweighs one's own.
An Huai was secretly taken aback, realizing she had become frighteningly selfless.
An Jinghuan was quite mature for her age. Despite their efforts to keep things from her, she still sensed that something was amiss.
Especially after she started kindergarten, she occasionally asked questions about her father, but now she had stopped asking altogether.
An Jinghuan's silence on the matter made An Huai's heart ache all the more. This was her mistake, yet it was her child who bore the consequences.
Moved by An Jinghuan's reaction, An Huai finally gathered the courage to call Gu Si. "Gu Si, what you mentioned before—I'll seriously consider it."
After the call, everything around her seemed to take on a surreal, beautiful quality, as if even the air she breathed in was inexplicably fresh.
So, when her assistant called to say they were short-staffed for a meeting, she didn't hesitate before replying, "I'm available."
But, in reality, making decisions when your mind is in a haze isn't the best idea, as An Huai realized upon arriving at the meeting. She was utterly clueless about the subject matter she was supposed to transcribe.
She had never even heard of the formulas and symbols they were discussing, let alone knew how to record them accurately.
She pulled out her recorder, knowing she would have to spend a lot of extra time researching and organizing the material later.
Though she had been a stenographer for ten years and was more experienced than most, there were still areas she had never encountered.
For the three-hour meeting, she felt as though she was enduring an ordeal.
To her surprise, as soon as the meeting ended, they immediately asked her for the transcript. She stammered, saying she still needed to organize it.
"No worries, we can handle the organization," they replied.
"Well…" Just as she was struggling to respond, a male voice suddenly interrupted, "What's the matter? Where's the meeting transcript?"
Following the direction of the voice, An Huai turned and was stunned the moment she saw the man.
She had thought she'd forgotten the details of his face, but it turned out she could remember everything so clearly.
It was evident that Chen Du recognized her just as quickly, but neither of them revealed their emotions.
Following Chen Du into the office, she uploaded the meeting notes to his computer.
"I didn't prepare in advance, so I missed some technical terms," she admitted honestly. "I recorded the meeting."
Chen Du glanced at her briefly, then said nothing, simply scrolling through the document. It wasn't until he reached the end that he remarked, almost nonchalantly, "So, you're a stenographer."
His words sent An Huai's heart racing—he was acknowledging that he knew her.
But before she could say anything, Chen Du continued, "There aren't many gaps. The higher-ups are in a hurry to get this. Why don't you stay and help me make some edits?"
They were sitting very close to each other, both staring at the computer screen, their faces almost touching. An Huai tried to remain calm, but her breathing had already become erratic.
Just then, the office door suddenly opened, and the crisp sound of high heels tapping on the floor echoed through the room.
An Huai looked up and saw a young woman's face—her demeanor more fitting of a shrew.
"Chen Du!" The woman stormed around the desk, yanking An Huai aside and raised her hand to slap Chen Du.
Chen Du caught her hand mid-air, his voice laced with irritation as he said, "What are you doing? I'm working."
"What kind of work requires you to be face-to-face like that?" the woman demanded.
"Can't you see? We're editing a document," Chen Du replied, clearly annoyed by her unreasonable outburst.
So, An Huai found herself an unwilling audience to a drama. The woman yelled that she wanted to break up with Chen Du.
To her surprise, Chen Du didn't try to stop her at all. Even after she stormed out, he made no move to follow.
Chen Du turned to An Huai and said, "Let's continue."
"Is she going to be okay?" An Huai asked, concerned.
Chen Du shook his head with a faint smile, saying something cryptic, "Being with someone you don't love is tormenting."
An Huai wanted to ask more, but Chen Du was already deeply absorbed in his work.
Over half an hour later, they finished editing the document. Chen Du called in his assistant to deliver the file to his superiors.
As An Huai tidied up her equipment, Chen Du waited patiently. Once she was done, he asked, "There are a few more sessions tonight. Are you staying to record them?"
She smiled and replied, "No, I was just filling in for someone today. If I stayed, I'd only cause more trouble."
She expected Chen Du to continue the conversation along those lines, but instead, he abruptly asked, "Are you married?" while glancing at her bare fingers.
Thankfully, An Huai reacted quickly, answering decisively, "No," before asking in return, "What about you?"
Chen Du shook his head, "No, but my family is pushing hard. They're getting older and want grandchildren."
Her heart tightened as she thought silently, *I've already given them a granddaughter.*
But everything was still uncertain, so she wasn't going to say anything.
"Then…" Before she could finish, her phone rang.
It was a call about work later that night. The person who was supposed to come couldn't make it, so they asked if An Huai could find a replacement.
Chen Du overheard the conversation and looked surprised, "You're An Huai? The An Huai Studio is yours?"
An Huai nodded, unable to deny it, and suddenly felt an urge to stay and work that night.
Before meeting Chen Du, she thought Gu Si was the one she wanted most. But now she realized her feelings for Gu Si were more about suitability, while her feelings for Chen Du were pure affection, independent of any external conditions.
Like the first time she met him, she felt a deep, unreserved attachment.
An Huai asked Chen Du for a few professional books, but he candidly offered to teach her instead.
Chen Du's ability to explain things and his logical thinking were impressive.
Under his guidance, she gained a general understanding of their field, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the office was filled with an undercurrent of ambiguity.
Was it that hearing his voice and feeling his presence made her overthink things? He was indeed a handsome man, and his simple, direct appearance alone was enough to make her fall for him.
She suddenly recalled a story where the female lead told the male lead's parents that she was infatuated with his looks after they tried to bribe her to leave.
"What are you smiling about?" Chen Du's voice pulled her back to the present. Embarrassed, she smiled, "Nothing, just didn't expect you to still look so young after four years. How old are you?"
"Thirty exactly. And you?"
"Same here, October birthday."
"June," Chen Du replied.
She quickly calculated in her head and realized he was just four months older than her.
The two of them continued chatting like new acquaintances, starting with the most basic topics.
Despite having had countless business meetings, none made her as cautious as this one—she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.
"I looked for you afterward, but didn't have any luck," Chen Du said, his tone tinged with regret.
Her heart skipped a beat, "Why were you looking for me?"
"I'm not the kind of guy who plays around. The risk is too high," he replied.
"So you're saying I'm an easy woman?" she teased, making Chen Du burst out laughing.
That night, after finishing her work and returning home, An Huai sent a message to Gu Si: "I met Jing Huan's biological father today."
As soon as the message was sent, Gu Si called her. Without hesitation, An Huai told Gu Si everything.
"Do you know what his intentions are?" Gu Si asked.
"Not yet, but some things he said really made me think," An Huai replied.
Gu Si generously wished her luck: "Good luck."
After hanging up the phone, An Huai lay in bed, unable to sleep. The night was cool, making her more aware of his warmth. Seeing him today brought back vivid memories.
He had said that he looked for her too. If they had found each other earlier, would everything be different now?
An Huai couldn't figure it out, but she vaguely knew that their reunion was a special favor from fate, and she needed to seize the opportunity.
The following week, An Huai was constantly busy, and she couldn't find a suitable excuse to see Chen Du, so she kept delaying it.
It wasn't until Friday night, when An Huai went to pick up An Jinghuan from kindergarten, that something changed.
Halfway there, her assistant called asking for some documents. An Huai remembered that she had locked them in her desk drawer.
"Wait a moment, I'll grab them from the office."
After picking up An Jinghuan, An Huai drove to her studio. She had never brought An Jinghuan to her workplace before, and not many people knew she had a child.
As An Huai walked into the office, holding An Jinghuan's hand, she bumped straight into Chen Du, who was waiting for her.
"Mr. Chen said he had something to…" The assistant's sentence trailed off as she sensed the unusual atmosphere. She looked at the three of them curiously.
An Huai and An Jinghuan were wearing matching light pink outfits, looking particularly harmonious together.
Chen Du couldn't take his eyes off An Jinghuan, while An Huai anxiously watched him. The assistant gulped and quickly excused herself, "I… I'll leave you to it."
For a long moment after the assistant left, the office remained steeped in silence.
Chen Du studied An Jinghuan intently, a strange feeling welling up inside him.
It was An Jinghuan who finally broke the silence, completely unaware of the tension in the room. In a sweet, innocent voice, she said to An Huai, "Mommy, I'm thirsty, I want water."
"Oh, okay, mommy will get you some."
"An Huai, don't you think you owe me an explanation?" Chen Du asked. They were sitting across from each other in the revolving restaurant atop the city's tallest building. The exquisite food was neatly arranged on small plates, but neither of them had the appetite to touch it.
An Huai didn't want to keep hiding the truth from him anymore. "It's exactly as you think."
"You… how could you be so reckless, not thinking about the consequences?"
"I didn't think? Did you think that night?" An Huai's retort left Chen Du speechless, and he could only sigh helplessly.
Chen Du looked at the woman before him, recalling the amazement and joy he felt when he first met her, now mingled with admiration and respect.
Although four years had passed, she still seemed to be exactly the type of woman he liked.
When Chen Du was twenty-six, he, like many others, had stopped believing in love. But that night, it was as if he was under a spell, and for a long time afterward, he almost believed that love was just impulsiveness.
If he had known that his impulsiveness would bring such a big change to a woman's life, he definitely wouldn't have made that choice.
He didn't know what An Huai had been through all these years, but just the thought that he might not have met her again terrified him.
He had almost become an irresponsible husband and father.
In a short span of time, Chen Du's mind raced with countless thoughts, but when he opened his mouth, only one sentence came out: "An Huai, you're a woman I both love and hate."
An Huai raised an eyebrow and finally felt like trying the beautifully presented food.
But just as she picked up her fork and was about to take a bite, Chen Du spoke again, "Let's get married tomorrow."
An Huai put down her fork, her heart racing, but she maintained a playful smile as she said, "I never said I'd marry you."
"Who else would you marry if not me?"
"Do I look like someone who can't find a husband? You should sort out your messy relationships first," she said, still holding a grudge over the woman who had barged into the office the other day.
"I don't have any messy relationships. You're the only one—the first woman I've ever approached with my heart rather than my head."
In the end, An Huai didn't agree to marry Chen Du the next day, but she couldn't deny that his attitude indeed brought her a sense of peace.
However, everything was happening so quickly that she wasn't mentally prepared. The marriage she had longed for no longer seemed as important after meeting Chen Du.
She thought she had become worldly, like most people, desiring the "marriage grave." But looking at Chen Du, she suddenly realized that what she wanted most was still love—a love that she would be fortunate to have.
In the days that followed, Chen Du and An Huai did things out of the usual order: they had a child first, fell in love afterward, and then got married.
This sequence often displeased An Jinghuan. "Mommy, why are you going on a date again?"
"Because mommy needs to date daddy!"
"Mommy, I want to date daddy too!"
"…"
As An Huai spent more time with Chen Du, she discovered that he had a childish side, while Chen Du found out that An Huai wasn't a strong woman at all—instead, she was a gentle and delicate one.
"When are we going to change Jinghuan's surname to mine? How about Chen Jinghuan?"
"No way! Our daughter takes my surname!"
"Fine, but when are you going to give me a son?"
"Get lost…"
An Huai never blamed the world for her circumstances; she always worked hard and strived upward. Perhaps that's why she deserved the favor of fate.
But after all, not everyone finds love, and not everyone is so lucky.
Yet, when we hear these beautiful stories around us, do we not regain courage and confidence?