He stood up, and before leaving, he patted Mo Yushen's shoulder forcefully, saying, "You've always put the big picture first, and your efforts haven't been in vain; the rewards have come."
Mo Yushen breathed a long sigh of relief. He had not disappointed his grandfather's expectations. When his equity dispute with Mo Lian came to an end, the Mo Group was not harmed and it survived the ordeal safely.
Xi Jia sent Mo Yushen a message: 【I personally picked Mr. Mo up from get off work today.】
Mo Yu smiled faintly, "Thank you, wife."
Xi Jia's memory is normal today, and some of her memories from a few days ago have also returned. She just saw the news and learned that Mo Lian is Mo Yushen's brother.
On her way to the Mo Group, Xi Jia bought a bouquet of flowers, her favorite roses.
Today, she drove her flashy sports car and parked it directly in front of the Mo's Building.
Mo Yushen left work earlier than usual, and tonight, no one in the secretariat office had to work overtime.
As Mo Yushen emerged from the building, Xi Jia quickly got out of the car and took out the flowers from the back seat.
This time, the security guard was more experienced; he kept his eyes fixed on the lobby and resolutely avoided looking outside. Last year, when Xi Jia came to pick up Mo Yushen from get off work, the two unexpectedly kissed, and he didn't know where to look.
Xi Jia handed the roses to Mo Yushen, who took them, hugged her gently, and then gave the roses back to her, saying, "How much is it? I'll transfer the money to you."
Xi Jia laughed, "I've done this before?"
Mo Yushen: "No, I was stupid to insist on giving you money."
Xi Jia hooked her arm around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. "I'll treat you to roasted sweet potatoes tonight."
Chapter Ninety-Two
Jiang Qin was surprised that Mo Lian would contact her. He only said two sentences on the phone: "I'm downstairs. My flight is tomorrow."
The meaning of his words is very clear: he came to say goodbye.
Jiang Qin didn't understand. There had always been only hatred between her and him, no friendship whatsoever. Why would she need to say goodbye?
Jiang Qin pondered for a long time. Perhaps it was a mental lapse, or perhaps, as she grew up, her thoughts became less simple, and she unconsciously began to think the worst of him.
If he calls entertainment reporters and they manage to photograph her meeting with him, it will be another bloody storm.
The silence on the phone was suffocating.
Jiang Qin declined his offer, saying, "I'm not home. If you need anything, just call me."
Mo Lian looked up at the building; her window was still lit. He had waited outside the complex for a long time before seeing her car arrive, and only then did he follow closely behind.
This parting may mean never seeing each other again.
She didn't want to come down, but he didn't force her. "You're busy, it's nothing."
Jiang Qin secretly rejoiced, thankful that she had the foresight. His sudden resignation yesterday made her feel that he was forced into it by Mo Yushen's demands of Peter.
Maybe he just wants to get revenge on a friend that Mo Yushen cares about.
Mo Lian: "I have something for you. I've put it in your email."
Jiang Qin: "Okay. I'll get it from the mailbox when I get home." She didn't ask what it was. If it could be put in the mailbox, it certainly wasn't anything valuable.
Mo Lian went to the hall and slipped the thin letter into her mailbox.
I stood in front of the mailbox for a while longer before leaving.
That night, Jiang Qin didn't go downstairs, unsure if he had left.
Later, she was busy filming, and her agent would pick her up directly from the underground parking lot, so she forgot about the mailbox incident in the lobby.
I remembered it again two months later during the promotional event for "The Rest of My Life" in Shanghai.
During the interview, a reporter brought up again the half-finished love letter she had mentioned on the show, asking if she had found any relevant clues after a year.
She smiled and said not yet.
The host joked, "You should check your email; maybe someone secretly sent that half-sent email to your inbox."
For some reason, Jiang Qin thought of Mo Lian, and of the night he said he had left something in his mailbox.
After the event ended that evening, Jiang Qin had her assistant book the latest flight so she could rush back to Beijing overnight.
The agent joked, "If you didn't know better, you'd think you were going to meet your lover."
Jiang Qin made an excuse: "I haven't been sleeping well lately, and I'm not used to staying in hotels." She was just curious whether Mo Lian was the owner of that half-letter.
During the more than one-hour flight, she imagined a lot of things.
It's still unbelievable. How could Mo Lian like her? She clearly despises him so much and has said so many hurtful things about him.
Back in Beijing, it was already past midnight, and she arrived home at 2 a.m. Jiang Qin felt no fatigue whatsoever; for the first time in her life, she was so curious about something.
I opened my mailbox, and sure enough, there was a letter inside, in a manila envelope.
Jiang Qin tore the letter open on the spot and was shocked to see a corner of it. Even though she was somewhat prepared, she was still stunned. It really was a love letter he had written to her.
The part that was cut off is in this envelope.
Jiang Qin paused for a few seconds before taking the letter home.
Of the cut-off portion, there was only one sentence:
I hope your dreams come true and that you are happy and joyful.
Mo Lian.
Jiang Qin put the cut-off part together with the previous love letters in an envelope. Perhaps it was because he had seen that episode of the show, where she said that the case hadn't been solved after all these years, that he had finally put her mind at ease.
Back then, he kept the love letters with names on them to himself, probably knowing that it was impossible for them to be together.
Because she hates him.
Also, because she was Mo Yushen's good friend, she couldn't possibly make Mo Yushen sad.
Jiang Qin poured half a glass of red wine, didn't turn on the light, and lay on the terrace.
The early spring breeze is gentle and warm.
It stirred up those youthful memories and brushed away the secrets buried deep in my heart.
My agent sent me a message: [Next week, promotional events for "The Rest of My Life" will be held in Guangzhou.]
The promotion of "The Rest of My Life" has been particularly poignant due to Xi Jia's health condition. Every time a reporter asks, "How is screenwriter Xi Jia doing now?"
Jiang Qin noticed something strange: all the reporters present would consciously turn off their video and audio recording equipment.
No one knows how Xi Jia is doing. Half a year has passed, and Mo Yushen hasn't shared any good news on Weibo.
The release date for "The Rest of My Life" was set for the summer of one year later. By then, it had been three years since filming for "The Rest of My Life" began.
Two days before the broadcast, Mo Yushen posted a photo on Weibo of Xi Jia taking photos at the lakeside in the mountains, the filming location of "The Rest of My Life".
[Sharing this good news with everyone: My wife, Xi Jia, has basically recovered. She has regained 60% of her memory; she can remember me now, every single day. Thank you again for your kindness and warmth. —Xi Jia's husband, Mo Yushen]
Mo Yushen put away his phone and continued fishing.
Xi Jia was talking to Mr. Yue, and the two of them were sitting on a stone bench next to them.
In the past two years, Mr. Yue's hearing has deteriorated significantly; he can barely hear when spoken softly.
"Grandpa will cook fish for you at noon. You didn't even get a bite of the fish I cooked last time. Today, I'll cook it myself." Old Mr. Yue's voice was loud, and he was still talking about things that happened two and a half years ago.
He and Mo Yushen ate all the fish that day, while Xi Jia, who was taking Chinese medicine, was advised to abstain from meat and fish.
Xi Jia also asked loudly, "Grandpa, you can cook?"
Mr. Yue: "I asked the housekeeper to put the seasonings in, and then I put the fish in."
As they spoke, Mr. Yue and Xi Jia both laughed heartily.
Around 10 a.m., the sun was high in the sky, and the temperature rose sharply.
They had a good catch. Xi Jia carried the small bucket, while Mo Yushen carried the fishing gear. The two of them accompanied Mr. Yue as they slowly made their way back.
Upon arriving home, Mo Yushen helped his aunt with the chores, while Xi Jia chatted with Mr. Yue in the courtyard.
Under the shade of the trees, a gentle mountain breeze blows.
Mr. Yue: "You took the photos there, didn't you?" He pointed to the distant lake with his cane.
Xi Jia looked over and nodded, "Yes, the scenery over there is like a fairyland."
Mr. Yue didn't hear clearly, so he wrote on the muddy ground with a twig: "Grandpa is old and hard of hearing, he can't hear clearly."
Xi Jia also comforted him in the same way that Mr. Yue had once comforted her: My hearing is not good either, it has not recovered much yet. In the future, let's listen to sounds carefully.
Mr. Yue smiled.
Smoke curled from the chimney of the small kitchen.
Soon after, the aroma of scallions wafted through the air.
Mr. Yue got up with his cane. “The seasonings will be ready soon. I’ll go put the fish in the pot. This will count as my cooked fish.”
Xi Jia chuckled and followed Mr. Yue into the kitchen.
Mo Yushen stood beside the earthen stove, watching intently as the aunt prepared the seasonings and fried the fish.
Xi Jia pulled Mo Yushen: "Why are you standing so close? You're getting in Auntie's way." She pulled Mo Yushen over, which made room for Grandpa Yue.
Mo Yushen was pulled back a few meters, then quickly stepped forward and grabbed Xi Jia's hand, "Don't move, let me see how to cook the fish."
The aunt smiled and turned to Xi Jia, saying, "It's alright, it's alright. Xiao Mo wants to learn how to cook fish from me. He said you haven't eaten these for years, and he'll cook them for you when you go back to Beijing."
Xi Jia looked at Mo Yushen, whose gaze was fixed on the aunt's spatula, his expression focused.
Grandpa Yue: "Come, come, you all go to the back. I'm going to put the fish into the pot. There's an art to putting fish into the pot."
Everyone burst into laughter.
It was Xi Jia's first time eating fish from the mountains. The fish was delicate and delicious, and she gave her grandfather a thumbs up.
After lunch, she and Mo Yushen left so that Grandpa Yue could take a nap.
Today, it was Mr. Yue's nephew who picked them up and took them to the hotel in the scenic area's food street.
Xi Jia still remembers the first time she came to her grandfather's house. She was in the same car as Mo Yushen. When they turned a corner, she was thrown into Mo Yushen's arms by inertia, and her hand was placed in a place that should not have been placed.
Today, the driving speed was okay, and we probably haven't reached the sharp bend yet.