Suddenly I feel like I will love you forever

Ever since Ming Shuyan was added to the besties’ group chat, it had been buzzing with activity.

Zhang Baobao, done with her exams, could finally take a breather despite upcoming retests, leaving her time to check her phone.

Chang Yongxi, having switched jobs and no longer treated like a workhorse, could now slack off and scroll.

The group teased Ming Shuzhen relentlessly.

When it came to love, she didn’t just dip her toes—she dove in headfirst, earth-shakingly.

They decided to meet up for dinner to get to know each other.

Chatting online was fine, but meeting in person was a must.

Once the dinner was set, Ming Shuzhen got excited.

She scoured the internet for couple outfits, sending Ming Shuyan options. “Look at these. Which one do you like?”

Ming Shuyan glanced at the photos—hoodies, either matching colors with different patterns or solid colors in different shades.

Like something kids would wear on a school trip.

Though unimpressed, she replied gently, “You’re working now. Maybe try something a bit more mature?”

“Like what?” Ming Shuzhen asked.

Ming Shuyan sent her a few images.

The clothes didn’t look striking in photos, and they weren’t from online shops.

“How about we check out some physical stores?” Ming Shuyan suggested.

Ming Shuzhen agreed without hesitation.

After agreeing, she realized it was basically a date.

So, she started planning her outfit and makeup.

Still buzzing with excitement, she texted Ming Shuyan, “Wife, is this our first date? Are you thrilled?”

Ming Shuyan didn’t say yes or no, instead asking, “If it’s our first date, should we kiss again?”

Ming Shuzhen blushed at the blunt question on her screen.

Their last kiss had been clumsy, a mix of instinct and inexperience.

Another kiss? She felt a spark of anticipation.

Suppressing a smile, she couldn’t help but grin, replying with a simple “Okay.”

The next day, Ming Shuzhen wore a cute dress, full makeup, and waited at home for Ming Shuyan to pick her up.

Ming Shuyan arrived in a new car—a pastel pink Porsche Panamera.

The sports car’s interior was cramped, perfect for two people to cozy up, close enough to lean over and hold each other.

Stepping out of her complex, Ming Shuzhen saw the car and thought Ming Shuyan was such a show-off.

Luckily, in this area, luxury cars weren’t rare, so it didn’t draw much attention.

She quickly hopped in, like a thief.

It was her first time in such a tight space. She maneuvered over the low door, her body folding awkwardly.

Her knees pressed against the carbon fiber trim, the leather seat dipping slightly under her weight, the aluminum-and-leather roof nearly grazing her hair. She had to slouch lower.

The car’s cedar-scented air freshener mixed with the faint burnt smell of an overheated clutch, creating a heady, unspoken tension in the confined space.

Ming Shuzhen shrank back, watching Ming Shuyan fasten her seatbelt.

In middle school, she’d been obsessed with CEO romance novels.

A suited-up, domineering CEO leaning against the car, inviting the heroine in.

In the tight space, their noses nearly touching, catching each other’s scent, hair brushing, gazes locking, until they couldn’t resist kissing.

As the seatbelt clicked into place, Ming Shuzhen leaned back, leaving a small gap.

Ming Shuyan, leaning over to secure the belt, looked impossibly gentle.

Yet, there was a hint of something predatory in her gentleness.

Ming Shuzhen inwardly mocked herself—too many CEO novels, projecting again.

Ming Shuyan, focused, finished with the seatbelt and returned to the driver’s seat.

Ming Shuzhen stole a glance.

Then another.

No wonder sports cars were dubbed babe-magnets—the distance was so close, she could lean over and kiss her any second.

But Ming Shuzhen was reserved.

She shook her head, sitting upright.

To prove her focus, she made small talk. “Boss, how much do you even earn? You keep switching cars.”

“Oh,” Ming Shuyan said, eyes on the road. “Real estate’s like that. You’ve got to puff yourself up.”

“The car’s part of my image. The fancier it is, the more clients trust me.”

Ming Shuzhen got it but frowned. “No wonder real estate’s so cutthroat yet fragile. These warped standards—how did they even start? It’s so backward.”

Ming Shuyan glanced at her—a quick look while driving—before refocusing.

“Pillow,” she called softly, as she did when they were alone.

Ming Shuzhen looked at her, still caught up in her earlier comment.

A subtle pause, her cheek muscles lifting in a barely noticeable microexpression.

“Suddenly, I feel like…” Ming Shuyan trailed off.

Ming Shuzhen didn’t buy it. “Hmph, so you were just playing around before?”

“Of course not,” Ming Shuyan denied firmly. “I always knew I’d love you forever, but it feels different now.”

“How’s it different?”

“It’s like… I can’t help it. I’m doomed to love you forever.” She laughed, embarrassed by her own sappiness.

Ming Shuzhen blinked, catching her meaning, and felt shy too.

“Why say that out of nowhere?” she teased coyly.

Ming Shuyan’s eyes sparkled. “I don’t know. Since being with you, I keep blurting out my feelings.”

She used to be so guarded.

…

At the mall, they headed straight for a brand store.

Ming Shuzhen wasn’t picky about fashion, but thanks to Wu Yuanchu’s impeccable taste, her style was solid, and she knew her luxury brands.

The sales assistant greeted them, recommending subtle yet stylish pieces based on their needs.

For each item, Ming Shuyan asked Ming Shuzhen’s opinion.

The assistant, sharp, picked up on their dynamic and leaned toward Ming Shuzhen’s preferences, directing the model closer to her for a better view.

“This alpaca wool-blend sweater has a crisp silhouette, brushed for a soft, fuzzy surface,” the assistant said, running her fingers over it to show its smoothness. “The lining is silk twill, skin-friendly…”

“The down jacket uses hidden magnetic closures instead of buttons, with tailored cuffs for warmth. It features honeycomb quilting…”

Ming Shuyan, seeing Ming Shuzhen’s satisfied look, asked for their sizes.

Since they wanted couple outfits, Ming Shuzhen picked a charcoal gray sweater, Ming Shuyan an oatmeal one, and they chose matching bright blue short down jackets.

Leaving the store with their bags, Ming Shuyan was in an unprecedentedly good mood.

“Boss, let me treat you to milk tea?” Ming Shuzhen offered, walking beside her, noticing her free hand swinging by her side.

As if waiting to be held.

Since Ming Shuyan paid for the clothes, Ming Shuzhen wanted to treat her, even if it wasn’t equivalent.

Ming Shuyan never drank milk tea but nodded at the suggestion.

Ming Shuzhen gleefully bought a group coupon on her phone. “Boss, what do you usually drink?”

“I’ve never had milk tea. Just get what you like,” Ming Shuyan said honestly.

“…Oh.” Ming Shuzhen blinked, suddenly feeling her milk tea was high-class.

She’d introduce Ming Shuyan to her first-ever milk tea.

Picking a reliable shop, she chose a foolproof flavor based on years of experience.

Waiting at the milk tea shop, Ming Shuzhen eyed the bag’s sleek logo and had a thought.

“Boss, can we wear these to the office too?” she asked.

“I don’t mind,” Ming Shuyan said, raising an eyebrow provocatively. “Up to you.”

“…Uh.” Ming Shuzhen considered. “I think… I want to. People will notice anyway, even if we don’t wear them together.”

“Heh.” Ming Shuyan let out a short laugh, then leaned close. “Why not call me ‘wife’?”

Not quite a question, not quite hurt—more like teasing.

Ming Shuzhen froze, unaware of what she’d called her, just blurting out whatever.

“Miss Pig, our milk tea’s ready,” she said, then dashed to the counter before Ming Shuyan could react.

Ming Shuyan followed, pestering, “Why call me a pig?”

“Zhong Shuo said I’m cabbage, and you’re the pig rooting for it,” Ming Shuzhen said, sipping her drink.

“Tch.” Ming Shuyan raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“Well, I’ll have to taste if this cabbage is any good.”

The words slipped out, and they both caught the innuendo, exchanging a glance, cheeks flushing.

Suddenly, Ming Shuzhen recalled Ming Shuyan’s earlier hesitation, saying she lacked experience and needed to “study.”

Clearly, Ming Shuyan was thinking the same, stealing a glance before looking down and taking a big gulp of milk tea.

“I bet I’m pretty tasty…” Ming Shuzhen mumbled, biting her straw, sneaking a look at Ming Shuyan’s hand.

“Wife,” she got it right this time, “you said you’d study. How’s that going?”

Expecting Ming Shuyan to ask what she meant, she was surprised when Ming Shuyan instantly understood.

Ming Shuyan turned her head, avoiding eye contact, her gaze drifting.

“Say it,” Ming Shuzhen poked her.

“Tch.” Ming Shuyan faced her, a mix of helplessness and coyness on her face.

“You!” Her fox-like eyes glared. “What, testing me?”

“Yeah,” Ming Shuzhen nodded, impish. “Gotta check your progress.”

Ming Shuyan went quiet, staring at her milk tea, trying to distract herself.

She muttered, “What if… I fail? Will you not want me?”

“What?” Realizing Ming Shuyan was being coy and expressing her insecurities, Ming Shuzhen was stunned.

“No way. I’m fair—top students, struggling ones, all good in my book,” she declared boldly.

Ming Shuyan missed the point, biting her lip, looking affronted. “What? Besides me, the failing student, you’ve got other star pupils? Isn’t this one-on-one tutoring? You’re taking side gigs?”

“Hey!” Ming Shuzhen laughed. “Relax, I swear you’re my only student—and a top one.”

Finally satisfied, Ming Shuyan’s lips curved up, happily grabbing the bag. “Let’s go? Your student’s treating her teacher.”

“What!” Ming Shuzhen’s eyes widened. “The test’s now? I’m not ready!”

Ming Shuyan froze. “Where’s your mind at? I meant dinner!”

“…Oh.” Ming Shuzhen pouted, teasing, “Boring, so boring.”

Ming Shuyan playfully swatted at her, and they left the shop, laughing.

Earlier, she couldn’t bring herself to hold hands. Now, seeing Ming Shuyan’s free hand, Ming Shuzhen’s heart itched.

Sipping her milk tea, she dawdled beside her.

Ming Shuyan, carrying the bag in one hand, walked on, oblivious.

The mall wasn’t crowded, just a few passersby.

Ming Shuzhen felt nervous.

Holding hands or linking arms with Zhong Shuo or Wu Yuanchu never felt odd.

Why did it feel so shy, so heart-racing with Ming Shuyan?

To others, they’d just look like close friends—no one would guess their relationship.

Yet Ming Shuzhen felt awkward, maybe guilty, as if their relationship was illicit.

But…

Ming Shuyan’s loosely curled hand swung by her side with each step.

If Ming Shuzhen just reached out a finger, she was sure Ming Shuyan would respond, their hands entwining, fingers interlocking, joints brushing.

She sneaked a peek at Ming Shuyan’s hand.

Long, graceful, slender.

If she gripped too tightly, the bones might dig in.

Her heart itched, but she hesitated.

Ming Shuyan noticed her odd behavior and turned. “What’s up?”

“Hm?” Ming Shuzhen shook her head, dodging the question.

Ming Shuyan looked puzzled but didn’t press.

She walked closer. “Anything you want to eat, or should we hit a restaurant outside?”

Ming Shuzhen barely heard, fixated on Ming Shuyan’s hand—clean, neatly trimmed nails, no accessories, crisp and capable.

Screw it, she thought.

Today, she *had* to hold that hand.

As Ming Shuyan reached for her phone to search for restaurants, Ming Shuzhen swiftly extended her arm, her fingers brushing Ming Shuyan’s pinky, then sliding up to her fingertip, her palm, and finally gripping it softly.

Ming Shuyan, mid-thought about dinner, felt someone take her hand, fingers tickling her palm, sending a mix of itchiness and delight.

She squinted, smiling, pausing the conversation to grip back firmly.

Feeling the response, Ming Shuzhen’s lips curled, a mix of “See, I knew she’d hold me” pride and quiet joy.

As a kid, Ming Jianchang had taken her to a marsh to photograph night herons—long-beaked birds with bluish-green crests, nicknamed “Chinese pastoral penguins.”

Ming Shuzhen always wondered how they resembled penguins. Even in photos, it didn’t click.

Until she saw one in person, perched by the marsh, preening its feathers. Crouching beside Ming Jianchang, she saw its round head facing her.

The bird’s front view had a quirky, almost eerie charm.

Up close, its white-feathered chest and vibrant blue-green back—almost black at a glance—made the nickname make sense.

Unafraid, the heron strutted on the grass. Ming Jianchang, lying low, snapped photos, while little Ming Shuzhen watched quietly.

No one else was around, just the occasional chirp of insects, fleeting and crisp, with a gentle breeze carrying the scent of grass.

Little Ming Shuzhen blinked, feeling utterly content.

Just like now.

Holding Ming Shuyan’s hand, she couldn’t quite feel its warmth, but it felt intimate, like their hearts were touching.

Looking at their clasped hands, Ming Shuzhen thought—a fist is the size of a heart. When holding hands, could you feel the other’s heartbeat trembling?