People who keep pace will not get separated

The banquet ended, and everyone left—some by subway, others by car.

Han Shuyu had texted Ming Shuzhen early, asking how she was getting home.

Ming Shuzhen planned to take the subway with her, even if they’d only share a few stops since they lived apart.

Then Qian Duoduo pulled up, honking, and took Han Shuyu with her.

Han Shuyu was renting from Qian Duoduo, so it made sense.

Just as Ming Shuzhen thought she’d be taking the subway alone, Ming Shuyan rolled up in her Porsche Panamera.

Her car was followed by Ji Chengyu and Chen Chen’s, with colleagues still lingering nearby.

The flashy car stopping in front of her made Ming Shuzhen nervous.

She glanced around, stepping back, pretending she didn’t know the driver.

But everyone looked her way.

It was Ming Shuyan’s car, after all—its sudden stop sparked curiosity about what the boss was up to.

Ming Shuyan lowered the passenger window, looking at her. “Get in. I’ll drive you home.”

Ming Shuzhen avoided her gaze, scanning the colleagues watching openly or discreetly, feeling embarrassed.

Seeing her silence, Ming Shuyan didn’t push, waiting patiently.

Ji Chengyu and Chen Chen, in the car behind, didn’t move either.

Not wanting to waste their time, Ming Shuzhen, despite the stares, opened the door and got in.

Inside, Ming Shuyan, as usual, leaned over to fasten her seatbelt.

Noticing her tense expression, she couldn’t resist scraping a finger along Ming Shuzhen’s nose.

Ming Shuzhen blinked, her lashes fluttering, but stayed quiet.

The car started, its engine roaring, deepening her unease.

Ming Shuyan, focused on the road, kept an eye on her mood.

She knew Ming Shuzhen was upset. They’d agreed to keep things professional at work, yet her photo had been displayed on the big screen for all to see.

It was understandable to be mad.

Signaling a turn, the car’s “tick-tick-tick” filled the silence as Ming Shuyan spoke cautiously.

“The… food, was it good?”

“Mm,” Ming Shuzhen nodded.

It was delicious—the company’s WeChat mentioned the menu was vetted three times.

Plus, there were red envelopes. The banquet was overall enjoyable.

Except…

She shot Ming Shuyan a look, but with her eyes on the road, there was no response.

Ming Shuzhen fell silent again.

After a while, Ming Shuyan broke the quiet.

“About… the wallpaper. I didn’t think anyone would see it.”

“Mm,” Ming Shuzhen replied flatly.

It was an unexpected embarrassment.

Her shoulders slumped—she shouldn’t be so petty.

But after the New Year holiday, how would she face everyone at work?

Since joining, she’d insisted to Meilin she wasn’t a “connected household,” denying any ties to the boss.

Yet her photo had been plastered on the screen. Meilin was probably laughing inwardly.

That aside, the curious glances after the photo appeared—though not malicious—felt uncomfortable.

“I know you don’t want to go public yet. I’m sorry,” Ming Shuyan said, her mood sinking with Ming Shuzhen’s.

“Hm?” Ming Shuzhen, unused to her apologizing, was caught off guard.

Her expression softened, knowing what’s done was done.

At least no one would suspect anything beyond her being the boss’s “sister.” They were safe.

“Forget it,” she said, looking at Ming Shuyan. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Love makes you want to show off, and no one could’ve predicted this slip-up.

“Wife, I was wrong. I was careless. Don’t ignore me,” Ming Shuyan pleaded at a red light, her eyes soft and repentant.

Ming Shuzhen had never seen her so submissive, her voice deliberately soft, like a mischievous kitten—irritating yet adorable.

Seeing her expression ease, Ming Shuyan pressed on, dropping her usual image.

“Who can blame me when my wife’s so pretty? I had to make her my wallpaper. It cheers me up every day.”

“I finally found such a gorgeous wife. I just want to hold her close. I’m upset too that so many saw her…”

“Wife, if you’re mad, grab a stick and whack me.”

Ming Shuzhen finally cracked a smile, sighing helplessly. “Why a little stick? Why not a big one?”

Ming Shuyan laughed quietly. “Fine, get a big stick—borrow Sun Wukong’s golden cudgel and knock me out.”

Seeing this childish side of her, Ming Shuzhen felt a surge of joy.

The more she saw Ming Shuyan’s private, softer side, the more secure she felt in their intimate connection.

“I couldn’t bear to hit you,” she said.

Ming Shuyan grinned. “Thank you, my gracious wife.”

…

The Little New Year holiday arrived, with Red Brick giving two extra days off.

By Little New Year’s Eve, Ming Shuzhen had been lazing at home for two days.

Occasionally, Wu Yuanchu and Ming Jianchang visited. When they didn’t, she went to Ming Shuyan’s.

After a couple of visits, they noticed and came more often.

Ming Shuzhen wasn’t sure of their stance.

Were they accepting, or just holding back?

She avoided mentioning anything and tried to hide her lovesick vibe.

But whenever she texted Ming Shuyan, a faint smile crept up, which she thought no one noticed.

“Plans tonight? Dinner at home?” Wu Yuanchu asked, sitting on the sofa after changing Ming Shuzhen’s bedding.

“Nope,” Ming Shuzhen replied concisely.

“Where to? With who?” Wu Yuanchu’s gaze sharpened.

“With Zhong Shuo, watching fireworks at International Park…” Ming Shuzhen said, slightly guilty.

As expected from a seasoned teacher, Wu Yuanchu saw through her.

She snorted. “Just Zhong Shuo?”

“And Zhang Baobao.”

“Just you three?”

“And Baobao’s partner,” Ming Shuzhen said, staring at the ceiling.

So white.

“I ask, you dodge?” Wu Yuanchu’s teeth itched with annoyance.

“You know who else already,” Ming Shuzhen pouted.

“I don’t,” Wu Yuanchu said deliberately.

Ming Shuzhen glanced at her, muttering through clenched teeth, “And… my partner.”

“You.” Despite the mumble, Wu Yuanchu caught it.

Ming Shuzhen sprang from the sofa, defensive. “If you try domestic violence, I’m calling the cops.”

“When have I ever hit you?” Wu Yuanchu glared.

“Just warning you.” Ming Shuzhen sat back on the sofa’s edge, cautious.

“I’m asking,” Wu Yuanchu pulled her closer, “have you two slept together?”

“What?” Ming Shuzhen was stunned.

Classic older generation—blunt and direct.

“Speak,” Wu Yuanchu pressed, unembarrassed.

“No.”

“Real no or fake no?”

“Really no!” Ming Shuzhen swatted her. “What’s with you? I’m just dating, not being interrogated.”

“Good,” Wu Yuanchu exhaled in relief.

She grabbed the laptop from the coffee table, setting it on her lap.

“Here, read this carefully and share it with… your…” She struggled, then gave up. “You know.”

“My partner!” Ming Shuzhen finished.

Wu Yuanchu glared, sighed, and said nothing.

Ming Shuzhen read the laptop’s Word document, complete with images.

“Finger cots provide lubrication, reducing discomfort. Choose cots from manufacturers with ISO9001 and ISO13485 certifications.”

“Proper use: Most packaging indicates the correct side. Place the cot on your finger, right side up, and roll it down from the edge until secure.”

“…”

Realizing what she was reading, Ming Shuzhen found the laptop scalding.

“What’s this?” She set it back on the table, embarrassed and annoyed.

She and Ming Shuyan were still in the pure-love phase, where even a kiss required planning.

Wu Yuanchu was fast-forwarding to the bedroom.

“I’m showing you so you know what to do. Protect yourself—safety, hygiene…” Wu Yuanchu lectured.

Ming Shuzhen found her serious tone amusing.

“Don’t worry, Mom. We’re not reckless. And female-female is way cleaner than male-female—lower infection risk.”

“Male-female involves fluid exchange, and men are less hygienic.”

“Stop worrying. I’m not a kid. I know what I’m doing.”

Wu Yuanchu went quiet, looked at the laptop, and headed to the kitchen.

Ming Jianchang, who’d been in the kitchen, came out, pulling a stool beside Ming Shuzhen.

“Pillow.”

Here it comes, Ming Shuzhen thought—another lecture.

But Ming Jianchang didn’t. “Your mom’s been in the study for days, wearing reading glasses, researching.”

“I asked what for—school’s in finals, no tasks left. She said it’s for you. You’re young, naive, and she’s worried you’ll be fooled.”

He rubbed his face. “We’re scared of pressuring you. We want you happy and healthy. When you were little, we couldn’t wait for you to grow up.”

“Now you’re grown, and we’re scared again. We want you to see the world but fear its temptations, that you’ll be bullied or hurt.”

“Your relationship—we talk about it nightly, do research. Society’s not like the old days, dunking people in cages, but we’re still scared. Not rejecting it, but afraid. Afraid people will insult or bully you, that your girlfriend might bail, leaving you alone, that you’re too trusting and get deceived.”

“You’ve never faced real hardship, don’t know how cruel the world can be. We can protect you now, but later? When we’re gone, can your girlfriend take our place? Will she just play and leave? Is she thoughtful? Does she know you don’t eat fruit peels, that you hate blow-drying, your allergies, your favorite shows, your AC settings?”

“You’re giving yourself to her so easily. You love her now, but what if she doesn’t feel the same? What if she walks away?”

Ming Shuzhen listened quietly, looking at Ming Jianchang’s weathered face, rough from years in rainforests and deserts.

She understood his and Wu Yuanchu’s concerns.

Ming Shuyan… she believed wasn’t the type to play around.

She was confident they were in it for the long haul.

“Dad, how about I bring her home for New Year’s? Have dinner, meet you guys?”

“Sure, I’ll talk to your mom. We’ll prep the food.”

“Mm.” Ming Shuzhen didn’t say more, picking up the laptop again.

*

On Little New Year’s Eve, Ming Shuyan drove to pick up Ming Shuzhen.

Seeing the message, Ming Shuzhen left her complex and hopped in.

“Looking sharp, Miss Ming,” she teased, settling into the passenger seat.

Ming Shuyan had a high ponytail and lighter makeup, very youthful, wearing their couple outfit.

“Gotta match you. What if I stand next to you and people think I’m your mom?” Ming Shuyan quipped.

“No way,” Ming Shuzhen laughed. “You’re only a few years older. Maybe an auntie at most.”

Ming Shuyan shot her a look. “I don’t have a niece like you.”

“What, you’re rejecting me now?”

“Don’t dare.”

They bantered, heading to Zhong Shuo’s booked restaurant.

The streets were packed, cars inching along.

“Hey, did you read what I sent?” Ming Shuzhen asked about Wu Yuanchu’s document.

“Yup,” Ming Shuyan replied calmly, stuck in traffic.

“Mm…” Ming Shuzhen hesitated, finding her tone too casual. “What’d you think?”

“Hiss.” Ming Shuyan feigned a wince. “Pretty similar to what I’ve learned.”

“Oh…” Ming Shuzhen studied her, curious for more.

“Pfft.” Ming Shuyan burst out laughing.

With the car stopped, she grabbed Ming Shuzhen’s hand, winking. “Don’t worry. I may lack experience, but I’m a quick learner. And… I know how to take care.”

“Huh?” If they weren’t in the car, Ming Shuzhen would’ve jumped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Heh.” Ming Shuyan just smiled.

“Don’t worry, Auntie. I won’t let Pillow get hurt.” As traffic moved, she refocused on the road, giving Ming Shuzhen’s palm a quick squeeze before letting go.

Ming Shuzhen froze, stunned by how casually Ming Shuyan addressed such a cheeky topic.

“Have you thought about tomorrow, facing my parents?”

“Nope,” Ming Shuyan admitted.

“What?” Ming Shuzhen’s eyes widened, thinking she was joking.

“Sigh.” Ming Shuyan shrugged. “I don’t have much experience with parents. Eating with yours makes me nervous. I’m scared I’ll mess up, and they won’t like me or trust me with you.”

Ming Shuzhen, sharing the same worry, comforted her. “Don’t be scared. My parents are okay. They won’t grill you.”

Ming Shuyan smiled. “Alright, I’ve imagined scenarios. Tomorrow, I’ll handle whatever comes. I love their precious daughter and will be perfect to win them over.”

Hearing her confidence, Ming Shuzhen grew anxious. “What if… they don’t approve?”

“Mm…” Ming Shuyan thought. “Then I’ll call Auntie ‘godmother,’ clean her house, cook daily until she warms to me. Five, eight years—however long it takes for everyone to accept us.”

Five, eight years? Ming Shuzhen’s heart skipped.

She’d thought about forever with Ming Shuyan, sensing she did too.

But hearing it aloud felt special.

No grand promises, just naturally planning their future.

It warmed her heart.

Ming Shuyan was driving, so Ming Shuzhen didn’t disturb her.

At the next stop, she leaned over, kissing her cheek.

Caught off guard, Ming Shuyan’s lips bloomed into a smile, eyes crinkling.

At the restaurant, hearing about tomorrow’s parent meeting, everyone offered advice.

Zhong Shuo, knowing Wu Yuanchu well, said, “Call her ‘Mom.’ She’ll be too shy to chase you out, even with a broom.”

“No way,” Zhang Baobao countered. “Show sincerity. Don’t let Auntie think you’re joking. Be serious, like you’d die without this relationship.”

Ming Shuyan, beside Ming Shuzhen, smiled as the dishes arrived, barely touched.

She watched the sisters advise her, amused.

“Who you listening to?” Zhong Shuo asked.

Ming Shuyan looked at Ming Shuzhen. “Pillow says who, I listen to.”

Ming Shuzhen grinned mischievously. “Then kneel and tell my mom you’d trade your life for me.”

“Deal,” Ming Shuyan agreed instantly. “I’ll kneel, cry my heart out, say I can’t live without Pillow.”

Ming Shuzhen swatted her playfully. “You nuts? My mom would kick you out.”

Ming Shuyan pulled her close, laughing, shoulders shaking.

After dinner, they hit the private room’s mahjong hall.

Ming Shuyan wasn’t skilled, but with four players needed, she sat beside Ming Shuzhen, sneaking glances at her or her tiles.

“No cheating or asking for help,” Zhong Shuo teased, smirking.

Ming Shuyan relented, losing every round.

Eventually, Zhong Shuo pitied her. “Pillow, help your wife. She hasn’t won once.”

Ming Shuzhen looked at a deflated Ming Shuyan and laughed. “Wanna play something else?”

“Cards? Boring,” Zhang Baobao said.

“Guandan?” Ming Shuyan suggested.

“Still cards,” Zhang Baobao leaned back.

“What, scared you’ll lose?” Zhong Shuo taunted.

“Joking? I flunked grad exams twice, but math carried me. My brain’s sharp,” Zhang Baobao retorted.

So they played Guandan.

Ming Shuyan had only learned it recently.

Early in her career, to network with real estate tycoons and officials, she’d learned opera, golf, and drinking—not Guandan.

When the economy slowed, this Jiangsu-Huai’an card game caught on with bosses.

So she learned it, mastering it like everything else, making it a strength.

Before the holiday, partners sent Guandan gift sets—glass tiles or gold-dusted cards.

She’d asked Ming Shuzhen if she played; she did, thanks to Zhong Shuo.

So Ming Shuyan suggested it.

Her skills shone, feeding Ming Shuzhen cards. After two rounds, they synced, working as a team.

Zhang Baobao, from Huai’an, was a natural, sharp and strategic.

Zhong Shuo caught on. “Hey, something’s off. You three looking at me like I’m an idiot?”

“Drop the ‘like,’” Zhang Baobao quipped.

“What!” Zhong Shuo tossed her cards, indignant. “You’re ganging up!”

Ming Shuzhen smoothed things. “Can’t let you lose forever. Now everyone’s won—good for the New Year.”

Zhong Shuo laughed, rubbing her face. “True.”

The banter brought them closer, especially Ming Shuyan with Zhong Shuo and Zhang Baobao.

As time neared, they headed to International Park.

On Little New Year’s Eve, the park was packed, vendors everywhere.

Ming Shuyan held Ming Shuzhen’s hand, trailing Zhong Shuo and Zhang Baobao.

“Call him,” Zhong Shuo told Zhang Baobao about Chang Yongxi. “How do we find him in this crowd?”

“No answer—probably too noisy,” Zhang Baobao said, eager to locate him.

“Ugh, we workers have it rough, out here interviewing on Little New Year’s Eve.”

Unable to reach Chang Yongxi, they moved forward blindly.

The crowd pushed them like a tide.

Ming Shuzhen, hand in Ming Shuyan’s, felt giddy.

She watched the heels of those ahead, then their synchronized steps—both starting with the left foot, then right, swinging in unison, like one person walking.

She grinned at their matched strides.

Ming Shuyan, seeing her smile, mirrored it, unsure why. “What’s so funny?”

“Huh?” Ming Shuzhen looked up. “Heh, just really like you.”

She recalled an online saying: *People with matching strides don’t part.*

She truly believed she and Ming Shuyan would last.

Not blind confidence, but the magnetic connection, the butterflies yet ease, convinced her Ming Shuyan was *the one*.

Hearing another “I like you,” Ming Shuyan’s lashes fluttered.

Honestly, the only confessions she’d ever heard were from Ming Shuzhen, the only close, intimate contact too—even now, holding hands.

She’d never imagined such closeness, but now felt like she was floating, her heart bubbly like soda.