The morning sun filtered through the blinds like a soft, golden sigh. Li Na was at the counter, absentmindedly stirring tea that she wouldn't actually drink. The air was perfumed with a hint of jasmine mixed with dust, and Guo Yu found himself watching her for a moment.
There were subtle dark circles beneath her eyes, remnants of restless nights and uncried tears, yet she still radiated the essence of a fresh spring day after a long winter.
It always struck him — love didn't arise from grand declarations. Instead, it grew in these serene moments — in the way she moved and in the silence that surrounded her like a delicate aura.
Three years Earlier— Nanjing, Early Spring
The rain fell like threads of silk, continuous and unrelenting. Li Na stood beneath a chipped bus stop roof, clutching a stack of internship forms close to her chest. Her hair was damp, strands sticking to her face, and she muttered curses in two languages — both futile against the rain.
Then a hand appeared next to her, offering an umbrella.
"Rain doesn't stop just because you scold it," said a warm voice, light and teasing, making her heart flutter.
When she turned, she saw a man standing tall, droplets on his lashes, his shirt already drenched. His umbrella barely shielded them both, but he tilted it towards her nonetheless.
"You'll catch a cold before your first day. Not very heroic for a nurse," he added.
It wasn't just his words, but his tone — as if he already knew her, as though he had been waiting for her arrival.
Li Na let out a soft laugh, surprised by her own reaction. It felt like a spark igniting in the dreary atmosphere.
By the time the bus arrived, the discomfort of being wet was forgotten. All she could recall was him — his smile, the steady calmness in his voice, and how the world suddenly felt a bit lighter.
After that encounter, they began meeting by chance — or at least that was her pretense.
Coffee breaks that coincided perfectly, shared corners of the library, and lingering walks home that felt too familiar to be accidental.
Their love didn't explode — it flourished. Gradually. Quietly. Unavoidably.
He recognized how her fingers tapped when she overthought, the way she disliked empty rooms yet cherished those that were peaceful. She noticed how he adjusted everything — a crooked photo frame, words that seemed off, unresolved moods — until balance was restored.
They complemented each other in a way words couldn't capture. She was chaos; he was tranquility. She was the unfinished tune; he was the steady beat that supported it.
One evening, as they walked by the river with its shimmering lights reflecting on the surface like scattered stars, she asked, almost bashfully, "Do you think love should be effortless?"
He paused, took her hand, and gazed at her as though she were the only genuine presence in the world. "No," he replied quietly. "Easy things fade. True things endure. Even when it's painful."
In that moment, the atmosphere shifted — love transformed from an emotion to a promise.
Back to present.
Li Na set her teacup down carefully and offered a faint smile. "Do you remember our first place?" she asked softly. "The little one with the cracked walls?"
Guo Yu's expression softened. "The one where the faucet whistled and the floor creaked as if it had a life of its own?"
She let out a genuine laugh, the first in days, filling the space with warmth.
"That was happiness," she remarked. "Even when we had nothing."
He moved closer, his thumb caressing her wrist. "That was happiness," he concurred. "Because it was ours. Because it was real. That's the home your mother can't recognize — the one we created together."
For a long, suspended moment, they simply gazed at each other, not speaking, not needing to.
Then, softly, she said, "You're everything she wanted for me, Guo Yu. She just doesn't realize it yet."
With the same calm, reassuring smile from that rainy day, he replied, "Then we'll show her — not through arguments, but through our lives."
Outside, sunlight flooded the floor, dispelling the shadows. In that brief moment of morning, love felt neither burdensome nor painful. It was gentle, certain, and vibrantly alive — the same love that started under a broken umbrella and somehow still bound them together despite the storms.