The plane touched down in Veridia at two in the afternoon.
Before boarding, Renee Winslow had deliberately checked Veridia’s weather—it said "cloudy."
She’d imagined "cloudy" ant a gloomy, misty day with the sun hidden thick behind the clouds, barely peeking out, giving people a dull and stifling feeling.
But when she arrived, she realized Veridia’s weather was lovely, the clouds were light, and the sun shone freely, sparkling over the river surface.
Renee couldn’t quite say what she felt; it was simply nothing like what she’d pictured.
But really, that was normal—imagination and reality were always leagues apart.
Seeing her lost in thought, Jack Yates chuckled: "Disappointed?"
Renee shook her head. "No."
Jack reached out, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulled her into his embrace, and leaned low to whisper in her ear, voice deep: "I hope all your youthful mories are filled with , not so imaginary boy."
Renee tilted her head; her forehead grazed his nose tip, acutely aware of his burning breath.
She was about to pull away, but Jack pressed a hand to the back of her neck, not letting her escape.
Renee lifted her head, gazing into his deep, shadowed eyes; her heartbeat quickened, nerves tangled, so she looked down shyly.
Jack kissed her forehead lightly, his voice low: "Can you?"
Renee’s eyelashes quivered. "Can I what?"
Jack kissed her trembling eyelids: "Forget the boy with an umbrella climbing The Pilgrim’s Ascent in your mind, and rember bringing you here to Veridia..."
Before he could finish, Renee laughed and gave him a light punch.
"Don’t talk nonsense. That boy I ntioned was just a story, not real—a paper cutout."
Jack cupped her face: "Even a paper cutout is out of the question, Renee. You only get to rember ." Realizing his tone was too strong, he quickly lowered his voice and his stance, "Just rember , okay?"
-
Shane Grant ca to pick up Jack in person, driving an olive-green jeep.
This was Renee’s third ti eting Shane; it had been over half a year since they’d last seen each other in Northern Myona.
Shane nodded and smiled; Renee nodded back with a polite smile.
After leaving the airport, Shane asked casually, "What made you suddenly co to Veridia?"
Jack put his arm around Renee’s shoulders, spoiling her in his tone: "She wanted to visit."
Renee swatted him: "What do you an, I wanted to co? It was you who said you’d bring !"
Jack: "I brought you because you wanted to co."
Renee turned her face away, not bothering to bicker.
Shane glanced at the rearview mirror, smiling at their intimate manner.
The car grew quiet; Jack and Shane, both not the talkative type.
Renee wasn’t chatty either, and anyway, both n were a decade older than her—scarcely any topics in common.
Veridia, also called the Mountain City, is built amid hills and water.
The whole city twists and turns along mountain roads, winding up and down.
Renee had barely sat for a while before her eyelids drooped, and she drifted to sleep.
Jack pulled her into his lap, cradled her face against his chest. "Sleep," he murmured.
Renee woke up in bed, glancing at her phone—it was 5:26.
She wasn’t sure when they’d arrived at the hotel. She’d gotten into the car a bit after two, planned to sleep by two-thirty, and now she’d slept for almost three hours.
She got out of bed and pulled back the white gauze curtains. Outside the window lay a classical garden courtyard: rock formations and water features, cascading waterfalls, and flowing springs.
No need to ask—this was clearly a garden-style villa hotel.
The door opened; Jack carried in a glass of water into the bedroom. "Hungry?" he asked.
Renee had just woken, not feeling hungry yet, so she shook her head: "Not yet."
Jack handed her the water: "Besides Shane, we’ve got two other friends coming tonight. Mind?"
Renee took a sip, smiling: "With you putting it like that, how could I say I mind?"
Jack: "If you mind, I won’t let them co."
"No way," Renee protested quickly. "Hot pot’s only fun with a crowd. Just us two, it’d be boring!"
"All right, we’ll have them join us then."
Jack hugged her from behind, arms around her slender waist, chin nestled in her neck, both gazing out at the elegant classical view. He kissed her cheek gently.
Renee grinned: "You really like garden-style buildings. Your villa in Northcity is like this, and now even the hotels you pick are garden villas."
Jack nibbled her earlobe, pressing and releasing his lips, voice husky: "Gray brick, jade tiles—unadorned and refined. Cathan architecture’s beauty is every bit as good as Romara columns."
Renee’s heart was struck by his words; she turned toward Jack, t his deep, mysterious eyes, and felt a fierce, swelling heat inside.
Back in those years when pundits ruled, everyone always trashed Cathan, praising the West like it was heaven.
Old-style Cathan architecture was just feudal relics; Western Romara columns and churches, on the other hand, were symbols of romance.
The double standard was disgusting.
Western holidays like Christmas Eve, Christmas, even April Fools’, all had beco popular here at ho, from university down to elentary school; no one didn’t imitate them.
Of course, there’s capital at work, but what’s more is the nation’s lack of confidence.
After a hundred years of hardship, the scars run deep.
At this mont, hearing Jack say those words, Renee felt as if across ten years of ti, she glimpsed his proud figure at the border, spirited and bright-eyed, carrying mountains and rivers in his gaze.
"Jack," she called him solemnly out of nowhere, then rose on tiptoe, looped her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the lips. "Jack, you’re really handso."
Not a surface kind of handso, but a deep-boned sincerity for his country—so damn handso.
Jack clasped her nape, pried her lips apart, and deepened the kiss.
-
It rained at night.
Fine, lingering drizzle fell onto the river, and for a mont, one felt like entering a poetic dreamscape.
Renee had a atball in her mouth, glanced aside at the row upon row of high-rises along the riverbank.
The glass walls of the skyscrapers reflected dazzling colored lights, making this misty, rainy mountain city look even more fantastical.
Jack turned her face back: "Eat properly. Look at the view after dinner."
Renee gave him a mock glare: "Can’t I eat and look at the scenery at the sa ti?"
Jack: "No, focus on eating."
Shane laughed. "Only Renee could put up with you."
Renee stayed quiet, thinking, it wasn’t that she wanted to put up with it—what else could she do?
Steam rose in front of them; the fiery red hot pot was bubbling, giving off a fragrant, numbing spice.
Renee picked up a piece of fatty beef and placed it in her bowl, eating slowly with her head down.
Dining with them, along with Shane and his girlfriend, were two n, Jack and Shane’s old comrades.
Shane’s girlfriend, Celine Fenton, was his middle school classmate; they’d gotten together at a New Year’s school reunion.
Celine nudged Shane’s arm: "You just can’t stop talking, can you? Even with your mouth full! Mr. Yates dotes on his girlfriend. Unlike soone who only cares about eating!"
Shane instantly piled a big chunk of luncheon at in Celine’s bowl. "Eat—go ahead, eat!" Then added, "If I managed you like Third Master Yates does, all militarized, you’d last a day at most before breaking up with !"
The other two guys, still single, had zero interest in this topic. They just raised their glasses and toasted Jack.
Renee had a few more bites and told Jack: "I’m full."
Jack patted her head. "Go have fun now, but be careful not to get wet."
Celine stood up too, smiling: "Hold on, let’s go together."
After Renee and Celine had walked off, Shane teased: "Are you raising a daughter or sothing?"
Jack picked up the cigarette pack on the table, tapped out a cigarette and gripped it between his lips, his look roguishly lazy as he curled his lips: "She’s still young. Still a kid at heart."
Shane tossed out a harmless dirty joke: "If you know she’s young, how do you have the nerve to get your hands on her?"
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