He transmigrated into the body of the school heartthrob's spoiled ex-girlfriend, and he insiste

early summer.

The back garden of the Jiang family's old house.

The wisteria flowers are in full bloom, with clusters of light purple flower spikes hanging down, like a dreamlike beaded curtain woven in mid-air.

Sunlight filters through the gaps in the leaves and flowers, casting dappled, dancing light and shadow on the bluestone slabs.

A gentle breeze carries a sweet floral fragrance.

"A little to the left! Aunt Su, you're blocking Uncle Shen's face!"

Twelve-year-old Jiang Muning, dressed in a pure white princess dress, ran around on the lawn directing like a dutiful little director.

"Is this my fault?"

Su Qing, dressed in a bright red dress, crossed her arms and gave Shen Qi a disgruntled look.

"He insisted on hiding behind me. What, are you afraid of the camera?"

Shen Qi was wearing his signature black leather jacket, his hands in his pockets, and he had a roguish grin on his face.

"I'm just trying to highlight President Su's beauty. I'm giving you all the spotlight."

Su Qing snorted coldly, but couldn't help but smile.

the other side.

Zhang Annian was frantically chasing after a four-year-old boy who was running around on the ground.

"Oh my god, stop running! They're about to take a picture!"

Sweetie, wearing a pretty floral dress and holding a wet wipe, chased after him breathlessly: "Zhang Annian! You can't even hold a child properly, how can you be a vice president!"

Laughter and playful noises filled the air.

Intertwined in this spacious courtyard.

It was filled with the lively atmosphere of cooking.

"Big brother, stand in the middle."

Wen Ning waved to Zhou Xu, who was standing slightly to the outside.

Zhou Xu was wearing a mild light gray suit today, having just flown back from Europe.

He looked at the chaotic crowd, shook his head helplessly, walked to Jiang's mother's side and stood there, his eyes full of relief and gentleness.

On the old rattan chair.

Mr. and Mrs. Jiang sat in the center, looking at the courtyard full of their children, grandchildren, and close friends, their smiles beaming from ear to ear.

Jiang Ci and Wen Ning sat side by side on high-backed chairs behind the two elders.

"Everyone's here!"

The photographer set up a tripod in front of the flower stand and adjusted the lens.

"Everyone, get ready!"

Wen Ning sat there.

A gentle breeze lifted the hem of her skirt.

She looked at the vibrant, bright smiling faces before her.

His gaze swept over the laughing Tian Tian, ​​the bickering Su Qing, the composed Zhou Xu, and Xiao Niannian standing in front of Jiang Ci's knees.

Everything was so wonderful.

It was so beautiful, like a dream I dared not easily touch.

Wen Ning's eyes felt slightly warm.

She turned her head and looked at the man beside her.

Jiang Ci wore a white shirt today, without a tie, and the collar was slightly open.

Time has not left too many marks on his face; instead, it has polished his once sharp and piercing coldness into a deep and inclusive gentleness.

He noticed her gaze.

He turned his head away.

Their eyes met.

Jiang Ci reached out and firmly grasped her hand in the elders' blind spot.

Their fingers were intertwined.

Palm to palm, continuously transmitting scalding heat.

Wen Ning grasped his hand in return.

At this moment, my thoughts seemed to travel through a long time tunnel, flying back to that afternoon many years ago.

It's downstairs in the teaching building of the Computer Science Department at University A.

Scorching sun.

That old locust tree.

That was the first day she came into this world.

At that time, she was just a timid stranger in a foreign land, afraid of being electrocuted.

She is controlled by a cold system and trapped in a script called "The Drama Queen Cannon Fodder".

She thought that as long as she closed her eyes and rushed up to hug that unattainable beauty, she could extricate herself once the mission was completed.

She thought she was an outsider.

All the love and hate in this world are irrelevant to her.

but.

She was wrong.

She underestimated the boy named Jiang Ci.

That half-cup of fully sweetened strawberry milkshake.

The windbreaker that covered my head on that stormy night.

That bowl of seafood porridge, peeled by hand, without a single shrimp shell.

And there was that schedule, accurate to the minute, held in her palm.

Jiang Ci showed his unreserved favoritism and his almost clumsy sincerity.

They forcefully pulled her out of that false pretense.

He dragged her into his real world, which he called "Jiang Ci".

The pain that followed.

The system warned of a curse of incompatible fates.

To save him, she forced herself to wear the reddest dress, utter the most vicious words, and personally crushed his dignity at the victory celebration banquet.

Those three years in Paris.

Snowflakes were falling heavily, and the attic was drafty.

She drew one after another of back views without a face.

That was the longing she poured out with her very bones and blood.

She thought the script was irresistible.

She thought that as long as she left, he could walk onto that cold and glorious road to success.

But she still underestimated him.

This obsessive man.

After experiencing the deepest betrayal and despair, he did not follow the predetermined path to become a cold-blooded monster.

He spanned three years.

Covered in wounds and filled with unwavering determination, he found her again.

He abandoned his so-called bottom line for her.

He cried bitterly in the hospital corridor in the pouring rain for her sake.

He even learned to find an old tin box on a dusty floor for her sake.

Until that system completely disappears.

They watched their daughter grow up in this courtyard.

Wen Ningcai finally understood a principle.

Love is never a systematic program.

It's not a few lines of cold, hard code, nor is it a pre-set threshold for favorability.

It is not some unchangeable, predetermined script.

Love.

It is the instinct of two hearts to draw closer again and again amidst the raging storm.

It is the courage to hold onto the other person's hand tightly even when you know there is an abyss ahead.

It was the umbrella he held up amidst the ruins.

It was the beam of light she drew in the darkness.

It's because of you.

Only in this illusory world do flesh and blood and soul exist.

"Everyone, look at the camera!"

The photographer's loud voice pulled Wen Ning back to reality.

"Smile!"

"three!"

"two!"

"one!"

Just as the shutter was about to be pressed.

Jiang Ci suddenly loosened his grip on her hand.

He stretched out his long arm.

His strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her firmly into his embrace.

Wen Ning turned her head in surprise.

Jiang Ci lowered his head slightly.

He wasn't looking at the camera.

His deep, ocean-like eyes reflected her bright face and the profusion of flowers in the courtyard.

He moved closer to her.

Warm breath brushed past her ear.

Amidst laughter and cheers.

The last second, frozen in time by the shutter click.

He turned his head away.

His thin lips landed with utmost reverence on her temple.

A deep, lingering voice, imbued with the tranquility of time, gently rang in her ear.

"Ningning."

"I love you."

"Year after year."

"Never stop."