Mr. Shang, please be passionately in love after marriage.

On the way back to Jingtangyuan from the hospital, a fine drizzle began to fall without her noticing. Cen hope hadn't brought an umbrella and got soaked for a short while before finally arriving safely.

As soon as Aunt Fang opened the door, she saw that there were misty water droplets on her head and her clothes were wet, so she quickly brought over a towel.

"Madam, you should have called me in advance so I could have come downstairs to meet you. It's getting colder lately, and you might catch a cold if you get caught in the rain like this."

As he spoke, he wiped her shoulders and head with the towel in his hand.

Cen hope sneezed, not too loudly, rubbed her nose, and said, "It's nothing."

She has always been in good health.

Getting a little rain won't be a problem.

Those beautiful eyes, hidden beneath the dry towel, lifted and scanned the room.

There was no sign of Shang Hanzhou.

"Hasn't he come back yet?"

Aunt Fang knew who she was asking about and shook her head: "No, Mr. Shang seemed a bit off before he left."

Even now, Aunt Fang still feels lingering fear and unease when she thinks about it.

She might get fired.

The things she threw away as trash seemed to be very important to Shang Hanzhou.

Cen hope took the towel from Aunt Fang's hand, pursed her lips, and said, "I'm going to find him."

"Madam, let me go with you."

Aunt Fang hurriedly said, "I think Mr. Shang..."

She paused for a moment. Although it sounded like a fantasy, she had a feeling that Shang Hanzhou would go to this place.

Cen hope looked up at her, and Aunt Fang then added, "Mr. Shang might go to the waste disposal center."

Cen hope looked slightly taken aback.

……

The rain intensified.

My vision, blurred by the rain, began to become indistinct.

Cen hope struggled to hold the umbrella, her fingertips gripping the handle turning a pale white as she squinted to look ahead.

The garbage disposal center in Jingtangyuan is managed by the property management company.

Usually, someone will come to handle it the next morning.

The garbage was piled up today and hadn't been dealt with yet. Then it rained, and the ground was covered with dirty water stains. The air was filled with the fishy smell of the rain and the stench of the fermenting garbage.

Even from a distance, the smell can make one's stomach churn.

Cen hope frowned, not daring to miss a single moment of the scene before her, a strange feeling surging deep within her.

They both hoped to see Shang Hanzhou here and were afraid of actually seeing him.

He's such a germaphobe; back then, even when we took him to eat at the food street, he wouldn't sit on the plastic stools because they were covered in layers of grease.

...I probably won't see him here.

Silently thinking to herself, Cen hope scanned the scene before her again through the rain.

"Aunt Fang, he's not here..."

Before the last word had even finished fading, Aunt Fang pointed in surprise at a black dot in the distance and exclaimed, "Madam, isn't that Mr. Shang?!"

Cen hope's heart jumped again.

He raised his other hand, which was holding the phone, and shone the flashlight on it.

In the continuous mist.

The man was wearing a black shirt, without even a jacket. The rain soaked through his body, outlining his thin muscles, making him almost blend into the rainy night.

The sound of breathing suddenly became heavy and deep at that moment.

Cen hope's mind went blank for a moment.

It is indeed Shang Hanzhou.

He was actually here.

How long has he been here?

How did he endure such a dirty, smelly environment? Was he insane?

What could possibly be worth searching for so diligently?

An indescribable heartache spread through Cen hope's heart. Biting her lower lip, she ran towards that familiar tall figure without hesitation, holding up her umbrella.

"Shang Hanzhou!"

The woman's clear voice came through the rain.

Shang Hanzhou was wearing gloves; the property management staff had left him a pair of black gloves after they couldn't persuade him to leave. The man's brow was furrowed tightly.

He searched through almost all the trash in the place.

But the eight love letters still couldn't be found.

Seeing his condition, the property management staff tried to persuade him several times, saying, "Mr. Shang, you can buy other things if you run out."

"A batch of garbage was already disposed of this morning, so what you're looking for may have already been disposed of."

That was his wife's most precious girlish secret when she was eighteen.

You can't buy it anywhere else in the world.

He dropped it himself, and now it's his turn to take it back.

"Shang Hanzhou!"

The familiar voice came again, and he stopped in his tracks. The rain above his head was blocked, and Cen hope appeared beside him with an umbrella. The woman's light fragrance dispelled the surrounding odor.

Shang Hanzhou frowned and immediately took half a step back.

"Manman, don't come near me."

He was dirty.

Under the pouring rain, her eyes seemed to be wet as well.

Cen hope didn't hesitate or listen to his words. For the first time, she overstepped her bounds in front of him and rushed into his arms, wrapping one arm around his lean waist.

"I don't want to."

His voice was choked with sobs.

Shang Hanzhou turned his face away in embarrassment.

His lips were still bruised, and his long black eyelashes slowly lowered. He glanced at his black gloves, suppressing the urge to hug the woman in his arms again.

It's so dirty.

Even he himself couldn't stand it.

"Let's go home."

Cen hope sniffed as she spoke, her arms still wrapped around his waist.

Shang Hanzhou reassured him, "You go back first, I'll come back as soon as I find what I need."

"I know what you're looking for."

The voice in her arms was muffled.

Cen hope choked up: "It's those love letters, isn't it?"

When Aunt Fang told her that the things she had mistakenly thrown away were a few crumpled envelopes, she had a vague idea of ​​what they were, but she was never sure.

Cen hope wiped her moist eyes with her fingers.

"It was written for you."

It was eighteen-year-old Cen hope who, year after year, clumsily wrote it to him while lying on the table.

She finally admitted to herself the love she had kept hidden for him all these years.

Shang Hanzhou's throat tightened, and he closed his eyes, his eyes burning.

Every "Dear Z" in the love letters was actually him.

The heart beating in his chest seemed to be wrinkled and aching from the rain. He was somewhat at a loss, and couldn't hide his heartache for his wife.

"Shang Hanzhou, I've liked you for so many, many years."

The love that blossomed on a rainy day when I was eighteen.

Finally, at the age of twenty-eight, it broke through the soil and grew into a towering tree in front of people, trembling slightly.