With three superpowers at his fingertips, he could dominate the 1970s.

After dinner, Song Yanzhou took Jiang Zhiyu to see a movie.

The movie theater wasn't big. The wooden seats were painted a dark red, and the air was filled with the smell of sunflower seed shells and sweat. Every seat was taken, occupied by young men and women sitting in twos and threes.

The movie started playing shortly afterward!

Jiang Zhiyu actually thinks these old movies are still pretty good.

The people on screen were all brimming with energy and vitality, unlike the listless characters of later generations. This kind of spirit is something many people in later generations cannot emulate.

Jiang Zhiyu watched with great interest.

Song Yanzhou, however, was restless and uneasy.

He sat down next to Jiang Zhiyu, and a faint fragrance wafted over from her. It was a scent he had never smelled before, light and delicate, like grass and trees after the rain.

He had never been so close to her, or for so long.

His heart was pounding like a drum.

In the darkness, his hand stealthily slipped through the gap between the seats, slowly and inching closer.

My fingers touched the back of her hand.

Jiang Zhiyu was stunned for a moment.

Song Yanzhou's heart nearly stopped; he waited for her to pull her hand away.

But she didn't.

Her fingers twitched slightly, and then—

She grasped his hand in return.

Song Yanzhou's mind exploded!

She took his hand.

She took his hand.

She took his hand.

The thought swirled in his mind three times, each time burning with intense heat. He felt his heart pound in his chest, as if it were about to leap out of his throat.

Her hands were cold, his hands were hot.

The two temperatures overlapped, like ice and charcoal meeting, or like rain after a long drought.

He held her hand, gripping it tighter and tighter, his palms sweaty.

His hands were trembling slightly with nervousness.

Jiang Zhiyu sensed it.

She found it somewhat amusing, but didn't expose him.

She almost laughed. A grown man, a man who had fought on the battlefield and killed enemies, was getting this excited over holding hands.

Song Yanzhou moved his shoulder a little closer to Jiang Zhiyu, and the fragrance emanating from her became even more pronounced.

His heart started pounding even harder.

Seeing the couple in the front seat becoming even bolder, with the man's hand on the woman's shoulder and the woman leaning her head against his chest.

Song Yanzhou glanced at it and quickly looked away, feeling a mix of envy and trepidation.

He wanted to move closer.

But he was also afraid that she would think he was taking advantage of her. In this restless state, every second felt incredibly long, so long that he couldn't hear the movie, couldn't see anything around him, and could only hear his heart pounding wildly. But he just wanted to sit there holding her hand forever.

He was caught in this agonizing state for the entire movie. All his senses were focused on holding Jiang Zhiyu's hand, his whole body drenched in sweat. His back was soaked, and a thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead. In this chaotic mix of torment and sweetness, the music suddenly started—the movie was over!

The lights came on.

Song Yanzhou squinted for a moment because of the light, as if he had just been abruptly woken up from a long dream.

What was the movie about?

He had no recollection of it at all.

All he remembered was that her hands were very cold, his hands were very sweaty, and she had a faint scent of herbs.

He held Jiang Zhiyu's hand without moving, letting the others go out first. He whispered in Jiang Zhiyu's ear:

"Don't rush to let them leave first."

Jiang Zhiyu felt a tickle in her ears; the voice was magnetic, pleasant, and slightly trembling. It was as if the voice was constantly playing in her ears.

Once everyone had left, he helped the stunned Jiang Zhiyu to her feet.

Jiang Zhiyu snapped out of her daze and glanced at him:

"What did you think of the movie just now?"

Song Yanzhou chuckled incoherently:

"Very good, very good... well filmed."

"What's good about it?"

"They're all...all pretty good."

Jiang Zhiyu then realized that the person hadn't looked around much after going in.

She smiled slightly but didn't expose him.

When the two walked out of the movie theater, it was already dinnertime.

The streets were filled with people hurrying home, bicycle bells rang incessantly, and the setting sun bathed the entire street in a warm yellow hue.

The two walked along, exchanging pleasantries intermittently.

What they didn't know was that their looks and height made them a striking sight in the bustling crowd.

The man was tall and handsome, and the woman was aloof and ethereal. Walking side by side, they looked like they had stepped out of a painting, attracting frequent glances from passersby.

Song Yanzhou asked Jiang Zhiyu:

"Are you hungry? Do you want to go eat?"

Jiang Zhiyu thought for a while.

"Let's go home and eat."

Actually, she wanted to know the outcome of that matter. She knew it wouldn't be that quick, but she just wanted to ask Grandpa Song if he had sent any news.

Seventeen immediately started cursing in his mind:

"Host, you're such a killjoy! She wants to go out for dinner and shopping with you, but what are you doing, rushing home? Eating out is fine, you could even go for a walk in the park—what a great date opportunity!"

Jiang Zhiyu was slightly taken aback.

She turned her head to look at Song Yanzhou.

Sure enough, I saw a fleeting look of disappointment on his face.

He quickly covered it up, laughing and saying:

"Okay, let's go home then."

But the light in his eyes dimmed for a moment.

Looking at his profile, Jiang Zhiyu suddenly felt a soft spot in her heart.

She took a deep breath and changed her words:

"What would you like to eat? Or should we eat out again?"

Song Yanzhou suddenly turned his head.

The undisguised joy on his face blossomed like fireworks.

"Okay! What would you like to eat? Or shall we go for a walk first and then eat? Are you hungry?"

Jiang Zhiyu wasn't really hungry at the moment; the meal prepared by the imperial chef's descendant at noon had been far too lavish.

"Then let's see if there's a park nearby."

Seventeen then said with satisfaction:

"That's right! That's more like it! Why are you such a spoilsport all day..."

"Okay, I got it. Go tidy up the space."

Seventeen responded resentfully and shrank back.

Jiang Zhiyu glanced at Song Yanzhou:

"Let's go."

"Um!"

Song Yanzhou smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling with joy, unable to contain his excitement.

The two walked side by side toward the park.

The afterglow of the setting sun shone on them, casting long, overlapping shadows of the two of them.

The leaves on the trees along the street rustled in the wind, as if they were whispering secrets to someone.

Song Yanzhou walked on her outside, maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far.

But this time, his hand quietly crossed the invisible line.

He gently touched the back of her hand with his fingertips.

Jiang Zhiyu did not dodge.

A warm feeling welled up inside him, and he grew bolder, slowly locking his fingers around hers. His eyes, however, darted around; if anyone was nearby, he would immediately release her.

Jiang Zhiyu lowered her eyes and smiled slightly.

She neither grasped his hand nor pulled it away.

She let his fingertips gently trace hers, as if testing her, or as if confirming her presence.

The evening breeze in May carried the scent of plants and trees from the park.

The two people's shadows were stretched long by the setting sun as they walked slowly forward, step by step.

No one spoke.

But some things don't need to be said.