Fireworks in the Morning Light

At seven thirty in the morning, Tang Wulin's internal clock went off with the precision of something carved into his bones.

He climbed out of bed as quietly as possible, afraid of disturbing the person still sleeping beside him.

Gu Yue lay on her side, her black hair spread across the pillow like smooth silk. Her breathing was light, but her brows were faintly furrowed. Even in her sleep, her body seemed to remember last night's exhaustion—the soreness in her waist left her posture somewhat stiff despite her deep slumber.

Tang Wulin's gaze rested on her face for a few seconds, soft as morning mist.

The kitchen light was turned down to its dimmest setting, casting a warm yellow glow over the counter. Tang Wulin tied on an apron and skillfully rinsed the rice, added water, and pressed the switch on the rice cooker.

Then came the fried eggs. He deliberately kept the heat low, letting the edges slowly turn golden and crisp while keeping the yolks soft and runny. He sliced some ham, toasted two pieces of bread, and warmed a glass of milk. The fragrance of food gradually filled the tiny kitchen, carrying a comforting warmth.

At eight thirty, Tang Wulin turned off the gas and set breakfast on the dining table. He returned to the bedroom, sat by the bed, and gently patted Gu Yue's shoulder. "Gu Yue, time to get up. Breakfast is ready."

Gu Yue gave a drowsy hum without opening her eyes. She merely buried her face deeper into the pillow and mumbled something unintelligible, sounding like, "Five more minutes." Then she turned over, wrapped herself more tightly in the blanket, and her breathing soon became even and slow again.

Tang Wulin smiled helplessly. He knew Gu Yue was truly exhausted. Beneath her stubborn act last night lay physical exhaustion pushed past its limits. He bent down to tuck in her blanket, then returned to the kitchen and carefully packed the breakfast, which had already started to cool, into a thermal container. He covered the pot as well, letting the remaining warmth keep it heated.

He simply sat down on the living room sofa and took out an old gardening book to read.

Sunlight slipped through a gap in the curtains, casting a thin patch of light across the floor that slowly shifted as the sun rose. The room was quiet, filled only with Gu Yue's steady breathing and the occasional sound of him turning a page.

Time flowed through the stillness. By the time Tang Wulin had finished half a chapter on caring for succulents, it was nearly eleven. He got up, walked to the bedroom door, and knocked lightly. No one answered.

When he pushed open the door, Gu Yue was indeed still asleep. Half the blanket had fallen onto the floor, and she was curled up like a child lacking a sense of security.

Tang Wulin walked over, picked up the blanket, and covered her again. When his fingertips brushed her forehead, he reached out and touched her cheek. It was somewhat dry. "Gu Yue?" he called, raising his voice slightly.

This time, Gu Yue reacted. Her long lashes trembled, and she slowly opened her eyes. Those eyes, usually as cold and clear as an icy pool, were now veiled in moisture, making her seem confused and sluggish.

She stared blankly for several seconds before recognizing Tang Wulin standing beside the bed. In a hoarse voice, she asked, "What time is it?"

"Eleven thirty," Tang Wulin said. "You overslept. Breakfast is still warm in the pot. I'll bring it over."

Gu Yue braced herself and sat up, only for a wave of soreness and numbness to shoot through her waist, making her suck in a breath. Tang Wulin quickly went into the kitchen, poured the food from the thermal container into bowls, heated it in the microwave, and carried it to the small table in the bedroom.

"Eat up. It's almost gone cold," he said as he sat by the bed and watched her.

Gu Yue mechanically picked up a spoon and brought a spoonful of porridge to her mouth. It tasted like nothing. She had little appetite, but she knew she needed to eat something. Tang Wulin did not urge her. He simply stayed quietly by her side, occasionally tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear.

The afternoon passed in a lazy atmosphere. Gu Yue took a hot shower, and the pain in her waist eased considerably, but she still could not summon any energy. She curled up on the sofa and dozed.

Toward evening, Tang Wulin tied on his apron to prepare dinner. When he opened the refrigerator, however, he found it nearly empty, with only a few wilted scallions and half a bottle of soy sauce left. "Looks like we need to go out and buy groceries today," he said to Gu Yue.

Gu Yue raised her head, her gaze still somewhat unfocused. "You go. I don't want to move."

"Didn't you say yesterday that you wanted sweet and sour ribs?" Tang Wulin suggested with a smile. "Besides, we're out of rice and eggs too. Come with me. We can get some fresh air while we're at it."

Gu Yue hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. She changed out of her lounge clothes, put on a coat, and followed Tang Wulin out.

In the residential complex's underground garage, Tang Wulin started the car. Gu Yue sat in the passenger seat, staring dazedly at the streetlights flashing past outside. By the time they drove into the parking lot of a supermarket in the city center, the evening lights had just begun to glow.

The supermarket was brightly lit and crowded. The lights in the fresh produce section were especially harsh, while the refrigerated cases gave off a pale chill. Tang Wulin pushed the shopping cart, with Gu Yue walking beside him as they passed through the crowd toward the vegetable section.

As they passed a row of shelves, Tang Wulin casually glanced back and caught sight of something that stirred his heart.

Gu Yue stood before the shelves of lettuce and spinach, bent slightly as she carefully compared the freshness of two bundles of greens. Her brows were faintly furrowed, her lips lightly pursed, and her gaze was as focused as if she were studying a complicated tactical report. She was utterly different from the proud, aloof girl in his memories, who always regarded everything with a scrutinizing gaze. Now, she wore a simple beige sweater, her hair casually tied into a ponytail, with a few loose strands hanging beside her ears. She held a bunch of cilantro as though it were some priceless treasure.

Tang Wulin leaned against the shopping cart and watched her quietly. He remembered the first time he had seen Gu Yue at Eastsea Academy. She had stood beneath the sunlight, her skin so fair it was almost translucent, her gaze cold, and an aura of keeping strangers away surrounding her.

Back then, she would probably have considered buying groceries a waste of time.

But what about now?

Gu Yue selected the vegetables, then rose onto her tiptoes to reach for potatoes on the top shelf.

Watching her efforts, Tang Wulin's lips unconsciously curved upward. She finally got the potatoes and held them in her arms like trophies. Then she turned toward Tang Wulin, a trace of inquiry appearing on her face. "What do you think of these potatoes? They look pretty fresh."

"Yeah, not bad." Tang Wulin walked over and naturally took the potatoes from her arms, placing them into the cart. "What else do we need? I saw the ribs. They're in the frozen section."

"Oh, right, ribs." Gu Yue nodded and pushed the cart onward. When they passed the condiment section, she stopped and stared at the rows of sauce bottles for a long time. In the end, she picked up a bottle labeled "Secret Sweet and Sour Sauce," checked the ingredients, then put it back and chose an ordinary bottle of ketchup instead. "Let's make it ourselves. It'll be healthier."

Tang Wulin watched her back, a strange warmth rising within him. Behind this enormous change lay the years they had spent together.

From testing each other and clashing head-on at the beginning, to facing life-and-death trials together, and then to the ordinary routine of daily life.

Gu Yue had changed. She was no longer the girl who needed to arm herself with indifference and pride. Life's trivialities had worn down her sharp edges, but they had also given her the genuine warmth of everyday living.

They bought ribs, potatoes, green peppers, scallions, ginger, garlic, and strawberries that Gu Yue suddenly wanted to eat.

By the time they checked out, the shopping cart was piled full.

On the way home, Gu Yue sat in the passenger seat, watching the flashing neon lights outside. Suddenly, she spoke. "Wulin."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." Her voice was so soft that it was almost drowned out by the melody from the car stereo.

Tang Wulin's grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he glanced at her. "For what?"

"Thank you... for putting up with my bad temper, for putting up with my willfulness." Gu Yue lowered her head, unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes between her fingers. "The old me probably never would have imagined going to the supermarket with you just to make dinner, let alone spending so long agonizing over a bunch of vegetables."

Tang Wulin's heart melted completely.

He remembered when Gu Yue had first moved in with him. Because she was unaccustomed to housework, she had turned the kitchen into a complete mess and nearly caused a small accident by forgetting to turn off the gas.

Back then, she had been just as stubborn, refusing to admit fault. She had only looked at him with those cold eyes, as if saying, I can handle it myself. But now, she would take the initiative to share the work and help him prepare vegetables while he cooked.

When they got home, Tang Wulin carried the ingredients into the kitchen.

The kitchen was small enough that it was difficult for two people to turn around in it. Tang Wulin handled the ribs, tenderizing the meat with the back of his knife, while Gu Yue washed the vegetables beside him and sliced the green peppers into thin strips. Cooking fumes rose, and the sounds of the spatula striking the wok mixed with their quiet conversation.

"You added too much salt."

"It's fine. Add some sugar to balance it out."

"These shredded potatoes seem a little too thick."

"Thicker is good. They have more bite."

These little exchanges formed the truest backdrop of life. The city outside remained noisy, but in this tiny space, there was only the fragrance of food and the warmth of their companionship.

When the sweet and sour aroma of the ribs filled the room, Gu Yue suddenly stopped what she was doing and looked at Tang Wulin's busy back.

Under the light, the contours of his profile were distinct, with tiny beads of sweat at his temple. In that moment, Gu Yue clearly felt that the distance that had once seemed impossible to cross had long since melted away in the details of their everyday life.

What replaced it was a steady, warm sense of belonging.

Dinner was abundant. The sweet and sour ribs were perfectly balanced, the shredded potatoes crisp, and the greens vibrant. The two sat at the dining table and ate slowly. The evening news played on the television, its host reporting on events across the Federation in an even tone.

Gu Yue placed a piece of rib into Tang Wulin's bowl. "Eat more. You worked hard today."

Tang Wulin looked at her and smiled. "You should eat more too. Build up your strength."

After dinner, Gu Yue took the initiative to clear the dishes and carry them into the kitchen to wash. Tang Wulin wanted to help, but she pushed him out. "Go rest. I can handle something this small."

Tang Wulin stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Gu Yue's back as she wore an apron and washed dishes amid the rush of running water. The warm yellow light enveloped her, stretching her shadow long.

This girl who had once been as proud as a solitary moon and as cold as frost was now seriously washing dishes for their home.

The night grew deeper, and moonlight quietly streamed in through the window. Tang Wulin and Gu Yue sat side by side on the sofa, with a box of washed strawberries between them.

The juice burst in their mouths, just like their life at that moment—ordinary, yet filled with a lingering sweetness.