Nono rested her chin in her hand, thought for a long time, then shook her head, “I haven’t decided yet… I’m serious. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with Caesar—he treats me really well—but I just don’t know why I should marry him.”
“I asked my mom that question,” Susie said, “My mom said… only married couples can register their kids for residency.”
Nono covered her face, “Your mom is amazing!”
“You don’t need a reason, do you? It’s simple: if you like someone, if they treat you well, and you want to be with them forever, then you marry them and keep them for yourself,” Susie said.
“Do you like Chu Zihang? How long do you think you’ll like him?” Nono asked softly, looking up at the night sky.
Susie looked up and saw her clear eyes reflecting the moonlight, her face unusually expressionless. She knew Nono was deep in thought, so she answered seriously, “I don’t know. Maybe if I find a boyfriend, I won’t like him anymore.”
“If Chu Zihang suddenly proposed to you, and you married him, you’d never have another boyfriend again. Would you like him for the rest of your life then?”
Susie thought for a while, then shook her head, “I don’t know. I’ve never liked anyone for a lifetime.”
“I just haven’t figured out why I would marry someone; it’s not that I’m dissatisfied with Caesar.” Nono thought for a moment. “If Chu Zihang gave you a ring, would you marry him? Then cook him breakfast every day, frying eggs while he reads the newspaper in the morning?”
“Impossible!” Susie said seriously. “He doesn’t eat fried eggs; he only eats boiled ones!”
Susie lowered her head, “He never gave me the chance to understand him.”
“Exactly,” Nono said, lowering her head to meet Susie’s eyes. “When you first start liking someone, it’s when you understand them the least. Like Chu Zihang—the cool, expressionless guy. You don’t know when he’s happy or when he’s sad. He’s like a book whose cover hasn’t even been opened to you. But you still think about him, wanting desperately to open that book and see what’s written inside. Maybe one day, if you’re together, you’ll finally open that book, and it’ll be so interesting you’ll read it over and over, unable to put it down… But after a year, or two, or five, or ten, you finish the book and memorize every line. Would you still keep reading it, or would you put it back on the shelf? Books on the shelf are rarely opened again.”
Susie stayed silent for a long time, then gently patted Nono’s cheek, “Aren’t you tired, always having so many thoughts? Caesar is already an amazing boyfriend, so what kind of person do you want to marry?”
“I’ve thought about that!” Nono’s eyes lit up. “The person I want to marry is the one who makes me believe he’ll always be with me, who’ll stay by my side as long as I need him. When I’m scared, even if I can’t find anyone else, I’ll always be able to find him. When I wake up from a nightmare, his name will be the one I instinctively shout out.”
“Yeah,” Susie said with a serious expression, “in that case, you could get a dog. Name it something like ‘Oh-so-scary,’ and when you have a nightmare, you’ll call out, ‘Oh-so-scary!’”
“How dare you tease me?” Nono pounced back into the hot spring, shoving Susie in as well.
Steam rose like a curtain, and the laughter of the girls mixed with distant wolf howls. Nearby, a man selling ice beer, huddled in his old sheepskin coat, caught a fleeting glimpse of beautiful curves in the mist, and silently wiped away a nosebleed.
A “beep beep” sound came from Nono’s phone, which was in a waterproof plastic pouch. It was a text message.
Nono surfaced from the hot spring, shaking off the water from her hair, and opened the message:
“Dear: This may come as a surprise to you, but for me, it’s been long planned. Please be patient and read through this message…”
It was from Caesar Gattuso. Nono widened her eyes in surprise, exchanging a glance with Susie, who had come over to peek.
In Italy, Portofino, at the Splendid Hotel…
Caesar held a glass of gin with ice, leaning against a marble pillar. A solitary light above cast its glow on him. The night had fallen, and a storm was sweeping across the Gulf of Genoa. The hotel had retracted the outdoor umbrellas and café tables inside, leaving the courtyard empty, with only Caesar there. Behind him, the indoor lights shone brightly, and the ensemble played smooth blues. In front of him was the dark, stormy night. From his position, he could see the pale gray sea surging, like a giant sea beast about to rise from the depths. Waves several meters high crashed against the cliff below, while the lighthouse’s beam monotonously swept across the water.
Caesar dialed a number, “This is Caesar Gattuso. I want to know if my account has been frozen.”
On the other end, the voice of his bank’s private wealth advisor sounded anxious, “How could that happen, Mr. Gattuso? You’ve always been our bank’s highest-level client; who would dare freeze your account? I just checked again—everything with your account is in order…”
Caesar silently hung up, too tired to argue. Of course, there were people who would dare freeze his account. His lavish spending was funded by family allowances; both his father and uncle had the power to suspend or permanently close his account. After the intense confrontation with his uncle today, the old man had left with a face full of rage. Caesar hadn’t expected him to actually freeze his account. For years, Caesar had tested his uncle’s limits, and no matter how intense Frost Gattuso’s fury was, he had never punished his nephew. In this regard, the family’s love for Caesar was indeed as vast as the Gulf of Genoa.
Caesar smiled silently. He had always spent the family’s money freely while being prepared for his account to be closed at any moment. He knew that the conflict between him and the family could never be reconciled. Ever since he claimed to be considering changing his surname to “Gullveig,” all the elders had been enraged. “How could you have such an absurd idea?” “That’s a lowly name!” “You can rebel against everything, but you cannot defy your bloodline!” Caesar looked at those angry old faces, finding it all rather amusing.
If one day he lost that endlessly flowing account, he would bid farewell to his current lifestyle—luxury sports cars, top-tier hotels, the glamour of high society, even the warmth of light behind him. He would walk alone into the storm.
“He can’t say that he doesn’t care at all.” He reached out his hand, letting the rain pour into his palm.
There was no reply to his text yet. He wiped his hand dry and reread the message he had just sent:
“…I once thought that when I proposed to you, I would pretend to invite you to an uninhabited island for a vacation. I would have my friends bring thousands of fireworks and wait on the beach on the other side of the sea. When we walked hand in hand to the shore, I would suddenly kneel down, take out the prepared ring, and the sky would be filled with fireworks reflecting off the sea. But now that this day has suddenly arrived, I didn’t have time to prepare the fireworks. I could certainly buy a ring right now, but there is no way to send it to China. The Mint Club folks said it would take until tomorrow morning at the earliest to deliver it to you. But I don’t want to wait any longer. I want to say it tonight—Nono, I want to announce to everyone in either a grand or a simple ceremony that we are engaged…”