Later days.

Zhou Jinshen declined all work.

Under the Zhou family's name, a private plane took me to many tourist destinations I had longed for.

We went to Hokkaido, Japan, to soak in an open-air hot spring.

Little snowflakes fell from the sky, and flocks of white swans surrounded us, like a white fairy tale.

Zhou Jinshen captured my surprise on my face and raised his glass with a smile.

We went to Switzerland and skied in a small town hidden in the Alps for Christmas.

During sunset, Zhou Jinshen took out his camera and captured frame by frame of my photos against the backdrop of the golden sun.

I have seen various professional photographers.

At a glance, I knew Zhou Jinshen was a beginner who picked it up halfway.

But as he looked through the viewfinder at me, his expression was serious and almost devout.

It made me feel a bit uneasy, "Mr. Zhou, does this angle look good? What angle do you think is more suitable?"

Zhou Jinshen shook his head, his hands still in motion, "Just be natural."

We grew tired of the snowy scenery and went to the southern hemisphere.

In New Zealand's summer, it smelled of lavender.

Zhou Jinshen took me surfing at sea.

On the yacht, I recalled the memories of these days and suddenly felt moved, "Mr. Zhou, you and her have been to so many places together. You are truly happy."

I thought, Zhou Jinshen bringing me to these places was just revisiting old haunts.

But what awaited me was only a long, long silence.

The waves surged and intertwined, creating layers of spray.

The people around me cheered and jumped with joy as they caught beautiful little fish.

But Zhou Jinshen seemed suddenly detached from this place.

He silently put on his sunglasses and looked towards the distant reefs.

The sea breeze dispersed his melancholic voice.

Only one sentence reached my ears, "This happiness, I owe it to her."