Chapter 51
As Lu Xuefeng got older, he stopped choreographing and directing for the theater, accepting a position as a lecturer in classical dance theory at Z University’s dance department.
This meant he and Song Muqing now worked at the same university.
Lu Xuefeng, a renowned choreographer, was a popular lecturer, his classes well-received by the students.
Professor Song would affectionately address him as “Teacher Lu.”
Everyone knew they were partners.
They were often seen together.
After so many years of marriage, their relationship was still strong, the envy of many.
One day, during a lecture, while discussing a topic related to their daily lives, Lu Xuefeng casually mentioned Song Muqing. “Like my husband, for example…”
Before he could finish his sentence, the classroom erupted in excited murmurs.
Lu Xuefeng paused, smiling, waiting for them to settle down before continuing.
As they walked around campus, students would often greet them as “Teacher Lu” and “Professor Song.”
The food at the university canteen was decent, and when they didn’t feel like cooking, they would eat there. They often played badminton at the university gym and even attended university events together.
Life was fulfilling and vibrant.
Lu Xuefeng was content.
They had lived in Wu City for many years, the city becoming their home. Even in their old age, they chose to stay, not considering other retirement destinations.
Life was much the same as before, a comfortable routine of everyday life.
But there were some changes.
They had adopted a ginger cat.
They had debated between a dog and a cat, but Ollie held a special place in their hearts, irreplaceable.
So, they chose a cat.
Coincidentally, the cat had appeared the day after they decided not to get another dog.
It was a rainy autumn day, and the small, bedraggled kitten had been hiding under their car, shivering and meowing pitifully.
They took it home.
And it became their new pet.
They named him Lulu, after the traditional Chinese solar term Bailu, the day they found him.
Lulu had grown into a chubby cat, the king of their household, affectionate and demanding of attention, loving to nap in sunbeams with them.
While Song Muqing worked in his study, Lulu would lie on his desk, mostly sleeping, occasionally nudging him for attention, wanting him to take a break.
Lulu slept in their bedroom.
But they always woke up first.
Thanks to their active lifestyle in their younger years, they were still healthy and fit in their old age.
They had regular check-ups, followed their doctor’s advice, and maintained a positive attitude. They woke up naturally every morning, without an alarm clock, even before Lulu, the laziest member of their household.
In the mornings, after washing up, they would prepare breakfast, then tend to their plants on the balcony. Lu Xuefeng had noticed Song Muqing’s fondness for plants, often fussing over them like an old man. Now, in his old age, it had become a full-fledged hobby. Their balcony was filled with plants, gifts from friends and their own purchases, each one unique and beautiful. Lu Xuefeng often helped him water them.
Then they would go for a walk in the park. It was a beautiful, sunny day, perfect for a stroll.
The park was nearby, and they walked there.
The security guard greeted them with a smile. “Going for your walk again?”
Song Muqing nodded. “Our daily routine.”
“That’s good. Exercise is important.”
The park was already filled with people, mostly their age, exercising. They were familiar with many of them, and Song Muqing exchanged greetings. But they stood out among the crowd, their refined demeanor and elegant attire evident.
They found a bench and sat down, enjoying the sun. Lu Xuefeng closed his eyes, the warmth on his face soothing. When he opened his eyes, he saw Song Muqing looking at him.
“Staring at me again,” he said softly. Lately, Song Muqing had been looking at him intently, his gaze filled with affection.
“You haven’t changed at all,” Lu Xuefeng commented.
“How is that possible?” Lu Xuefeng asked, seeing the strands of silver in his hair, more noticeable in the sunlight, making him look even more distinguished. He touched his hair gently. “You’re getting gray hairs, Professor Song.”
Song Muqing blinked, not bothered by it. “We both are.”
“Yes.”
It wasn’t just the gray hair. Their faces were lined with wrinkles, their skin no longer as firm and smooth. But the marks of time were gentle. They looked younger than their actual age. They had witnessed each other’s aging, the first wrinkles, the first gray hairs, markers of a new stage in their lives. They had lost some things, but they had gained so much more. Now, having weathered the storms of life, they were content, their health their greatest blessing.
After their walk, they joined a group of people chatting in the park. Lu Xuefeng stretched his legs, listening to their conversation, occasionally chiming in. They talked about everyday matters, sharing news and gossip. When the topic shifted to grandchildren, Song Muqing and Lu Xuefeng excused themselves, not interested in the conversation. They were content with their life together, not envying anyone. They were never anxious about such things.
The photos on their wall at home were gradually replaced with newer ones, the framed photos on their nightstands updated with recent pictures. They had traveled extensively when their schedules were less demanding, packing light and enjoying the journey, their trips spontaneous and carefree. They focused on experiencing the local culture, not just ticking off tourist attractions, immersing themselves in the local markets and customs. They had explored countless destinations, both domestic and international.
Their first photo together remained on the wall, a reminder of their beginnings, surrounded by photos from their travels, a visual record of their life together. They had also developed a habit of sending each other postcards from every place they visited, writing short, simple messages expressing their feelings.
One weekend, Lu Xuefeng was organizing their belongings, finding a stack of postcards, the ink on the older ones faded, but the messages still legible. He flipped through them, the memories flooding back. He hadn’t realized he remembered every detail, even after all these years.
Lulu, waking up from his nap, jumped onto the bed, nuzzling against Lu Xuefeng. He gently stroked his head, then carried him to the study, where Song Muqing was reading research papers, his glasses on. The sunlight streamed in through the window. Lu Xuefeng set Lulu down, and he jumped onto Song Muqing’s lap. They exchanged smiles.
“Done organizing?” Song Muqing asked.
“Yes,” Lu Xuefeng sat on the sofa in the study. “I found our postcards. So many memories.”
“Where should we go next?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Lu Xuefeng replied. Their trips weren’t always planned; sometimes, they were spontaneous. But now, being older, they preferred shorter trips, having seen so much of the world. They hadn’t made any plans this year, content with spending their time at home, finding joy in simple pleasures: playing chess, drinking tea, fishing, hiking, taking walks with Ollie.
Song Muqing often played chess with Lao Li in the park, their matches attracting a small crowd. They were evenly matched, their games lasting for hours. On summer evenings, after dinner, Lu Xuefeng would sit beside him, fanning him to keep him cool and ward off mosquitoes. The others would tease Lao Li, saying he was lucky to have someone fanning him while they were all sweating. Song Muqing would smile at Lu Xuefeng, then turn to them, his tone slightly smug. “Jealous? Get yourselves a fan.”
A few days ago, they had taken a spontaneous bus ride, missing their stop at the flower and bird market and deciding to stay on until the end of the line, then taking the bus back, a long, meandering journey through the city. The passengers thinned out, until it was just the two of them and the driver, the only sounds the rumble of the engine and the automated announcements. Lu Xuefeng watched the light and shadows shift inside the bus, the dust motes dancing in the air, each stop like a new destination. He found it peaceful. They sat together, and Lu Xuefeng took Song Muqing’s hand, their fingers intertwined, the rough texture of their palms a familiar comfort. They had come a long way together. Song Muqing held his hand tightly.
They had a movie to watch that afternoon, so they didn’t eat at home.
They got ready, dressing up for their date.
“Is this a date?” Lu Xuefeng asked.
Song Muqing’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “It is.”
They had chosen a romantic film, well-reviewed, and were looking forward to it.
After collecting their tickets, they had some time before the movie started.
Lu Xuefeng looked around; the cinema was mostly filled with young couples. They stood out among the crowd.
Song Muqing’s gaze lingered on the popcorn stand. His doctor had advised him to limit his sugar intake.
But it had been a while; he could indulge today.
They bought a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas, then joined the queue, their retro outfits and the popcorn creating an amusing contrast, attracting curious glances. They ignored the attention, finding their seats and settling in, like any other couple.
As they left, Song Muqing bought a small bouquet of flowers for Lu Xuefeng from a vendor at the subway station.
The young woman smiled, handing him the flowers. “May you grow old together,” she said.
Song Muqing gave the flowers to Lu Xuefeng, accepting the blessing.
But in their eyes, they were already old together.
For their thirtieth wedding anniversary, Lu Xuefeng and Song Muqing wore suits.
It was late autumn, the weather cooling down.
They wore warm layers underneath; the suits fit them well, not too constricting.
Lu Xuefeng adjusted Song Muqing’s collar in front of the mirror.
Song Muqing, still wearing his silver-rimmed glasses, looked at him, his gaze soft and affectionate.
To him, Lu Xuefeng, even with age, was still beautiful, calm, and alluring. His previously aloof demeanor had softened, a gentle serenity about him. He had seen him lecture countless times at the university, his every move reflecting years of experience in dance, an innate artistic grace.
Song Muqing raised his hand, gently caressing Lu Xuefeng’s ear.
Lu Xuefeng looked at him, smiling warmly.
Thanks to a healthy diet and regular exercise, their physiques hadn’t changed much; they still looked good in suits.
“As handsome as ever,” Lu Xuefeng commented, patting his shoulder.
Song Muqing was pleased by the compliment. Although they accepted growing older, they weren’t ready to admit to being less attractive. Their youthful charm still lingered, their gaze on the world now calm and accepting, a gentle serenity that came with age.
They weren’t restless or anxious, just calm and content.
Perhaps it was love, but Lu Xuefeng found Song Muqing even more attractive now, his youthful charm replaced by a mature wisdom and quiet confidence.
“You too,” Song Muqing replied, leaning down and kissing his forehead. “Being with you makes me happy.”
He was grateful for their marriage, for the life they had built together. Even the mundane, everyday moments were filled with warmth and happiness. Their love was a gentle, steady stream, flowing through their lives.
Like the warm sunlight, bright and comforting.
They were dressed formally to have their photos taken at a photo studio, red background ID photos, similar to their wedding photos.
They did this every year for their anniversary, a tradition, a visual record of their journey together, the photos kept in a small album. They didn’t always wear suits, but they always chose coordinating outfits. Even with wrinkles on their faces, they didn’t need makeup, just a simple, natural look.
They went to the same photo studio every year, a familiar ritual. Even photos from their travels were printed here. The studio had been in business for years, the owner, a middle-aged woman, remembering them fondly, almost like friends. She greeted them warmly, asking if they were traveling this year. Lu Xuefeng said they were staying home, enjoying their time together.
The owner smiled. “That’s good.” She sighed. “I want to travel too, but I can’t find the time.”
Song Muqing replied, “You can travel anytime. If you have a destination in mind, just go.”
“I wish I had your mindset.”
The owner was envious. Although she didn’t have children, she had elderly parents to care for and couldn’t leave her business unattended. She was inspired by their attitude. “While we’re still healthy, we should see the world, enjoy life, otherwise, we’ll regret it later.”
“Yes,” they agreed.
The owner led them inside, adjusted the backdrop, picked up her camera, and asked them to stand closer together, just like before. “Look this way,” she said, and they both looked at the camera, smiling faintly. The camera clicked, a quick and simple process. She uploaded the photo to her computer, adjusted the size, and printed it without any retouching, as requested. The printer whirred, and the photo emerged. She placed it in a small paper bag and handed it to them. “Beautiful photo. You look very handsome in your suits. Stay happy.”
They took the photo, thanking her.
Lu Xuefeng put it in his pocket, planning to add it to their album later.
Another happy year of marriage.
They paid and left the studio, strolling home. They had already eaten dinner, but the aroma of coffee from a nearby cafe was tempting in the cool autumn air. Song Muqing asked if Lu Xuefeng wanted some coffee, and he said yes, so Song Muqing went inside to buy some. Lu Xuefeng sat on a bench, waiting, taking out the photo and looking at it. The red background made them look vibrant, their smiles gentle. He traced the lines on the photo, his finger lingering on the wrinkles around Song Muqing’s eyes, the silver strands in his hair more prominent now. He felt a pang of nostalgia.
A cup of hot coffee appeared in his field of vision, and Song Muqing sat beside him. “Your coffee, Teacher Lu.” Lu Xuefeng took the cup, thanking Professor Song. They sat together, enjoying the aroma of their lattes, watching the autumn leaves fall. The autumn atmosphere was like a scene from a movie. The fallen leaves crunched under their feet.
Lu Xuefeng received a message from Yin Xiaoyu, saying her daughter had sent them a lot of food and inviting them over to pick some up. Yin Xiaoyu had married the doctor and had a daughter, now grown up and working in another city. She often sent them gifts. They had been close, Lu Xuefeng and Song Muqing practically watching her grow up. Lu Xuefeng replied, saying they would visit in a couple of days. They had remained close over the years.
He put away his phone, turning to Song Muqing. Song Muqing brushed the hair off his forehead, his touch gentle. “Happy anniversary, Xuefeng.”
Lu Xuefeng nodded. “Happy anniversary.”
The setting sun painted the sky in vibrant hues. Autumn arrived and departed, year after year, time marching on. They remained by each other’s side, no longer afraid of anything.
Years ago, Lu Xuefeng had had a long dream during an afternoon nap.
He had told Song Muqing when he woke up, “I had a long dream.”
“What did you dream about?”
“We were old men.”
Song Muqing had asked, “Were we still handsome as old men?”
Lu Xuefeng had smiled. “Yes, even with gray hair and wrinkles, we were still handsome.”
Song Muqing had held him close, listening to him recount his dream. The afternoon sun was warm, and they were both drowsy from their nap.
Song Muqing had leaned down and kissed him.
“We’ll grow old together.”
“Yes,” Lu Xuefeng had replied.
-END-
