After finishing dinner, Qin Lie and Chen Xi cleaned up the dishes in the kitchen together.
Qin Lie washed the dishes while Chen Xi cleaned the stovetop.
Chen Xi listened to the sound of rushing water and suddenly asked, “Qin Lie, what are you thinking?”
Qin Lie shook the clean plate and casually set it aside.
He turned back to glance at Chen Xi, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
“I’m planning to work weekdays in Beijing and return to Dunhuang on weekends.”
Chen Xi gripped the dishrag, forgetting the task at hand, staring at Qin Lie in complete shock.
“Are you kidding? Two flights every week?”
Qin Lie responded with a matter-of-fact “mm-hmm.”
“This is very normal. I know a friend from a law firm who specializes in corporate IPOs. Each project keeps him away for months at a time.”
“No matter where he goes for a project, he unfailingly returns to Beijing every week to be with his wife and children.”
Chen Xi: “That’s too extreme.”
Qin Lie smiled faintly and continued washing dishes.
“I used to think it was extreme too—”
He finished washing a plate and set it aside, saying casually, “Now I see it’s not extreme at all.”
Chen Xi’s heart was filled with mixed emotions.
“I don’t need this. There’s no need to exhaust yourself like this.”
Qin Lie said nothing more. After finishing the dishes and turning off the faucet, the kitchen suddenly became very quiet.
He turned to look at Chen Xi and called her name softly.
“Chen Xi—”
Chen Xi stopped her busy work, turned around, and looked at Qin Lie with complex emotions.
Qin Lie: “That art design job I mentioned to you—could you consider it?”
Chen Xi gripped the dishrag, momentarily speechless.
She knew this opportunity might be once-in-a-lifetime for her, and she was deeply tempted.
But reality was right here—she couldn’t abandon Grandma or leave the repair shop unattended.
Fatigue suddenly overwhelmed her. Chen Xi smiled at Qin Lie, her gaze carrying a trace of melancholy.
“Do you know? From childhood to now, my favorite animated film has always been the Nine-Colored Deer.”
The first time she saw Nine-Colored Deer on television as a child, the feeling was so wonderful—as if she had drawn that story herself.
Because she was from Dunhuang, the Nine-Colored Deer belonged to the Dunhuang people and belonged to her.
That pride remained a confident foundation in her life to this day.
“So when you told me that day about a video platform wanting to create a traditional Chinese-style animated series like Nine-Colored Deer, I was truly moved.”
She paused here and smiled gently.
“This is what I want to do,” she said quietly.
Qin Lie: “Since you’re moved by it, why not give it a try?”
Chen Xi didn’t answer Qin Lie’s question but asked instead, “This opportunity—you found it for me, didn’t you?”
Qin Lie was silent for a moment, then nodded.
“It involves my connections, but also your talent.”
Chen Xi: “Are you trying to use this irrefusible opportunity to get me to go to Beijing with you?”
Qin Lie smiled, his gaze frank.
“I did think about that initially.”
Chen Xi’s expression showed understanding. She smiled and said gently, “But Qin Lie, staying in Dunhuang is my bottom line. My grandmother is here, my repair shop is here—these are things I can’t abandon.”
Qin Lie nodded. “I know, but the art design matter isn’t that complicated for me anymore.”
Chen Xi raised her eyebrows slightly, asking with some confusion, “Why?”
Qin Lie smiled. “Because I’ve figured it out—whether you go to Beijing or not, our relationship won’t change.”
Chen Xi stared at Qin Lie blankly. A part of her heart was warmed by his words into a bright spring March, with grass growing and birds flying, so brilliant it dazzled the eyes.
But the rest remained the same rational self as always, like solid ice.
“Is it really that simple?”
She said quietly.
Qin Lie walked over and habitually reached up to pinch Chen Xi’s delicate earlobe.
“If you don’t leave, I’ll come back. It’s that simple.”