The results of the compatibility test would take some time.
Life went on. But the relationship between upstairs and downstairs had undergone a seismic shift.
The cold room on the sixth floor gradually began to feel like a home.
Lin Zhou moved many of her things upstairs. She placed a pot of green ivy on the windowsill, spread a warm tablecloth on the table, and bought a small bookshelf, filling it with books they both loved.
She no longer just brought him food; she ate with him. They would talk about interesting things that happened at the bookstore, discuss plots from books. After meals, Shen Che would pick up the old guitar and play Zhou for her. The melody was no longer halting, but filled with a tenderness that had been lost and found.
Sometimes, Lin Zhou would lean on his shoulder, listening to the music, watching the sunset out the window. She would feel as if the past three years had been nothing but a long nightmare. Now, she was awake, and the man she loved was still by her side.
Her own apartment downstairs was gradually neglected. She only went down occasionally to clean or grab something.
One evening, as they were taking a walk downstairs, Shen Che suddenly said, "Zhou Zhou, let's give up the lease on the downstairs apartment."
Lin Zhou was taken aback.
"Move all your things up. From now on, this will be our home," Shen Che said, holding her hand tightly.
Lin Zhou looked at him and smiled, her eyes moistening.
"Okay."
The physical barrier, the ceiling that had separated them for three years, was finally about to disappear.