It wasn't planned to be dramatic. Beichuan had decided that much early on no restaurant reservation, no orchestrated surprise, nothing that would make her feel cornered into a performance.
Just an evening. Just the two of them, for once, Luoli at Su Huilan's for the night.
They were on the balcony, the city spread out below, quiet in the particular way it got after most people had already gone home.
"You've been odd all day," Qinran said, leaning against the railing beside him.
"Have I."
"You keep touching your pocket. Like you're checking something's still there."
He huffed something close to a laugh.
"You notice everything."
"It's a useful skill."
He turned to face her properly.
"I want to ask you something," he said. "And I need you to actually let me finish this time, before you deflect."
"I don't deflect."
"You deflect constantly. It's part of your charm."
She raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue.
He reached into his pocket. Took out a small box.
"I had this made," he said. "Same design as before. I remembered every detail of it — I made sure they got it right."
She went very still.
"I told myself, if I ever got another chance, I wouldn't wait again." He paused, almost rueful. "Though I suppose I did wait. Longer than I meant to."
"You did."
"I wanted it to be right. Not rushed just to prove a point to myself."
He opened the box.
The ring inside caught the light the same way it had once before, in another life, on another table, under circumstances that had ended in the worst possible way.
She stared at it. Then at him.
"You remembered every detail," she said quietly. "After everything."
"Some things don't fade, no matter how much time passes."
Her eyes were wet, though she didn't seem to notice yet.
"Lin Qinran," he said. "I'm not going to make some long speech. You'd only make fun of me for it later."
"I would."
"So I'll just ask. Properly, this time. Will you marry me?"
She looked at the ring. At him. At the years behind them — the cafe, the accidental family, the quiet days, all of it leading, somehow, exactly here.
"Yes," she said. "Obviously, yes."
He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for longer than just that moment.
He slid the ring onto her finger, hands steadier than she expected, given everything.
She looked at it for a long moment.
"It fits," she said, faintly surprised.
"I made sure of that too."
She looked up at him.
"You really did wait for me. Twice."
"I'd have waited a third time, if it came to that."
She let out a small laugh, quiet and unguarded, and leaned into him, forehead resting against his shoulder.
Below them, the city carried on, indifferent and steady, the way it always had been.
Neither of them in any hurry to go back inside.