Time flowed on—1978 quietly slipped away, and 1979 arrived. In her memories, Aunt Joan’s student days remained a world of black and white. Those legendary academic feats—so dazzling in the annals of overseas study, so utterly dominant—were, to her, just part of the daily grind, nothing to get worked up about. And as for that increasingly shady, fidgety roommate of hers? Not worth a second thought.
But the colors in this world of memory had, for sure, grown richer. First, there was that carefully tended vase of fresh flowers—every day, Joan would wipe the leaves and spritz them with her custom-mixed plant food. Logically, these rituals ate up a lot of time and had nothing to do with studying, but the vivid reds and lush greens only grew more striking in her memory.
Second, every moment she spent with Adam Zade—the Zade family’s golden boy. He was busy with his own studies and responsibilities, but no matter what, he always managed to carve out a little time to meet up with Joan.
In 1979, Adam Zade didn’t just keep her in London—he took her out to see the world.
Mist drifted like clouds through the mountains of southwest Bavaria, Germany—so beautiful it could’ve been a painting. On the terrace at Neuschwanstein Castle, Joan cupped Adam’s face in her hands and asked, dead serious: “What’s that look supposed to mean?”
Without realizing it, she’d stopped using the phrase “muscle contraction.”
“It’s called ‘daydreaming,’” Adam replied, gazing out at the endless rolling green hills, a little wistful. “Look at this place—so peaceful, so refreshing. If I could, I’d build a castle right here and live in it forever, never having to deal with all that annoying real-world nonsense.”
In that moment, his daydream felt real.
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Waves lapped, sunshine blazed, and the humid sea breeze caressed the Aegean coast—a legendary place, beautiful as poetry every second of the day. On the golden sand, Adam stretched lazily under a beach umbrella. Joan strolled over, leaned down, and cupped his face, asking with total sincerity, “What’s that look supposed to mean?”
Without realizing it, her words had taken on a gentle tone.
“This is called ‘feeling at ease.’” Adam grabbed Joan’s hand, suddenly sprang up, and said, “Forget all that—blue skies, clear seas, gorgeous day! Let’s dance! Do you know how to dance?”
Joan looked a little embarrassed. “I’ve never learned…”
“No problem, I’ll teach you! Just like this—one-two-three, two-two-three, spin around, let’s go~~” No need for a band; Adam started humming the tune of the Cuckoo Waltz, and led Joan in a wobbly dance right there on the sand. “La la la, la la la, spin again~ Wow, you’ve really got a knack for this!”
The sun was blazing, but Adam’s smile was even brighter. The sun-baked sand was hot underfoot, but his palm was warmer still.
Suddenly, Joan broke free from Adam’s grip, cupped his smiling face, and asked, “What’s that look supposed to mean?”
“That’s ‘happiness’—no doubt about it.” Adam looked into her eyes, slowly lifted her hand, and took both of her hands again, his expression cheerful and light. “You really do know how to kill the vibe at just the right moment! Come on, let’s keep dancing~”
In that moment, his happiness felt real.
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The scorching sun baked the earth, waves of heat rising like the burning anger inside. In New Delhi’s slums, Adam Zade was panting hard, his eyes fierce and sharp, his face swollen and bruised, blood seeping from fresh wounds.
“What… what happened to you?” Joan was confused and a little lost. She raised her hand, but instead of the usual playful tap, she gently touched his bruises, like handling some precious, delicate instrument. “What’s that look supposed to mean?”
“Anger!” Adam shielded Joan, glaring at the group of Indian thugs with a look that could kill. Two of them were already coughing up blood on the ground, but the rest didn’t back down, shouting in Hindi and closing in with hostile intent.
“A-angry?” Joan still didn’t quite get it, troubled by some emotion she couldn’t name. “Why… be angry?”
“Because I understand Hindi. They were just plotting to—never mind, forget it. Bottom line, not a single word out of their mouths was decent. They all deserve what’s coming!” Outnumbered, Adam Zade showed no fear. He ripped off his torn shirt, revealing a tough, muscular build, and roared like a furious lion, charging right at them: “Come on, scum! Trash! Time for you to pay!”
In that moment, his anger felt real.
………………………………………
A cool night breeze carried the salty tang of the sea, and gentle waves lapped the shore, making the star-filled night feel even softer. In Victoria Harbour, a massive, luxurious cruise ship glided by, its opulent decor echoing the distant lights of British Hong Kong—a symbol of Asia’s wildest, most decadent era.
In the cruise ship’s fancy restaurant, Joan sat quietly by the window.
The ship was packed with Westerners, and in those days, anti-Red sentiment ran hot. They chatted away, critiquing the war on the China-Vietnam border, shooting unfriendly glances at the only Asian face in the room. But Joan didn’t care; every stare was meaningless. She just gazed out at Hong Kong, silent for a long, long time.
Of course, among all those Western faces, at least one pair of eyes was warm. Joan looked out the window, while Adam watched her with gentle eyes. After a while, Adam turned to look at Hong Kong under the night sky. “You really like it here, don’t you?”
“Like?” Joan’s brows knitted—this word felt way too complicated for her. But she didn’t argue; she just quietly pondered, unconsciously tugging at her facial muscles. Right then—bam! Two hands flashed across the table and grabbed her face: Adam, looking like he’d just won the lottery, absolutely ecstatic, practically bouncing in his seat. “Unbelievable! You actually made a face! Finally, you look alive!”
Waited forever, finally got my moment! After all these years, I finally get to see you make a face—and now it’s my turn to grab your cheeks!
Uh—wait a sec… Did I just do something totally outrageous…?
After a brief moment of excitement, Adam suddenly realized something.
He stared at his own hands, feeling the delicate, cool softness of her skin. Then he looked up at Joan, now making a pouty fish-face between his palms. Usually cold and distant, she now had a rare look of confusion in her eyes. She tilted her head, her little pout so cute, so… irresistible.
The sheer cuteness hit Adam like a shock. He froze, and a wild idea popped into his head.
Still holding her cheeks, Adam slowly stretched his neck out, squinting a little…
“What kind of face?” Beautiful night, perfect setting, perfect company—and Joan, in her usual flat tone, asked the one question guaranteed to ruin the mood: “Question: What expression am I making?”
“Hsss—” Adam, head halfway over, sucked in a breath like he had a toothache, then let it out in defeat. After a moment, something clicked, and his face relaxed. Smiling, he gave her cheeks a gentle squeeze and answered seriously, “It’s confusion. You’re confused.”
“Confused?” Joan made the same face again, now doubly confused: “Why am I confused?”
“You’re asking someone else about your own feelings?” Adam let go, shook his head with a laugh, and then paused to think. “But I guess I can take a stab at why you’re confused. Ever since I met you, you’ve always been weird. But nobody just pops into existence—you must have parents, family, siblings. Honestly, I’ve been trying to help you find them, but there aren’t many clues. The outfit you wore when we met was the only lead, so I guessed you were from this part of the world, which is why I brought you here. The situation is tense, so I can only show you the city from afar. Seeing all these people with yellow skin and black hair—do you feel anything familiar? Maybe you remember something, maybe it’s all a blur, and that’s why you’re confused.”
“Hmm…” Joan thought hard about her feelings, then nodded firmly. “I think you’re right. I am confused.”
“So it looks like you really do like it here.”
“Still not sure what ‘like’ actually means, so the verdict’s out.” Joan carefully noted her confusion, then shot back, “So, what are you confused about?”