Liu stepped out of his sleek blue BMW M2 onto the cobbled street bordering Yuyuan Garden. The early morning mist, tinged golden by the rising sun, draped the ancient architecture in a dreamlike haze. Adjusting the collar of his crisp white shirt, Liu inhaled deeply, savoring the nostalgic fragrance of jasmine blossoms and damp stone pathways.
He glanced back into the car, spotting Lili absorbed in her phone, her dyed brown hair cascading over her shoulder in casual elegance. A sharp pang of memories surged within him, memories of laughter, late-night debates, and silent, simmering arguments.
"Are you coming, or staying attached to your screen?" he called softly, masking his feelings with a playful smirk.
Lili looked up, her dark eyes momentarily wide with surprise before narrowing in a familiar, teasing annoyance. "Some things never change, huh, Liu? Always impatient."
Together, they crossed the stone bridge and entered the garden. Inside, sunlight pierced the mist, illuminating the intricate carvings and lush greenery. By the temple entrance stood a newly married couple, their quiet joy emanating softly into the air. Liu watched them for a moment, noting the bride's simple elegance, her groom's quiet devotion.
"Seems surreal, doesn't it?" Lili remarked softly, breaking his contemplation. "We once joked about having a wedding here."
"Dreams and reality rarely intersect," Liu replied lightly, his tone carrying layers of unspoken sentiment.
She paused, the weight of their shared past pressing into the silence. Her gaze traveled slowly over the scene—the garden, the temple, the couple, and finally rested on Liu, a faint smile softening her expression. "Maybe not. But they make good stories."
"And that's what we always were," Liu murmured, stepping closer, his eyes fixed intently on hers. "A beautifully complicated story."
The silence deepened, neither daring to move, the mist enveloping them like the uncertainty of their emotions. Finally, Lili reached out gently, brushing an invisible speck from Liu's shoulder, her touch lingering for just a heartbeat longer than necessary.
"Maybe," she whispered, "but stories can always have sequels."