The cashier finished ringing up Yin Xiaomo’s books and then began processing the purchases made by Ouchen.

He had bought only art books, yet not a single one was a repeat of what she had selected. As the cashier scanned the barcode on the back of a book, he glanced at the art collections Yin Xiaomo had chosen and asked in a low voice, “You don't have From Monet to Picasso in stock?” Yin Xiaomo looked up in astonishment! On the way to the bookstore, he had glanced at the list of art books she wanted to buy—only for a few seconds—yet he remembered it with such clarity.

“Ah, we sold the last copy the day before yesterday, and we haven’t restocked yet,” the cashier replied apologetically after checking her system.

“When is the earliest it can arrive?” “In three days. If you wish, we can send it directly to your company as soon as it arrives.” The cashier smiled broadly.

“Good,” Ouchen nodded.

As they left the bookstore, the sky was gloomy, threatening rain.

Yin Xiaomo noticed a “Temporarily Closed” sign placed near the entrance, but the moment she and Ouchen stepped out, an employee quickly retrieved the sign.

Ever since childhood, he had always been like this—in many situations, he would completely exclude everyone else, leaving just the two of them alone, which made her feel like nothing more than a canary he kept caged.

But then she reconsidered: with the news of their impending marriage swirling so loudly lately, perhaps clearing out the bookstore crowd was his way of trying to protect her.

She lowered her eyelashes, concealing the complexity in her eyes.

The extended Lincoln limousine cruised along the road back to the hospital.

The driver focused intently on his task.

Due to the soundproof glass partition, the space felt as if only Ouchen and Yin Xiaomo were present.

She gazed out at the passing scenery, her eyes distant and dull, her thoughts seemingly vacant, as still and serene as a porcelain doll.

He looked down at the financial newspaper, his fingers remaining fixed on the page, until finally, he lifted his head and silently fixed his gaze upon her.

“I’m sorry about the reports. They must be causing you a great deal of trouble.”

Ouchen’s deep voice broke the silence in the car.

Yin Xiaomo turned her head to look at him. The sky outside was heavy with dark clouds, and the light now resembled the dimness of dusk, casting his features indistinctly in the interplay of shadow and light.

“It’s fine,” she replied with a faint smile. “Since we’ve already decided to marry, the media was bound to find out eventually. This just brings it forward a bit.”

“I will handle those negative reports.”

“Thank you,” she said politely.

Then she drifted off again, seemingly lost in thought, or perhaps thinking of nothing at all.

The rain began to fall, fine threads weaving tightly across the car window glass. Her skin appeared exceptionally pale in the reflected light. Sitting beside him like this, she seemed miles and miles away.

“You…” Ouchen’s gaze darkened. Although he knew this was merely a transaction, he found himself longing to see an expression of genuine happiness and joy on her face, like that of any ordinary bride in the world.

“…will you regret it?” Yin Xiaomo was silent for a moment, then looked up to meet his eyes. “Have you regretted it?”

“No.”

“…” Her gaze flowed quietly across his face, clear as the morning sea. “There is something I feel I’ve never truly told you.”

“What is it?”

“Thank you, Ouchen.” She offered him a slight, soft smile.

“…”

“Thank you for being willing to give Xiao Cheng your kidney… These past few days, I’ve been thinking—was I too selfish? A kidney transplant is a significant risk to your body, yet I insisted you absolutely had to donate yours to Xiao Cheng. Thinking back on it, that really was excessive.”

Bubble Summer III