What Should I Do If I Time-Traveled Forty Years Later and My Lover Has Become an Old Man? - MLFYL: 07

Jiang Zhonglin put the half-washed rice in his hand, turned to look at her, “That’s right. I’m very happy.”

“Then why can’t I see it?”

He understood what Yu Yao meant and replied helplessly, “Maybe because I’m an old man. As an old man, I’ve seen a lot of things, so I’m calmer than young people.”

Yu Yao wanted to figure out what the old man in front of her was thinking, so she stood at the door and asked aggressively, “Do you still like me?”

Jiang Zhonglin has always been a man of restraint, shaped by his upbringing and environment.

From childhood, he was shy about expressing words like “like” or “love,” often struggling to voice his feelings despite the unspoken affection that shone through his eyes and actions.

Yu Yao remembers well, before their marriage, when they went out on a date, she teasingly asked if he liked her. He hesitated for an uncomfortably long moment, silent.

His gaze lingered on her, and his gestures betrayed his feelings, yet he couldn’t bring himself to say the words directly.

That morning, she posed the same question; he remained silent all day, his mind restless with doubt.

Only when they parted in the evening did he unexpectedly confess, “I like you,” leaving her stunned and unsure how to respond. It was only later, at home, that she realized his words were a subtle echo of her earlier question—delicate and tentative, like a sensitive plant trembling in the breeze.

In his youth, he was a very withdrawn person, and in his old age, he became an even more withdrawn and reserved old man.

Faced with her questions, Professor Jiang could not bear it any longer and stood by the sink for a long time, unable to utter a word.

Yu Yao approached him, “Haven’t you been waiting for me for so long? I’m back, don’t you have anything to say to me?

Actually, I didn’t wait on purpose; I just couldn’t forget you. By the time I came to my senses, I realized that so many years had passed.

Jiang Zhonglin looked at his hands, those drooping hands, and put these words into his heart.

Yu Yao, seeing that he was silent, felt a surge of anger. She stepped forward and grabbed his hand. He flinched and instinctively pulled his hand away.

She shouted at him, “What are you doing! I’m not even allowed to touch my own husband?!”

Professor Jiang thought for a moment that if he were ten years younger, she would definitely not talk to him properly and would kick him straight away.

Thinking about this, he laughed without knowing why.

“You can touch it.” He generously extended his hand and said calmly, “He’s not as handsome as when he was young; his skin is all wrinkled.”

Yu Yao grabbed his hand and touched his face with her other.

Jiang Zhonglin, unused to this kind of touch, instinctively tilted his head slightly upwards.

Yu Yao’s suppressed anger erupted again, and she continued to roar, “Why are you hiding?”

Professor Jiang silently turned his head away again. He looked down at his wife, whose appearance had remained unchanged in forty years, and his face felt slightly cold, and he fell into deep thought.

He remembered a fragment: after they got married, they took turns cooking. Usually, whoever was free would cook, and their cooking skills were similar. However, when they were both free, he usually cooked because Yu Yao would be playing games in the living room.

He didn’t like onions, but Yu Yao did. The first time he bought onions, he didn’t realize how difficult it was to chop them. The fumes made him cry, and his glasses fogged up, making it difficult to see clearly. He couldn’t wipe his hands clean, so he could only clumsily raise his arm to wipe, almost knocking his glasses off.

As a newlywed couple, he was embarrassed to ask her to help in the living room, but at that moment, Yu Yao, who was supposed to be playing games in the living room, appeared at the kitchen door.

She glanced at his disheveled face, “I smell the onions and know you weren’t paying attention. An idiot is an idiot. He doesn’t even have this little bit of life experience.”

As she spoke, she leaned over to wipe the tears from his face, and the feeling of her fingers touching his cheek was just like that.

It was as if time had flown back and the old scenes reappeared. He was still the young man who was enthusiastic about cooking for his wife and was scrambling over an onion.

But when he lowered his head slightly and let his wife’s fingers touch his cheek, his heartbeat quickened.

Yu Yao’s fingers brushed across his already white temple. His hair seemed to have turned white earlier than others. Xu Xian of the Yang family was a few years older than him, but he didn’t have as much hair as him.

She felt a slight pain in her heart. She loosened one hand, but the other hand still held his hand tightly.

She suddenly looked into his eyes seriously, “When I decided to marry you, Yang Jun didn’t think much of you because you were three years younger than me and my father didn’t agree. But I still married you. Do you know why?”

Professor Jiang had experienced many ups and downs and had been pestered by his young wife for a long time, but he quickly adapted and accepted it calmly.

He replied tactfully, “I thought it was because your father didn’t agree, so you…”

Yu Yao was caught off guard by him and choked up a little.

She had a bad relationship with her father and indeed took pleasure in opposing him in everything, but she was unhappy when Jiang Zhonglin said that.

So, she pinched Professor Jiang’s hand very rudely.

Although this was a reason, but—“That’s not the main reason.” Yu Yao pulled the corner of her mouth and changed the subject.

Professor Jiang sighed inwardly, very tolerant of the anger of young people, “I was wrong at that time.”

“I married you because you like me.”

In Yu Yao’s more than 20 years of life, she had liked many things, but never liked herself. She always felt that she had many shortcomings and nothing to like, so when she met Jiang Zhonglin and discovered his feelings for her, she was surprised and curious.

Curious about how long he could like her, she agreed to marry him.

“Do you understand what I mean?”

“…”

“What I mean is, if you don’t like me anymore, I will move out as soon as possible to save you from being upset.”

If he didn’t want her to stay now, she really would leave immediately.

Jiang Zhonglin’s fingers twitched in her grip, and after a long time, he said, “Stay.”

With a charming smile, Yu Yao remarked, “Sure, you should have mentioned that earlier; three sticks alone won’t accomplish much.”

After speaking, she gracefully crossed her arms and stepped outside.

As she reached the kitchen door, she paused, glanced back, and said softly, “I think the old man looks quite adorable now. It doesn’t feel strange to touch him anymore.”

Once she had gone, Professor Jiang turned around and resumed rinsing the rice. After a few moments, he suddenly realized he’d just been playfully teased by her.

He sighed inwardly—young people are indeed unpredictable.

Throughout his extensive teaching career, he had encountered all manner of challenging students, yet she was the only one he found difficult to read. At his age, being scolded by a young person could have been vexing, but instead, he felt a gentle amusement.

Yu Yao embodies a quiet kindness—her tenderness differs from his own; it rests beneath her seemingly casual exterior. What she had just expressed and done conveyed a simple yet profound message—“Keep me close.”

Not everyone could accept a lover who appeared suddenly aged, with no reservations, yet she had made it clear she accepted it wholeheartedly.

Her gesture was impulsive, perhaps, but that is the essence of youth—when love stirs in their hearts, they are willing to undertake anything for it.

Just two days prior, he received that pivotal call. The young staff member on the line informed him that they had found his wife.

For a fleeting moment, Jiang Zhonglin hesitated, wondering if he had misheard. The words spoken through the receiver seemed distant, muffled; he couldn’t quite grasp what was being said.

In his shock, the teacup in his hand slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor and splashing water onto his shoes.

He hesitated, then asked softly, “Did you just say…?”

The voice on the phone confirmed it once more.

When he finally heard the words, “Your wife, Yu Yao, is back,” a wave of disbelief washed over him—he couldn’t comprehend the subsequent words, so he had to ask again.

Never before had a sentence been so elusive—he understood each word individually, yet the meaning remained lost.

He had envisioned this moment countless times, yet it had never materialized until now. As he was about to surrender to despair, clarity suddenly dawned on him.

Slowly, he sank into his wet slippers, listening as the voice on the line continued, “…Please come and pick up Ms. Yu at your earliest convenience. We will send you an electronic copy of the procedures…”

After ending the call, he sat there in silence, staring blankly ahead until he felt the cold dampness touch his feet.

Rising to change his clothes, he paused before the mirror, drawn to his reflection.

Gazing at the aging man staring back at him, Jiang Zhonglin couldn’t help but wonder—how could she accept this old man with white hair?

He recognized the poignant truth behind the saying, “The closer to home, the more timid,” yet he moved swiftly to gather the person. As he reached for the door of the service center, his mind lingered with doubt—what if she couldn’t accept this truth? But then he thought, if she couldn’t, there was nothing he could do. Age had already worn him down; what more could he offer?

By that moment, he had already made peace with whatever might come, prepared to accept her choices and reactions, whatever they might be.

When he finally pushed open the door and saw Yu Yao seated there, all those thoughts vanished.

He gently took her home and watched her rest on the sofa within his house.

His heart, which had been tumultuous ever since the call, found a moment of quiet.

After all, she was safe and unharmed—nothing like the hardships he had feared. That realization brought relief.

He set aside a heavy burden that had weighed on him for four decades. His ‘heavy heart,’ which once bore the weight of sorrow, now seemed to play outside, its lively rhythm echoing through the kitchen.

The phrase ‘heavy heart’ now loses the ‘heavy,’ leaving only ‘heart’—a fragment that still gently tugs at him, a reminder that some burdens are hard to relinquish.

Jiang Zhonglin washed his hands meticulously before retrieving an onion to slice.

From her vantage point in the living room, Yu Yao caught a faint aroma of onions lingering in the air. Curiosity prompted her to rise silently, tiptoe toward the kitchen door, and peer inside.

She emitted two soft “picipici” sounds, prompting Old Jiang to turn his head in response, revealing the protective goggles perched on his forehead.

Remarkably, she thought, so now he wears goggles when chopping onions.

Quietly, she crumpled a tissue into a ball, then gracefully returned to the living room, as if nothing had occurred, and with a poised flick, tossed the tissue ball into the trash, hitting the center perfectly.

During dinner, she asked softly, “Am I still sleeping upstairs?”

“Yes,” Professor Jiang replied, seemingly unperturbed, as if unaware of the question’s deeper implication.

“…Does aging make people stubborn?” Yu Yao mused, removing her slippers from beneath the table and gently tossing them at him.

He glanced down at the overturned, fluffy grass-green slippers at his feet.

Swallowing his bite, he responded in an even-tempered tone, “Yes.”

Without hesitation, Yu Yao scooped a generous spoonful of onion for the old man across from her, who remained impervious to her words.