What Should I Do If I Time-Traveled Forty Years Later and My Lover Has Become an Old Man? - MLFYL: 17

The slender ridges winding through the lotus field allowed passage for only one person at a time.

The two moved in a single file—Yu Yao leading gracefully, Jiang Zhonglin trailing just half a meter behind.

Without turning her head, her hhand brushed lightly against the lush lotus leaves on either side.

“Do you think young people are troublesome? Unreasonable, even annoying,” she murmured softly.

Jiang Zhonglin regarded his wife’s serene back in quiet reflection.

“No,” he replied gently. “It’s my fault.”

Memories surfaced—how, in his youth, similar frustrations had troubled him, yet he lacked Yu Yao’s courage and candor. He had hesitated to speak, fearing her anger or mockery.

Back then, many admired her—an ex-boyfriend, close male friends. He remembered feeling uneasy whenever he saw her laughing and talking with others during outings. Though he knew their relationship was innocent, the sting of jealousy was irrational and overwhelming.

Although he did not express any dissatisfaction outwardly, and Yu Yao remained unaware of his inner feelings at the moment, it was only after they arrived home that she gently pressed him onto the sofa, sat opposite him, and with a warm smile said, “My champion friend, you’ve successfully married me—you’re truly a winner in life. Be happy.”

Listening to her words, he found himself unexpectedly laughing, as if a subtle, skillful touch had gently erased the small shadow of unhappiness lingering in his heart.

Yu Yao possessed a remarkable sensitivity; as soon as she sensed his mood, she effortlessly and gracefully alleviated his burden. At that time, after experiencing a fleeting moment of joy, he felt a strange sense of melancholy, realizing how unlike himself he was and that he sought her comfort to soothe his spirit.

Being three years younger than her, he was still young and somewhat naive, a fact that filled him with a tinge of shame. In his youthful innocence, he longed for maturity—perhaps as a way to prove himself or to safeguard what mattered most.

By the age of thirty, he had achieved independence and stood firmly on his own.

Throughout his thirties, he was entirely swept away by poverty and hardship, yet by forty, clarity replaced confusion. His wandering existence had settled into a steady, resilient foundation—robust, unwavering, and composed.

At fifty, he embraced his destiny with acceptance, recognizing the futility of forcing circumstances and understanding the natural flow of life.

Now, at sixty, he remains unshaken in the face of adversity, his wisdom and cultivation reaching a pinnacle of grace. Yet, despite this maturity, he still finds himself unable to soothe Yu Yao’s profound yet delicate disquiet.

Casting his gaze back into his sixties, he realizes with gentle regret that the simple wish he held in his twenties remains unfulfilled, a silent testament to the enduring complexity of his journey.

Yu Yao continued her walk, yet she could no longer hear the faint sound of footsteps behind her.

She cautiously turned her head, and there, she saw Jiang Zhonglin standing silently, gazing at her with a gentle expression.

A hint of sadness shimmered in his eyes, and in that moment, her heart softened unexpectedly.

She pondered what might be troubling this man—how, in his youth, his eyes had been remarkably expressive and charming, and now, even in his old age, they seemed to hold a quiet depth that was even more poignant. Her feelings grew tender as she looked at him.

Reluctantly, she turned back and gently took his hand, “Forget it. I won’t argue with you.”

Jiang Zhonglin seldom initiated such closeness, but this time, he reached out and tenderly brushed his fingers through her hair, his gaze filled with warmth and sincerity.

“I truly want you to be happy,” he whispered.

For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she felt a sting in her nose, and she quickly turned her face away, fighting back the surge of emotion threatening to overwhelm her.

At that moment, a sudden splash of water fell.

Someone pushed aside the heavy lotus leaves in the lotus field, and a man stepped out carrying a basket on his back.

The people in the farm were picking lotus pods. The lotus pods in the basket had long, green, slender stems and were tied into bundles.

The man saw Yu Yao and Jiang Zhonglin standing at the edge of the field and knew they were guests at the farm.

He excitedly took some lotus pods out of the basket and offered them to eat, “These are fresh lotus pods, sweet in taste, and the lotus seeds inside these tender pods aren’t bitter. No need to peel them. They’re delicious when eaten straight away.”

The lotus seedpod harvesters explained that the lotus flowers, leaves, seedpods, and roots cultivated in their fields would not only be sold out but also supplied directly to the farm. They further introduced other features of the estate, including fish ponds, several orchards, and notably, two strawberry greenhouses—whose ripe, edible berries were just in season.

Yu Yao was uplifted by his words and eagerly asked, “May we go pick some?”

The man chuckled and replied, “Certainly. One of the greenhouses is open to visitors, where you’re welcome to pick and enjoy the strawberries, but please do not waste them.”

Gratefully, she followed his directions and guided Jiang Zhonglin out of the lotus field.

Before long, they arrived at two adjacent greenhouses—one with its door closed and the other standing open—its transparent roof resembling glass, inviting them to explore its bounty.

Beyond the shed, a middle-aged woman stood vigilantly, seemingly absorbed in her television dramas.

Suddenly, a heartrending cry echoed from her personal terminal, “You’re only with me for my money!”

Almost simultaneously, a man’s voice, tinged with anger, retorted, “And what about you? Are you with me solely for my looks and figure?”

Yu Yao glanced at the screen of her device.

Recognizing their presence, the woman quickly looked up, her eyes shifting to a small basket beside her.

She gestured politely, “Each person may select a basket free of charge. Additional baskets will incur a fee.”

With that, she resumed her watching.

Yu Yao took two small baskets, passing one to Jiang Zhonglin, and together they entered the expansive shed.

Inside, a delightful aroma of strawberries filled the air. Their eyes fell upon orderly rows of three-tiered shelves, each laden with ripe, vibrant red strawberries—each fruit plump and inviting.

She found the strawberry-picking experience most delightful. There was a certain comfort in selecting the ripe, vibrant berries with her own hands, surpassing the simple pleasure of tasting them. She carefully chose those that exhibited a perfect hue and inviting appearance.

Upon noticing Jiang Zhonglin had only managed to pick two, a subtle dissatisfaction flickered in her expression.

With gentle care, she washed the strawberries and playfully placed them into his mouth, encouraging him to enjoy them himself, “Let me pick, and you hold this.”

Jiang Zhonglin, initially apprehensive that she might still be displeased, was reassured by her evident enthusiasm.

Seeing her interest, he willingly carried the basket beside her, silently observing her selections. By the time they reached the midpoint of the greenhouse, their small baskets were already brimming with fruit.

Yet, Yu Yao’s gaze shifted, and her curiosity was piqued by the sight of the second half of the greenhouse—an expanse of milky-white strawberries, their aroma delicate and sweet, reminiscent of strawberry milk, beckoning her to discover their unique charm.

She sampled one and was immediately struck by its exquisite flavor.

Glancing at the two baskets already filled to capacity, she couldn’t help but think that the arrangement felt somewhat calculated. It was only upon venturing to the back of the shed that she discovered an even greater abundance of pristine strawberries.

There, thoughtfully arranged in smaller baskets specifically designed for visitors like herself, the bounty was truly impressive.

Jiang Zhonglin silently offered her two additional empty baskets, which she gladly accepted to gather more white strawberries.

With their small baskets in hand, she and Jiang Zhonglin departed from the strawberry shed. Along the way, they encountered fellow members of the association, who, noticing their baskets, eagerly inquired about the source of their harvest. Upon learning the location, everyone eagerly set off to pick strawberries themselves, inspired by the generous display before them.

At midday, Yu Yao hadn’t eaten much and now found herself feeling a gentle pang of hunger. She gently washed the ripe strawberries and settled onto a broad rock near the tranquil lotus pond to enjoy them.

As some young members of the association strolled past, they caught sight of her and Jiang Zhonglin.

She overheard a young girl behind her whispering excitedly, her voice deliberately lowered, “Look! Mr. Jiang is actually eating strawberries with his wife!”

She merely smiled inwardly—after all, they were simply sharing strawberries, not tending a garden. Was there really cause for such astonishment?

Noticing that she had already consumed quite a few berries, Jiang Zhonglin gently urged her to stop, “That’s enough. You can finish the rest tonight. If you’re still hungry, why not go to the small restaurant over there and ask the owner for a bowl of noodles?”

She nodded in agreement and helped him to his feet.

From behind, the young girls whispered in awe, “Ah, they’re holding hands!”

Yu Yao couldn’t help but smile to herself—it’s just holding hands, young ones.

Seated at a rustic farm restaurant, savoring a bowl of noodles, she was joined unexpectedly by Jiang Zhonglin, who took a place beside her.

With gentle warmth, she offered him some of her meal, using a small bowl to serve him slightly more than half of the noodles.

Observers passing nearby, including several members of their association, caught sight of this intimate gesture and murmured with admiration, “Mr. Jiang and his wife share such a wonderful bond.”

Unaware of the whispers, Yu Yao was puzzled by the loudness of their hushed voices, which seemed to be audible even to her, the intended listener. Yet, witnessing Jiang Zhonglin calmly eating without reaction, she wondered if her ears had somehow become overly sharp, or if he simply hadn’t heard.

All appeared normal until, after dinner, as they headed to the mountain spring sanatorium for a bath, she and Jiang Zhonglin parted ways.

Almost immediately, she found herself surrounded by a crowd, eager to engage with her.

Within the tranquil confines of the women’s bathhouse, a space predominantly occupied by family members and students accompanied by association members, an air of quiet curiosity prevailed. Some of the younger women, emboldened by their peers, approached her with increasing confidence.

One youthful student, having scrutinized her features with keen interest, ventured to inquire, “Mr. Jiang’s wife, did you truly travel through time for forty years?”

Yu Yao responded with a gentle smile, “Yes, I did.”

Her warm demeanor encouraged others to shed their reservations, prompting a flurry of questions.

“Was Mr. Jiang particularly handsome in his youth?”

“How did you and Mr. Jiang come to be together back then?”

“What was life like forty years ago?”

“What does it feel like to travel through time? Did you get dizzy? Does it feel like you’re venturing across the universe?”

Unable to answer every query, Yu Yao relaxed into the soothing warmth of the spring water, selecting a few questions to address thoughtfully.

“Forty years ago, you can read about it in history books. Things were pretty different back then, not as easy as they are now. The older folks definitely knew what it was like.”

“Time travel happens in a flash—it’s over in just a blink.”

“Jiang Zhonglin was pretty good-looking back in the day.”

“How did I come to find myself with him? Our paths crossed unexpectedly, on a blind date…”

The young women listening gasped in wonder at this old-fashioned approach to courtship, eager for her to share more.

In truth, the story is somewhat more intricate.

Yu Yao had known Jiang Zhonglin for quite some time, and she had always believed their first meeting was at that blind date. It wasn’t until Jiang Zhonglin later mentioned their junior high school days—after their marriage—that she realized the blind date at age twenty-six was actually their second encounter.

He explained that he recognized her immediately upon seeing her again, because the first impression he had of her was unforgettable.

Initially, the blind date was arranged for Yu Yao’s best friend, Yang Yun, with Jiang Zhonglin’s cousin. However, when Yang Yun was unable to attend due to prior commitments and lacked interest in the meeting, Yu Yao graciously stepped in to serve as her substitute.

Coincidentally, Jiang Zhonglin’s cousin was a dedicated workaholic, caught up in an urgent overtime meeting, and unable to attend as well. Out of courtesy, he entrusted his cousin Jiang Zhonglin to stand in for him.

As a result, the intended pair never met, yet their friends and family, present at the event, inadvertently set the stage for their union. Remarkably, what was meant to be a simple arrangement blossomed unexpectedly into a genuine connection, leading them to become a couple without any initial expectation or design.

After enduring the exuberant chatter of young girls and exchanging a few courteous words with several elderly ladies, Yu Yao swiftly rose from the bath and took her leave.

His words proved wise; indeed, she was soon encircled by companions, and she found greater solace in Jiang Zhonglin’s company.

Stepping out of the Mountain Spring Sanatorium, she settled onto a small bridge spanning the tranquil water in front of the establishment, allowing the gentle breeze to soothe her spirit.

There, seated on a nearby bench, was an elderly woman with gracefully white hair. Her demeanor exuded refinement and poise, suggestive of someone who had immersed herself in the arts and literature in her youth, manifesting an air of elegance and serenity.

The old lady turned her gaze toward her, offering a subtle, knowing smile, “Would you care to walk with me?”

Yu Yao initially thought it was someone from the club, but upon closer inspection, she seemed unfamiliar, as if she hadn’t seen her before.

“Who are you?” she asked doubtfully.

The old lady smiled kindly, “My name is Cao Qingling.”