Years later, Zhuge Yun, who had become China's foremost diplomat, retired with honor. He refused the state's plea to extend his tenure, resolutely leaving the diplomatic profession he so dearly loved.
His wife had been with him, wandering from country to country over the years—how much he owed her. After retirement, he intended to spend quality time with her, enjoying the flowers and the moonlight together.
Looking at the silver hair on his head, then at Qiqi, also silver-haired, how swiftly time had flown! In the blink of an eye, they had aged, even had grandchildren.
Zhuge Yun sat on the rattan chair in the yard, in the house he had purchased before their marriage. Although their son had bought a villa and suggested they move, he did not want to, and neither did Qiqi. This was their shared home, filled with too many beautiful memories; how could he and Qiqi bear to leave it?
