The evening breeze whispered against the windows, carrying the soft scent of spring flowers. The city outside moved with its usual rhythm, but within their quiet home, time slowed to a perfect stillness.
It was Tang Rui's 25th birthday.
The lights in the living room glowed warm and golden. Fairy lights twinkled across the walls. A small cake sat on the table, decorated with fresh strawberries and a candle shaped like a heart.
Xu Jia stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Happy birthday, Rui."
Tang Rui leaned back into his chest, smiling as she whispered, "Every year feels like a dream with you."
"I hope it never ends," he murmured, kissing the shell of her ear.
She turned in his arms, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "You always say that with the same look in your eyes. Like you know something I don't."
Xu Jia laughed quietly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Maybe I just love you more than I understand."
Their kiss came naturally—slow at first, just a meeting of lips. But it deepened quickly, mouths parting, tongues dancing. The air thickened with heat as their hands began to roam, pulling at clothes, sliding over skin.
"Bedroom," Tang Rui whispered breathlessly.
He didn't need to be told twice.
They stumbled into the bedroom, tangled in laughter and desire. The door clicked shut behind them. Clothes dropped to the floor like petals. Under the soft light, their bodies met again—not as strangers, not as lovers discovering each other for the first time, but as soulmates who had memorized every inch of the other.
Xu Jia took his time, worshipping every curve of her, lips trailing across her stomach, her thighs, her chest. Tang Rui gasped his name, fingers curling into the sheets as her back arched.
He moved inside her with a groan, filling her completely, making her whole.
Their rhythm was slow, deliberate—like music. His name fell from her lips again and again, and he whispered hers between kisses, their bodies moving in perfect sync, lost in each other.
They reached the peak together, trembling, breathless, still clinging tightly.
And as they lay there, skin against skin, Tang Rui whispered, "I want a baby."
Xu Jia blinked, startled—and then a grin stretched across his face. "Then let's hope we made one just now."
She laughed, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I think we did."
Nine months later…
Under the warm light of a hospital room, Tang Rui cradled a tiny bundle in her arms.
A little girl. Small fingers. A soft tuft of black hair. Eyes just like her father's.
Xu Jia stood beside her, eyes red with tears he didn't bother to hide. He reached out and stroked their daughter's cheek with trembling fingers.
"She's… perfect."
Tang Rui looked up at him, exhausted but glowing. "We made her together."
He leaned down and kissed both of them, one after the other. "Thank you, Rui. For giving me everything."
They named her Xu Lian—a name that meant graceful lotus, delicate yet strong. Just like her mother.
Years passed.
The house was always filled with laughter. Xu Lian learned to walk, to speak, to call her father "Baba" and her mother "Mama" with a giggle that melted hearts.
Tang Rui balanced work and motherhood with elegance. Xu Jia continued creating games—but now, bedtime stories for Lian inspired him more than any big project.
And eventually, they grew old.
Their hair turned silver, their steps slowed, but their hearts remained young. They would sit on the same balcony where they once drank coffee, now watching the stars with wrinkled hands intertwined.
On their final day, they passed away in each other's arms—smiling, fulfilled, surrounded by photos of their journey, and the sound of their daughter's laughter in the next room.
No regrets.
Only love.