Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I had thought our next meeting would be at the birthday banquet, but on the morning of the Mid-Autumn Festival itself, I found Dylan Ye in our living room.

The moment he saw me, he smiled and greeted me.

I looked at him in surprise, "Why are you here? Isn't today the Mid-Autumn Festival?"

What I meant was that this was a time for family reunions, so why wasn't he at his own home celebrating instead of coming to mine?

Upon hearing this, Dylan Ye lowered his eyes and put on a look of feigned sadness.

"My dad said, 'If you can't bring your wife home, you have no right to come back for the festival.'"

As expected, it wasn't a good reason. When I heard this shameless remark, I ground my back teeth in annoyance.

But my mom gave me a sharp look, "Look at you, wearing pajamas like this—what kind of appearance is that? Hurry up and go change into something proper."

I shot my mom a resentful glance. I really couldn't understand why they were so fond of Dylan Ye.

After changing into a small dress, I sat down next to Dylan Ye reluctantly.

As my mom looked at the two of us—whom she thought were "a perfect match" and "made for each other"—her eyes welled up slightly with tears.

"You've grown up so fast in the blink of an eye. I remember you two sitting together like this more than ten years ago. Time really flies by so quickly."

When my mom said this with a sigh, I felt something was off. There was no way that had happened.

In my memories, all my childhood friends had been little heiresses from families of similar status, plus a chubby little boy who had stayed at my house for one summer vacation.

Wait a minute—could it be that Dylan Ye was that chubby little boy?

I stared at him, my face filled with disbelief. It was simply unimaginable.

Dylan Ye looked back at me, his expression saying both "You guessed it right" and "It took you long enough to figure it out."

I reached out and pinched his face, turning it left and right to get a better look. I didn't even realize how inappropriate this gesture was.

Dylan Ye just sat there quietly, letting me pull at his cheeks.

I couldn't find the slightest trace of that chubby little boy in this handsome face.

I blurted out, "Did you have plastic surgery?"

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

My dad had been frowning ever since I started pinching Dylan Ye's face, and now he finally couldn't hold back anymore and scolded me.

I forced an awkward smile, "You've changed so much—I didn't even recognize you."

He leaned close to my ear and whispered in a voice that only the two of us could hear, "Now you remember, right?"

Afraid that I would still refuse to acknowledge it and say I didn't remember, he added, "About the promise you made to marry me."