‘SEE YOU MORNING’ 028 Daily Routine

‘SEE YOU MORNING’ 028 Daily Routine

On a half-evening of a rest day, Li Haojun and Qin Wenjing took a walk along the pathway in the backyard after dinner. The evening breeze grew cooler; Qin Wenjing wore an apricot-yellow batwing long-fleece sweater atop, and tight dark-blue jeans below. Li Haojun walked beside her, his left hand resting on her hip, holding close the lower edge of her sweater.
This little path—how many times had they walked it under the sunset glow? Yet it never felt dull or tedious. Glancing over, on the other side was the porch entrance to the underground solar farm. It had been so long since Li Haojun last went there; he vaguely felt that if he spared even a bit of leisure to devote himself to that place, work would arrange for him to leave on a business trip, away from Qin Wenjing. To spend more time with the one he cared about, he chose to prioritize coming back to the person before him.
The sun had already sunk below the horizon; only the lingering light at the edge of the sky remained, casting a muted red across the fields through the silhouettes of tree branches. Beneath the deep, still night sky, the cold wind swept past, bringing with it a trace of desolation.
Li Haojun turned his head—fortunately, he had his beloved by his side. Her hair and the outline of her sweater’s fleece were dyed the same hue as the clouds at the horizon. Just then, Qin Wenjing also turned to look at Li Haojun. After a sweet mutual gaze, Li Hjaojun, still holding her, clasped her fingertips in both hands and said,
“It’s getting chilly—let’s head back.”
“Mm.”
Night had fallen. Qin Wenjing and Li Haojun lay sideways on the bedroom bed, lights off, curtains undrawn. Facing the starlit night outside the window, Li Haojun lay behind her, arm around her waist, watching the moonlight illuminate her cheeks and hair.
“If one day I forget you, will you leave me?” Qin Wenjing asked softly, eyes still on the window.
“No. Why do you say that?”
“Nothing—just asking.”
“Did something happen?” Li Haojun pressed urgently.
“No,” Qin Wenjing replied without turning, still facing the window, lips curving into a small smile. Afraid he might worry, she quickly added,
“With technology nowadays, lifespans are much longer. It’s just that accidents happen sometimes—like what happened to you. I was just curious—if it happened to me, what would you be like?”
“Oh, I’d take care of you all the same—only I’m afraid you wouldn’t want me to,” Li Haojun said, propping himself up slightly to look down at her profile, gently brushing aside the hair by her temple.
“Why wouldn’t I want that?” Qin Wenjing countered, unable to suppress a smile as she leaned closer into his arms.
“Who knows—maybe you’d think I’m old, or not handsome enough. Who knows what you’d think then?”
“Do you have so little confidence in yourself?” Qin Wenjing finally turned to face him, teasing as she looked at him.
“It’s not about confidence—it’s about objective reality,” Li Haojun’s tone grew a little anxious.
“O-kay,” Qin Wenjing replied, taking his hand from her waist and stroking it gently.
“In romantic relationships, it’s always women who choose men—that’s how it is between ordinary men and women. Unless the man holds power, wealth, or reverts to primal jungle law and uses violence,” Li Haojun explained earnestly.
“Mm, I know. I don’t think I’ll lose my memory—why are you so worked up?” Qin Wenjing said with pretend annoyance, acting coquettish.
Only then did Li Haojun realize Qin Wenjing had been testing him—and here he was, earnestly explaining logic instead of catching her drift. He couldn’t help but find himself a little funny. Yet looking at Qin Wenjing’s sweet smile, he felt it was worth being teased.
In the peaceful, tranquil air, Li Haojun’s left arm encircled Qin Wenjing’s waist, his right supporting her shoulder and neck. She turned back to him with a smile—what a perfect world for two.
Suddenly, a notification chime sounded from the living room. Qin Wenjing pursed her lips and teased,
“Hmph, go on then—your little sweetheart is calling you.”
“Let her wait,” Li Haojun muttered. It was probably Malaya sending tomorrow’s work schedule—but how could he let another woman intrude at a time like this? This was precisely the moment to prove his devotion.
With that, Li Haojun leaned down, following the curve of Qin Wenjing’s earlobe and neck, kissing her lips. His left arm cushioned her back as she lay flat, his left hand holding her waist as she lay on her side, his left leg arched against hers, his right leg pressing over hers. In full physical closeness, he naturally entered her body—only it was somewhat sudden, and Qin Wenjing couldn’t help but let out a soft “mm.”
Amid the intermittent chimes, Li Haojun sank deeper into Qin Wenjing again and again, each time feeling closer to her. Yet even in such intimacy, Qin Wenjing seemed unsatisfied—she wanted more of him. Her right hand stroked his strong arm; her left tried to grip his pressing thigh. And she wanted his kisses.
Each of Li Haojun’s penetrations felt like an intimate visitation, and Qin Wenjing tried to hold onto each encounter with her love—sometimes warm and tender, sometimes firm and direct. As Li Haojun continued his deep exchanges with her, Qin Wenjing could no longer accept his kisses; she could only turn her head aside, gasping, gripping his arm more tightly.
In the night, Li Haojun admired his woman—her familiar face, her hair swaying with the movement of her body, her skin, her warmth, her jade-like form and breath…
It was a night of deep, fulfilling sleep. The cheerful song of morning birds outside the window woke the sleeping lovers.
“It’s late—we overslept. You have work today,” Qin Wenjing said softly, gazing at her man with a smile.
“It’s fine—as long as you’re happy.”
Qin Wenjing smiled faintly, said nothing, and simply held Li Haojun’s hand.
Just then, from the living room and beyond the courtyard wall came the sound of a sky taxi landing, together with the chime from the living room. Li Haojun grinned, kissed Qin Wenjing’s lips, dressed, and left.
On a bright, sunny morning, in high spirits, Li Haojun slid one arm into his shirt sleeve and stepped out the porch in a few strides. At the courtyard gate, he glanced left and right, crossed the road, pulled open the rear door of the sky taxi, and got in. Only then did he notice Kesiya sitting in the back seat as well. He glanced at the front seat—empty.
“Good morning, Kesiya. Didn’t Malaya come along?”
“Oh, she’s not coming this time,” she said, lowering her head without looking at Li Haojun—but she couldn’t hide it from the tender-hearted Li Haojun.
“What’s she busy with? Why didn’t she come?” Li Haojun asked, leaning down to look into her eyes.
She didn’t lift her head, nor meet his gaze. Li Haojun noticed her eyes were somewhat red, with traces of dried tears at the corners. Seeing her not answer, he didn’t press further. But in such a state—how could she work? So Li Haojun secretly messaged Malaya, asking what was wrong with her sister. Unexpectedly, the usually cheerful Malaya replied with a cold sentence: “Ask my sister. Don’t ask me.”
So the sisters must have had a fight. Such a harmonious pair—who knew they quarreled too. Li Haojun asked softly,
“Had a fight with your sister?” He studied her profile.
“Mm,” Kesiya answered, expressionless.
“Want to talk about it? Maybe I can give you some advice,” he asked, looking at Kesiya again.
She said nothing, head bowed—perhaps thinking.
“We had a small argument this morning,” Kesiya said quietly.
Li Haojun had wanted to laugh out loud—a small argument left her like this? But then he remembered Kesiya’s gentle, mild nature—perhaps her heart was fragile too. He softened his tone and said quietly,
“A small argument? A small argument made you cry like this? What happened? Maybe I can help you figure it out.”
“Mm, we just had a disagreement,” she said, hesitating, reluctant to reveal too much. Li Haojun didn’t press, and simply agreed,
“It’s okay—it’ll pass. Time smooths everything over. Besides, life’s bound to have little bumps now and then.” He watched her expression.
“Mm,” she responded, perhaps only out of politeness.
Li Haojun took out his terminal to check the work schedule. Sure enough, it was all routine: George and Ellensburg factories needed to sign for a batch of raw materials and supplies, plus some regular inspections. Simple tasks.
The morning had started bright and sunny, but the weather turned gradually overcast during the flight, dampening the mood. Fortunately, George wasn’t far—they arrived soon. Li Haojun pushed open the cabin door, intending to step down first and then help Kesiya down. Though young and steady on her feet, courtesy demanded it. But just as he pushed the door open with his left hand and extended his left leg to step down, his right arm was suddenly tugged. He turned—it was Kesiya holding his arm. Their eyes met. Li Haojun knew something was about to happen.
Kesiya hesitated, then said,
“I… I like you.”
Li Haojun froze for a moment, his mind racing through possibilities. Was she serious? She should be—she was usually so composed. Why? Since waking from that setback, good things kept happening—was pie falling from the sky? Could this world I’m in be fake?
After only a brief pause, Li Haojun caught her hand and said,
“Come, let’s talk down here.” He led her down to the ground, then walked toward the factory, watching her expression—but Kesiya only followed, head lowered.
Away from the road, standing opposite Kesiya, Li Haojun placed his hands on her shoulders and asked,
“Do you think you know me?”
Kesiya looked up, meeting his gaze.
“I know you.”
“We’ve only just met. And I’m so much older than you. I don’t even fully understand myself. Why not choose someone your own age?”
“I think they’re childish. That’s why I came to this company.”
“Then how did you find your way here, to me?”
“Instinct.”
“Oh, that’s quite something,” Li Haojun marveled, looking into her eyes. Kesiya did not avoid his gaze. Inside, Li Haojun was astonished—just last night he had been intimate with Qin Wenjing, and this morning a young girl confessed to him.
As he wondered, he noticed Kesiya glance slightly away, then look back at him.
“What are you thinking? Is it her?” Kesiya asked.
Li Haojun didn’t answer. How could he mention last night’s intimacy to an outsider?
“Now you know I understand you, right? I can feel it.”
“You can feel what I’m thinking?”
“No—I can only roughly sense your feelings.”
“Oh.” Li Haojun knew some people had abilities beyond ordinary perception, but he hadn’t expected such a person to appear beside him. Then he reflected—perhaps there was simply too much he didn’t know.
“Can you sense others like that too?” Li Haojun asked curiously.
“Not necessarily. It varies from person to person.”
Listening to her explanation, Li Haojun felt a trace of doubt. Was what she said true? Or what was her real experience like? His curiosity stirred again. As he pondered, he saw Kesiya looking at him—then she suddenly laughed. Was he already transparent to her? He asked,
“You can sense my feelings, and your own—do the two ever interfere?”
“No, I can tell them apart.”
“Oh.” With that, Li Haojun took her hand and walked toward the office.
Kesiya stopped, pulling him back.
“You haven’t answered me—do you like me?”
“Mm, yes—you’re a wonderful girl.” Li Haojun couldn’t refuse, or give an ambiguous answer. He wouldn’t act against his heart, nor put on a false front.
All morning, Li Haojun accompanied Kesiya through the entire material-receiving process, letting her familiarize herself with routine operations. Also, after the morning’s events, he worried she might be distracted and cause a safety incident.
The morning passed quickly. Over lunch, chatting as they ate, Li Haojun couldn’t suppress his curiosity.
“Tell me—besides sensing my current mood or thoughts, can you receive certain information across time? Like the past, or the future?”
“Mm, sort of. Some things, yes.”
“For example? Can you give one?”
“Like how I came here. I can sense some possibilities about my own future. For others, I can only sense the near past or near future—and it’s unstable, comes and goes.”
“Oh, I see. Then how do you predict your own future? How exactly does it work? Can you tell me?”
“Dreams.”
“Hahaha.”
“Some appear in dreams. Sometimes, with concentration, it happens too.”
“Oh, I see. Then do you know what will happen between you and me in the future?”
“Mm, not certain—it depends on the choices you and I make.”
“Mm, that makes sense. If I may ask—are you human?”
“Biologically, yes. It’s just that my perception is sharper in certain ways.”
“So you can sense my thoughts all the time?”
“Actually, no. Only sometimes. Or in certain situations.”
“Oh, good—so I’m not transparent every second.”
“Mm, haha.”…
After finishing the George factory task in the morning, they took the pre-booked taxi to Ellensburg as planned. The afternoon task was also to receive supplies, then return home. However, the scheduled freight did not arrive as promised. Soon, the trucking company sent live footage—the trucks were blocked in Othello, where people were protesting.
Li Haojun switched between several video feeds, understanding their demands: Category C and D residents were dissatisfied with their classifications or the rights associated with them. After watching for a while, Li Haojun murmured to himself,
“Peaceful protest would be fine—but blocking traffic isn’t. There will be consequences.”
“What kind of consequences?” Kesiya asked, watching beside him.
“I don’t know. But adults must take responsibility for their actions. Disrupting social order carries consequences.”
“I’ll look it up,” Kesiya said, searching as she spoke.
“Category D residents might be deported to the Free Zone. Category C might be downgraded to D. Actually, they should apply for re-evaluation or challenge the assessment rules—but they chose the simplest, crudest way.”
“Mm, heaven helps those who help themselves. Sometimes, when people won’t raise their own awareness, no one else can help them. Look—in some videos, you can see police drones gathering scene data. Very likely, all participants have already been identified.” With that, Li Haojun suddenly thought to ask,
“Can you foresee any outcomes?”
“No,” Kesiya smiled faintly, then added,
“I’m not a god, or a time machine. I just sometimes see things about myself.” She paused, then continued,
“And people I care about.” Her gaze fixed intently on Li Haojun.
Li Haojun understood her meaning, of course. He couldn’t grow too close, yet he couldn’t hurt this girl either. A difficult choice.
Clearly, Kesiya understood his position too—she didn’t press aggressively. But the afternoon truck never arrived, and their return transport was canceled by Malaya, rescheduled for dinner instead.
In the restaurant, the southern windows showed the darkening sky. Looking at the lavish food, Li Haojun asked Kesiya,
“Look—so much delicious food. Still angry with your sister?”
“No. Actually, this morning, she was more angry with me.”
“Oh, I see. Then you…” Li Haojun stopped mid-question, swallowing the rest.
“Hmph.” Kesiya let out a cold laugh. Li Haojun had never seen her so distant. He felt a pang of discomfort, blaming himself for neglecting the girl.
“Tell me—before you came here, were the images you saw the same as the real me?”
Finally, Li Haojun saw a trace of a smile at the corner of Kesiya’s lips.
“Some were the same, some weren’t. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is—in this timeline, how you treat me.” She looked up at Li Haojun.
“Are these the gears of fate?” Li Haojun asked, expression grave.
“Mm. Where aren’t they?”
“Where?” Li Haojun paused.
“Is it a past life? Otherwise, how could I dare accept such unearned affection from a girl?”
“Maybe. I’m not entirely sure. Just a feeling—I sensed you, and was drawn here.”
Hearing this, Li Haojun reached out and stroked the back of her hand resting on the table. Any less would have been too hurtful.
Kesiya looked at her hand, then up at Li Haojun, expressionless. Compared to the timid, hesitant newcomer who used to ask questions shyly, she was a different person now. Such a determined gaze—Li Haojun couldn’t help but ask,
“Before you came, did you know about my relationship with Qin Wenjing?”
“Mm, I knew.”
“Then…” Li Haojun hesitated. How to say it? Ask her, “Then why did you come?” He couldn’t say it like that.
“Actually, there are many things I cannot choose. It was simply this time, this place—I came here,” Kesiya answered evenly.
“Then do you remember things between us from before?”
“No. I only felt the urge to come here.”
Hearing this, Li Haojun gently held her hand. How could he fail such devotion from fate?
Kesiya used the pad of her exposed thumb to softly rub his fingers, then lifted her eyes to him—her gaze much gentler now.
A wholehearted dinner, from dusk to deep night. Outside the window, the distant mountain shape was faintly visible. The night was heavy, starless. Only the dark water below surged and rolled in the darkness, slapping against rocks. The lounge was unlit, letting the soft night pour in through the window.
Standing together by the window, Li Haojun lightly circled Kesiya’s waist.
“Does being treated like this suit you?”
Kesiya leaned closer against him.
“What more could I ask for?” She looked up at Li Haojun.
Gazing at the sky, he held her tighter. Tonight there were no stars—no knowing where they wandered tonight, or what fate awaited them. Like the two souls sharing the night, unaware of their past or future, yet still choosing to meet here.
“It’s late—let’s rest,” Li Haojun said, giving her a gentle squeeze.
“Alright. Stay with me—like that time you stayed with Malaya.”
At the mention of Malaya, Li Haojun wondered—had that quirky girl deliberately stayed away today? On the lounge sofa, Kesiya lay on her side next to him. Li Haojun didn’t know what twist of fate had brought her to his side.
“What are you thinking?” Kesiya asked softly beside him.
“I’m curious—why have so many good things fallen into my lap?”
“Then which ones do you consider good?”
“Qin Wenjing’s loyal companionship, until I woke from that setback. Now your favoritism too. And decent work with good pay—all so easily obtained,” Li Haojun counted them off.
“Don’t you think you deserve these? Because you forgot your past, you don’t realize these are your rewards,” Kesiya countered.
“No, I’m not that willful, or greedy.”
“Then do you know why you’re not that willful?” Kesiya pressed.
“I don’t know.”
“It was your own choice,” Kesiya stated with certainty.
“Oh, that makes sense. But I’m curious about what you mentioned earlier—things I don’t know. Do you know more? Can you tell me some?”
“Do you want to know?”
“Mm.” Li Haojun turned to look into Kesiya’s eyes.
Kesiya placed her hand on his chest, undid a button, and slowly slipped her hand inside, pressing against the spot where his heartbeat was. Then she closed her eyes, gathering her focus. After a while, she said softly,
“You’ve been with her for a very long time. You appeared in every period of her life. You’ve worked for this company for a very long time too. The reason they hired you is because you are dutiful, reliable, and your behavior is predictable—not easily influenced by external factors. Simply put, you have provided them with long-term stable work.”
“They? Who are ‘they’?” Li Haojun was curious—he had always received remote instructions, at most via video, never direct contact.
“I can’t see clearly either. Just a feeling.”
“Can you tell me more about things between you and me?” he asked, tightening his arm around her shoulder, then letting his hand rest on her waist, stroking gently—wanting to give her more love, within the range of limited possibilities.
“I’m sorry, I can’t see.”
“It’s alright.” Li Haojun lightly kissed Kesiya’s cheek, hoping she felt he truly didn’t mind that she couldn’t speak of their past or future. He cared more about the present—because he only had the present.
“I’m still curious—which part of me do you actually like? Now you see the real me—my looks, I don’t think they’re worth such youthful devotion from you. Wealth? I have none. Power? None. My character? Which part is it?”
“Alright, I’ll explain it this way: kindness, loyalty—these are your qualities. Of course, some people in this world will take advantage of that. Others will appreciate it.”
“Alright. Thank you for appreciating me.”
The night was deep. The faint light through the window only outlined the shape of Kesiya’s cheek. Li Haojun turned onto his side, his other arm around her back. He didn’t know why she had come—but he didn’t want to hurt any beautiful encounter.
Kesiya no longer faced Li Haojun. She said nothing, burying her head in the crook of his arm. The two breathed each other’s breath, slowly growing familiar…
On the return journey, the gloom gradually dispersed. The golden afternoon sunlight shone once more upon the land. Sitting in the sky taxi, Li Haojun looked back toward George and Ellensburg. The peaks there stretched before the clear sky—where Kesiya’s shy face had confessed, where her figure had moved back and forth before him at work, where her gentle embrace had warmed the night.