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墨書 Inktalez
Liu Xiuzhen asked her, "Beautiful, it's so cold outside, what are you doing out there?"
She stuck out her tongue at Liu Xiuzhen, tilted her little face, and huffed! I'm not telling you! That's her secret. As long as her home was livelier than usual, she was satisfied. She began to bounce around the yard and inside the house, humming a little tune that Old Lady Liu had taught her, wearing a red jacket, jumping like happy notes.
Rarely, Xu Wen didn't rush to leave after dinner as he usually did; instead, he chatted with Qing Shusheng about everything under the sun. Perhaps it was due to having a bit to drink, their conversation grew more animated, and before they knew it, it was already dark outside with no one in sight, yet he still showed no intention of leaving.
No one seemed to notice this, or perhaps they deliberately chose not to; in any case, no one reminded him that it was getting late. Liu Xiuzhen also didn't remind him to wash up as she usually did. Based on past experiences, Liu Xiuzhen knew that if she reminded him, it would mean he remembered he needed to go back to the dormitory. So she busied herself as if she had forgotten his existence.
However, one person did not forget about this matter. She walked up to Xu Wen, tilted her head, and asked cheerfully, "Uncle Xu, are you not going back to sleep tonight?"
Qing Shusheng, who was deep in conversation, paused for a moment, while Liu Xiuzhen in the kitchen perked up her ears to listen.
"Uncle Xu drank tonight and can't go back," Xu Wen said while touching her little face and smiling.
"Oh oh oh. Uncle Xu isn't going back tonight; you can play with me!" Qingmei clapped her hands and jumped on one foot excitedly.
After hearing Xu Wen's words, Qing Shusheng quickly added, "Since you've been drinking, you can't drive. Walking back is too far; just stay here tonight." He worried that Xu Wen's words were just a joke meant to tease Qingmei.
"Auntie, I'm not going back tonight; please help me make the bed later," Xu Wen shouted towards Liu Xiuzhen in the kitchen.
"Okay!" Liu Xiuzhen happily replied from the kitchen.
While they were chatting, Qinglan walked out of the yard holding some items in one hand and a flashlight in the other.
Qingmei shouted from behind, "Mama, where are you going?"
"I'm going to check on the fields after being away for a few days," Qinglan replied.
As soon as she finished speaking, Xu Wen stood up, leaving his conversation unfinished, and ran out of the courtyard. "Wait for me," he called back to Qing Shusheng. "I'm going with her."
Qing Shusheng nodded and waved his hand, saying, "Go ahead."
Hearing footsteps behind her, Qinglan didn't turn around but said, "What are you following me for?"
Xu Wen caught up a step and walked alongside her. He didn't answer her question; instead, he lightly scolded her, "It's so late to be out without saying a word."
Whether it was due to having drunk some alcohol or the darkness making it hard to see, he swayed close to her, almost leaning against her shoulder.
Qinglan's heart suddenly raced.
It had been a long time since she had walked this closely with any man. She felt flustered and stumbled over her words, "I... I saw you talking with Father... I wasn't... alone either..."
As she spoke, a sudden pang of sadness hit her.
Yes, in the past, no matter how late it was, he would accompany her to the fields. After she sent him back to the company dormitory, she would go alone at night. A few times, walking alone in the dark night with the cold wind blowing, she felt both scared and cold. She remembered how he used to be by her side; even if they didn't talk much, she never felt cold or afraid. Unexpectedly, at that moment, her nose tingled with tears. She resented herself for putting herself through this and for making him suffer too.
She knew well how good he was to her. If during college his kindness was something she couldn't quite grasp, then after all these years—him coming here from Beijing, abandoning a prosperous life to endure hardship here—if that still left her uncertain, then she must be a fool. She didn't understand why she had to be so stubborn and obstinate. He was right in front of her; a beautiful love and life were within reach, yet she refused to accept it, just like back then.
If she had accepted his words back then, her life wouldn't be like this now. She still does not accept him; what kind of life awaits her in the future? Was it a mistake back then, and does she have to continue making mistakes?
It's not too late to accept him now; she can still return to that outcome from years ago. Whether he stays here or takes her to Beijing, she can predict what kind of life awaits her afterward, and it won't be worse than what she has now.
Over the years, she has cried too much in secret. She thought that in the future, no sorrow would make her cry or shed tears.
However, unexpectedly, after experiencing so much, in front of him, as long as he gently speaks, a warm reproach can still make her want to cry, causing her tears to well up in her eyes.
She lowered her head, slowing her steps. In the darkness, he suddenly grabbed her hand; the familiar scent mixed with a hint of alcohol stimulated her sensitive sense of smell and cells, making her heart tremble violently.
He pressed his lips together, wanting to speak but ultimately did not say anything.
She did not know that after he moved away, during those nights when she went out, he also went out; when she returned, he quietly followed behind her.
She did not know that after he moved to the dormitory, Qingmei used Little Ones's phone almost every day to contact him, asking when he would come back for meals and sleep, reporting on Mama's whereabouts.
So when he heard her words, he was momentarily moved and couldn't help but grab her hand. He wanted to tell her that he had always been by her side, but in the end, he didn't say anything; he just held her hand tightly.
It had been many years since she felt this way; it had been so long since she felt love! Yes, after all, she was still so young and in the prime of youth. Love had been parched for a long time; she craved love and yearned for that feeling that made her heart race violently. Her heart was not stagnant water; it was a clear lake. Just a gentle breeze could ripple the surface and create waves. When they were together before, he had never held her hand, but occasionally when they walked closely side by side, his hand would brush against hers. Or when crossing the street, his hand would unconsciously grab hers. Even just a touch would make their hearts race; he would instinctively pull his hand back as if shocked. It wasn't a passionate entanglement but rather a shy and subtle thrill that connected their hearts like a delicate thread—pulling and releasing, creating waves of soft sweetness.
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