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墨書 Inktalez
"Everyone has their own story," he said, focusing intently on the horizon. "And I think you look beautiful when you smile."
His words caught me off guard.
It had been a long time since someone had complimented me so genuinely.
On the observation deck, a few people were already waiting for the sunrise.
Song Wenlin took two thermoses out of the car.
"Hot milk," he handed me one. "I figured you probably haven't had breakfast."
The sky was gradually lightening, with stars still lingering in the fading darkness.
"You know," he said, gazing up at the starry sky, "I actually escaped here."
"Escaped?"
"Yeah, my family arranged a great job for me, but all I want to do is paint."
He smiled. "So I ran away with my brushes."
"Do you regret it?"
"Sometimes," he turned to look at me.
"But mostly, I feel free. What about you? Do you regret coming here?"
I shook my head. "It's very quiet here, and it feels... real."
As the sun leapt over the horizon, the entire small town was bathed in golden light.
The distant buildings, the nearby fields, and the path beneath our feet all awakened in the morning glow.
"Life should be like this," Song Wenlin said, raising his thermos cup. "Simple and real."
I looked at his profile and suddenly understood what it meant to live in the moment.
"Ding—" My phone chimed with a WeChat notification.
It was a screenshot from Xiao Ya: "Lu Group's young master Lu Heng is about to marry renowned designer Lin Wan."
Song Wenlin caught a glimpse of the message. "Do you need to talk about it?"
I turned off my phone and shook my head. "No, I want to watch the sunrise."
He said nothing, just handed me the thermos filled with milk, its temperature just right.
---
"I’m going to Beicheng."
I set down my coffee and looked at Song Wenlin.
He was sketching the Jujube Tree in the yard.
"Have you settled your work situation?" His pencil paused for a moment.
"Yeah, at a Design Company."
He put down his drawing board and looked at me seriously. "Then... I think I’ll go to Beicheng too."
"Huh?"
"My dad sent someone to find me," he said with a helpless smile. "He wants me to go back and take over the family business."
I was taken aback.
The neighbor, always dressed in a shirt splattered with paint, also had a life he didn't want to face.
"So," he blinked, "let's escape together."
Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the Jujube Tree, casting dappled shadows on his face.
In that moment, he resembled a mischievous child.
"Do you really trust me that much?" I asked.
"Yeah," he lowered his head to continue painting, "because you’re worth trusting."
Such a simple statement made my nose tingle with emotion.
Early the next morning, we packed our bags.
He drove that old Jeep while I held onto the sketch of the Jujube Tree he had given me.
"Miss Lin," the assistant walked into the office holding a tablet, "I have good news."
Lin Wan looked up. "Go on."
"We've tracked down Miss Xu. She has been living in a small town in the south for a month and is now preparing to go to Beicheng."
"Does Lu Heng know?"
"Not yet; I haven't told manager Lu."
Lin Wan stood up and walked to the window. "Don't say anything for now."
Life in Beicheng was surprisingly calm.
I found my rhythm at the Design Company, and Song Wenlin rented a studio on the outskirts of the city.
Every day after work, he would come to pick me up.
"What do you want to eat today?" he asked.
"Anything," I replied.
"Then let's have Zhajiangmian," he said with a smile as he started the car. "I make the best Zhajiangmian in Beicheng."
When we got home, he skillfully tied on an apron.
The aroma of the noodles quickly filled the entire kitchen.
"You know," he said while slicing cucumbers, "I used to hate eating this when I was a kid."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I had to inherit the family noodle shop," he replied as he dropped the noodles into the pot. "But now I've actually fallen in love with cooking."
I was taken aback. "A noodle shop? I thought..."
"You thought my family owned some big corporation?" He laughed. "It is a big business, but our main focus is on a restaurant chain."
Just then, the doorbell rang.
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