Chapter 103: Intimacy, Caught in the Act

Mai Sui seemed very familiar with Hongqi Road, and after comparing four restaurants, the three settled on a husband-and-wife-run shop.

Mai Sui introduced: “This place’s specialty is wild game, especially cured rabbit and cured wild chicken—tastes amazing.”

No need to hesitate—Li Heng immediately ordered both the cured rabbit and the cured wild chicken.

Song Yu ordered leek river shrimp.

Seeing there were already three meat dishes, Mai Sui ordered one vegetable: stir-fried lettuce strips.

When the owner’s wife had written down the orders, Li Heng looked up and asked: “What other special dishes do you have?”

The owner’s wife replied: “Do you eat fish?”

Li Heng asked: “What kind of fish? How do you prepare it?”

The owner’s wife said: “Yellow bone fish, dry pot style.”

It had been over half a year since his rebirth, and he’d never eaten yellow bone fish; as someone who loved fish, Li Heng couldn’t help swallowing his saliva at the mention, and immediately adjusted the spice level based on the two girls’ tolerance.

He instructed: “One portion, medium spicy.”

After the owner’s wife left, Song Yu asked: “Five dishes—we three can finish all this?”

Actually, Song Yu had wanted to stop him earlier, but since men valued face in public, she held back.

She thought this way because Mai Sui was treating today, so she didn’t want to say the food was too much.

But knowing Li Heng as she did, she was certain he’d sneak off to pay the bill later.

In short, Song Yu was thinking of Li Heng’s behalf, trying to save him a few coins.

Mai Sui patted her pocket and smiled: “I brought plenty of cash today—don’t worry, and I actually feel like eating fish too.”

Before either could respond, she changed the subject: “With good dishes ready, shall we drink alcohol or soda?”

Hearing this, Song Yu looked at Li Heng; Li Heng looked at Song Yu at the same time.

They exchanged a smile; Li Heng said: “Let’s have soda—it’ll be dark soon, safer that way.”

Each ordered a bottle of soda and chatted while waiting for the food.

They talked about everything—family, childhood; at this level of friendship, there were no taboos, and the atmosphere was warm and easy.

Song Yu wasn’t originally from Shaoshan—her father was from beside Dongting Lake, her mother from Taojiang in Yiyang; people always said Taojiang produced great beauties since ancient times, and her mother truly proved it—she was stunningly beautiful. The couple met in college, harmonious and devoted, and both came to Shaoshan Normal College to teach.

Mai Sui recounted how she met Sun Manning in elementary school: as a frail child, she was often bullied, until Sun Manning stood up for her, fought for her, and protected her.

When discussing family, the two girls became very curious about Li Heng’s parents’ matchmaker—the friend who bought Li Jianguo’s train ticket to neighboring Jiangxi Province.

Mai Sui asked: “Did that auntie really like your dad?”

Li Heng hesitated, then nodded quietly: “Pretty much. I once secretly read a letter my mom wrote to Aunt Zhao: ‘Zhao Jing, you’ve ruined me—once a refined young lady, now a field laborer, worn out and deformed. If you knew this would happen, you should’ve married him yourself.’”

Later, Aunt Zhao replied: ‘I waited years hoping you’d divorce, but you two are happily married—now you blame me?’”

The two girls couldn’t help laughing.

Song Yu asked: “Did Aunt Zhao ever marry?”

Li Heng nodded: “Yes—she married at twenty-eight and moved to the northwest with an official.”

Mai Sui was surprised: “That far?”

Li Heng said: “She deliberately married far away.”

The two clever girls understood immediately.

Why marry so far?

Of course—she couldn’t forget her feelings for Li Jianguo, so she chose distance to dull them.

Song Yu asked: “Do you still keep in touch with her now?”

Li Heng replied: “Yes—during middle school I often brought letters home; after I came to Shaoshan for high school, my mom received a letter from the northwest every few months, but…”

Mai Sui asked: “But what?”

Li Heng recalled: “Aunt Zhao’s luck was bad. During this winter break, I heard from my mom that the official was dying.”

The matter of the official was complicated and strange.

In his past life, Li Heng met Aunt Zhao’s daughter; due to their family connection, they later became friends.

Over drinks one time, Aunt Zhao’s daughter complained: “Mom has very high demands in bed—Dad spent years brewing herbal medicine to satisfy her, and he didn’t make it past fifty.”

Well, it was the so-called “horse wind.” Recently, the official suddenly collapsed on Aunt Zhao—though he didn’t die on the spot, he was nearly dead, and now lies bedridden.

As they chatted, the dishes arrived; as they chatted more, the meal ended.

Midway, Li Heng excused himself to the restroom and settled the bill.

Mai Sui seemed to guess his intention and moved to pay, but Song Yu grabbed her hand under the table.

Song Yu looked toward the private room door and said: “You still don’t know him after all these years? Let him do it.”

Mai Sui looked slightly embarrassed.

Song Yu smiled reassuringly: “We’re not just one-time friends—there’s plenty of time ahead.”

Mai Sui relaxed, then blurted out: “Song Yu, my gut tells me—accept him soon, or someone else will snatch him away.”

Song Yu froze, silent.

Mai Sui leaned close and whispered: “Who did you think of?”

Song Yu thought of Chen Zijin, and the century’s greatest rival Chen Zijin mentioned: Xiao Han.

She shook her head: “I’m not psychologically ready for dating—I can’t get past it.”

Mai Sui pressed: “Can’t get past what? That he dated Chen Zijin?”

Song Yu stared at her chopsticks, then spoke after a long pause: “I saw them kiss in the small grove—he—he…”

She couldn’t say what came after “he”—her face was too thin-skinned.

It was simply that Li Heng’s hand had slipped inside Chen Zijin’s clothes—the scene of their passionate kiss and touch had shattered her worldview.

Even now, recalling it felt vivid, clear, impossible to shake off.

Girls in this era took love seriously and purely; their views on marriage were simple enough to make future generations envious.

Imagining Li Heng kissing Chen Zijin, Mai Sui couldn’t accept it either—she stammered, speechless.

But she finally urged: “Li Heng isn’t an ordinary man—you should make an exception.”

The phrase “make an exception” made Song Yu smile; she picked up her soda and said: “Come on, only a little left—don’t waste it. Let’s finish it.”

“Cheers!”

Mai Sui picked up her soda, clinked bottles, and drank it all.

After the meal, as they stepped out of the restaurant, Mai Sui said: “Li Heng, you spent too much today—next time, don’t fight me for the bill.”

Li Heng agreed readily: “Fine, I won’t.”

Walking along the street, they passed five or six shops—then came the photo studio.

At the entrance, the three exchanged glances and walked in together, perfectly in sync.

“Hello, taking photos?”

“Yes.”

“What kind? Individual ID photos? Or…?”

Li Heng interrupted: “Group photo.”

“Follow me.”

The female photographer opened the door to the inner room, turned on the floor lamps in the corners, adjusted the camera, and looked at the three.

Standing behind the two girls, Li Heng silently pulled out a hundred-yuan note from his pocket, held it above his head so the photographer could see, then subtly pointed at Song Yu.

Seeing the photographer nod knowingly, Li Heng quickly tucked the money away and said: “Let’s take the group photo first, then me and Song Yu.”

Hearing he wanted a solo photo with her, Song Yu wasn’t surprised—she’d known all along he’d come for this.

For the group photo, Mai Sui wisely stood to Song Yu’s left, letting Song Yu stand in the center.

“Good, look at the lens, nice expressions—hold it.”

The photographer said, then suddenly—*click*—the group photo was done.

“Don’t move—I’ll take another.”

*Click*—the second group photo was done.

Mai Sui stepped aside toward the door: “Your turn now.”

With her friend gone, Song Yu suddenly felt nervous; she glanced at him twice, then fixed her gaze ahead.

“Hey, your posture’s stiff—relax, relax, breathe, drop your shoulders.”

Seeing the two looked less natural in the frame than in person, the photographer tried guiding them with experience.

“Still not good—you’re both so good-looking, but you look less comfortable on camera than in real life—be more natural.”

After two more attempts and still no ideal result, the photographer suddenly leaned out from behind the camera:

“You two are a couple, right? If so, don’t stand so far apart—get closer, ideally shoulder to shoulder.”

She added to Li Heng: “Try half-hugging her—might get unexpected results.”

He’d been waiting for this moment—the moment the photographer finished speaking, before Song Yu could react, Li Heng’s right hand shot out like lightning and gently wrapped around her waist.

Mai Sui’s mouth opened slightly, then she covered it and smiled.

Song Yu lowered her gaze, glanced at his hand—unruly yet proper—then steadied herself and looked back at the lens.

“See? I told you—this intimate interaction feels perfect. You should’ve done this from the start,” the photographer praised her own insight.

Li Heng was satisfied.

For Song Yu, this extraordinary woman, he didn’t fight for a day or a moment—he didn’t fight for a city or a fortress; having this photo to close his high school years was enough.

This money? Worth every damn cent!

After the intimate photo, Li Heng knew when to stop—he stepped back and gave the spot to Mai Sui: “Opportunity won’t come twice—take a photo together too.”

“Fine.”

Song Yu and Mai Sui’s photo session went much faster—no drama at all. They barely steadied themselves, received a quick instruction, and then *click*—it was over.

After the photos, as they walked out of the small house, Li Heng quietly slipped ten yuan into the female photographer’s hand.

“How long until we get the photos?” Song Yu asked.

The photographer finished registering their information and said, “Come back in three days to pick them up.”

Song Yu and Mai Sui discussed it briefly.

Mai Sui said, “I live closer and it’s more convenient—I’ll come get the photos.”

The female photographer nodded. “Fine by me.”

On the way back, a dark, heavy cloud suddenly swept in from the southeast—it started raining.

The heavens seemed to be playing a joke; the rain was torrential.

Li Heng had only brought money, no backpack.

Song Yu had the same.

Mai Sui, however, pulled an umbrella from her backpack and quickly shoved it into Li Heng’s hands. “Such a perfect chance—you two should enjoy a walk in the rain. I’m off.”

Before either could react, driven by a desire to do them a favor, Mai Sui dashed resolutely into the downpour.

“Hey! Mai Sui! Hey! Mai Sui! Share the umbrella with Song Yu!”

Mai Sui ignored Li Heng’s shouts and ran even faster. Soon, she vanished around the corner of the path.

The two stared at each other for a moment. Li Heng frowned. “It’s pouring like this—she’s already soaked through.”

Song Yu looked up at the sky, worried. “We should hurry after her. There’s a stretch ahead without streetlights—robberies happen often there. We can’t let her get hurt.”

“Mm.”

Without hesitation, they ran after her.

They chased past the path, past the corner, past the dark zone—until, circling past Shaoshan Teachers College, they spotted Mai Sui’s figure far ahead on the main road. Only then did they finally breathe easier.

In that short time, Mai Sui had already run at least four hundred meters.

Li Heng sighed inwardly: “Long legs really have an advantage—she runs faster than a rabbit. She could compete in the Olympics.”

Song Yu was 168 cm tall; Mai Sui wasn’t much shorter. Both women had long, straight legs.

Song Yu smiled faintly. “I heard from Man Ning that Mai Sui won first place in the 200-meter race back in middle school.”

“No wonder.”

Li Heng muttered, then suddenly stiffened. He grabbed Song Yu’s hand and pulled her behind a nearby osmanthus tree.

Following his gaze, Song Yu saw her parents—holding a black umbrella—returning from the direction of No. 1 High School.

She said quietly, “They must’ve come to pick me up.”

Li Heng agreed. “So… are you going home to report in tonight?”

They’d finally gotten a moment alone, the mood was right—he hadn’t wanted her to leave so soon. That’s why he’d instinctively pulled her behind the tree earlier.

But he’d been a parent before. He understood the worries of parents. That’s why he asked this question with genuine conscience.

Song Yu thought for a moment. “Wait for me under the tree ahead. I’ll go home to grab a few things, then come back. I’m staying at school tonight.”

Though the dangerous stretch was behind them, she still worried about Mai Sui—she needed to see her in the dorm to feel at ease.

“Mm, okay.”

On the other side.

Under the umbrella, Jiang Yue whispered, “I think I saw Yu Bao—she hid behind the osmanthus tree.”

Song Shi lowered the umbrella’s edge slightly. “Don’t look that way. The college entrance exam is coming—don’t stir up trouble now.”

Jiang Yue felt uneasy. “They looked so close—did you see the boy’s face?”

Her precious daughter, raised like a pearl for eighteen years, now sharing an umbrella with a boy—even skipping home—Song Shi felt even more uneasy. But he held himself back.

“He reacted fast. The moment I looked, he lowered the umbrella. I didn’t see anything.”

In truth, it was a visual misjudgment.

Because the couple adored their daughter and knew her well, their eyes naturally fixed on her first. Even without clearly seeing her face, they could identify her by her figure and clothes.

But Li Heng, by the time the couple turned their gaze toward him, had already hidden his face behind the umbrella.

“Should we pretend not to notice?” Jiang Yue asked.

Song Shi heard the resentment in his wife’s voice. He sighed. “What can we do? Confront them now? Or wait until after the exam?”

The college entrance exam was a major event. As a university music teacher, Jiang Yue wasn’t short-sighted. With a sigh, she followed her husband up the steps and into their courtyard.

But she wasn’t ready to let it go. As soon as they entered, she shut the gate and crept silently to the grapevine trellis, crouching low, peering through a narrow gap at the road below.

Song Shi was helpless. “Stop looking. You’ll regret it if you see him—you won’t sleep tonight.”

Jiang Yue said, “I already can’t sleep.”

“Here they come!”

“Who’s coming?”

“Quick, get inside—our daughter’s back.”

“Did you see the boy’s face?”

PS: Requesting monthly tickets! Requesting subscriptions!

Zhao Jing isn’t padding—this is all useful.

(Already updated ten thousand characters.)

(End of chapter.)