Chapter 110: Famous Across the Land: Even a Remarried Man Has His Spring (Requesting Monthly Votes)

When Xiao Han’s back fell into his arms, Li Heng instinctively reached out to steady her waist.

The moment his right hand touched her, he sharply felt her body stiffen from soft to rigid.

After a moment’s thought, Li Heng changed his grip from supporting to embracing, half-holding her slender waist in rhythm with the swaying bus.

In an instant, she trembled all over, but finally yielded—amid a faint bitterness and a hint of sweetness.

Xiao Han comforted herself: just give him face—so many acquaintances are watching.

Besides, he went to so much trouble; I’ve gained face too. And he even called me his future bride—well, I might as well let it stand for once.

Her face remained gloomy, like a bitter melon, but inside, she was quietly pleased.

She didn’t know why this was happening.

All she knew was her heart beat unnaturally fast, and the tiny finger fate had tugged inside her could not be silenced, no matter how many times she muttered to herself.

Xiao Han always felt she crumbled completely before him, changing her mind at his every whim.

If this were ancient times, and she were the supreme empress, he would surely be the source of her downfall—the irrevocable seducer who turned her into a foolish ruler.

“Are you angry?”

Seeing her gaze still fixed outside—even a stray dog seemed more interesting than him—Li Heng asked.

Xiao Han wanted to say: I’ve been sulking since yesterday—I wanted to beat you into a pig’s head and smash Song Yu into a dog’s head.

But she lacked the courage to say it; she was the weaker party. Whoever loved more, whoever cared more about this fragile, ambiguous bond, had to swallow bitter herbs in silence.

Meeting his steady gaze, Xiao Han pleaded pitifully: “My heart is shattered into a thousand pieces—I’m trying to glue them back together. Tell Song Yu I give up, okay?”

Hearing this, Li Heng sighed: “You say one thing but mean another—false and insincere.”

“I’m not,” Xiao Han said, her cheeks reddening further as she turned to stare straight at him.

At this critical moment, she had to overcome her fear, grow bolder with every setback, respond with ease, and hide every trace of embarrassment.

After all, she had a perfectly useful mask.

Their eyes met, and Li Heng said seriously: “Sorry—last night our homeroom teacher invited us for dinner and drinks, so we all went. I didn’t come find you.”

This morning I bought him a pack of cigarettes. He insisted on returning the favor and treated us to a bowl of beef noodles.”

Sometimes, when two people play mind games, what they really need is just an attitude—or an explanation—or an apology.

Sensing the right moment, Li Heng chose to speak gently.

Hearing this, remembering she’d indeed seen Wang Qi, the 204 class homeroom teacher, drunk last night, and seen him pay the bill this morning, Xiao Han suddenly felt a pang of embarrassment at his deep, heart-tugging gaze.

“Is that really how it was?”

“Mm.”

“Were the noodles good?”

“Tasted fine.”

“Then treat me to a bowl today.”

“Alright.”

Hearing the long-absent “you” return, Li Heng finally let out the breath he’d been holding.

The bus continued through low hills and open fields; after repeated coaxing, Xiao Han finally took the ice cream, lowered her head, and ate it in small bites.

Seeing them reconcile, Yang Yingwen in the front row mocked: “Xiao Han, you spoil him too much. If I were you, I wouldn’t speak to him for at least a year and a half.”

Xiao Han laughed bitterly, thinking: I don’t need a year and a half—just two months of silence, and he’ll be snatched away by some other fox spirit.

She wasn’t clueless—she just felt alone now, and the odds were stacked against her. She had to show weakness and compromise.

Xiao Feng, who never meddled in others’ affairs, suddenly asked a tricky question.

She asked Li Heng: “Back in middle school, Xiao Han was so beautiful and so smart—why didn’t you get together?”

This had always puzzled her. Chen Zijin was undeniably beautiful, but beauty meant nothing without comparison.

Even as a woman, Xiao Feng was often awed by Xiao Han’s beauty; every time she saw that flawless, luminous face, her mood lifted slightly.

Li Heng didn’t want to answer—but caught the sly, deer-like gaze beside him—so he gritted his teeth and said:

“I couldn’t afford the shame. Back then, I had so many buddies who fought with me. I had pride—I couldn’t date a girl who’d beaten me twice.”

Hearing this, Xiao Han flushed and looked away.

Yang Yingwen and Xiao Feng burst out laughing.

The ice was broken. The group’s mood soared, and they began chatting eagerly.

They talked about the college entrance exam, the universities they hoped to attend, daily life, and how to spend the two-month summer break…

But one thing annoyed them: Yang Cheng was too damn flashy—he kept name-dropping Tsinghua and Peking University.

Before the bus even reached the county seat, everyone on board knew that six of them were going to produce several Tsinghua and Peking University students.

Wow! Seriously?

Tsinghua and Peking University? China’s top schools? Unbelievable!

People flocked over to chat, claiming they just wanted to soak up some luck.

Yang Yingwen, Xiao Feng, and Li Heng—the three who’d listed Tsinghua and Peking as their first choices—got the most attention.

Seeing the situation turn sour, and feeling carsick, Li Heng decided to go all in: he found a gap, tilted his head, and collapsed onto Xiao Han’s shoulder, drifting into sleep.

Since he hadn’t slept much the night before, he slept soundly the whole way.

When he opened his eyes again, the bus had already passed Yanggu’ao—the next stop was Qianzhen, the final destination.

He was woken by a voice. His eyes flew open—he was startled: right before him loomed a mountain peak.

Sunset streamed through the window, gilding Xiao Han’s shy face. She lowered her eyes, blinked, then gave a wry smile and asked four questions in a row:

“Mr. Li, did you just have a dream?”

“What did you dream about?”

“Why did you call out my name while asleep?”

“Are you secretly in love with me?”

Li Heng was stunned—had he shouted his dream out loud? Was he about to be publicly humiliated?

He answered instinctively: “No.”

“Oh.”

Xiao Han dragged out the “oh,” then whispered: “Then why is your head still pressing against my chest? Don’t you want to pick up your bag and get ready to get off? Do you want everyone on the bus to see you looking like a lecher?”

Li Heng snapped back to reality and sat up straight.

Seeing his still-dazed, foolishly adorable expression, Xiao Han turned her head aside, her lips curled into a sweet smile.

“Screech!” The old Qianzhen bus station—the driver slammed the brakes, and the bus finally stopped.

Li Heng asked: “Xiao Han, has your mom arrived? Are you still coming to eat noodles with me?”

Seeing her beloved mother walk over from the post office, a fire blazed in Xiao Han’s chest.

She turned back softly and said: “No. Let’s go eat at the gate of No. 1 High School another day—at that shop you mentioned this morning. I want the authentic beef noodles.”

Li Heng’s face twitched as he muttered under his breath: “She’s got a serious grudge—what a vengeful woman.”

Xiao Han smiled sweetly to herself, avoiding his eyes, stood up, and grabbed her bag to get off.

Wei Shiman stepped forward and warmly greeted them: “Yingwen, Xiao Feng, it’s late tonight—why not stay at our place? You’ve finished the exam; no need to rush.”

Since they’d stayed at Xiao Han’s house before, and with the mother-daughter duo’s urging, Yang Yingwen and Xiao Feng agreed to stay.

Only now did Wei Shiman turn to Li Heng, Yang Cheng, and Zhang Zhiyong:

“We’ve prepared dinner. Would you three like to join us before heading home?”

Li Heng and the others knew it was just politeness—anyone who took it seriously was a fool. They politely declined, shouldered their bags, and left.

Once they were gone, Wei Shiman asked about the group’s college exam results. When she learned Li Heng had listed Peking University as his first choice, she was genuinely surprised.

Back home, as she prepared dinner, Wei Shiman casually mentioned to the three girls: “There’s a rumor going around town.”

“They say the Li Heng who came back with you is now a famous writer. You’ve studied together all these years—you know him well. Have you heard anything?”

Xiao Han, Yang Yingwen, and Xiao Feng exchanged glances but said nothing.

Seeing their silence, Wei Shiman paused her ladling and asked slowly: “Is it true?”

Seeing Xiao Han take the ladle from her mother and continue serving soup without responding, Yang Yingwen nodded: “Auntie, it’s true. We found out last month.”

Wei Shiman froze, glanced at her daughter, then fixed her gaze on Xiao Feng.

Xiao Feng added: “It’s real.”

Wei Shiman sat heavily on the stool, disbelieving: “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Yang Yingwen spent about five minutes recounting everything he knew.

When she finished listening, Wei Shiman’s first thought was guilt: I should’ve been more sincere when I invited Li Heng to dinner—I was too dismissive.

Then she wondered: If the Chen family found out, they’d have a field day—would they regret it now?

After dinner, while Yang Yingwen and Xiao Feng were bathing, Wei Shiman spoke privately to her daughter:

“Next time you see Li Heng, don’t be so proud. You’re classmates—say a few words to him, that’s all.”

Xiao Han cradled her red tea, speaking casually: “Why bother? He’s a remarried man.”

Wei Shiman sighed, exasperated by her daughter’s coldness: “Even remarried men have their spring. Don’t judge him with old eyes.”

Hearing this, Xiao Han slowly turned her head toward her mother and suddenly blurted: “Then… why don’t you give me to him?”

Wei Shiman was speechless with rage and stormed off.

As always, no matter how late or how hard the rain fell, the three of them still marched into Qian Yuejin’s Noodle Shop.

The owner was still plump, still irresistibly alluring: “What’ll you three have?”

Li Heng called out: “Three large bowls of wonton—extra spicy!”

Zhang Zhiyong chimed in: “Boss, two bowls for me—super spicy!”

Yang Cheng added: “I’ll have two bowls too—I’ve been sitting in a car all day, I’m starving.”

The shop owner asked: “You’re students, right? Which school do you attend?”

Yang Cheng lifted his head. “Shaosheng No. 1 High School.”

“Oh, I heard your school produced a writer who earned several thousand yuan from a book—who is it? Do you know him?” the owner asked.

Li Heng kicked the fool in the shin to shut him up.

Yang Cheng frowned. “Writer from No. 1 High? We’ve never heard of him.”

Someone nearby sneered: “Then you’re definitely lying—you’re not even a student from No. 1 High if you don’t know this.”

Yang Cheng nearly spat blood. He took pride in getting into No. 1 High; how could he tolerate such slander? He slammed his admission ticket onto the table.

“Who says I’m not from No. 1 High? I just finished the college entrance exam.”

The owner leaned forward to check the ticket. “Huh, seems real. Do you know someone named Li Heng?”

Yang Cheng replied instinctively: “Of course I know him—he’s this gorgeous guy everyone loves, flowers bloom when he walks by. How could I not know him?”

The people at the next table said: “We heard the writer’s name is Li Heng.”

“Are you kidding? The Li Heng I know is only eighteen.”

“The rumor says he’s eighteen too.”

“The Li Heng I know is from Shangwan Village.”

“Small world—the rumor says he’s from Shangwan Village too.”

Hearing this, Yang Cheng stood frozen for twenty full seconds, then whirled around and stared at Li Heng as if he’d seen a ghost.

Well then, one is one, two is two.

Within three seconds, every diner in the shop realized something, and all turned to look at Li Heng.

Li Heng was speechless; he quietly kicked Yang Cheng.

Yang Cheng winced, snapped back to reality, and asked: “Zou Ai, Li Heng is from your village—is he really a writer?”

At this, everyone’s disappointment returned, and they went back to eating their noodles, dumplings, and wontons.

Li Heng shook his head. “I haven’t heard of it, but I’ll ask the folks back in the village.”

With their identities nearly exposed, the three hurried through their meal—three of them split five wontons, finishing in under ten minutes.

When it came time to pay, the owner smiled at Li Heng. “No need to pay—I’ll treat you today.”

“Come back anytime. My daughter’s studying at Hunan University and will be home soon—she graduated from No. 1 High too. You’re alumni, same age—you should get to know each other.”

The three tried to pay several times, but the owner refused to take the money.

Outside the noodle shop, Yang Cheng rubbed his head. “Hey, something feels off—did the owner like me? Is she going to introduce her daughter to me?”

Zhang Zhiyong sneered. “You? Short and fat?”

Yang Cheng patted his big belly. “You don’t get it—how many fat guys are there these days?”

“What does that prove?”

“It proves my family’s well-off, that I’m lucky—maybe she likes guys like me. Gives her security.”

Zhang Zhiyong grabbed his ear. “Damn it! You’re shameless—you’ve got thicker skin than me!”

Yang Cheng dodged, leaned close to Li Heng, and asked: “Li Heng, are you really a writer?”

Li Heng smiled. “What do you think? Do I look like one?”

Yang Cheng shook his head vigorously. “No way. If you’re a writer, I’ll drink the whole river dry.”

It was too late, Xiao Feng wasn’t going home, and Yang Cheng was scared to be alone, so the fool invited him to spend the night at his place, promising to take him back tomorrow.

On the way, Yang Cheng kept glancing at Li Heng, then at the river, falling suddenly silent.

Halfway there, Zhang Zhiyong turned back to yell at the lagging Yang Cheng: “Damn it! Are you dumb or what? Why so quiet today?”

Yang Cheng looked mournful. “Don’t bother me—I’m thinking about how to drink the whole river dry.”

Li Heng chuckled. “Then don’t drink it.”

Yang Cheng’s face fell. “Now I feel worse—you secretly became a famous writer, and now I can’t even brag to you anymore.”

The fool kicked him. “Hey! What’s the big deal? Brag about yourself, why brag about my brother? I’m the one who brags about him all the time.”

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(End of chapter.)