Chapter 130: Closer, One Step Further (Subscription Requested!)

With that kiss, Xiao Nongzi seemed severed from the outside world, a strange, indescribable intimacy rising between them.

Li Heng suddenly asked: “Guess what I’m thinking?”

Xiao Han faced the moss-covered stone wall, her back to him, and said crisply: “You’re thinking, ‘So this is what you’re like now.’”

Li Heng chuckled and nodded: “True. For decades I’ve been guessing what’s in your mind—but you’re too sharp, too guarded. I never could figure you out.”

Xiao Han turned her head, puzzled: “Decades?”

Li Heng said: “If I told you I often dream of you—in my dreams, we lived together for decades—would you believe me?”

Xiao Han tilted her head, studying him.

Watching the man who had filled her entire youth with contemplation, longing, and fantasy slowly draw near, she suddenly found herself struck mute—unable to hint how to guide him.

Unable to find a way to make him focus, lovingly, directly, lead himself to her side.

But no matter what—even knowing he was fickle—she still had no courage to forget him.

She had loved him for six years.

She had long made loving him her entire life—she had pitied herself, grieved, been jealous, and secretly rejoiced over trivial, insignificant things.

Even a fleeting glance from him could make her heart pound for hours; she’d lie awake all night reliving it in her quilt, no matter how dark her eyes were the next day in class.

Yet one thing: even when he and Chen Zijin acted passionately in front of her, she never harbored bitter hatred. Because their love was real—and she longed for such a day herself.

Now, even if Chen Zijin wasn’t already in the past, she would make her so—because she had truly fallen for him, lost in his touch and kiss.

Even if it was only a kiss on the cheek—it was enough for her.

For love, Xiao Han considered herself never a hypocrite. Her past coldness was only because she had no reason to draw near. Now, he was going to Shanghai with her for four years of university—everything was moving in the right direction.

She would do everything she could to convince herself not to dwell on his past—and replace it in her own way.

Seeing the girl gaze at him again with a hazy look, Li Heng asked: “What? You don’t believe me?”

Xiao Han showed a tiny dimple: “I do.”

Then she tilted her head slightly and asked: “In the dream, was there also Song Yu?”

Li Heng stiffened. After a pause, he spoke softly: “I understand. Accepting a man like me must be hard for you.”

He paused, fell silent, then continued: “But I still hope there are no misunderstandings between us. Getting close to your heart isn’t something an ordinary man can do. But I don’t consider myself ordinary. Let me take on the difficult task of making your soul even more beautiful.”

After saying this, Li Heng looked up at the blue sky and white clouds, giving her space and time.

Unbeknownst to him, Xiao Han’s hands tightly clasped, her lowered eyes instantly filled with tears.

She squeezed her left hand hard against her right, forcing herself to control her emotions, and smiled as she said:

“Mr. Li, you’re truly a great writer—so good at stirring emotion. Tell me about your new novel.”

“Alright.”

For the next while, Li Heng spoke at length about Beijing’s Summer Palace, Dunhuang in Gansu, the Mogao Caves, Crescent Spring, Dujiangyan, and the Liu Hou Shrine—describing each in great detail.

It took nearly half an hour.

Of course, he wasn’t foolish—he only spoke of what he could say. As for what he couldn’t—well, let it sink deep into his heart.

Like Chen Zijin. Like meeting Chen Gaoyuan and Chen Xiaomi.

Throughout, Xiao Han said nothing, listening quietly until he finished, then rose, walked through the narrow alley, and returned with a bowl of chilled liangfen.

The liangfen felt cool in her palm, sprinkled with sesame and aged vinegar—just one look made her mouth water.

“Just one bowl?” Li Heng asked, taking it.

Xiao Han replied crisply: “My stomach’s small—I’m saving room for wontons.”

Hearing this, Li Heng scooped a spoonful and held it to her lips.

They gazed at each other for a long moment; she opened her mouth slightly, letting the spoon slide the liangfen inside.

Li Heng said: “Eat it all.”

Xiao Han raised her eyebrows, nodded obediently, closed her lips, and licked every trace from the spoon.

But the next second, her whole body burned—Li Heng was happily eating the liangfen with the very spoon she’d used, one spoonful after another.

Finally, he said: “This is the most delicious liangfen I’ve ever eaten.”

Xiao Han stared, entranced—then, when she realized, quickly turned away, her heart aching and joyful: How bold can you be? Are you praising my liangfen—or my saliva?

Saliva

The thought of her saliva having entered his mouth made her stagger; she gripped the mossy wall with her right hand, feigning nonchalance as she dragged a long mark along it, then walked off without looking back:

“Mr. Li, I’m hungry. Let’s go eat wontons.”

“Don’t call me. I’m right behind you.”

Hearing this, Xiao Han smiled, eyes narrowing, and quickened her pace.

“By the way, want another bite?” Li Heng asked.

“No, you eat it.”

Li Heng asked: “You’re repulsed by my saliva?”

Xiao Han smiled faintly, saying nothing, and changed the subject: “When are you leaving for the Three Gorges?”

Li Heng said: “In three days.”

“Will you come back for summer vacation?”

“Of course. I’ll come back to pick you up and take you to Shanghai.”

The words ended abruptly—but both felt their hearts drawing closer.

They passed through the alley, walked two streets north, and reached Shimen Station. The market had just opened, and most people had eaten breakfast—so the wonton shop was nearly empty, with only Yang Ying, Zhang Zhiyong, and Li Ran sitting chatting with the shop owner.

Beside the owner was a stranger—a girl, about twenty, likely her daughter.

Don’t ask why.

Because the mother and daughter looked nearly identical in face and figure.

Seeing Li Heng and Xiao Han enter together, the owner stood and asked: “Wontons or liangfen?”

Li Heng, as if he owned the place, called out: “Two bowls of wontons, large portions—one spicy, one medium spicy.”

Seeing Li Heng order without asking Xiao Han’s opinion—and the girl not objecting—the owner stared at her several times, wondering about their relationship.

In fact, the owner knew Xiao Han.

After all, reputation precedes a person. Xiao Han’s beauty, beyond the town’s standards, was no secret to a native.

The owner glanced at Xiao Han, then at her daughter—no comparison needed, she immediately abandoned the idea of introducing her daughter to Li Heng.

Li Ran was seeing Xiao Han for the first time today.

After years of traveling, this was only the second time she’d seen such a beautiful woman.

The first time was two years ago, at the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda in Xi’an with Sun Aimin—when the woman arrived in a private car, radiating elegance. Li Ran had judged her a wealthy visitor from afar, and been utterly awestruck.

She remembered it vividly.

Never expected—never imagined—that she’d witness such a miracle again, in this remote little town.

Yes—right now, Xiao Han’s impact on Li Ran was identical to two years ago: different in aura, but like spring orchids and autumn chrysanthemums, each had her own charm.

After studying Xiao Han closely, Li Ran couldn’t help asking Li Heng:

“Li Heng, is she your sweetheart?”

Li Ran was truly unlike anyone else—damn, she’d never met someone so blunt.

In this era, someone so direct was a rarity—especially to Li Heng.

Zhang Zhiyong and Yang Ying both stared at Li Heng, eager to hear how he’d answer in front of strangers.

Xiao Han lowered her eyes to her fingernails, as if they held flowers, pretending not to hear.

Li Heng didn’t hesitate—he smiled and nodded, then asked: “How’s the wonton flavor here? Do you like it?”

“Delicious. I love the spice,” Li Ran said, still staring at Xiao Han as she spoke.

Li Heng sighed. “Hey, you’re a famous journalist—you’ve seen the world. Don’t stare like that.”

“What? You’re already protective?”

Li Ran finally looked away, gazing at the distant mountains: “Your town’s feng shui is strange—produces great writers, great beauties, even provincial top scorers.”

Zhang Zhiyong volunteered: “You praised all three of them—what about me? What about old man me?”

Li Ran, familiar enough to joke freely: “Your family’s fine too—specializes in bastards.”

“Damn! Can’t you say something nice? I won’t defend my dad if you call him a bastard—but there are whores everywhere, but I’m still—”

Zhang Zhiyong stopped mid-sentence, sensing the faint killing intent in Li Heng and Yang Ying’s eyes.

When he said “biaozi,” Li Heng subtly watched the shop owner’s reaction.

Sure enough, her face grew uneasy, stiff.

The wontons arrived. Li Heng picked up his chopsticks and began eating.

When he’d eaten halfway, Yang Ying said: “Li Heng, I won’t go traveling with you.”

Li Heng looked up at her, unphased.

Yang Ying explained: “After my acceptance letter came, I need to handle household registration transfer—I might have to return to the village.”

“Fine. Don’t go. Xiao Han will have company at home—won’t be bored.” Li Heng knew this wasn’t her real reason.

But since she wouldn’t say it, he didn’t press.

After finishing the wontons and paying, Li Heng told the owner: “Auntie, not yet—keep it quiet.”

They’d once talked for hours at the shop’s entrance, and given his status, his words carried weight—the owner readily agreed.

Watching the group walk away, the owner’s silent daughter stared at Li Heng’s back and asked:

“That’s Li Heng?”

“The legendary writer from our town?”

[101] The owner sighed: “Who else could it be? If I’d known he was dating the secretary’s daughter, I wouldn’t have called you back.”

Originally, the boss lady’s daughter had been visiting a classmate’s house.

But when the boss lady saw the clueless man enter the shop, she guessed Li Heng might be coming soon; under a strange, indescribable emotion, she secretly called her daughter back.

The daughter returned with her mother purely out of curiosity, with no particular intention:

“Wasn’t he dating that Chen girl? How did he suddenly switch to the secretary’s daughter?”

“That’s what they say, but who knows the real story?” The boss lady shook her head and told her daughter not to spread rumors outside.

“I’m not stupid. If I start gossiping about something like this, people will immediately guess it came from us.” The daughter’s logic was perfectly clear.

After leaving the wonton shop, the five of them wandered for a while before parting ways.

Li Heng, Zhang Zhiyong, and Li Ran were heading to the county town.

Xiao Han and Yang Ying would continue shopping while waiting for Xiao Feng to come down from Shiqiaopu—today was the day they had agreed to meet.

Before parting, Li Heng said to Xiao Han: “I might leave straight from the county town. Wait for me at home—I’ll come back by month’s end to pick you up.”

Hearing such a sentimental remark in front of everyone, Xiao Han, though secretly delighted, blushed and couldn’t bear to respond; she said nothing, just watched them leave.

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(End of chapter)