Chapter 309: Gentle Moistening, Silent as Dew

After two meticulous revisions, he added 20% of his own content to just the first chapter, making the opening more gripping, more evocative, more mysterious, and better at pulling at emotions.

At this moment, he felt a quiet delight—thankfully, in his past life he had been a civil servant for seven years, with endless time, having read countless books and accumulated substantial knowledge.

Thankfully, in both lives he loved reading; having experienced life and death, he had gained profound insights that gave him both the ability and the opportunity to perform surgery on such a classic.

After a short rest, he felt thirsty and reached for a cup to drink tea, only to realize—not only was there no tea, but damn it, he didn't even have a water cup.

He wanted to move, wanted to go get water.

But the next second he suppressed the thought, for he knew writing flow was rare—once he left his seat, it would take a long time to regain it.

Exhaling two deep breaths, Li Heng began his third meticulous revision; if the previous "To Live" and "A Bitter Journey Through Culture" were his works for fame and money, this novel carried great ambition—he sought not just wealth and reputation, but honor.

Yes, honor!

So he planned to pour unprecedented energy into writing this masterpiece, refining his added content to perfection, striving to elevate it beyond the original.

Over thirteen thousand words, Li Heng spent over three hours on the third revision, then read through it once more from start to finish—he felt the result was excellent, deeply satisfied.

"Mmm!"

Stretching his arms wide, Li Heng yawned, feeling utterly refreshed—but damn, he was starving, his stomach growling loudly!

He hadn't noticed hunger while writing, but the moment he stopped, the overwhelming hunger slammed into him.

He glanced at the clock—damn! It was already 7:49.

He'd sat motionless for over twelve hours!

That was insane!

He felt like a machine.

With no time to spare, he quickly tidied his pen and ink, didn't even bother organizing his manuscript, and rushed out the door.

At this moment, Yu Yu Yu Shuheng and Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe were watching TV on the sofa—the TV was muted.

Hearing the noise, both women turned their heads toward him.

Li Heng had no time to greet them—he sprinted straight for the bathroom.

The bathroom door slammed shut with a "bang."

The two women exchanged glances; then Yu Yu Yu Shuheng said, "Zhou Zhou Shihe, heat up the dishes. I'll go check on him in his room."

"Okay."

Dinner had been prepared long ago; the two women had been waiting, and by now night had fallen—the food had grown cold! After more than ten days, heavy snowflakes drifted down outside again.

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe carried the dishes to the kitchen.

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng immediately went to the desk—pens and ink bottles lay scattered, manuscripts piled haphazardly on top of one another.

There was the original first draft, and the revised second draft.

The original was covered in scribbles and annotations, every blank space densely filled; a quick glance looked like gibberish, but upon closer reading, its depth and brilliance became clear.

She studied the first draft for a long time, then set it down and picked up the second draft, sitting in the chair to read.

She couldn't help but read—her feet had rooted to the spot; the first sentence of the first chapter had already hooked her.

Why was the male protagonist proud of having married seven wives in his lifetime?

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng read on, gradually lost in the world of the novel, forgetting time, forgetting why she had come—she couldn't tear herself away.

Coming out of the bathroom, Li Heng dried his hands and dashed into the kitchen, immediately saying to Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe: "Zhou Zhou Shihe, I'm starving!"

He used to call her "Comrade Zhou Zhou Shihe," but now, so hungry he couldn't be bothered—"comrade" was dropped.

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe had anticipated this; the first dish she reheated was Wenshi Tofu Soup, already ladled into a bowl and left warming on the stove, she said gently:

"You haven't eaten all day—drink some soup and tofu first to settle your stomach; don't eat solid food right away."

"Mm, okay."

Li Heng had no concept of politeness—he grabbed the bowl, skipped the chopsticks entirely, and slurped straight from the rim.

Seeing this, Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe pulled a pair of chopsticks from the bamboo basket and handed them to him: "Drink slowly—it's better for your stomach."

"Mm-mm." Li Heng kept his mouth glued to the bowl, mumbling his reply.

He kept drinking, kept gulping, until only tofu remained at the bottom—then he finally paused to take the chopsticks and began picking up the tofu.

After finishing, Li Heng licked his lips, savoring the taste: "Thank you—this soup is amazing. It's the best I've ever had in my life."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe smiled knowingly, her slender fingers gesturing lightly toward the Four Joy Meatballs: "Eat these—they're minced meat, easy to digest. Chew well. Two more dishes still need reheating; dinner will be ready soon."

"Alright!"

Seeing the meat—especially such appetizing meatballs—Li Heng didn't hesitate; he grabbed one with his chopsticks and plopped it into his bowl, devouring it with gusto.

As he ate, he sincerely praised: "Your cooking is better than mine. Whoever marries you will have earned the blessings of eighteen generations of ancestors."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe smiled lightly, saying nothing, her clear black eyes fixed unblinking on the glutinous rice chicken warming in the pot.

After eating two meatballs, the hunger eased slightly, and Li Heng finally paused to help serve the dishes, set out bowls, and hand out chopsticks.

"Huh? Where's Yu Laoshi?" he asked once everything was ready.

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe replied: "In our room."

As soon as she spoke, she sensed something odd and glanced sideways at him.

Seeing his expression unchanged, his eyes fixed on the glutinous rice chicken with longing, Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe couldn't help but laugh, untied her apron, and headed toward the guest room.

"Teacher, dinner's ready," she called softly at the door.

"Okay."

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng responded verbally but didn't lift her head or move—she was utterly absorbed, too engrossed to stir; her earlier reply had been purely instinctive.

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe was surprised; she glanced back at Li Heng, who had already stolen a bite of glutinous rice chicken, thinking: Is his new book really this good? In just moments, Yu Laoshi was lost in it.

After waiting a while, she didn't enter the room but returned to the table, sat down elegantly, and fixed her gaze on his mouth.

Li Heng blinked. "Ah, Comrade Zhou Zhou Shihe, don't look at me like that—I'm nervous! I didn't steal any food!"

A flicker of amusement passed through Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe's eyes; she didn't expose him, but asked curiously: "What's your new book about?"

Li Heng answered: "Realist fiction."

Seeing her still watching him, intrigued, he added: "In my concept, it mainly tells the generational feud between two families, depicting over half a century of historical change from the late Qing Dynasty to the 1970s and 80s."

He outlined his main ideas; Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe gazed into his eyes, momentarily lost in thought.

After a long pause, having finished speaking, Li Heng waved his hand in front of her, teasing himself: "Am I not incredibly talented?"

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe's long eyelashes fluttered slightly in response to his gesture; she smiled but said nothing.

"Ah, Yu Laoshi still hasn't come out—I'm going to starve to death even though I'm so talented," Li Heng glanced toward the guest room.

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe stood up. "I'll go call her again."

"No, forget it—it's only over ten thousand words, she'll finish in a flash. Let's wait a bit longer," Li Heng reached out and grabbed her arm.

Both froze, staring at their hands touching.

Two seconds later, Li Heng casually released her wrist, saying: "Sit down. She'll be out soon."

"Okay," Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe sat as instructed.

Moments passed in silence; neither spoke.

Three minutes later, Li Heng couldn't resist and picked up a meatball: "I think this piece isn't that great—I'll just eat it first."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe didn't react.

Li Heng said: "Say something, or I'll feel guilty eating alone."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe turned her head away, not looking at him, a faint, almost imperceptible smile curling at her lips.

After a moment, Li Heng boldly declared: "I'll take that as your silence of consent—I'm eating now."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe still didn't speak, but faint chewing sounds reached her ears.

Half a minute later, Li Heng smacked his lips: "I'm done. You can turn around now."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe looked at him—only then did she notice a meatball had appeared in her own bowl.

Li Heng said: "No need to thank me—I ate two in one go."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe laughed—she'd never met anyone who could turn eating into such pure joy.

Two more minutes passed; movement came from the guest room, and Yu Laoshi emerged.

As soon as she sat down, Yu Yu Yu Shuheng said: "It's wonderful. Compared to your previous two books, I like this one better—it's more captivating. Just the opening made me desperate to keep reading."

Li Heng thanked her.

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng picked up her chopsticks, urged them to eat, then asked: "How long do you plan for this book to be?"

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe looked over. Hearing Yu Laoshi's praise, she decided she'd read it after dinner.

Meeting both women's gazes, Li Heng chose his words carefully: "At least five hundred thousand words. The final length will depend on how the writing goes."

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng was slightly surprised: "That long?"

"Yes, a long novel. When I finish, I'll rest properly. And I hope it brings me one or two honors."

Now the three were inseparable, their bond deeply familiar—Li Heng spoke without restraint.

For the first time seeing his ambition, Yu Yu Yu Shuheng and Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe exchanged glances, their anticipation for this novel growing stronger.

This dinner became his monologue—he talked nonstop.

The two women listened carefully, occasionally interjecting questions—until the leftover food had gone completely cold.

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng's eyes held a faint gleam as she looked at him; after a long moment, she arranged: "Zhou Zhou Shihe, I know you're hooked—wash your hands and go read in your room. I'll wash the dishes."

Then to Li Heng: "It's past eight—take a shower. When Zhou Zhou Shihe finishes reading, we'll take a walk together at the alley entrance."

"Okay."

Li Heng and Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe both stood up, each attending to their own tasks.

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng's gaze followed his back until it disappeared. At this moment, still not fully returned from the world of the book, she finally understood her friend Tian Run'e's feelings.

There truly are geniuses born of heaven.

Yu Laoshi thought so.

Ten thousand words looked quick to read; she finished them in less than fifteen minutes, but after finishing, Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe felt a hollow emptiness—there was nothing left to read. She sat on the sofa for a long time, then slowly reread the entire manuscript from start to finish.

After finishing the second reading, Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe returned the manuscript to its place and tidied up the messy desk.

She was beginning to understand now—why Suisui couldn't control herself.

After organizing the room and cleaning the floor, Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe stepped out and saw Li Heng doing push-ups.

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng sat on the nearby sofa, sipping coffee slowly and elegantly from a cup.

Seeing Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe, she asked, "Zhou Zhou Shihe, would you like a cup?"

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe gave a slight shake of her head. "No, I won't sleep if I drink it at night."

"Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty."

Li Heng completed exactly sixty push-ups, exhaled deeply, stood up, and asked, "Want to go for a walk?"

"Let's go." Yu Yu Yu Shuheng finished her remaining coffee, picked up an umbrella, and stepped out of the courtyard first.

Snow still fell outside, layer upon layer striking the ground in dense, relentless sheets.

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe also took an umbrella and asked him if he wanted one.

Li Heng waved it off. "I love snowy days—even though they often freeze me half to death, I'm strangely fond of them."

His words brought a person to Yu Yu Yu Shuheng's mind—and stirred the same person in Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe's heart.

Walking down the alley, the three soon reached its mouth, where the street was bustling with traffic, even livelier than expected.

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng sighed. "The day after tomorrow is New Year's Eve. Many shops are closed, but others are busier than ever."

Li Heng asked, "Teacher, do you miss home?"

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng shook her head. "Not much. I've spent so many New Years at home—this is the first time away, and it feels fresh."

She turned to Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe. "Zhou Zhou Shihe, what about you?"

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe paused a moment. "I'm fine. I just miss my grandmother—her health isn't good."

Li Heng felt a pang of guilt. "After the New Year's Eve dinner on the first, I'll take you back."

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng shook her head. "I didn't buy a flight ticket for the first. All my tickets are for the morning of the second. I'll take Zhou Zhou Shihe."

"You're busy writing, and there's so much at home—go take care of your affairs first, then come back and write in peace."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe agreed. "I'm heading the same way as Teacher. Li Heng, just fly straight to Changsha. We'll meet on the ninth."

Seeing the two women's serious expressions and remembering his own burdens, Li Heng hesitated, then finally agreed.

After half an hour of walking, Li Heng was covered in a thick layer of snow. Eventually, Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe handed him her umbrella and shared one with Yu Laoshi.

They returned home past nine—late already.

Li Heng shook off the snow, entered, and asked Yu Yu Yu Shuheng, "Teacher, I plan to visit Wang Laoshi's house in the first lunar month. Do you have anything you'd like me to bring?"

Yu Yu Yu Shuheng's face remained expressionless. "No. It's a festive New Year—I don't want to see her. Don't mention her to me."

"Huh?"

Li Heng was bewildered. Just moments ago, Yu Laoshi had been chatting so easily—why the sudden change?

Had she and Wang Laoshi broken things off again?

After drinking a cup of hot tea and chatting briefly with the two women, Li Heng retreated to his room again. Today felt good—he wanted to strike while the iron was hot and write Chapter Two.

How many words would Chapter Two reach? He set no limit. He wrote as much as he could, without pressure.

Past eleven at night, Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe, having washed up, crept in quietly.

She moved with extreme care—even closing the door inch by inch, determined to make no sound.

Sensing her caution, Li Heng smiled. "It's not that delicate. Do what you normally do. No need to tiptoe."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe smiled silently, then walked toward the bed under his gaze—but halfway there, she stopped.

After a moment's hesitation, she turned and walked to his desk, asking softly, "When you're writing, what does Seeing Mai Sui usually do for you?"

Li Heng said, "Sometimes she refills my tea."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe asked, "That's it?"

Li Heng said, "That's it."

Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe was slightly surprised. "She doesn't follow your work?"

"Follow my work?" His first thought was his high school English teacher. But of Seeing Mai Sui, he said, "Sometimes, Seeing Mai Sui keeps a distance from me."

As perceptive as Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe was, she understood instantly.

Before Seeing Mai Sui's feelings had been exposed, she had avoided staying in his study for psychological reasons.

After her feelings were revealed, burdened by guilt and pressure, she usually waited outside in the living room and never entered the study unless he called her.

In short: Seeing Mai Sui had locked herself in a cage—close to him, but never too close.

As time passed and she grew older, she gradually read something in the eyes of the men around her: heat, longing, allure.

Seeing Mai Sui knew her own nature—she had an extraordinary allure toward men. On several occasions, after prolonged close proximity, Li Heng had instinctively reached out to wrap his arms around her waist—but he always controlled himself.

If she stayed too long with him in a confined space, she feared she might influence him—disturb his writing, cloud his thoughts, make him cross the line when emotion overwhelmed reason.

Seeing Mai Sui wasn't distrustful of him—she simply couldn't convince her own heart.

As for Li Heng and Seeing Mai Sui, Zhou Zhou Zhou Shihe's nature meant she wouldn't say more. She only said gently, "If you need my help, call me."

"Thank you," Li Heng replied.

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Post first, revise later.

Already posted 10,800 characters. Will continue tomorrow.

(End of chapter)