Chapter 98: The Arrival in October (Subscription Request!)

Throughout history, there have been wrongly chosen names, but never wrongly chosen nicknames.

The reason he’s called “Deficient in Mind” is that he often speaks and acts without thinking.

Sure enough, just as Li Heng was about to warn him, this fool blurted out his true thoughts:

“That’s right—in my heart, Song Yu is definitely the prettiest in our school.”

Seeing Li Heng, Xiao Feng, and Yang Ying all fix their gazes on him, Zhang Zhiyong finally realized his mistake and hastily added: “Xiao Han is just as beautiful.”

Having gotten the answer she wanted, Li Lan studied her younger brother with a meaningful gaze.

Earlier, she had thought the group had suddenly fallen silent because of her presence—either because she had a fearsome face,

or because these people were secretly hiding something.

What could they possibly be hiding?

When her gaze swept past Xiao Han, Li Lan’s thoughts shifted, leading to her earlier test.

But who was Li Heng? A seasoned veteran—could she possibly control him?

He reached into his second sister’s pocket, pulled out a small packet of five-spice melon seeds, and said to Yang Ying in front: “Old Rag, switch seats with me.”

“Oh, okay. Who are you calling Old Rag?” Yang Ying’s initial reaction was flat; her later one was fierce.

Just like Deficient in Mind, calling her “Old Rag” privately was habitual—but saying it aloud made it instantly sharp.

Li Heng smiled. “Don’t react so strongly. There’s no one else here—we’re all close.”

Saying this, he stood up, and under the watchful eyes of his second sister, Zhang Zhiyong, and Xiao Feng, switched seats with Yang Ying and sat beside Xiao Han.

Li Lan narrowed her eyes, studying her younger brother intently.

Seeing Honey sit beside her out of nowhere, Xiao Han’s body tensed more than ever—her crush’s sister was right there; this was far too intimate.

Unprepared, she felt like she was suffocating.

But when Li Heng placed a peeled melon seed right at her lips, Xiao Han first froze in dumb surprise, then her tense body instantly softened into pure joy.

Gazing tenderly at the seed at her lips, her face flushed, she finally obeyed his wish, parting her lips slowly and delicately to take it in.

Watching this, Zhang Zhiyong nearly screamed: “Holy shit! Holy shit! Heng Da Ye, you’re a master!”

Xiao Feng and Yang Ying exchanged glances, equally stunned, then both women instinctively glanced at Li Lan.

As expected, Li Lan’s shock was greater than anyone else’s—she stared blankly at her brother and Xiao Han, her expressive face now utterly blank, as if turned to stone.

In her mind, only two thoughts remained:

How did he manage to win over such a beautiful girl?

Has the world gone mad? Hasn’t Xiao Han of Qianzhen even heard the scandal between my brother and Chen Zijin?

The melon seeds kept being fed—Li Heng one, Xiao Han one, Li Heng another, Xiao Han another.

He fed her all the way to Jianhua, taking her from shy to numb, then from numb back to shy.

As the car’s gasoline smell grew stronger, Yang Ying and Zhang Zhiyong began to feel motion sickness at varying degrees; Li Heng felt it slightly too. He placed the remaining seeds in Xiao Han’s hand: “Peel them yourself. I’m going to nap.”

“Are you motion sick?” Xiao Han asked, concerned.

“Mm.”

“Bad?”

“Not too bad. From experience, I just need to sleep.”

Hearing this, Xiao Han said: “Then sleep well. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

“Mm.”

Saying “mm” again, Li Heng, who hadn’t slept well last night, slowly closed his eyes—and soon fell asleep.

At first, he leaned against the seatback, but as the car moved, his body gradually slumped. By the time they reached Liudouzhai, his head had unconsciously drooped onto Xiao Han’s right shoulder.

Seeing this, Xiao Han sighed in exasperation, adjusted her posture slightly to lower her shoulder, then noticed the sunlight outside was too harsh—so she gently covered his eyes with her palm, letting him sleep peacefully.

After doing all this, she felt several pairs of eyes staring intensely at her back.

But Xiao Han pretended not to notice. She took a deep breath of cool air, deliberately turning her gaze outward, letting her eyes wander freely across the vast fields, matching her joyful mood.

It felt as if a voice echoed among the mountains: Mr. Li, I love you! Do you love me too?

Books always say love makes one lose one’s head—this moment, she felt it deeply again.

So she didn’t want to wake up. She preferred to drown in this boundless joy until death.

Because she feared that if she woke, she’d have no face to show her hometown folk, and would be killed by her brother’s second sister and friends’ stares!

Li Lan had initially felt a bit smug—but now she felt like she’d swallowed a fly.

Hadn’t she just indirectly helped this kid?

I’m still single, and you’re cutting down one after another like harvesting weeds—the gap is too great, too great for her to accept.

Her good mood vanished; the melon seeds lost their flavor. Li Lan tucked the half-eaten packet back into her pocket and whispered to Yang Ying beside her: “When did they get together?”

Yang Ying answered honestly: “This level of intimacy—it’s the first time today.”

Hearing this, Li Lan felt even more depressed.

Passing through the county, another hour would bring them to Shaoshi. Before reaching the station, Li Lan shouted ahead:

“Driver, step on it—we’re getting off!”

The car screeched to a halt.

The driver seemed to know Li Lan and asked curiously: “Sis, you always get off at the station—why today?”

Li Lan did this for Xiao Han’s sake, but of course she wouldn’t say so. She lied casually: “My classmate lives nearby—I’m going to their house.”

Sure enough, the moment Li Lan got off, Xiao Han’s calm face relaxed visibly—she still didn’t know how to face his family, what role to assume.

Girlfriend?

She felt something was still missing—her dreams hadn’t been fulfilled.

She had fantasized about this role for five or six years. If she now just drifted into it blindly, she’d feel unsatisfied, disappointed.

Just a friend?

Of course not—no ordinary friend would be this shameless.

Another ten minutes passed, and the bus finally reached the bus station.

As soon as they got off, Deficient in Mind rushed to buy a pile of soda from a nearby convenience store and handed one to Xiao Han:

“Xiao Han, I—I apologize to you.”

Xiao Han smiled forgivingly, took the soda, thanked him, then said brightly: “Time to snap out of it. Don’t worry—I won’t ask you who’s prettier, me or Song Yu.”

Zhang Zhiyong sighed in relief: “Good, good—if you had, Heng Da Ye would’ve killed me.”

Xiao Han asked with a small dimple: “Is he that scary?”

Zhang Zhiyong, unusually wise: “Not scary—but you mean too much to him.”

“Really? Then who’s prettier, me or Song Yu?” Xiao Han asked, eyes twinkling.

“Uh… damn it!” Zhang Zhiyong turned red with embarrassment and fled—this question was impossible to answer; any answer was wrong.

Deficient in Mind ran off, no one knew where.

Li Heng and the others waited a while, then grew impatient and simply returned to school.

On the way, he asked Xiao Han: “Today was tiring for you—does your shoulder hurt?”

Xiao Han waved it off: “No problem.”

Li Heng asked: “Really no problem?”

Xiao Han waved again insistently: “No problem, really.”

Li Heng said: “Then I’m relieved—I’ll sleep on you again next time.”

“Huh?”

Xiao Han sighed helplessly but smiled: “It’s a little sore, but I’m fine. My skin’s thick. Let’s go back to school.”

Li Heng wasn’t stupid—he instantly understood her implication: “Thick skin? You’re calling me thick-skinned?”

Xiao Han lowered her head and walked past him without answering, but a slow, sly, tender smile curled at her lips, her eyes full of honey.

Passing through the city center, the three girls suddenly changed their minds and said they wanted to buy lingerie, forbidding him to follow—he gave up the idea of eating together.

But he wasn’t idle. As he walked along the street, he searched for a snack shop. After checking four or five stores, he finally found the dried plum candy Song Yu loved.

Last time when she won the scholarship, Sun Man wrote she wanted braised pork, Mai Sui wanted soda, and she wrote dried plums.

Soda and braised pork had already been fulfilled—but the dried plums had never been bought.

“Boss, how much for this big bag of dried plums?”

“Fifty cents.”

“I’ll take two packs.”

“Here you go.”

Putting the two packs into his backpack, Li Heng didn’t take the bus again—he took a shortcut around the back gate of Shaoyang Normal College toward No. 1 High School.

After walking for half an hour to the school gate, he happened to see his English teacher eating fried rice with egg—the teacher spotted him and waved:

“Li Heng, come eat with me.”

He’d been on a bus and walked half an hour—he was hungry. He jogged over and asked: “Teacher, treating me?”

The English teacher shook her hair, smiled, and handed him her half-eaten plate.

Li Heng recoiled two steps, sat on the nearby bench, and said: “Boss, give me a plate of fried rice with egg—extra spicy!”

“Alright, wait a moment.”

He placed his backpack on the empty bench and asked: “Teacher, why don’t you cook for yourself? Why waste money eating out?”

The English teacher scooped up a spoonful of rice, chewed slowly, then replied: “I have money.”

Hearing that answer, Li Heng could only admire.

Seeing him choked into silence, the English teacher asked, “Did you come alone?”

Li Heng replied, “No.”

The English teacher said, “Zou Editor from ‘Harvest’ magazine called this morning looking for you. Call him back later.”

Li Heng asked, “Do you know what it’s about?”

The English teacher didn’t look up, replying coolly, “That’s your business. I didn’t ask.”

Soon, his egg fried rice arrived. Li Heng stopped talking to her and bent his head to eat.

“Good afternoon, both of you. Is this Shaoshan No. 1 High School?”

As the two ate in silence, a graceful woman in her thirties, wearing a white shirt and red-rimmed glasses, approached and asked for directions.

The English teacher looked up, but with food in her mouth, she said nothing—only pointed with her chopstick tip at the gilded characters above the school gate.

The woman in white smiled awkwardly. The words “Shaoshan No. 1 High School” were large and unmistakable—she had already seen them.

She had asked for directions only as an excuse to start a conversation. After glancing over the two, she paused, then asked, “May I sit down?”

The English teacher smiled and nodded.

Granted permission, the woman in white sat at the last empty seat at their table and ordered egg fried rice: “Boss, bring me a serving of fried rice.”

Seeing Li Heng’s rice piled high with red chili peppers, she added, “No chili, please.”

The boss frowned. “Sister, how are you gonna eat it without chili?”

The boss spoke in thick local dialect, rapid and unclear. The woman in white didn’t understand and looked helplessly to the two for aid.

Li Heng translated: “The boss says it won’t taste good without chili.”

The woman in white smiled in standard Mandarin: “It’s fine. Just cook it normally—just leave out the chili.”

The boss gave the outsider a second look, then began cooking.

Soon, the new egg fried rice was ready, but the woman in white had barely taken one bite before she turned aside and burst into violent coughing.

After coughing for a long time, her previously pale, clean face turned flushed.

“No chili was added—why is it still spicy?” she asked.

Wang Run explained, “The wok and spatula have been in constant contact with chili for years. They might still carry heat.”

Staring at the bright yellow rice, the woman in white wanted to try another bite, but the scent of spice stole her courage. After a long pause, she set down her chopsticks and tentatively asked Wang Run:

“Hello. Are you a teacher here?”

Wang Run and Li Heng both looked at her.

The woman in white pulled out her work ID. “Please don’t misunderstand—I’m an editor at ‘October’ Literary Magazine. I’ve come uninvited to ask you a few questions.”

In truth, she approached Wang Run and Li Heng because their unique aura had drawn her attention.

Especially Wang Run, who wore glasses—clearly a teacher.

Hearing “October” magazine, Li Heng understood: she was here for him. But he didn’t know how she’d found out he was at Shaoshan No. 1 High School.

Had an editor from ‘Harvest’ leaked his information?

If someone had been looking, other editors at ‘Harvest’ might have traced Zou Ping’s two trips to Shaoshan No. 1 High School.

Wang Run had the same suspicion. After glancing at Li Heng, he took over: “What information?”

The woman in white asked, “Do either of you know that the author of the novel ‘To Live,’ Shiyue, is from Shaoshan?”

This wasn’t secret. Wang Run nodded.

She continued, “I heard Shiyue teaches here. I came to invite him for a submission. Do you know which teacher he is?”

Seeing Li Heng and Wang Run remain silent, the woman in white added, “If you can tell me, I’ll reward you handsomely.”

Wang Run shook his head. “Actually, no teacher here has published a novel—at least, I’ve never heard of one. A few have had articles in provincial or city newspapers, but nothing significant.”

The woman in white frowned. After a moment, she asked, “How long have you been teaching here?”

Wang Run answered, “This is my sixth year.”

Six years of teaching?

Logically, he should know everything about the school—how could he not have heard of Shiyue?

Had the information she paid dearly for been wrong? The woman in white began to doubt.

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(End of Chapter)