Chapter 582: Repair

The subway station was brightly lit.

In the vast station hall, only sporadic footsteps and the distant roar of a train pulling into the station remained.

Passing through the security checkpoint, they arrived before the turnstiles.

Tang Song stopped, his right hand still holding her left.

The initial chill on Zhang Yan's hand had long since been warmed by him, even becoming slightly hot, as if she were holding a small hand warmer.

He lowered his head to look at Zhang Yan.

She was blushing, her lips pressed tight, her head lowered, casting a small, quiet shadow with her long eyelashes beneath her eyes.

"We're here, I have to go." Tang Song's voice broke the silence.

"Oh, oh." Zhang Yan replied subconsciously.

Her gaze slowly moved upward, lingering on his handsome face for less than half a second before dropping quickly, like a startled fawn.

The corner of her eye couldn't help but fall on their clasped hands.

From the intersection to here, a distance of only a few hundred meters, they had walked for over ten minutes.

With every step, every second, she felt as if a faint electric current was traveling from her palm through her entire body.

That unprecedented sense of reality kept her mind in a state of blankness.

Is this a dream?

Yet, even in her boldest dreams, she had never dared to imagine such a scene.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

The subway station was sparsely populated, and the two of them just stood there, holding hands, quietly in front of the turnstiles.

After a long while.

Tang Song finally loosened his grip slowly; the warmth of that touch vanished suddenly, leaving Zhang Yan's heart feeling empty.

"Rest well. Tomorrow is Saturday, I'll come find you early to hang out."

"Mm." Zhang Yan responded in a low voice, truly not knowing what to say, nor daring to say much more.

Tang Song smiled and waved at her, took out his phone, and swiped his card to enter the station.

The turnstile gate opened and closed with a "clack."

His hard-soled leather shoes tapped against the ground, making a crisp "clack-clack" sound.

Only then did Zhang Yan have the courage to fully lift her head, staring blankly at his departing back.

Just like that, as in those countless days and nights of the past, she watched his back from afar, quietly, as it drifted away bit by bit.

Meeting again after more than two years.

His changes were immense and unfamiliar, yet at this moment, they were also familiar.

Just then, that back, which had already walked far away, suddenly paused.

He turned his head and looked back at her from a distance.

Their gazes met in the air.

Zhang Yan, like a student caught cheating on an exam by a teacher, instantly lowered her head in a panic.

Her hands were clenched tightly in front of her, her heart pounding wildly.

Tang Song, however, turned around and walked back to the turnstile, looking at her.

"I'll send you a message when I get to the hotel," his voice was clear and gentle. "Send me a message when you get home, too."

"Mm."

"Be careful on the way back, watch where you're going."

"Mm."

"See you tomorrow."

Zhang Yan's eyes trembled violently, her lips moved, and she silently replied, "See you tomorrow."

Only then did Tang Song truly turn around and walk toward the depths of the subway station.

Until his figure completely disappeared around the corner.

Zhang Yan remained standing in place, and it wasn't until the roar of a train pulling into the station and the appearance of a sparse crowd again that she came back to her senses.

She followed the scattered people, walking outward with a drifting gait.

Passing through the dimly lit streets, through the damp night wind.

"Bang—clack—"

The old security door was shut firmly.

"Meow~ meow~" Orange emerged from somewhere, rubbing its head affectionately against her ankle, seemingly wondering why its owner was standing at the door in a daze.

"Orange."

Zhang Yan muttered to herself, then suddenly raised her hand and pinched her arm hard.

A clear sense of pain followed.

It wasn't a dream!

All of this wasn't a dream!

Recalling every scene from tonight, from him appearing downstairs holding Orange, to them reading manga side-by-side, to that scorching hand-holding at the intersection.

She covered her burning cheeks tightly, leaning weakly against the cold wall, feeling as if she were about to faint.

"How could this be? How could this be? What is going on?"

She muttered to herself in disbelief.

No matter how much she tried to escape it in her heart, she realized that Tang Song had truly seen her message on QQ.

He knew all the secrets she had kept for these years.

He even knew where she lived.

That was why he could find her accurately and quickly after seeing the WeChat message.

He had actually come to Yangcheng.

How did he become like this?

Countless doubts, immense shame, and that deep-rooted inferiority surged up instantly.

But in the end, all emotions settled on the scene of him holding her hand to cross the street.

Zhang Yan bit her lower lip hard, her fingertips rubbing unconsciously against the seam of her pants.

A moment later, she seemed to remember something.

She scrambled to take her phone out of her pocket and opened the chat box with Tang Song.

Her gaze first fell on the photo of the letter paper she had sent, and she whispered "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" in shame before daring to open the input box.

Carefully tapping the screen, she wrote: "I'm home."

After sending the message, as if she had used up all her strength, she slowly sat down on the floor along the wall, breathing heavily.

Immediately following, a belated, immense joy finally broke free from the shackles of shame and inferiority, drowning her completely like a rising tide.

She had fantasized countless times, not just about reuniting with him, but about being able to talk to him like this, in her own true name. Even if it were just a simple, most ordinary greeting.

Not to mention, they had actually held hands.

She slowly raised her left hand, looking at it intently; the temperature of that palm seemed to still be clearly lingering there.

Orange curled up beside her, occasionally brushing her with its tail, seemingly sharing in its owner's joy.

"Ding-dong—" The WeChat notification sounded.

【Tang Song: "( ( ) Received, rest early."】

Seeing this reply, especially the emoticon, Zhang Yan rubbed her cheeks and smiled foolishly.

Afterward, she looked up at this rental apartment, filled with the messy traces of the dinner party, and stood up in a hurry, beginning to take action.

Sweeping, mopping, packing up the trash left by her friends;

Wiping the tables and chairs, straightening the crooked sofa cushions one by one;

Organizing the bookshelf and desk, putting every book in order. She was like an indefatigable little bee, cleaning every corner earnestly, trying to make this small room look more decent.

After all, he had said he would come again tomorrow.

Then, when her gaze fell on the dilapidated bathroom and kitchen, the emotions that had just ignited dimmed instantly.

The bathroom and kitchen were where she used the most water; because there were no tiles on the walls or floor, the damp environment had caused mold to grow in the corners and vents that was impossible to eradicate.

And those old refrigerators, range hoods, toilets—this wasn't something that could be solved by simple cleaning.

Even the most skilled cleaner couldn't make the old hardware look brand new.

A strong sense of inferiority wrapped around her again, and tears fell "drip-drop" onto the old floor covering.

But she just wiped them away silently, put on gloves, and picked up the bleach, using a brush to stubbornly clean those stains bit by bit.

She didn't know how much time had passed.

"Ding-dong—" The WeChat notification sounded again.

She hurriedly took off her gloves and took out her phone.

【Tang Song: "I'm at the hotel, you should be asleep by now. Good night, classmate Zhang Yan, have a good dream."】

Looking at the "good night" and the familiar form of address, Zhang Yan bit her lip.

She wanted to reply, but felt a bit timid, afraid he would know she wasn't asleep yet and was waiting for his message.

She put away her phone, tried to calm her heartbeat, and continued working.

Because she usually paid great attention to hygiene, the room wasn't actually dirty or messy.

It wasn't until past one in the morning that she finished cleaning the entire room thoroughly.

Zhang Yan washed up, lay down on the bed exhausted, and turned off the lights.

She closed her eyes, but couldn't help opening them again.

In the darkness, the blue light of the screen lit up her blank cheeks.

Opening the chat interface with Tang Song, it seemed that only by looking at those few lines of simple dialogue could she confirm that everything that happened tonight was real.

The room went dark again, and after the screen lit up and went dark a few times.

She finally couldn't resist the sleepiness and fell into a deep sleep.

Today was longer than the past month.

The conflict with her boss, buying the last two volumes of manga, writing that letter, the miraculous reunion with him, chatting, reading manga, and that hand-holding...

She didn't know when, but the sound of even breathing began to fill the quiet room.

She had a long, warm dream.

It was an afternoon in middle school, the sunlight filtered by the poplar trees outside the window into fine, dappled spots, lazily spilling onto the desk.

The classroom speakers were playing Jay's "Rainbow," the slightly melancholy melody flowing in the air like the wind.

The windows were open, and the unique cool breeze of the teaching building, mixed with the smell of chalk dust and grass, passed through the hallway, gently blowing the math test paper in front of her, making a faint "rustling" sound.

She turned her head, secretly glanced at the deskmate reading beside her, and whispered, "What score did you get?"

"93, missed a freebie question."

"Oh." Her head lowered further, her gaze falling on the "69" on her own test paper. "Why am I so stupid? They were all question types I had done before..."

There were less than two months left until the high school entrance exam, but her math grades just wouldn't improve.

Tang Song was very smart; he was in the top three of the class every exam and could steadily get into the First High School.

As for her, she would likely only be able to go to the Second High School.

In this small township middle school, this was actually a pretty good result.

But she still wanted to go to the First High School.

The deskmate beside her tapped her desk with a pen, then tilted his head, smiling and lowering his voice, "Zhang Yan, haven't you heard? The math teacher graded the scores backward this time. If you rotate the test paper 180 degrees, that's your true score."

"Ah!" She turned the test paper in surprise.

It was still 69.

"Hahaha." The deskmate's laughter was clean and clear, like iced soda in summer.

He nudged her arm with his and said a few more witty remarks, making her cheeks burn.

Zhang Yan didn't know when she also started laughing shyly and softly along with him.

The heaviness that had been pressing on her heart seemed to have been blown away by the laughter.

Afterward, the deskmate put away his book, looked at her, and encouraged her earnestly: "It's okay, Zhang Yan. The Second High School is actually not bad either. If you study hard, you can definitely get into a good university. Keep it up!"

"Keep it up."

November 4, 2023, Saturday, cloudy, 21~31°C.

Sunlight spilled in through the gap in the curtains, casting dappled light and shadows on the yellowing walls.

Zhang Yan slowly opened her eyes amidst the sound of urgent meowing.

First, she stared blankly at the ceiling, then looked at the time on the wall clock.

It was already almost 8 o'clock.

Orange was clearly starving; it had jumped onto the bed at some point to remind its owner that it was time to be fed.

Zhang Yan's body jolted, as if she suddenly remembered something, and a look of panic instantly appeared on her face.

She sat up abruptly, grabbed the phone by her pillow, and unlocked the screen.

On the phone interface, the chat history with "Tang Song" from last night was lying there quietly.

Her chest began to heave violently, and that heart, which had been calm from deep sleep, began to pound wildly again.

It really wasn't a dream.

She looked down at Orange beside her, and the dreamlike scenes from last night surged into her mind uncontrollably.

Her cheeks, which were still sleepy, were quickly covered by a burning red glow.

Then, she pulled Orange into her arms and rubbed her burning cheeks against it randomly, "I... this..."

"Meow~ meow~" The starving Orange let out an even louder protest.

Just then.

"Ding-dong—"

The WeChat notification sounded.

【Tang Song: "Good morning Zhang Yan, I'll arrive at Lanxinyuan in about 30 minutes."】

Zhang Yan's heart skipped a beat; she threw Orange onto the bed and quickly replied "Okay."

Then, she put on her slippers and ran outside.

Like a wound-up rabbit, she began to tidy up in a flurry.

Making the bed, washing up quickly, changing clothes—she had been too tired and slept too soundly last night, and had actually forgotten to set an alarm.

But her eyes were filled with an irrepressible, sparkling joy.

This was probably the most beautiful and chaotic morning she had experienced in so many years.

But when she stood in front of the mirror and looked at her slightly plain self, she couldn't help but lower her head in inferiority.

She didn't have the habit of wearing makeup and rarely bought high-end clothes.

The one she was wearing was already the most decent one, but it was just a slightly more expensive piece of workwear.

In front of Tang Song, it really wasn't presentable.

But it was too late for anything now.

She could only hurriedly wash her bangs, straighten them with a flat iron, and carefully apply some moisturizing lotion to her face.

After doing all this, she sat restlessly in the living room.

Staring at the phone screen, she began to wait silently.

Time drew closer, and her heartbeat became more rapid.

She couldn't sit still anymore, walked out the door quickly, and went downstairs to wait.

At this time, the sunlight was just right, the air was slightly cool, and it was very comfortable.

Auntie Wang downstairs was watering the flowers; seeing her, she immediately greeted her enthusiastically: "Oh, Yanyan, you look so beautiful today. Have you eaten yet?"

Zhang Yan shook her head, blushing, and responded in a low voice: "Not yet."

Seeing her standing there motionless, Auntie Wang immediately leaned over with a smile, "Are you waiting for a friend?"

"Mm, yes..."

Auntie Wang said excitedly: "I told you last time, my nephew is coming to my place today. Why don't you come over for lunch too!"

Auntie Wang was a well-known busybody; ever since she found out Zhang Yan was single, she had been thinking about introducing her excellent nephew to her. Hearing this, Zhang Yan was so scared that she shook her head vigorously, waving her hands while blushing: "No need, Auntie Wang, really no need."

"Oh, don't be shy!" Auntie Wang held her hand and began to praise him endlessly: "A-Guang is about your age,

the young man is very handsome, and his job is very stable..."

Zhang Yan's lips moved, wanting to say something, but she was too embarrassed to interrupt the elder's enthusiasm directly.

Just then, a gentle, smiling call came from not far away.

"Zhang Yan!"

Zhang Yan's body jolted, she quickly looked up at him, her gaze a bit dazed.

Auntie Wang also curiously followed her gaze, and then saw the young man walking toward them; her eyes widened significantly.

Tang Song was wearing low-key casual clothes, but his extremely outstanding appearance and temperament were still very eye-catching.

Standing in the morning sunlight, he seemed to be plated with a layer of light.

Tang Song stopped beside her, "This outfit today suits you very well."

Zhang Yan was instantly at a loss, lowering her head while blushing.

Looking at Zhang Yan's appearance, then looking at the boy in front of her.

Auntie Wang showed an awkward expression on her face.

She was an experienced person, and having been a "matchmaker" for so many years, she could see the girl's thoughts clearly at a glance.

Of course, it was mainly because the boy in front of her was truly a bit too outstanding.

Compared to him, her nephew was not even close.

Noticing her gaze, Tang Song politely greeted Auntie Wang beside them.

His gaze returned to Zhang Yan, and he asked softly: "Have you had breakfast?"

Zhang Yan shook her head gently, "No."

"That's perfect, take me around to taste the food in your neighborhood."

"Okay." Zhang Yan looked up at him and nodded gently.

The two walked toward the residential complex gate one after the other, Zhang Yan always lagging behind him, following step by step.

Tang Song turned his head to look at her, his footsteps pausing imperceptibly. When Zhang Yan walked side-by-side with him due to momentum, he reached out his hand again.

At this very moment, in a completely sober state, Zhang Yan could feel it with absolute clarity.

Tang Song's hand, with its distinct joints and slender strength, held hers bit by bit.

"Thump, thump, thump—"

Her heartbeat sounded like heavy drums, and her cheeks were so red they were about to steam.

Tang Song felt the softness and slenderness in his hand, turned his head to look at Zhang Yan, and for the first time in the sunlight, examined her so earnestly.

This deskmate from middle school, perhaps because her mother was a southerner, had skin that was white, delicate, and moist, and her features were as delicate as a light ink landscape painting.

Her eyes were standard almond eyes, the corners slightly drooping, and her long eyelashes always gave her an innocent and gentle temperament.

At this moment, because of nervousness and shyness, those almond eyes seemed to be filled with misty water vapor.

Zhang Yan finally noticed his gaze, and like a startled fawn, she hurriedly turned her head away, leaving him only a bright red earlobe.

Tang Song chuckled, held her hand, and started walking, asking naturally: "Where shall we eat?"

Zhang Yan still didn't dare to look at him, pointing toward the street corner, stammering: "Beside... there's a rice noodle roll shop, it's very, very unique."

"Okay, you lead the way, don't get lost."

"Oh, oh—"

Zhang Yan quickened her pace a little and walked slightly ahead.

Every turn, every time she avoided a pedestrian, she would inevitably tug on his hand.

This scorching, palpitating touch made her heart pound all the way. Just like that, turning left and right, the two walked into a small, time-honored rice noodle roll shop.

After ordering breakfast, they sat down facing each other.

Zhang Yan immediately sat up straight, her hands placed awkwardly on her knees, her head lowered, her gaze fixed on the old texture of the table, not daring to meet his eyes.

Tang Song looked around, chatting with her in a relaxed tone about Yangcheng's scenery, landmarks, and food culture.

Zhang Yan had lived here for over two years, after all, and knew a lot about these things.

Gradually, she relaxed a lot, blushing as she chatted with him in a low voice.

Seeing her change, the smile on Tang Song's face became even brighter.

He actually knew very well in his heart.

For the two of them now, the term "most familiar stranger" was perhaps the most fitting. So many years had passed, with too much time and blank space in between; even with the friendship of their youth, it was inevitable that there would be some awkwardness when alone.

Especially for someone with Zhang Yan's introverted and sensitive personality, knowing that he had seen those secret thoughts of hers on QQ.

That embarrassment and unease needed time to be slowly adapted to and digested.

Therefore, he just wanted to start from the most daily details, like an old friend reunited after a long time, and get familiar with her again.

Slowly regaining that natural closeness lost to time. Soon, the steaming rice noodle rolls were served.

The white, tender, and bouncy rice skin was so thin it was almost transparent, and one could vaguely see the fresh, tender beef and emerald green scallions wrapped inside.

Drizzled with a special salty-sweet soy sauce, and sprinkled with a layer of fragrant cooked oil and sesame seeds.

That enticing aroma, mixed with the scent of rice, meat, and sauce, instantly whetted Tang Song's appetite.

He ate 3 portions in one go.

A smile finally gradually appeared on Zhang Yan's face.

After breakfast, the two went for a stroll around the nearby wet market before returning to Zhang Yan's rental apartment.

"Meow~" Orange darted out from under the sofa like a little cannonball.

Tang Song smiled, bent down, scooped the heavy, fat orange cat into his arms, scratched its chin, and teased it for a while.

Then, he said naturally and casually: "The weather is really nice today, let's go to the balcony and read manga together."

Zhang Yan subconsciously looked at the dappled wall of the balcony and the rusty old windows, and a look of embarrassment appeared on her face again.

"The wall isn't clean, don't, don't get your clothes dirty."

Because it was also a plain white wall, and due to years of sun and rain, the balcony wall wasn't much better than the bathroom and kitchen.

Tang Song looked at the wall, then looked at her, the smile in his eyes becoming even more gentle.

"It's okay, we'll sit closer, just don't touch the wall."

Then, he pulled the first volume of "Dragon Ball" from the bookshelf and moved two small wooden stools to the small balcony, familiar with the layout.

Zhang Yan bit her lip, looked at the two stools that were almost touching, and walked over, blushing.

She sat down stiffly beside him, their arms almost touching.

"Last time we saw Bulma let Goku dress up as a little girl to trick Oolong, but he was exposed because he stood up to pee..."

Tang Song said, flipping the manga to that page and naturally placing it between them.

At the tip of his nose was the clean scent unique to Zhang Yan, mixed with sunlight and soap.

He turned his head, looking at her delicate features, feeling the warmth of the girl beside him.

His heartbeat also gradually began to accelerate.

Before they knew it, the first volume of "Dragon Ball" had finally reached the last page.

The story ended abruptly, and the balcony fell into a brief silence.

Zhang Yan secretly and quickly lifted her eyes to look at Tang Song beside her, her gaze carrying a hint of imperceptible inquiry and hesitation.

The book was finished, was he supposed to leave now?

Tang Song gently closed the manga, turned his head, met her nervous gaze, and showed a relaxed and natural smile.

"I have something to do, I'll be back soon."

Zhang Yan really wanted to ask him where he was going and what he was doing.

But the words reached her lips and were blocked back by that deep-rooted timidity.

In the end, she could only say a soft "Mm."

Tang Song waved at her and Orange, and walked out the door with a light step.

Zhang Yan stood there in a daze for a moment, then, as if driven by something, trotted back to the balcony and looked at the street downstairs through the old window, her eyes fixed.

She counted silently in her heart, and when she reached "13," that familiar figure finally appeared on the residential complex road.

He walked on the path shrouded in the afternoon sun, his pace light, even jogging.

His whole body was overflowing with a youthful, unrestrained, and vigorous aura.

The "boy" in her memory who was passionate, clean, and glowing had finally broken free from dullness and repression.

The Tang Song she saw this time was many times better than she had hoped or imagined.

Tears gradually welled up in Zhang Yan's eyes.

It's so good that he can live so well.

She was genuinely happy for him.

She just watched quietly, motionless, until his figure disappeared around the corner of the complex.

She didn't know how much time had passed.

That familiar figure appeared in her sight again.

This time, he was carrying many things in his hands, and she couldn't see what they were.

Zhang Yan quickly came back to her senses, walked back to the living room, and stood nervously by the door.

When clear footsteps sounded in the hallway, she gently opened the door.

Soon, Tang Song walked in.

"I'm back." He said, placing the things in his hands on the floor with a "clatter."

"This is..." Zhang Yan looked at the things on the floor and was instantly stunned.

A large bucket was printed with "High-Efficiency Anti-Seepage, Waterproof, Anti-Alkali Primer," and the other bucket was written with "Odorless Eco-Friendly Waterproof Latex Paint."

There was also a shopping bag with a hardware store logo.

Noticing her stunned gaze, Tang Song explained with a smile: "I remember telling you before that my dad used to do renovations. It just so happens I have nothing to do today, so I'll help you fix the wall; I know a bit about this."

"Ah!" Zhang Yan gasped, shaking her head and waving her hands vigorously, speaking incoherently: "No, no need! I... I can find someone to fix it myself, I can't let you..."

Tang Song smiled and interrupted her gently: "It's okay, it's no trouble. Besides, I haven't done this work for a long time, and I really want to try it; it's quite fun."

He paused and winked at her playfully, "Do you want to come over and help me? Men and women working together, it won't be tiring."

Zhang Yan stammered for a while, looked at his sincere, smiling eyes, and in the end, didn't dare to refute him again.

She picked up the plastic bag containing the tools and followed him into the bathroom, the place that made her feel the most embarrassed.

The walls weren't tiled, just painted with a layer of waterproof coating that had long since yellowed.

Because of years of dampness and poor ventilation, the wall skin was peeling and flaking off in large areas, revealing the dappled, ugly cement underneath.

It was really terrible; every time Tang Song said he wanted to go to the bathroom, she would feel nervous.

Tang Song seemed not to notice her unease, naturally moving the scattered items in the bathroom to the bedroom with her.

Then, he took a blue apron out of the shopping bag, put it on, took out a roller, brush, and putty knife, and began to clean the wall surface with skilled movements.

"Look, for this kind of old wall, you must first scrape off all the peeling and loose parts, otherwise the new paint won't last long."

"Before painting, this waterproof primer is the key, especially in damp places like the bathroom and kitchen; it can prevent the wall from getting damp and moldy, and it can also make the topcoat adhere more firmly—"

He explained some renovation knowledge to her in a relaxed tone while working.

The bathroom was very small, about 4 square meters, and the wall area that needed painting was only about 10 square meters.

With Tang Song's current physical strength and coordination, doing this kind of thing was exceptionally simple and neat.

The dappled wall skin was scraped off bit by bit in his hands, revealing the gray cement base.

Tang Song stirred the primer evenly and applied it carefully with the roller.

Zhang Yan followed beside him; at first, she was still a bit nervous and timid, not knowing where to put her hands and feet.

But slowly, she was infected by his relaxation and focus.

Sometimes, she would help him pass tools; sometimes, she would help him steady the unstable little stool.

And most of the time, she just stood quietly to the side, staring blankly at the figure stained with sweat and white latex paint.

The roller rubbed repeatedly against the wall, making a low "rustling" sound.

The dilapidated bathroom was being covered and repaired bit by bit with a clean, brand-new white.

She watched, she listened.

For some reason, she couldn't help but call out his name, "Tang Song—" This was the first time she had called his name alone after many years.

Tang Song stopped, turned his head, his face still stained with a few spots of white paint, his smile bright and clean, "I'm here, what's wrong?"

"No, nothing, thank you." She lowered her head in a panic.

In a daze, she felt that a corner of her heart, equally dappled and damp,

was being repaired by him in the gentlest, most unobtrusive way, bit by bit.