Chapter 583

The subway station was brightly lit.

In the spacious station hall, only sporadic footsteps and the distant roar of a train entering the station remained.

Passing through the security checkpoint, they arrived in front of the turnstiles.

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

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 tightly pursed, her head bowed, and her long eyelashes cast a small, quiet shadow under her eyes.

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

"Oh, oh." Zhang Yan replied subconsciously.

Her gaze moved slowly upward, lingering on that handsome face for less than half a second before falling away quickly, like a startled little deer.

The corner of her eye fell involuntarily onto their clasped hands.

From the intersection to here, a short distance of 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 and coursing through her entire body.

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

Is this a dream?

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

◆￠o

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

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

After a long while.

Tang Song finally loosened his grip slowly; the warm touch vanished abruptly, leaving Zhang Yan's heart feeling empty.

"Get some good rest. Tomorrow is Saturday, I'll come find you early to hang out."

"Mm." Zhang Yan replied in a low voice, truly not knowing what to say, and not daring to say anything 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 "snap."

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, blankly watching his departing back.

Just like that, like those countless days and nights in the past, she watched his back from afar, quietly, as it drifted further 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 stopped.

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

Their gazes met in the air.

Zhang Yan felt like a student caught cheating on an exam by a teacher, instantly lowering 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 the road."

"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 still stood in place, and it wasn't until the roar of a train entering the station and the appearance of a sparse crowd emerging again that she came back to her senses.

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

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

"Bang—click—"

The old security door was shut firmly.

"Meow~ meow~" Orange emerged from somewhere, affectionately rubbing its head against her ankles, 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 was not a dream!

Recalling the scenes from tonight, from him appearing downstairs holding Orange, to the two of them reading comics 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 evade it in her heart, she realized that Tang Song had truly seen her messages on QQ.

He knew all the thoughts she had kept to herself over these years.

He even knew where she lived.

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

He had actually come to Yangcheng.

How did he become the way he is now?

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 trousers.

A moment later, she seemed to remember something.

She scrambled to take her phone out of her pocket and opened the chat window 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 tap the input box.

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

After sending the message, she seemed to have used up all her strength, slowly sliding down the wall to the floor, breathing heavily.

Immediately after, 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 warmth of his palm seemed to still be clearly lingering there.

Orange came up to her side and curled up, occasionally sweeping its tail against her, seemingly sharing in its owner's joy.

"Ding-dong—" The WeChat notification sound rang out.

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

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

Afterward, she raised her head, looked at the rental apartment filled with the messy traces of the dinner, stood up in a hurry, and began 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, placing every book in order—she was like a tireless little bee, cleaning every corner earnestly, striving to make this small room look more presentable.

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

Afterward, when her gaze fell upon 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 stubborn mold spots to grow in the corners and vents.

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 dilapidated hardware look brand new.

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

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

She didn't know how much time had passed.

"Ding-dong—" The WeChat notification sound rang out 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 that "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 her phone away, tried hard to calm her heartbeat, and continued working.

Because she was usually very attentive to hygiene, the room wasn't actually dirty or messy.

She stayed busy until past one in the morning before she could consider the entire room thoroughly cleaned.

After washing up, Zhang Yan lay 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 illuminated her dazed 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.

After the room went pitch black again and the screen lit up repeatedly several times.

She finally succumbed to sleepiness and fell into a deep slumber.

Today was longer than the past month combined.

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

Before she knew it, the sound of even breathing filled the quiet room.

She had a long, warm dream.

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

Jay's "Rainbow" was playing on the classroom speakers, the slightly melancholic melody flowing through the air like the wind.

The windows were open, and the cool breeze unique to the school building, mixed with the scent of chalk dust and grass, drifted through the hallway, gently blowing the math test paper in front of her and 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, I missed one of the easy big questions."

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

There were less than two months left until the high school entrance exam, yet 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 most likely only be able to go to the Second High School.

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

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

Her deskmate tapped her desk with his pen, then tilted his head, smiled, and lowered his voice to say, "Zhang Yan, haven't you heard? The math teacher graded the scores backward this time. If you rotate your test paper 180 degrees, that's your real score."

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

It was still 69.

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

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

Before she knew it, Zhang Yan was laughing along with him, shyly and softly.

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

Afterward, her deskmate put his book away, looked at her, and encouraged her earnestly: "It's okay, Zhang Yan. The Second High School is actually pretty good too. If you study hard, you'll definitely be able to get into a good university. Keep it up!"

"Keep it up."

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

Sunlight spilled in through the gaps in the curtains, casting mottled light and shadows on the yellowing walls.

Zhang Yan slowly opened her eyes amidst a series of urgent meows.

First, she stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment, then checked 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 had 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 her heart, which had been calm from deep sleep, began to pound wildly again.

It really wasn't a dream.

She lowered her head to look at Orange beside her, and the dreamlike scenes from last night uncontrollably surged into her mind again.

Her cheeks, which had still been 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~" Orange, starving, let out an even louder protest.

Just then.

"Ding-dong—"

The WeChat notification sound rang out.

【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 with "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 wonderful, yet most chaotic morning she had spent 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 had never had the habit of wearing makeup, and rarely bought high-end clothes.

The outfit she was wearing was already her most presentable, yet it was just a slightly more expensive piece of work attire.

In front of Tang Song, it really wasn't much to show.

But it was too late for anything now.

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

After finishing all this, she sat in the living room, unable to sit still.

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

As the time drew closer, her heartbeat became more rapid.

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

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

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

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

Seeing her standing there motionless, Auntie Wang immediately leaned in 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 and have a meal with us at noon!"

Auntie Wang was a famously warm-hearted person; ever since she found out Zhang Yan was single, she had been thinking about introducing her excellent nephew to her. Upon 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 my, don't be shy!" Auntie Wang took her hand and began to praise him incessantly: "A-Guang is about your age,

and 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 directly interrupt the elder's enthusiasm.

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

"Zhang Yan!"

Zhang Yan's body jolted, and she quickly lifted her head to look at him, her gaze somewhat dazed.

Auntie Wang also looked over curiously, and then saw the young man walking toward them; her eyes widened instantly.

Tang Song was wearing a low-key casual outfit, but his extremely outstanding appearance and temperament were still exceptionally 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.

An awkward expression appeared on Auntie Wang's face.

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

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

Compared to him, her nephew was not even in the same league.

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 some of the local delicacies."

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

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

Tang Song turned his head to look at her, his pace pausing imperceptibly. When Zhang Yan caught up to walk 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 slender, powerful hand with its distinct knuckles held hers bit by bit.

"Thump, thump, thump—"

Her heartbeat sounded like a heavy drum, 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 from the south, her skin was white, delicate, and warm, 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 gave her an innocent and gentle temperament.

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

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

Tang Song chuckled, held her hand, and stepped forward, asking naturally: "Where should we go to eat?"

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

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

"Oh, oh—"

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

Every time they turned, every time they avoided pedestrians, they would inevitably tug on each other's hands.

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

After ordering breakfast, they sat down facing each other.

Zhang Yan immediately sat up straight, placing her hands awkwardly on her knees, lowering her head, 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 the scenery, landmarks, and food culture of Yangcheng.

After all, Zhang Yan had lived here for over two years, so she knew a lot about these things.

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

Seeing her changes, 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 strangers" was perhaps the most fitting. So many years had passed, with too much time and blank space in between; even if there had been feelings in their youth, being alone together would inevitably be a bit awkward.

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, to get familiar with her all over again.

Slowly finding back that natural closeness lost to time.

Soon, the steaming rice noodle rolls were served.

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

★co

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

That alluring 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 appeared on Zhang Yan's face.

After finishing breakfast, the two strolled around the nearby vegetable market before returning to Zhang Yan's rental apartment.

"Meow—" Orange darted out from under the sofa like a small 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 mottled wall of the balcony and the rusty old windows, and an embarrassed look 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 had been exposed to the sun and rain for years, 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 gentler.

"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 beside him, her body stiff, 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 placing it naturally 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, looked at her delicate features, and felt 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 stopped 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 trace of imperceptible inquiry and hesitation.

The book was finished, should he be leaving now?

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

"I have something to take care of, 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 windows, 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 bathed in the afternoon sun, his pace light, even jogging.

His whole being radiated a youthful and unrestrained, vigorous aura.

The "boy" in her memory who was passionate, clean, and radiant had finally broken free from the dullness and oppression.

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

A layer of crystalline 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 quickly to the living room, and stood nervously by the door.

When clear footsteps came from 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 then froze.

One large bucket was printed with "High-Efficiency Anti-Seepage, Waterproof, and 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 don't have anything to do today, so I'll help you fix the wall; I know a bit about this."

"Ah!" Zhang Yan let out a low cry, shaking her head and waving her hands vigorously, speaking incoherently: "No, no need, 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 fine, it's no trouble. Besides, I haven't done this work in 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 out? With a man and a woman working together, the work won't be tiring."

Zhang Yan stammered for a while, looking at his sincere, smiling eyes, and in the end, didn't dare to argue anymore.

She picked up the plastic bag containing the tools and followed him into the bathroom 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 the year-round dampness and poor ventilation, the wall surface was peeling and flaking off in large areas, revealing the mottled, ugly cement underneath.

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

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 large 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 after it's applied."

"Before painting, this waterproof primer is 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—"

While working, he used a relaxed tone to explain some renovation knowledge to her.

The bathroom was very small, about 4 square meters, and the wall surface 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 mottled wall surface 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 a roller.

Zhang Yan followed him, initially 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, blankly watching the figure stained with sweat and white latex paint.

The roller rubbed 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, and 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 his movements, 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 trance, she felt that a similarly mottled, damp corner in her heart.

Was being repaired by him in the gentlest, most quiet way, bit by bit.