Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen: Three Bowls

In Li Ye’s inherited memories, his impression of Wen Leyu was not deep.

One reason was that Wen Leyu was a “quiet” girl who rarely initiated conversation.

Even if you spoke to her, she’d let you ramble for half the day before replying with just one or two brief words; some children at Liuqiao Township Primary School mocked her as “Little Mute.”

Another reason was likely that Wen Leyu’s appearance completely failed to match the aesthetic standards of the era; back then, Li Ye was only focused on Lu Jingyao, thus overlooking this pearl among sand, this uncut jade.

Looking at film stars from the 1970s and 1980s, they all had “full-moon” round faces.

At the very least, they had oval faces, plump figures, radiating strong vitality and health.

For example, Liu Xiaoqing in “Little Flower,” Cong Shan in “The Herdsman,” or the Queen of the Women’s Kingdom in “Journey to the West,” and so on.

Yet faces like Lin Daiyu’s from “Dream of the Red Chamber” were exceedingly rare.

But Wen Leyu had a small palm-sized face, with eyes so large they dominated most of her facial space, creating a unique kind of beauty.

This gave people an illusion: at first glance, she was striking, but upon closer thought, she seemed less impressive than xxx.

Moreover, from Wen Leyu’s face and hands, it was clear her skin had nothing to do with the era’s ideal of “rosy” complexion.

Wen Leyu’s skin was a pure, slightly sickly white—later generations would idolize this as “cold white skin,” but in this era, it was typically associated with malnutrition and “not eating enough.”

Add to that her emaciated frame, and by accident, she was categorized among “pitiful children”—beautiful, yes, but hardly linked to the era’s definition of “peerless beauty.”

Yet if this Wen Leyu were placed forty years into the future, she would be a true embodiment of a beauty cursed by heaven.

Pale, young, slender, with large Kazzlan eyes—if judged carefully, Wen Leyu was essentially a composite of the best traits of several famous long-legged, small-faced beauties from later generations.

But Wen Leyu was younger than them, more innocent, less world-weary, as pure and translucent as a flower bud glistening with morning dew.

Is it too much to ask for a second glance at a girl like this?

So when Li Ye noticed Wen Leyu stealing glances at him, he turned his head and waited quietly for her to look over.

Perhaps the wheels of fate had begun to turn, or perhaps a romantic spark had just ignited—no sooner had Li Ye assumed his pose than Wen Leyu’s gaze drifted toward him.

Wen Leyu clearly froze.

But unlike most girls of the era, she did not shyly turn away; instead, she met Li Ye’s gaze calmly.

In his past life at eighteen, Li Ye would never have dared to hold the gaze of a beauty like Wen Leyu—he’d have blushed and stammered within seconds.

But in this life, his psychological age totaled dozens of years, and his body was tall, elegant, and refined; whether staring at a girl for seconds, minutes, or hours, he felt no guilt.

Then Li Ye was startled—he suddenly realized Wen Leyu had eyes that could speak.

Wen Leyu’s gaze began friendly, but as Li Ye gazed back openly, her beautiful brows slowly furrowed, her eyes grew puzzled, then... finally, a hint of shy annoyance emerged.

“Long time no see?”

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Still staring?”

“How did you become so bold?”

“........”

Li Ye’s eyes couldn’t speak, but he could smile.

How could one not savor the legendary eyes that could speak?

“Cough—”

“Pay attention!”

A light cough from the podium broke the tangled gaze, pulling both back to their textbooks.

Li Ye calmly continued reading the text aloud, but Wen Leyu pressed her lips tightly, as if angry.

No one knew who she was angry at.

“Now I’ll give you some test questions—write your answers on paper and hand them in later.”

After finishing the reading, Teacher Ke turned and began writing questions on the blackboard.

At first, students in Class One could jot down answers easily, but soon many grew baffled; eventually, most scratched their heads in confusion.

Li Ye immediately understood: Teacher Ke’s questions progressed from easy to hard, designed to assess the class’s English foundation.

Judging by the students’ reactions, the results would surely be disappointing.

Li Ye casually scanned the blackboard, his fountain pen never stopping, answers flowing smoothly onto his notebook.

Suddenly, he felt something and turned to look at his desk partner.

Wen Leyu stared at Li Ye’s notebook, then at Li Ye, then back at the notebook—clearly bewildered, disbelieving.

Even if she didn’t know the English level of students at County No. 2 High, she knew Lu Jingyao’s level; if all County No. 2 students were this good, how could Lu Jingyao have scored top in the entire county just months ago?

“Students who haven’t finished, keep working; those who have, hand in your papers.”

Teacher Ke glanced again at Wen Leyu and Li Ye, giving her daughter an irritated look.

Wen Leyu pulled her gaze from Li Ye and quickly wrote answers on her paper, finishing all the questions in short order.

The two handed in their papers one after the other, sparking murmurs.

“Did Li Ye finish?”

“Did he turn in a blank paper?”

“That new girl, Wen what’s-her-name, turned hers in too? Is she that good? I only got halfway.”

“You got halfway? You didn’t just guess, did you...”

“Of course you guessed—you didn’t even do that much!”

Not only did Class One disbelieve Li Ye—even Teacher Ke, upon seeing his answers, felt doubtful.

She was a professional; one glance told her the accuracy rate, and Li Ye’s fluent English handwriting looked nothing like someone who’d just begun learning English.

Li Ye didn’t notice Teacher Ke’s doubt—he was following Wen Leyu back to the rear of the classroom, captivated by the sway of her hips.

Back then, clothes had no concept of tightness or shaping—they were all bulky and loose, completely concealing figures.

But Li Ye, with his seasoned eyes honed by countless films, judged her body proportions solely from the height of her waist’s sway.

Long legs—absolutely long legs. At 1.7 meters tall, she had over a meter of leg—truly strange.

Of course, in this era, long legs weren’t nearly as prized as in later generations; Wen Leyu’s height of over 1.7 meters wasn’t even considered an advantage by many.

In the 1980s, a man at 1.75 meters was considered tall; over half were under 1.7 meters; a handsome youth like Li Ye at 1.8 meters was an abnormal rarity.

Similarly, a girl at 1.6 meters in the 1980s already seemed tall.

Wen Leyu’s height of over 1.7 meters was like a girl at 1.85 meters in later generations—a definite disadvantage in the marriage market. (This is true, backed by marriage statistics, though most people were unaware.)

【Truly a cross-temporal blessing!】

Sitting beside Wen Leyu brought a small comfort to Li Ye, who’d felt dull and lonely since his reincarnation.

“Sssss~”

A small note was quietly slid to Li Ye by Wen Leyu.

Li Ye looked: it read, “Are you going to take the exam for Beijing to find Lu Jingyao?”

Li Ye paused—he hadn’t expected the cold, aloof Wen Leyu to be so gossipy.

Without hesitation, he wrote on the note: “No, Lu Jingyao and I are finished. We have no connection.”

Wen Leyu fell silent for several seconds, then slid the note back: “If you want to take the exam for Lu Jingyao’s school, I can help you.”

Li Ye replied instantly: “No, I’m taking the exam for Qingbei.”

“........”

The always calm and composed Wen Leyu was stunned; she stared blankly at Li Ye, her small mouth open, unable to close for a long time.

Finally, she hesitantly wrote a few words on the note: “How many bowls of rice can you eat?”

Li Ye replied honestly: “Three bowls. Must be piled high.”