Chapter 27 For the stars Teacher Wen...
When Wen Mu heard Song Xingran say he was leaving, his first reaction was relief.
Thankfully, she finally managed to sleep through the night. Song Xingran had been tossing her around so much lately; this man was like a perpetual motion machine. She was often woken up early in the morning, and she had almost forgotten what it was like to sleep alone.
Song Xingran said softly, "You seem very happy."
Wen Mu looked up and met his slightly narrowed eyes.
"No."
"I cried," she lied calmly, "it was too dark, you couldn't see."
Song Xingran took a step forward, and a shadow loomed over him: "Really?"
"no."
Wen Mu admitted it bluntly. She looked up at him, but found that the loss in his eyes was much more real than she expected.
At that moment, a corner of her heart suddenly softened.
I'm used to seeing him smiling and joking, but at this moment he seemed a little fragile.
"You," she hesitated, "can't bear to leave me?"
The morning mist in the mountains flowed between them, and the fresh fragrance of pine wood mixed with the faint scent of cologne on Song Xingran's body.
He was silent for a moment and said "hmm" softly.
Wen Mu was stunned, feeling a slight pain in his heart.
She was about to open her mouth to comfort him when she heard him continue, "I can't bear to leave you. I won't be able to see you wearing beautiful clothes in Europe anymore."
Wen Mu rolled his eyes, and the soft-heartedness he felt just now instantly disappeared.
It turned out that she was overthinking it. This kid's head was full of butter and he couldn't think of anything else except that matter.
She turned and walked towards the parking lot, hearing the man chuckling behind her.
He caught up with her in two or three steps and grabbed her wrist: "Are you angry?"
"No." She shook his hand off, but he found a gap and interlocked their fingers.
The man leaned in close, his breath spraying against her ear: "I'll be a good boy. Come and see me when you have time, okay?"
Wen Mu turned his head to look at him: "If you do what you say."
Song Xingran's eyes lit up, as if he didn't expect her to agree, and he couldn't believe it, asking, "Really?"
"Really." She nodded.
Europe is so big, the area where she is "available" can be very wide.
Song Xingran seemed to see through her thoughts and asked hesitantly, "Then, can you come to the airport to see me off?"
"What time is it?"
"Three o'clock in the afternoon."
Wen Mu quickly reviewed his schedule in his mind: "Sorry, I have a meeting this afternoon."
The man's expression darkened visibly.
"Is it important?"
“Very important.”
"More important than me?"
The question came suddenly, and there was no joking in the tone of the usual question, but an almost stubborn seriousness.
Wen Mu subconsciously wanted to avoid this question, but he felt that it was unfair to him.
"These are two different things," she said finally.
“Work is important, and so are you.”
He curled his lips and smiled: "Really?"
Wen Mu didn't answer.
Somehow, she suddenly didn't want to go along with his words to comfort him. Those frivolous jokes seemed so inappropriate at the moment, and she didn't want to appease him with lies, even if it would make the atmosphere lighter.
"I just asked casually," the man put his hands in his pockets and resumed his provocative expression. "Teacher Wen, are you serious?"
Wen Mu breathed a sigh of relief. This familiar way of getting along made her feel at ease.
"You were the first one to take it seriously." She couldn't help but defend herself.
Song Xingran leaned in closer and twirled a strand of her hair around his fingers.
"Will Teacher Wen be lonely when I'm away for so long?"
Wen Mu replied calmly: "Actually, I wasn't that lonely before I married you."
"Really?" Song Xingran narrowed his eyes. "Is that the pink toy in the third drawer of the wardrobe what Teacher Wen uses for massage?"
Wen Mu looked up suddenly.
She had bought it a year ago and only used it two or three times before putting it away. How had he found it? Was there anything in this house he hadn't searched?
Damn Husky!
She quickly composed herself: "So it's going to come in handy now, isn't it?"
Song Xingran: "You can only use it."
"What?" she asked deliberately.
He leaned in close, so close that she could count his eyelashes, and said word by word: "I said, you can only use this, and no other man."
Wen Mu couldn't help laughing: "What if I used it?"
"I'll fly back overnight," he said, his voice dangerously low, "and let you experience what it's like to be unable to leave your room."
"I mean what I say."
Wen Mu believed that he could do it.
She sighed and reached out to cup his face. His skin was warm, and after a sleepless night, a light stubble had grown on his chin, rubbing against her palm.
"Don't you believe me?" she asked softly.
Song Xingran snorted: "What do you think?"
"You were very skilled in seducing me in bed. You seemed very experienced."
Wen Mu looked at his face so close to him and suddenly stood on tiptoe.
For a moment, their lips touched.
It was clearly a very light force, but it felt like the heart was being crushed heavily.
The man froze in place, temporarily forgetting to breathe.
"I promise," she said, pulling away a little and looking him in the eyes, "I won't look for another man. Only you."
"Wait for me, huh?"
The next second, she was suddenly pulled into a strong embrace. Song Xingran's arms tightly wrapped around her waist, so strong that she could hardly breathe. Her glasses were pressed against his bulging chest muscles. The man's heartbeat could be heard through his chest, fast and heavy.
His voice was muffled in her hair: "Dare to lie to me, I'll make you pay."
Wen Mu couldn't help but curl the corners of his mouth. This threat was really his style.
"No need, don't you think I'm already pretty?"
Song Xingran let her go, looked at her carefully, then said "hmm" softly, pulled her wrist, and walked down the mountain road: "I'll take you home."
*
Wen Mu neatly stacked the meeting materials on the desk, his fingertips lightly running across the edge of the pages. His phone screen lit up.
Is he at the airport?
I picked up my phone and saw three unread messages on the lock screen.
Lgnis: [No running around, no drinking, and no not replying to my messages]
Lgnis: Take care of yourself
Lgnis: [Ready to board]
Wen Mu laughed. This kid even cared about her.
Jupiter: [Roger that. Stay safe.]
Lgnis: [Gasoline was delivered to my parents’ house]
Jupiter: [Roger that.]
Lgnis: [Didn’t I tell you not to talk to your husband like that?]
Wen Mu raised an eyebrow. This guy was looking for trouble before boarding the plane?
Jupiter: [Then how should I respond? ]
Lgnis: [You should say, Okay, husband, be careful on the road, I will miss you]
Jupiter: [……]
Lgnis: [Why? You haven't seen me for two months, can't you just fulfill a small wish of mine?]
Lgnis: [Or, Teacher Wen, would you rather I use other methods to get you to speak?]
Wen Mu's ears felt slightly warm. Even through the screen, this person reminded her of his warm breath when he spoke next to her ear.
She sighed and typed "Okay, husband" in the dialog box, but halfway through she felt it was too embarrassing, so she quickly withdrew and pressed the voice button instead.
"Husband, be careful."
She almost said this with her throat pinched.
Just as I sent it out, a figure suddenly rushed out from behind.
“How sweet!”
Wen Mu was so scared that he almost threw his phone away. He turned around and saw Yu Mo laughing so hard that she was bent over.
"Momo, you scared me to death."
"That's really rare," Yu Mo leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling. "Dr. Wen actually flirted with my husband before the meeting started?"
She looked around exaggeratedly, "Are you the workaholic I know?"
Wen Mu calmly sorted out the information: "I'm just trying to appease my brother, there's no need for so many twists and turns."
Yu Mo snorted meaningfully: "I think you'll coax yourself into jail sooner or later."
"Let's go for a drink tonight?" Wen Mu changed the subject.
"You can't drink?"
"He's not here anyway," Wen Mu shrugged nonchalantly, "It won't matter if I drink too much."
Yu Mo leaned closer with a wicked smile: "In other words, after you drank too much that night, he did something to you?"
The scene of that night emerged in Wen Mu's mind.
Song Xingran was like an insatiable wolfhound, leaving marks all over her body, even the most private parts.
She tried to push his head, but she didn't have enough strength, so she could only let him do whatever he wanted. Finally, she fell limp in his arms, drinking water from his mouth bit by bit.
"Amu, you're blushing!" Yu Mo exclaimed as if she had discovered a new world.
"It's hot." Wen Mu lowered his head to look at his notes. "It's time for a meeting."
Yu Mo laughed out loud, attracting the attention of colleagues around her.
After the meeting, the two went to a bar near the school.
Dim light filtered through the glass bottles, casting amber specks of light as jazz music drifted faintly in the background. The dark brown leather sofa was soft and comfortable, and several vintage black-and-white photographs hung on the walls.
"A cup of hot milk, thank you." Wen Mu said to the waiter.
Yu Mo shook the whiskey in her hand, and the ice cubes hit the wall of the glass with a crisp sound: "You said so confidently, but you come here to drink milk?"
"Isn't it enough that I'm scared by what you said?" Wen Mu took a sip of milk, and a circle of white foam appeared on the corners of his lips.
Yu Mo smirked: "I think you are scared by your little wolfdog."
Wen Mu rolled his eyes at her and said, "He's just too energetic."
In other words, it will be fine after the trouble.
"You're young, so it's normal to see you losing control."
Yu Mo could be said to be the second person who knew Wen Mu’s figure best. With long legs and a slim waist, she drooled at the sight of him.
"But seriously," she changed the subject, "if you keep going like this, will that Third Young Master Song fall in love with you?"
"Won't."
Wen Mu categorically denied it.
"So sure?"
"Our marriage was originally a transaction." Wen Mu's voice was as calm as if he was discussing the weather. "His parents need a daughter-in-law to control him, and I need the Song family's help. It's that simple."
"If he's truly the kind of innocent young man who's never been in a relationship, then his current interest in me is probably just temporary. Who knows, one day he might suddenly turn against me and start looking for true love."
"What about you? Will you fall in love with him?"
"Even less likely."
Wen Mu answered too quickly, which made him sound suspicious.
"You know, I don't like young people."
Yu Mo raised her eyebrows: "I haven't forgotten yet."
Wen Mu's fingers slowly stroked the rim of the glass: "Is there anyone worth me remembering for a long time?"
"It's just because he has seen through a certain type of people."
Yu Mo: "But you still chose Song Xingran."
Wen Mu: "He's just more suitable in comparison. It doesn't mean he's special to me."
Yu Mo: "But you guys get along well?"
Wen Mu thought for a moment and said, "In bed, it's not bad. I do like his body."
"Under the bed, it's okay."
"At best, we're just good friends, the kind we go home to eat with."
"P-friend?" Yu Mo's eyes widened exaggeratedly. "You two are a legally married couple."
"So what?" Wen Mu shrugged. "Marriage doesn't necessarily require love. We get along well and each gets what we need, and that's enough."
"It's the same with you. Will you marry that gray boy you have hiding in your golden house?"
Yu Mo smiled: "I haven't considered it yet."
"Amu, you used to describe men you weren't interested in as 'academic trash'."
Wenmu was startled.
Indeed, her evaluation of Song Xingran has become much milder than it was at the beginning.
"I'm just used to it," she said finally. "Besides, he's pretty obedient most of the time."
"Be obedient?" Yu Mo nearly spit out her wine. "Did you know that when he was in school, he would rev his modified car around campus?"
"Did he go to college?" Wen Mu asked.
"Well," she corrected, "at least he behaved well under the bed."
"Oh?" Yu Mo became interested. "I'm more curious about the part where he's disobedient."
"There's nothing much to say." Wen Mu lowered his head and drank milk to hide the heat on his face.
"Honestly," Yu Mo suddenly said seriously, "You two can't keep going like this. What if he meets someone he really likes one day?"
Wen Mu's fingers tightened slightly: "Then let's get a divorce."
"Are you willing to do that?"
"What's there to be reluctant about?" Wen Mu's voice softened. "If he's embarrassed to ask, I can take the initiative to ask."
Yu Mo stared at her for a long time, then suddenly smiled: "Amu, do you know what you look like now?"
"What?"
"Like a cat pretending not to care," Yu Mo shook her wine glass. "Even though it's been tamed, it still pretends to be aloof."
Wen Mu frowned: "You said I was a capybara before."
Yu Mo laughed. Her friend sometimes had very strange focuses.
"When you called him 'husband' in your voice message just now, your tone didn't sound like you were trying to appease your brother," she said pointedly. "Besides, when did you ever check your phone before a meeting?"
Wen Mu was speechless for a moment.
She had indeed changed, but that didn't mean anything. It was just a habit, like getting used to the smell of coffee every morning or getting used to the starry sky from a certain angle in the observatory.
"I'm just, getting used to married life," she said finally.
Yu Mo sighed: "Amu, have you ever thought that maybe your relationship is deeper than you think?"
Want it deeper?
Wen Mu shook his head decisively: "There is no possibility of love between us. He is too naive and I am too rational. Just like..."
She searched for a metaphor, "Gasoline and milk never mix."
"But you can put them in the same refrigerator." Yu Mo winked mischievously.
Wen Mu smiled helplessly: "What a lousy metaphor you have."
"Anyway," Yu Mo raised her glass, "I wish your little wolfdog good luck in the European competition."
"But how long are you going to stay alone in this empty room?"
Wen Mu did not ask about Song Xingran's specific itinerary for his trip to Europe.
But soon, she felt ridiculous for her reaction.
"I don't know. I didn't ask."
"It's okay if you don't come back. I can do research alone and have peace and quiet."
"Really?" Yu Mo raised her eyebrows.
Wen Mu didn't answer, but just lowered his head and drank the milk in the cup.
The white liquid glowed softly under the light, and the bottom was invisible.
"Oh right," Yu Mo suddenly remembered something, "will you bring your family to the class reunion next week?"
Wen Mu shook his head: "He's not here. Who should I take?"
"What a pity," Yu Mo smirked, "I'd also like to see the expressions of those seniors who pursued you back then when they see your little wolfdog."
Wen Mu imagined the scene and felt inexplicably happy.
Song Xingran is indeed very good at asserting sovereignty, at least, he can help her solve a lot of unnecessary troubles.
"Next time," she said, then was shocked by her own words.
She was actually looking forward to "next time".
Yu Mo keenly grasped this point, but considerately did not point it out. She just raised her glass and said: "Cheers to next time."
Wen Mu picked up the milk cup and gently touched it, and the glass made a crisp sound when it collided.
On this quiet night, amid the aroma of jazz and whiskey, she allowed herself to think for the first time: Perhaps this marriage is a little more important than she is willing to admit.
*
When the plane landed at Brussels International Airport, Song Xingran took out his cell phone.
The screen lit up, and the lock screen showed Wen Mu working in the observatory. She was wearing his denim jacket, her eyes behind her gold-rimmed glasses focused intently on the observation instruments, completely unaware that she had been captured by someone else's camera.
He opened WeChat, his finger hovering above the dialog box, and suddenly realized that it was early morning in Ningchuan.
Wen Mu must be asleep.
She must have been exhausted some time ago. Forget it, let her have a good sleep.
"Do you miss your wife?" Mark walked over with his luggage, a mischievous smile on his face.
Song Xingran put the phone back into his pocket: "No."
Mark: "I saw her from a distance at the training ground last time. She's very beautiful and a good match for you."
"What do you mean they're a good match?" Song Xingran raised his eyebrows.
Mark laughed and patted him on the shoulder: "Okay, okay, it's not just a good match, it's a perfect match."
The black Mercedes sent by the convoy was already waiting at the exit.
As soon as Song Xingran got in the car, he called the team manager and asked in fluent French for the latest car tuning data. As the Belgian nightscape quickly receded outside the window, his mind began to simulate the upcoming training program.
The Silver Arrow team's headquarters is located in the suburbs of Brussels. The modern buildings covering an area of nearly 50,000 square meters sparkle in the morning light.
As the youngest team in the F1 paddock, Silver Arrow has entered the mid-table group in just five years, and this is largely due to the joining of Song Xingran.
"Song!" Jean, the team's technical director, opened his arms from afar. "Welcome back!"
Song Xingran high-fived him and hugged him: "Is the car ready?"
"I've been waiting for you." Jean's eyes sparkled with excitement. "The newly upgraded ERS system will surprise you."
Walking through the long corridor, the walls are covered with photos of the team's highlights over the years, and nearly half of them feature Song Xingran. He joined the team at 19, reached his first podium at 20, and miraculously won the Monaco Grand Prix in the rain at 21...
Until the accident before this year's Belgian Grand Prix.
"Alex is waiting for you in the office," Jean whispered. "He's worried about your condition."
When Song Xingran opened the door, Alex Zhou was standing in front of the French window. The British-Chinese team owner turned around and scanned Song Xingran with a sharp gaze. "Looks like you've recovered well."
"It wasn't serious at first." Song Xingran pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Left leg injury, broken ribs, mild concussion, you call that not serious?" Alex snorted. "Do you know how much effort the medical team put in to get you through the FIA's physical fitness test?"
Song Xingran shrugged: "It's worth it."
A madman who doesn't care about his life.
But he admired madmen most.
Alex sighed and handed him a document. "You've missed four races, and you're now ninth in the standings. With seven races left, the pressure is on to break into the top three."
"It won't be a problem." Song Xingran interrupted him, his eyes sharp as a knife, "Just give me a fast enough car."
The office fell into a brief silence.
Alex suddenly smiled: "You are still the same."
He walked to the bookshelf and took down an exquisite racing car model. "Remember this?"
Song Xingran took the model. It was the first F1 car in his career, a precise replica at 1:18.
"Five years ago you came to me with this model and said it could help Silver Arrow win the race," Alex recalled. "I thought you were crazy, a young guy who had just come up from F2."
"But it did win." Song Xingran stroked the model. "Belgian Grand Prix, rainy race."
Alex nodded: "So I will believe you this time too."
He said solemnly, "The team will fully support your return. But Song, you must ensure 100% condition."
"150%." Song Xingran stood up, a familiar confident smile on his face. "I won't let those guys have it easy for too long."
It was already evening when we left the headquarters.
Song Xingran returned to the hotel where he was staying and had just taken off his coat when his cell phone vibrated.
It was a WeChat message from Shen Sui.
Mom: [Son, are we there yet?]
Lgnis: [We're here. Why are you still awake so late? ]
Mom: [Xiaomu came home with gasoline]
The woman actually went home.
He had specifically sent gasoline to Wen Mu's parents' house, hoping she would go back and live there. The villa in Xinghewan was too big, and he was worried she would be unsafe without him. Unexpectedly, the woman took the dog directly to his parents' house.
The corners of his mouth rose unconsciously, but soon drooped again.
Lgnis: [Why is she there so late? Is she working overtime again?]
Mom: [No, Xiaomu went to the bar with his friends, so he was a little late]
The man's expression suddenly darkened.
Okay, lie to him again.
I clearly agreed to stay at home and behave myself, but as soon as he left, I went to the bar.
Doesn't she know what she looks like when she drinks?
Memories surfaced uncontrollably.
That night, Wen Mu leaned on him, drunkenly, but soon she said she had no strength left. He could only hold her waist to prevent her from falling due to her unstable center of gravity.
As she leaned over, her hair fell down, and her lips, scented with whiskey, pressed against his ear: "Song Xingran, your heart is beating so fast."
Who knew that I didn't control my strength well and pinched too hard, leaving two red marks on the waist, which took several days to disappear.
"grass."
Song Xingran cursed softly, grabbed his clothes and went straight into the bathroom.
Forty minutes later, he came out shirtless with a slightly red face.
The phone screen lights up.
My wife sent me three messages.
Song Xingran opened the dialog box and then froze in place.
Under the dim light of the bedside lamp, a woman lay on her back on his bed, wearing only one of his black T-shirts. The collar was wide, revealing one of her snow-white shoulders. She was not wearing glasses, her black hair spread out on the pillow. One hand held up her phone, taking a selfie, the other tugging at her collar.
The photo only captured her from the collarbone up, but it was enough to recall every curve of her body under the T-shirt.
Wife: [I can’t sleep.]
Wife: [The bed smells like you.]
-----------------------
The author has something to say: This Zhizhi is really good at fishing [shy][shy]
I suddenly had an idea to make an animal sculpture for the young couple.
Zhizhi: Capybara Master Song: Husky [Dog Head]
And! Let me clarify for our young master, he went to college, but dropped out for his career, and will go back later! He doesn't allow himself to be a poor student and unworthy of his wife.
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