Chapter 6 For the stars
Wen Mu was silent for two seconds: "I was joking."
The man laughed roguely: "But I took it seriously."
There was only the sound of steady breathing on the other end of the phone.
"Are you coming here on your own," he drawled, "or should I come and get you?"
"Beep——" The call was hung up crisply.
Wen Mu decisively chose the former. She didn't want the security guard to remember this evil face. After all, if the security guard remembered her, then the entire school would remember her.
She walked slowly across the street, her long black hair gently lifted by the evening breeze. Song Xingran was waiting for her by the car, his slender legs wrapped in his suit pants, and he looked like a male model who had walked out of a fashion magazine.
"Can I be your driver again?" He opened the passenger door.
Wen Mu: "If you're not afraid that I'll vomit in your car."
Why does this conversation sound so familiar?
The man said nonchalantly: "Then just buy another one."
"Prodigal."
Wen Mu sat in the car, still thinking in his mind whether he should go back to his parents' home if he became starving after marriage.
The seat belt clicked shut, and she turned around and asked, "Are you really here to pick me up?"
"otherwise?"
"I see you're dressed like this..."
Wen Mu paused, not wanting to say that he looked like a cowherd, "I thought you had something to do."
Song Xingran started the car: "Let's go to your house and visit your uncle and aunt."
He looked ahead and said, "My parents went there this afternoon."
Wenmu was startled.
The man drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
"I was wrong about what happened before."
"I apologize."
Although his tone was still that of an asshole, he did apologize.
Wen Mu didn't expect him to apologize, and raised his eyebrows slightly: "It's my first time getting married, I have no experience, so it's normal to be afraid."
"I understand."
Song Xingran glanced at her and said, "It's as if this isn't your first marriage."
"I have been married."
"Cough cough cough——" Song Xingran almost choked to death on his saliva.
"In the game."
"Boring." The man glared at her.
The car drove smoothly in the twilight. To Wen Mu's surprise, Song Xingran drove very steadily, without the wild attitude of a racing driver.
The neon lights outside the window cast flowing light and shadows on the glass, but she didn't feel carsick at all.
"What are you looking at?" Song Xingran noticed her gaze.
"I just didn't expect you to drive so steadily."
"What? You thought I'd step on the accelerator and create sparks?" He chuckled.
"Can carrying you be the same as competing?"
They are different. One is playing with his life, and the other causes loss of life.
Wen Mu turned his head and looked out the window without responding.
*
The car drove into the villa area in the west of the city and finally stopped in front of a Chinese-style building with blue bricks, black tiles, and upturned eaves.
The two walked into the courtyard, one in front of the other. As they passed through the corridor, Wen Mu heard the sound of talking and laughing coming from the living room. When he opened the door, he saw the parents of the two families sitting at the mahogany tea table, sipping tea.
"Dad, Mom, we're back." Wen Mu said softly.
The four elders looked up at the same time.
Qin Yi's eyes lit up. This was the first time she'd seen her future son-in-law in person. Although she hadn't had a good impression of Song Xingran before, the young man standing there in a well-tailored suit, with his sharp eyebrows and bright eyes and upright posture, was indeed a handsome man.
How does the saying go? The more the mother-in-law looks at her son-in-law, the more interesting he becomes.
"Uncle, aunt. I'm Xingran." Song Xingran bowed slightly and handed over the gift box in her hand, "It's just a little gift from me."
What was given to Wen Zhiyuan was a set of rare purple clay teapots with a market value of nearly one million; what was given to Qin Yi was top-grade blood swallows and a set of jade jewelry.
Wen Mu was watching from the sidelines, secretly astonished. This amount of money was not even enough for her annual research funding.
As expected, there is no money-making potential in academic research.
"It's too expensive." Wen Zhiyuan waved his hands repeatedly.
"It's my duty." Song Xingran said sincerely, "I was ignorant before and made the two elders worry."
He turned to Wen Mu's parents and bowed solemnly: "I want to apologize especially to my uncle and aunt. I was inconsiderate about what happened that day."
Wen Zhiyuan quickly helped him up: "It's normal for young people to have a bit of temper. It will be fine after it passes."
Qin Yi also smiled and tried to smooth things over: "We will be a family from now on, let's not talk about this."
Wen Mu looked at Song Xingran with some surprise.
As if noticing her gaze, the man turned to her: "And Teacher Wen."
He looked straight into her eyes and said, "I'm sorry for making Teacher Wen unhappy that day."
Wen Mu didn't expect him to apologize again in public, and he didn't know where he got the name "Teacher Wen" from. He didn't know how to respond for a moment, so he could only nod lightly: "It's okay."
The dinner was held in a harmonious atmosphere. Song Xingran was seated next to Wen Mu.
As soon as he sat down, Wen Mu quietly moved aside. This man's presence was too strong, and the faint scent of cologne mixed with his body temperature made her feel a little uncomfortable.
She seemed to hear a chuckle, and when she turned around, she saw Song Xingran concentrating on serving food to the elders, as if it was just her illusion.
"Zhizhi?" Qin Yi called her.
"Um?"
"What are you thinking about?" Qin Yi smiled and pointed at her bowl, "A Ran has been picking up food for you for a long time."
Wen Mu lowered her head, her bowl filled with her favorite dishes. She subconsciously looked at Song Xingran, who was slowly peeling a shrimp, as if he hadn't been the one diligently picking up the food just now.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Song Xingran put the peeled shrimp into her bowl, and raised the corners of his lips slightly: "You're welcome."
"Mr. Gold Master."
Wen Mu: "..."
Under the puzzled gazes of her elders, she silently lowered her head and ate her meal.
*
After dinner, Wen Mu found an excuse to sneak into the backyard.
Passing through the carved wooden door, the view suddenly opens up. A bluestone path winds its way to a pond, where a few koi fish swim in the moonlight. In the corner, a swing frame is wrapped with star-shaped lights, shimmering like the Milky Way in the night.
She sat on the swing, tapping the ground with her toes. The swing swayed slightly, and the halo of the star lights drew thin golden lines before her eyes.
She chose the person, she proposed the requirements, and it was rare for the two families' parents to get along well.
But at this moment, an indescribable feeling of emptiness quietly crept into my heart.
It's not regret, it's more like a sense of unreality.
She is really getting married.
With a man I've known for less than half a month.
Wen Mu smiled self-deprecatingly. She had always been a giant in words, a dwarf in actions. She could calmly lay out the terms of marriage, but couldn't imagine the specifics of married life.
A pair of warm hands pressed against her back. Through the thin fabric of her shirt, the warmth of their palms penetrated directly into her skin.
The next second, she was hanging in the air——
"ah!"
The swing suddenly swung high, Wen Mu screamed, and his fingers gripped the rope tightly.
A familiar low laugh came from behind him: "I thought Teacher Wen was always calm in the face of adversity."
It’s Song Xingran.
Wen Mu breathed a sigh of relief, but then became slightly annoyed by this sudden prank: "If you scare someone, they'll scare them to death."
"It doesn't matter," the swing was pushed up again, "I'm not a human."
This time the force was even greater, and Wen Mu felt like he was almost flying out.
The night wind whistled past her ears, her skirt fluttering, and she had to hold on to both sides of the swing tightly: "Stop pushing."
"Please beg me."
The man's voice came with the sound of the wind, carrying with it the joy of a successful prank.
"I won't push it if you beg me."
Wen Mu rolled his eyes inwardly. This man was like a primary school student.
No, even elementary school students are not as childish as him!
She planned to use her foot brake when the swing reached its lowest point, but every time her toes were about to touch the ground, the person behind her would give her another precise push, sending her flying back into the night sky.
"Stop pushing, my glasses are going to fall off."
"Then just drop it," Song Xingran said with a malicious smile, "It's not like I can't afford to pay for it."
"Whether it's made of gold or silver, I'll buy it all for you."
"Um?"
The last syllable rises with a blatant provocation.
Wen Mu bit her lower lip. The swing swung higher and higher, and the feeling of weightlessness made her stomach twist slightly.
In the end, he had to give in: "Song Xingran, stop pushing."
As soon as she finished speaking, a pair of big hands firmly held her waist and the swing slowly stopped.
The man leaned in close, his warm breath against her ear. His large hand almost covered half of her waist, and the distance between them was so close that they could feel each other's body temperature.
"Teacher Wen," he called her softly, with a smile in his voice.
"Your ears are red."
Wen Mu immediately stood up and escaped from his control.
She adjusted her skirt and glasses, and her voice returned to its usual calmness: "You're seeing things."
"Oh~" Song Xingran drawled out the tone, with an expression that said "Just keep talking tough."
There was a brief silence between the two.
The koi in the pond jumped out of the water with a soft "splash" sound.
"Why did you come out?" Wen Mu spoke first.
"Same reason as yours." Song Xingran put his hands in his pockets and leaned against a sweet-scented osmanthus tree.
Wen Mu hesitated for a moment and asked him, "Why did you choose to visit today?"
"Is today not possible?" He tilted his head. "I checked the almanac, and it's still a good day."
"Don't be poor."
Song Xingran looked at her for a few seconds and shrugged: "If you don't come now, there will be no time."
Seeing Wen Mu's puzzled expression, he continued, "Don't you know? I used to live in Europe. I came back this time because..."
He paused, and finally said, "I was injured some time ago and came back to recuperate."
In the moonlight, Wen Mu's brows furrowed imperceptibly, then quickly relaxed. She lowered her eyes and stared at a pebble on the ground, without saying a word.
"Just tell me if you have something to say." Song Xingran raised his eyebrows.
Wen Mu: "Then can we get married soon?"
Song Xingran chuckled softly, "A few days ago, you were the one who kept asking me to agree to marry you. Why, do you regret it now?"
"No." Wen Mu shook his head. "I just want to know how long it will take for you to leave after we get married."
The man narrowed his eyes and looked at her. After a moment, he replied, "About two months."
Wen Mu's expression changed subtly, the corners of his mouth relaxed slightly, and his eyelashes trembled slightly, as if he was relieved.
It's only two months. They only need to be husband and wife for two months, and then she can continue her previous single life.
"Why," Song Xingran took a step closer, "are you disappointed?"
"No." Wen Mu denied immediately.
The man's face suddenly enlarged before her eyes. He leaned over to meet her eye level, their noses almost touching.
"Come on, the abacus beads are falling on my face."
Wen Mu took a half step back: "I don't know what you are talking about."
Song Xingran chuckled and stood up: "Then let's make things clear."
He counted on his fingers: "You go to the lab four days a week, and I train three days a week."
He calculated thoughtfully, "So if I can do it at least three times a week and at least four times a day, then two months would be..."
Wen Mu was puzzled: "What are you calculating?"
The man stopped moving and suddenly took a step forward, trapping her between the swing and himself.
He lowered his head, his thin lips almost touching her earlobe, and his voice was low and ambiguous.
"Calculating..."
"How am I supposed to feed you these past two months?"
The author has something to say:
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Master Song, are you preparing for a rainy day? [Question mark]
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