Chapter 33
The snow outside the car window gradually thinned out and eventually stopped. A crack in the leaden clouds let in a few rays of golden sunset light, tinting the wet streets and the unmelted snow on the car roofs a warm orange.
Inside the train, the heater hummed softly, the music having stopped at some point. Only their clasped hands conveyed the warmth of their burning heart and the distinct sound of their heartbeats. Xia Wan's cheeks were still tear-stained, her eyes slightly red, but her gaze was remarkably clear, like a clear sky washed by rain. She looked at Jiang Yu, at the turbulent waves still lingering in his deep eyes, the deep love and cherishment that threatened to overflow.
The feeling of interlocking fingers felt so real, so powerful. It was no longer the chaotic dependence of drunkenness, nor the uncontrolled entanglement of a class reunion night. It was a sober spring evening, in the warmth of a train car after the snow had just subsided. Two hearts, having transcended the vastness of time and the chaos of the past, finally and unmistakably acknowledged each other's existence and choice.
Jiang Yu's fingers tightened slightly, and his fingertips gently stroked the back of her hand with a kind of almost pious cherishment. He said nothing more, just looked at her deeply, as if he wanted to carve her current appearance, along with the great joy of regaining what he had lost, into the depths of his soul.
"I..." Xia Wan opened her mouth, her voice still slightly hoarse from sobbing, yet filled with an unprecedented lightness. "I'm... happy too." She ultimately didn't utter the words that carried such weight, but the smile in her eyes and the firmness of her grip on his hand spoke volumes. She accepted his love, reaffirming her own feelings. As for the secret territory, buried for a decade, belonging only to her, she chose to let it quietly remain in the depths of time. It was the mark of her youth, the journey she had taken alone, the softest yet most resilient part of her soul, something she needed neither to display nor to be fully understood by others. At this moment, possessing the present and the future was enough.
Jiang Yu understood the look in her eyes, the reservations. He didn't question, didn't probe. A flicker of understanding flashed across his deep eyes, then transformed into a deeper tenderness and respect. He loved the whole, living Xia Wan in this moment, the Xia Wan who, after a long period of secret love, a turbulent beginning, and self-reconstruction, had finally chosen to walk towards him. Her past was a part of her, and he respected her right to maintain her own spiritual territory. He wanted to be a part of her present and future.
The corners of his lips curved up in a clear and warm arc, like the warm spring sun breaking through the clouds. He released her hand and gently wiped away the remaining tear marks on her cheek, his fingertips warm.
"Are you hungry?" His voice had returned to its usual low tone, but with a distinct, unusual warmth and gentleness. "What do you want to eat? To celebrate?"
"Celebrate?" Xia Wan blinked, her heart warmed by his sudden suggestion.
"Yeah." Jiang Yu started the car, his eyes focused on the street lights gradually lighting up ahead, and said as a matter of course, "Celebrate... Spring is coming."
Celebrating the arrival of spring.
Celebrating that the first flower finally bloomed on the ruins.
Celebrating that after a long night, they finally welcomed their own dawn.
Xia Wan's heart felt like it was soaked in warm honey, a sweet feeling spreading outward. She looked out the window at the city lights just coming on, at the moist earth exposed by the melting snow on the roadside, at the relaxed smiles on the faces of passersby, and a huge, warm current called "happiness" filled her every limb.
"Okay." She replied softly, the curve of her lips bright and charming. "I want to eat... something warm."
Instead of choosing an expensive, fancy restaurant, Jiang Yu drove to a quiet alley in the old city and stopped in front of a small shop with a simple sign that read "Lao Zhang's Clay Pot House." The shop was small, brightly lit, and steam, wrapped in the rich aroma of bone broth, wafted through the crack in the door, dispelling any remaining chill.
"Here?" Xia Wan was a little surprised. This was very un-"Mr. Jiang".
"The casserole here has a soup base that has been simmered for more than ten years and is very warming to the stomach." Jiang Yu explained naturally and opened the car door for her.
Lifting the heavy cotton curtain, the warm, moist aroma of homely life hit me. The few simple wooden tables were nearly full, mostly with regular customers, creating a lively and homely atmosphere. The owner, a gray-haired, affable old man, saw Jiang Yu and greeted him familiarly, "Xiao Jiang, you're here? Oh, and you brought a friend? Come inside and sit down!"
Jiang Yu nodded slightly and led Xia Wan to sit at a small table at the back, which was against the wall. The tabletop was polished to a shine, with an oily sheen.
"Uncle Zhang, same as usual, two servings of pork rib casserole, and an extra serving of cabbage and tofu." Jiang Yu was very familiar with ordering.
"Okay! I'll be right there!" Uncle Zhang responded with a smile, his eyes moving around Xia Wan's face curiously, with a kind of inquiry.
Surrounded by this vibrant atmosphere, Xia Wan felt a sense of novelty and warmth as she watched Jiang Yu across from her, his coat undressed and dressed only in a cashmere sweater. He was no longer the aloof, cold, and distant Mr. Jiang, but an ordinary man who would bring her to this authentic restaurant and exchange familiar greetings with the owner. This sense of intimacy, this immersion in everyday life, moved her more than any romantic dinner.
The steaming clay pot was quickly served. A thick, milky broth bubbled in the earthenware pot, simmering chunks of shank until tender and tender, its milky marrow barely visible. The dish, accompanied by broth-soaked cabbage, tofu, and vermicelli noodles, was fragrant and warm, inviting.
"Try it, be careful it's hot." Jiang Yu pushed a pair of clean bowls and chopsticks in front of her, and carefully skimmed off the little oil floating on the soup for her.
Xia Wan scooped up a spoonful of soup, blew on it, and carefully placed it in her mouth. The rich aroma of the bones mixed with the sweetness of the cabbage instantly exploded on her tongue, warming her stomach and dispelling the last trace of the chill brought by the wind and snow. She narrowed her eyes in satisfaction, "Delicious!"
Jiang Yu looked at her contented expression, his eyes tender enough to drip with water. He also picked up the spoon and began to eat gracefully. The two of them didn't talk much, just eating quietly, occasionally meeting eyes and smiling at each other. The surrounding noise seemed to become a background sound, and the small square table became a warm and peaceful little world in itself.
"I used to drink the soup at Uncle Zhang's when I was in school." Jiang Yu put down his spoon and suddenly spoke, his voice particularly gentle in the lingering heat. "When I used to stay up late drawing, or...when I was in a bad mood, a bowl of hot soup would make me feel at ease."
He didn't specify when he felt "bad mood," but Xia Wan could guess. Was it the time after Shen Zhiyao left? Neither of them mentioned the existence of "Shen Zhiyao." Xia Wan was a coward. It started with a bang, but how did it end? When did it end? Would she still... miss him? She felt no jealousy, only a faint pity. She looked at him and asked softly, "What about now? Do you still come often?"
"Occasionally." Jiang Yu's gaze fell on her face, his deep eyes reflecting the warm light, "In the future... you can come more often."
The words "Come often in the future" were like the simplest promise, blending their future together into this daily life filled with the flavor of fireworks. Xia Wan's heart was filled with joy, and she nodded vigorously: "Yes!"
After finishing the casserole, my body and heart warmed. Leaving the shop, the chilly wind remained, but no longer biting. The streetlights stretched our shadows long, overlapping on the wet ground.
Jiang Yu naturally took Xia Wan's hand again. This time, it wasn't the passionate grip they'd used to when they'd confessed their love, but rather a clasp of fingers intertwined, palms pressed together, a steady, everyday warmth. Xia Wan didn't struggle, letting his warm palm wrap around hers, feeling the firm yet gentle pull.
They didn't get in the car right away, but instead walked slowly along the snow-covered streets. The air was crisp, with the uniquely clean scent of a snowy day. Snow on the dead branches by the roadside gleamed faintly under the streetlights. The only sound in the quiet street was the soft crunch of the wet snow beneath their feet.
"Xia Wan." Jiang Yu's voice rang out in the silence, low and clear.
"Hmm?" Xia Wan turned her head to look at him.
"This weekend... the last batch of late plum blossoms should still be in bloom in the plum garden in the suburbs of Tianjin. Do you want to go and have a look?" He made the invitation in a natural tone, with anticipation in his eyes.
It was no longer a "drop in" or a work-related exchange. It was a pure invitation between the two of them.
Xia Wan's heart trembled slightly. She recalled the photo of the ancient plum blossoms, first in bloom, sent by Shi Huiming from Yunshan Zen Temple. She also recalled how she had once told Lin Wei that she admired the plum blossom's elegance. He... even knew this? Or... was it just a coincidence?
Looking at his intent eyes, waiting for an answer, Xia Wan felt as if the secret territory of "Ten Years of Secret Love" in her heart was gently caressed by a spring breeze. She didn't need to say anything; he was already, in his own way, gradually approaching, understanding, and trying to participate in her world.
She raised her face, facing the warm glow of the street lamp, and gave him an incomparably bright, unreserved smile. Her eyes were clear, filled with complete trust and joy.
"Okay. Let's go together."
Jiang Yu looked at her bright smile, and his deep eyes instantly lit up with a brilliant light, like the brightest star in the night sky. He held her hand tightly, and the corners of his lips curled up, forming an arc of warmth and satisfaction.
On the streets where the light snow has just stopped, the elongated shadows of street lamps, and hands clasped together.
An invitation about plum blossoms, a response full of expectations.
This is their spring prelude.
Melodious, warm, and full of vitality with infinite possibilities.
And the ten years of thoughts that belong only to Xia Wan and are buried deep in time are like the quietest old plum tree in the depths of the plum garden. It will continue to precipitate its unique fragrance in an undisturbed corner, becoming the most gentle and tenacious part of the background of her soul.
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