Chapter 21 Sophomore Year
Nan Jiu plugged her automatically powered-off phone into its charger and tossed and turned for a while, but sleep still refused to come. The tense curve of Song Ting's arms was still clearly visible around her. She closed her eyes, and his gaze reappeared. As they kissed, his gaze had been fixed on her, the crisscrossing sanity and madness in his eyes, dragging her into a dizzying, scorching, and utterly uncontrollable dimension.
The trembling of his heart and soul at that moment was more thrilling to Nanjiu than any other exciting experience. Once Pandora's box is opened, desire takes root and sprouts.
Song Ting returned home and had just changed out of his wet clothes when Grandpa Nan called. He picked up the phone, his pupils narrowed as he looked at the floating number on the screen. After a two-second pause, he answered the call. Grandpa Nan had said that Nan Jiu's call hadn't gone through, and he wanted to know what was going on over there.
Song Ting had a brief conversation with the old man, telling him that the repairs had been basically completed before the rain, and that with the increased inspections in the next few days, there shouldn't be any trouble.
Mr. Nan felt relieved and asked again, "Did Xiao Jiu cause you any trouble?"
His breath was trapped in his chest, and his heart was beating sluggishly. Deep wrinkles formed between Song Ting's brows. After a brief silence, he replied to Old Man Nan, "No."
After hanging up the phone, Song Ting sat on a low bamboo stool with his upper body naked, his back bent like a taut bow, his fingers deeply inserted into his messy black hair, his knuckles stretched white, and his suppressed breathing rising and falling dully in his chest.
......
It rained heavily for three days, and Nan Jiu hadn't seen Song Ting in those three days. Da Huang finally couldn't stand the soaking in the rain anymore and ran into the house to sleep.
During the day, Nanjiu, holding an umbrella, went to Aunt Qin's house for dinner and ran into Zhenmin. Aunt Qin said that Uncle Ba had gone down to clean the ditches. The rain had been intermittent, and the tea farmers could only check for damaged tea trees when it stopped.
Nan Jiu casually asked where Song Ting was staying tonight. Aunt Qin said there was a wooden house in the tea garden. Song Ting had built it a few years ago to study tea planting and it was convenient for him to stay.
"Boss Song is quite interesting sometimes. The first year after the tea trees were planted, he rolled up his blanket and moved into the garden. In the early morning, before daybreak, he'd squat in the fields, feeling the leaves one by one and pinching the soil handful by handful. He said he was familiar with the tea trees' temperaments, since they couldn't even talk, so how could they have temperaments? Sometimes, when it rained in the middle of the night, he'd put on a raincoat and go outside, saying he wanted to listen to the sound of the rain hitting the tea leaves to see if the water was draining properly. We all jokingly said he lived with the tea trees."
Zhenmin squatted on a bench, shelling edamame. Aunt Qin went into the kitchen without saying a word to check the fire. Nanjiu stood at the door, lost in thought, gazing at the misty tea mountain. She heard Zhenmin say to her, "If you're scared living up there alone, come and stay with me for a few days."
Nanjiu turned around, leaned against the door frame, and looked at Zhenmin against the light: "What did Song Ting ask you to bring?"
Zhenmin hesitated for a few seconds, put the edamame in her hand into the big bowl, and lowered her eyes: "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing." Nan Jiu withdrew his gaze, and a stagnant light slowly accumulated in his eyes.
Sang Ya squatted at the doorway, looking up at her, tilting her head in confusion. Nan Jiu smiled and touched her head, and she lowered her head again and picked up the stone to draw.
"A couple of years ago, a large area of tea trees died, and he lost a lot of money. It's only in the past two years that things have slowly started to recover. He's put so much effort into this place. Villagers don't have proper jobs, so he taught them how to plant and pick tea leaves, and arranged for young people to work in the tea factory. He's in charge of planting, managing production, and figuring out how to sell the tea. Last year, there was an opportunity to contract the hill in front, and the villagers urged him to expand and make the factory bigger. I know he has his concerns. He needs to return to Maoer Lane, but he could definitely find someone to take over the teahouse business."
The air was shrouded in a lingering dampness, curling around Nanjiu's skin like cold tentacles. A soft smile crossed her lips. "You hope he'll stay long-term. Is it for the sake of managing the tea plantation, or for yourself?"
Zhenmin's eyelashes trembled slightly as she broke the edamame in half.
"Why don't you tell him these thoughts yourself?" Nan Jiu turned his gaze and fell on her.
"I mentioned it before."
"So even if he didn't accept it, why do you think it would be helpful if I were to persuade him?" Nan Jiu leaned over his neck slightly. "Why should I help you convince him and make my grandfather lose a pillar of support?"
Nanjiu's gaze was too sharp, with an insight that could not be hidden, like a sharp dagger, cutting open Zhenmin's carefully hidden thoughts.
Zhen Min avoided his gaze and lowered her head, saying, "No matter what my considerations are, I just hope the best for him. If the tea plantation grows in size, he'll make more money, right?"
“How much money do you need to make to be considered a success?”
Nan Jiu's words left Zhen Min silent.
"Since you think his journey hasn't been easy, and you know he's made many mistakes, shouldn't you be more understanding of his desire to proceed steadily? If he feels the timing isn't right to take on other businesses, he must have his own reasons. I don't think Song Ting is reckless. Once he makes up his mind, I don't think anyone can easily change it."
Nan Jiu's voice was neither hurried nor slow, but it was filled with a wave of heat that burned Zhen Min's cheeks red.
"Besides..." Nanjiu's voice dragged out, a trace of confusion flashing in his eyes, "Everyone has different pursuits in life. To a certain extent, the material level cannot replace the spiritual level. Have you ever thought about why Song Ting returned to Maoer Lane?"
After saying this, Nan Jiu fell silent, her eyes gradually becoming dull. At this stage in her life, material things outweighed spiritual things. After entering university, her only pursuit seemed to be making money. As for the future, she hadn't given it a second thought.
Zhenmin looked up at her. Nanjiu leaned against the doorframe, her figure like a framed painting. Light streamed in from outside, sculpting tiny shadows around her form. The transparent, alienated air about her, like an elusive wind, carelessly brushed against his skin, stirring a tremor.
......
After several days of heavy rain, the sun finally emerged. The villagers all rushed to the tea fields to prune tea trees with severely damaged roots and wilted leaves, preventing them from losing nutrients and dying. While Nan Jiu was visiting the tea garden with Aunt Qin and the others, he ran into Song Ting, whom he hadn't seen for several days.
He stood at the end of a tea ridge, chatting quietly with several tea farmers. A gentle mountain breeze stirred the layers of tea, creating tiny traces of green. The dim morning light outlined his clear profile. He wore a light gray linen shirt loosely on his body, the sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows, revealing his well-defined arms.
Nan Jiu followed Aunt Qin inside, her eyes flicking vaguely in his direction. Song Ting leaned over and turned his gaze. Nan Jiu averted his gaze in time and waved to Junzi and the others.
After not seeing each other for a few days, Junzi was constantly chatting with Nanjiu. They were now close friends, having shared a lot of hardships. If Nanjiu hadn't jumped into the pit and thrown the bag back up, Junzi would have had to pay for it. It wasn't much, but it was enough to earn him a beating from his father.
Nan Jiu didn't look at Song Ting again. After walking into the tea field, she deliberately ignored his existence and stayed with Junzi and the others.
After Nanjiu learned how to prune from Aunt Qin, she was in charge of the pruning, while Junzi was in charge of collecting the dead branches she cut and moving them out. Junzi's father came over to say hello to Nanjiu because of what happened two days ago. Aunt Qin saw that Junzi was working particularly hard today, and joked to Junzi's father: "Is your Junzi thinking about getting a wife? Don't think about our Xiaojiu, she is a college student from the city."
Junzi's father looked at his son with a smile. Junzi blushed and said angrily, "That's not true, Aunt Qin, don't talk nonsense!"
Seeing Junzi's shyness, Zhang Jiang and the others didn't miss any opportunity to laugh at him and started to make fun of him. Seeing Junzi's silly look, as if he wanted to hide in the tea tree, Nanjiu also started to laugh.
The bursts of laughter from the other side of the tea garden drew Song Ting's gaze several times. Nan Jiu had braided her golden hair into two small braids that hung over her shoulders. She wore a straw hat borrowed from Aunt Qin. Sunlight filtered through the slits in the brim, casting tiny specks of light on her fair face. As she spoke, even her blinking eyelashes fluttered with a furry golden light, and she walked vividly and dazzlingly through the sea of tea.
The laughter died down, and everyone continued to work. Junzi followed Nanjiu with the frame. When Nanjiu was cutting off the dead branches again, the frame suddenly moved to her side. Nanjiu said to him, "After following me all the way, I think you've finally become more discerning."
A broad shadow descended. Nan Jiu turned to see Song Ting standing behind her, a bamboo basket in hand. She quickly averted her gaze and lowered her head, the expression on her face gone. She ignored him and continued walking forward, searching for the next tea tree to prune.
"Pack your things tonight and someone will pick you up tomorrow afternoon." Song Ting's voice fell behind her.
Nanjiu bent down, her fingers touching the leaves for a split second of hesitation. But then she quickly grabbed the scissors and snipped the dead leaves off the branches. From beginning to end, she didn't look up, didn't respond, her eyes hidden in her hair, as calm as if she had no emotion at all.
She picked up the cut leaves and turned around. Junzi held out the frame. Nanjiu's expression faltered for a moment, but soon returned to normal. Zhang Jiang, standing next to her, asked in a hoarse voice, "Girl, are you leaving tomorrow?"
"Yeah." Nan Jiu responded softly.
"How many years older are you than Junzi?"
"One year old." Nan Jiu bent down and continued to grope forward.
Junzi interjected, "What's your zodiac sign?"
"Leo."
"Isn't Leo this month? When is your birthday?"
Nanjiu grasped the dead branch and closed the scissors. A sharp, decisive "click" sounded. A gust of wind blew, swaying the tea trees. Nanjiu stood briefly among the trees, her shadow swaying slightly on the tea ridges. She turned around and placed the dead branch in the bamboo basket, her voice muffled in her throat: "Number 16."
"Isn't the 16th tomorrow?" Junzi reacted.
Zhang Jiang at the side took over the conversation: "No wonder you are leaving tomorrow, are you going back to celebrate your birthday?"
A girl's 20th birthday is a big one. Even in the countryside, families set up several tables and invite friends and family to dine, as most girls have already moved on to their in-laws' families by the time they turn 30. In the city, a girl's 20th birthday is often even more grand, with grand restaurants, parties, and performances. They naturally assumed a grand birthday feast awaited Nanjiu.
Nan Jiu said nothing, squatted down, and picked up the fallen dead branches one by one.
Song Ting, who was talking to Junzi's father nearby, turned his head and, looking past the tea bushes, caught sight of the figure bending down to silently pick up dead branches. Her pale neck, slender and fragile, was exposed to the scorching sun, as if it could easily collapse. For a moment, his expression froze, and the light in his eyes grew thick.
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