Chapter 25 Sophomore Year
The car pulled into Ganjing Village. Uncle Ba and his family returned home, and Zhenmin followed them down the same road. After walking a few steps, she turned back and stopped in front of Song Ting, looking at him with a complicated expression. "Thank you, Brother Song. I owe you that money."
"You don't owe me anything. I gave the money for Xiao Jiu."
Nan Jiu leaned against the car door, his eyes slightly lowered, his throat rolling gently, and the loose hair on his forehead was blown by the night wind.
Zhenmin turned her head to look at her, her lips tightened, then relaxed again, she withdrew her gaze and followed Uncle Eight.
Nan Jiu was still clutching Song Ting's shirt. Seeing him approach, she raised her hand and offered it to him. Song Ting didn't take it and asked, "How are your feet?"
"This will be much better."
As soon as he finished speaking, Song Ting put his arm across her back and held her in his arms again.
Nan Jiu's body flew into the air, and she subconsciously put her arms around his neck, saying in surprise, "I said I'm much better and can walk."
"Yeah." Song Ting responded, still holding her in his arms.
The moonlight outlined his steep nose, several deep wrinkles gathered between his brows, his facial features were tense with a heavy sense of depression, and even the air around him became stagnant.
Nan Jiu lowered her head to his chest and asked with a nasal tone after the emotional ups and downs, "I stabbed him in the lower abdomen, is it okay?"
"You won't die." Song Ting calmed her beating heart with these three words.
"Did you give them money?"
"Director Liu's people have taken photos of them as evidence of extortion. I will use legal means to make them reveal everything."
Nan Jiu breathed a sigh of relief, and for once, he put away the spikes on his body, becoming obedient and quiet. His voice, as gentle as the night breeze, reached his ears: "I didn't let him touch me."
His pounding heartbeat pressed against her eardrums, and his arm gradually tightened as he led her through the tea ridges. When Nanjiu looked up again, she found that they were not heading towards the top of the mountain, but had come to the tea garden.
Song Ting walked to the front of the cabin and put her down. Nan Jiu leaned against the door, looked up and asked him, "Why did you bring me here?"
Song Ting lowered his head, his broad shoulders enveloping her, their breaths tangled together. "I regret it."
His eyes were blazing, the fire darting into her body, sending tiny tremors through her. She tilted her neck back, leaned closer to him, pressed her lips against his, touched lightly, then withdrew, teetering on the edge of testing.
He knew clearly that it was wrong, that she could be so unbridled and reckless, but he couldn't, yet he acquiesced.
She raised her gaze uncertainly, looking into his eyes. As she stared closely at him, those always calm eyes had unconsciously solidified into a thick, indissoluble black.
She became bolder, leaning forward slightly, pressing her lips against his again, caressing them gently. After tasting the burning heat of his lips, how could she be content with just a light taste? The gentle caressing became irregular, and her breathing rate also became disrupted.
He knew what she wanted. The game between restraint and indulgence pulled the rudder against each other. He was the helmsman in the storm, who could carry the boat or capsize it.
Yet at this moment, he indulged her.
Song Ting put his arms through her waist, pressed her body against him, pressed his lips down, completely covering her lips, and his tongue tip silently cut open her lips, their breaths intertwined into invisible threads.
Time was paused. Nan Jiu didn't know how long the kiss lasted. Her mind was stuck in a blank quagmire and her consciousness was collapsing.
Compared to the thrilling kiss last time, this time his kiss was more like a soothing one. Every slight movement was accompanied by a gentle lick, pulling her mood back from the storm to a safe harbor.
Song Ting opened the door and let Nan Jiu in. The tips of her ears were still tinged with crimson, and her panting breath was like she'd been drinking, a bit tipsy. She had walked into the house, but the weight of her body was still in his arms.
The lights in the room were turned on, Nanjiu's eyes flickered, and a birthday cake was placed in the middle of the table.
"I was planning to take you to celebrate your birthday, but you ran out early in the morning and disappeared." Song Ting closed the door and pulled Nan Jiu to sit on the chair.
"I thought..." Nanjiu said those three words, then her voice trailed off. Regret, annoyance, and surprise mingled like spilled seasoning, a mixture of all sorts. But if she had to do it all over again, she'd probably still go with Zhenmin.
Song Ting sat cross-legged on the ground, barely reaching the same height as her on the stool. He pressed his hand against her, asking her to lower her head. "It's all grass."
Nan Jiu lowered her head and leaned forward. Her hair was about the same color as straw and was mixed together. It took some effort to pick out each strand.
As she sat there, Nanjiu's eyes kept glancing at the cake on the table. It was wrapped in a white box, tied with a pink and purple ribbon. She'd eaten many birthday cakes from friends, colleagues, and classmates, but never her own.
Song Ting picked out all the straw from his hair and followed her gaze: "It's not past 12 o'clock yet, there's still time."
Nan Jiu looked down at herself and said, "It's too dirty. I want to blow out the candles cleanly." She raised her eyelashes and looked at him with watery eyes. "I have packed my luggage and put it in the house on the top of the mountain. My pajamas are inside."
She didn't say directly that she wanted to stay, but she unfolded her thoughts step by step and put them in front of Song Ting.
The room was lit only by a dim wall lamp, the light barely outlining their outlines. The air fell into a brief stagnation, and she gripped the edge of the stool with her fingers, waiting for his answer.
He had originally thought that the cake was in the cabin, and he could bring her back in time to blow out the candles. But facing her cautious probing and longing eyes, he couldn't bear to let her go through this turbulent night alone.
Finally, he grabbed his shirt and put it on: "You wash first." Then he turned and walked out.
The shower area in the cabin was covered only by a curtain. When Nan Jiu was almost done, she heard Song Ting return. She threw the dirty clothes out and said to him, "I don't want this shirt anymore. It's stained with that man's blood. It's disgusting. Please help me throw it away. I want the pants. They can be worn after washing them."
Song Ting bent down to pick up the clothes, then found her pajamas from the luggage and handed them to her through the curtain.
After Nan Jiu finished her shower, she felt much more refreshed. While she was drying her hair, Song Ting took a hot shower.
The hot stream sprayed on the swaying curtain, and water vapor came out from the gaps in the curtain. The shower curtain was off-white and thick, but it couldn't hide the shadow behind it.
Nanjiu's hair dryer stopped, and through the shower curtain, her silhouette paused. The sound of the rushing water abruptly ceased, and Nanjiu's eardrums hummed softly at the sudden silence. Only the lingering warmth and humidity remained in the air. The sound of her heartbeat fermented in the lingering steam.
Nanjiu's hand reached through the gap in the curtain, her fingertips gently stretched. A large, damp hand from behind the curtain reached up and grasped hers. The scorching heat devoured her sanity like magma, and she became like a frightened bird. He was the only person she could hold onto after experiencing the terror of life and death.
Her fingers gradually freed themselves from his palm, tracing the curve of his forearm to his chest, then sliding down his waist. Unrinsed shower gel clung to her fingers, a smooth, warm touch blending together. Her fingers continued to slide downward, and just as they were about to touch his forbidden spot, he grabbed her wrist.
"No?"
Her whisper was like a feather, scratching his heart and sending a slight tingling sensation down his spine. Before he could react, she pulled her hand away and disappeared behind the shower curtain.
Song Ting put on his clothes and opened the shower curtain. His eyes seemed to be bound by an invisible hoop and fell on her.
The low table in the room was leaning against the bed. Nan Jiu sat on the edge of the bed, the cake already unwrapped. She put her hands behind her back and smiled at him, "Guess what goodies I brought."
Song Ting brought the chair to the table and asked her, "What?"
Nanjiu took out the bottle of black and gold champagne and placed it on the table.
"You brought this with you?"
"Is there a cup?" Nanjiu asked him.
"You want to drink now?"
"Drink something to calm your nerves."
The cabin was simple and had limited supplies. Song Ting stood up and found two disposable paper cups.
After pouring champagne, Nanjiu placed candles for the numbers 2 and 0. The cake wasn't fancy, but it was large enough, covered in fruit and cream. Conditions in the mountains weren't as good as out in the open, so this cake was the most plentiful.
Nanjiu wanted to take out his cell phone to take a picture, but suddenly found that the phone was still in the hands of those people.
"What's wrong?" Song Ting asked when he saw that her face looked strange.
“They took my phone away.”
Song Ting hesitated for a moment and said, "We'll deal with it tomorrow. Let's blow out the candles first."
"Take a picture of me with your phone."
Song Ting pulled out his phone and circled to the front. Nan Jiu had already struck her pose, the camera capturing her forever, 20 years old, shed her childishness, yet untouched by worldly sophistication, taking bold steps, eager to conquer the unknown. Even after a night of torment, her eyes still shone brightly when she looked up at the camera.
Nan Jiu clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and made a wish. When she opened them again, she quickly scooped up some cream with her index finger and smeared it on the corner of Song Ting's mouth. The air was filled with the sweet scent of cream. He didn't dodge, letting her do whatever she wanted.
Nanjiu's expression froze. She stood up, bent down closer to him, and ran her thumb across the corner of his swollen and red lips. "What's wrong with your face?"
"Nothing, just had a fight with them." He brushed it off lightly and urged her, "Cut the cake."
Nan Jiu squeezed in with him on a chair, cut off a large piece with a knife, and put it on the cake plate. She felt that it was too crowded, so she simply sat on his lap.
Song Ting raised his arm and placed it on the table, half-holding her in his arms. Nan Jiu leaned his back against his arm, turned his head, and brought the first spoonful to his lips.
He tilted his head: "You eat first."
She didn't withdraw her hand, but leaned in closer, the cream on the spoon touching his lower lip. She wanted to share the first spoonful of cake with him, for no other reason than that she felt Song Ting had never properly eaten a birthday cake.
The cream had already rubbed against his lips, and he had no choice but to let her go. As soon as Song Ting took a bite of the cake, Nan Jiu's lips pressed against his. The soft tip of her tongue swept across his lips, licking away all the cream. There was clearly a whole piece of cake behind her, but she insisted on taking it from him. Even if she decided to share, she should take back half, to be fair.
She licked the cream clean, his lips shimmering as he gazed down at her. He had high brows, deep eye sockets. Most of the time, his expression was impassive, his emotions contained within. But once his gaze locked firmly on someone, that intense focus could silently drown them.
The swollen corners of his mouth gave his regular facial features a sense of broken tension. Far from looking embarrassed, he tore off the outer shell, revealing a wild and scorching fierceness.
A strange feeling arose in her body, like hot quicksand spreading from her chest. She understood her body's signal and buried her face in the crook of his neck to hide her sensitivity at the moment.
Song Ting felt her body weaken. He took the cake from her hand and placed it on the table. He lowered his head, his breath falling on the swirl of her hair. "Are you scared?" He tightened his arms and patted her gently like coaxing a child. "I'll take you home tomorrow."
She didn't say anything, but just snuggled up to him quietly, unable to speak.
After a long while, she spoke again: "Yes, I was scared. His thing looked like a dead branch that had been burned by fire. I don't think others are like that."
Song Ting's hand paused, his breath condensing. Nan Jiu picked up the champagne and stuffed it into his hand. He glanced at him quickly and explained, "I didn't see it with my own eyes."
"What do you think? Are you still having an online relationship?"
"Of course not. Even if I were to have an online romance with someone, how could I ask them to take off their pants? Am I that perverted?" She finally smiled. "I'm telling you, don't talk about me."
She raised her glass: "Drink one first."
Song Ting picked up the paper cup and his eyes moved slowly across her face, taking in every subtle expression of hers.
"That year you bought me a computer, didn't you? Then when I was surfing the Internet, a small window popped up, the kind that moved. I couldn't help but click on it and take a look."
His eyelashes covered his eyelids, which were half-closed, but his pupils were slightly constricted.
Nanjiu's lips were straightened: "Actually, it wasn't just one glance, it was several."
Song Ting still didn't speak, looking at her with a sharp and penetrating gaze.
The champagne had a floral and lemony aroma and was easy to drink. Nan Jiu downed it like a drink, and after filling his tummy, he confessed, "Well, I used to watch it quite often for a while, and it was quite relaxing."
“…”
Song Ting drank the champagne in the glass, put down the paper cup, turned her head back, and said in a cold voice: "Why didn't you get infected by watching the computer?"
Nan Jiu was stunned: "How did you know?"
Song Ting patted her back, put her on the ground, and ignored her. Even a computer virus couldn't stop her curiosity.
Nan Jiu curled up on the bed and picked up the cake. Song Ting stood up and took the dirty clothes out.
When he returned to the room, the champagne in Nanjiu's glass had dried up. She was swaying on the edge of the bed, about to fall.
Song Ting walked over and pushed her toward the bed. Nan Jiu slowly opened his eyes, using the aftereffects of the champagne to release the thirst in his body, growing bolder. Her slightly cool lips brushed his collarbone, lingering briefly before nibbling. Unwillingness was hidden in her chaotic breath.
“The experience of being 20 is definitely different from that of being 30.”
Her golden hair cascaded like a waterfall, scattered on the white pillow, and the lines of her neck extended smoothly down.
"I want to experience it." She raised her head, her wet eyes pure and full of desire. There was a demon hidden under her skin who could make the most devout man fall into her bewitchment willingly.
He kissed her, either out of comfort or out of heartache, but he had no intention of touching her. At least, they shouldn't take this step before they figured out what was going on.
Yet, a raging fire rose from his belly, his Adam's apple rising and falling slowly as he grasped at the last ounce of his self-control. He tried to suppress the rage, but the burning breath continued to roar through his body. The frantic and inappropriate impulse whipped at his heart like a cane.
She crossed her arms over his shoulders, her thin nightgown clinging to her voluptuous curves. So young, fresh, and alluring.
He was like a moth hanging outside a lighthouse, longing for the light but knowing the price he would pay if he ran into it.
His heart was torn in two, and the violent conflict dragged him into an endless abyss. There was only one voice in his head - get close to her, even if it meant being torn to pieces.
The moment he kissed her, he tore the string that had been stretched tight for so long. His voice was deep and magnetic, a tone Nanjiu had never heard before: "How do you want to experience it?"
Light and shadow lingered on her lips, and the curve at the corner of her mouth turned into endless gasps in the vortex of sinking.
On his 20th birthday, Nanjiu realized his first wish in life—to no longer spend his life alone.
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