Chapter 29 Junior Year
Nan Jiu's movements were bold and unrestrained. Her soft body slipped between the steering wheel and Song Ting's chest, like a delicate and winding water snake.
She raised her eyelashes, her eyes, covered with beautiful gray lenses, seemed to be misty and hazy. Her hair fell with her kiss, forming a soft curtain that brushed against his cheek.
Song Ting's breath was disturbed by her reckless kiss, and his burning instincts slowly awakened in the silence. He raised his left hand and tilted the chair back so she could sit more comfortably. His right hand held her waist, and his hot breath entangled with hers without reservation.
Her kiss was quickly drowned out by his even more turbulent waves, and her fingers subconsciously clenched the fabric of his chest. Her body trembled slightly, and he tightened his arms, almost kneading her into his bones.
Her breath became shallow, and she tilted her delicate neck back, gasping for air as she gulped. His fingertips threaded through the roots of her hair, sending a tingling sensation through her body. He turned her face toward him again, capturing her glistening lips. This time, his kiss was more complex, a delicate licking and nibbling, a gentle, yet not too heavy, attempt to devour her, but ultimately unsuccessful.
When he released her, her lips were red and swollen, and she leaned against his chest, her bones ripped out. Layers of her warm, fragrant, soft scent lingered around him, burning the desire in his eyes.
Nan Jiu extended the tip of her tongue and rolled it across his slowly sliding Adam's apple: "Uncle, you've reacted." There was a hint of teasing in her voice, like a cunning fox, who used all means to push him off the cliff and watched him fall.
"Do you miss me?" Nan Jiu rubbed upwards, and her skirt rolled up. The fabric under the skirt pressed against Song Ting's vitals, bringing with it a grating heat and wetness.
Whenever she moved, he could clearly feel herself sinking into a warm and moist vortex.
"What answer do you want?" Song Ting pinched her, not letting her move, and forcibly controlled her in the palm of his hand.
The sound of the zipper sliding suddenly rang out in the silent car, and he handed the answer to her.
Nan Jiu's body shrank slightly, now truly frozen. She hadn't expected Song Ting to be so serious. The fabric was peeled away, and she plummeted downwards, shuddering and swelling simultaneously, trapping her in the cage of desire.
A layer of white mist gradually formed on the glass, and a thin layer of sweat soaked her skin, making it slippery and almost impossible to hold. The air was mixed with her unique body fragrance, a maddening smell.
The shadows of trees swayed outside the car window, and they were isolated in a small, tense but intense world.
He controlled his last impulse, held her waist, opened the storage compartment and took out a tissue.
He was half-lying on the back of the chair, his knitted shirt pulled up to his chest by Nanjiu. His abdominal muscles were clearly defined, and his muscles suddenly tightened with his breathing. She could smell the wild and strong scent in the air, his out-of-control breath, dangerous yet pure, invading her lungs.
For the first time, she witnessed him complete this disarming ritual. He stared at her intently throughout, his eyes crimson. The scene was so powerful that it made her dizzy and nearly melt. She saw the culprit behind her addiction. He was just like her: resilient, strong, and possessed of a devastating force.
The drawstring of the performance costume is in front of the body. It is smooth when untied, but not so easy to tie it again.
Nan Jiu stood in front of Song Ting and said, "Whoever untied it will be responsible for tying it."
He grabbed the two drawstrings and pulled her into his arms. His kiss was long and gentle, the violent assault gradually fading, replaced by a gentleness that was almost reverent.
When he released her, he had already wrapped her young and beautiful body again, tying a knot that belonged only to this moment.
When the car turned the intersection and was one street away from the school, Nan Jiu asked Song Ting to stop.
The lingering emotions between them were suppressed by a heavy silence. The familiar sights of streetlights, tree shadows, and the road watered by a sprinkler truck flooded Nanjiu's vision. She grasped the doorknob, and the cold touch forcibly pulled her back to reality.
"Don't come to school to see me anymore. I don't want people to think..."
The word "support" rolled around in his throat and was swallowed back. Once it was actually said out loud, both of them felt embarrassed.
Nowadays, any slight movement at school can trigger tense associations with the rumor about the sponsorship. Rumors spread like a virus, suspicions abound, and everyone feels insecure. Like a silent plague, any unusual behavior can be maliciously interpreted and condemned.
Nan Jiu didn't know if Xia Yanran really had a special relationship with a man outside of school, but between her and Song Ting, such a relationship did exist. However, compared to the rumors about Xia Yanran, their relationship was even more unspeakable.
He was her uncle in name only, not by blood, but this relationship alone was enough to nail her to the cross of gossip in such a state of paranoia. She was willing to cross the line for a fleeting thrill, but she would never trap herself in worldly scrutiny for a thrill or a heartbeat.
The minute hand was only a few tiny marks away from 11 o'clock. She said goodbye, opened the car door, and hurried away.
Song Ting looked at the figure gradually moving away outside the window, with a faint smile on his lips. Before the emotion reached his eyes, it quickly froze.
The air still held the warmth and fragrance of the previous moment, a silent tug-of-war between it and the cold wind blowing in from the window. His fingers on the window sill curled up imperceptibly, then loosened again.
During those years, a dead silence like a long night, she had barged into his life like a blazing storm. She tore through all his conventional beliefs with unbridled abandon, blazing fury, and unreasoning force, dragging him from his frozen island into the scorching, chaotic clouds. Every encounter was a hurricane, sweeping everything away. When she approached, his blood roared; when she left, his lights went out.
She can be passionate and unrestrained one moment, as if he is the only one in her eyes and heart; but can suddenly cool down the next moment, severing all ties without looking back.
She had set the rules of the game from the beginning. She indulged herself consciously, and he also stepped into this fog consciously.
I closed the car window, and the empty night and everything that had just happened were locked outside.
He started the car and drove into the deeper darkness.
......
Nanjiu rushed back to the dormitory at the last minute. Putting down the gift boxes, she pulled over a mirror to remove her makeup.
My roommate came over to take a look and asked, "Who went to Guangxi?"
"Family." Nan Jiu replied, took off her cosmetic contact lenses, and her eyes fell on the packaging box.
Guangxi wasn't close to Fengshi; the detour Song Ting had mentioned was over 400 kilometers longer. Nanjiu suddenly felt a pang of guilt for what he had said to him before leaving. But this guilt eventually faded in the frenzy of life.
Since then, Song Ting never went to see her again.
The warmth of summer vacation gradually cooled as winter set in. She yearned for excitement, and he indulged his desires. They weren't even boyfriend and girlfriend, so there was no need to check in on each other every day. Over time, they rarely contacted each other.
Nanjiu had kept that bank card locked in a drawer, never using it. Firstly, she was prepared to avoid poverty after resuming her substitute teaching job; secondly, she felt that if she used the card, she and Song Ting would still be tied together. She wasn't even sure where she would go after graduation, so how could she define her future with this card?
During her junior year summer vacation, Nanjiu was incredibly busy. She created a detailed event plan and personally handed it to Lin Songyao. Lin Songyao's eyes lit up with interest. He highly praised Nanjiu's plan and supported her in implementing it as quickly as possible.
However, his support was only verbal, with no real support at all. When Lin Songyao leaned back in his chair and looked at her with a smile in his eyes, Nan Jiu once again refreshed her perception of the man in front of her.
He has the appearance of a wealthy second-generation spendthrift, but inwardly he is a calm hunter. Every investment he makes has a price tag, and until he has assessed Nan Jiu's value, no resources will flow to her.
Nanjiu put away her plan and walked out of Xingyao. Another year of scorching sun, the heat burning her skin, yet it still couldn't extinguish her ambition.
In 2015, no one in Fengshi had ever held a flash mob, and no dance organization had ever held a dance-along event. Nanjiu decided to try a new approach by fusing these two forms.
The inspiration for this came from that bottle of black and gold champagne. She had participated in an impromptu dance session at a bar at the end of South City Old Street. She felt that this type of activity could be carried out in a more open and diverse interactive format.
However, the problems that followed were daunting challenges. Such an event needed to be held in an open, preferably crowded, location. It required the production of related merchandise and posters, advance publicity, and the involvement of a large number of young people. Most importantly, it required funding.
With Lin Songyao showing no intention of supporting her, Nanjiu had no choice but to face the event plan independently, which was undoubtedly a huge challenge for a university student who had not yet entered the working world.
She could easily have abandoned the project, blaming it on the company's lack of funding. However, if she succeeded, it would be like securing a ticket to a formal career in the government after graduation. For Nan Jiu, approaching her senior year, she had no choice but to plan ahead for her future, seizing every opportunity to secure a promising future.
Regarding the venue, she contacted the managers of shopping malls that had previously hosted performances. After a round of calls, most managers said they had never hosted such an event before. They were concerned about the large number of young people causing unrest, and that delegating staff to maintain order would also place a certain burden on the mall's operations.
Nanjiu's work was met with setbacks right from the start, and she was repeatedly rejected. Rather than getting stuck in this impasse, she decisively adjusted her approach and focused on raising funds.
The street dance club had previously met numerous brands through competitions and events, both large and small. This time, she chose not to make cold calls, but instead visited each brand individually, braving temperatures approaching 40 degrees Celsius. Carrying a computer loaded with examples of international street dance events, she moved from conference room to conference room, providing vivid and in-depth insights to attendees. She also explained to each attendee that sponsoring the event didn't require a significant investment, but rather that brands could generate high-quality sales leads through the event, such as by encouraging users to register as members, follow the official account, or participate in interactive games. These leads had a significantly higher level of purchase intent than online data, and could be converted into high-value customers through telesales and social media engagement.
At the same time, the brand name and product information can be printed on promotional posters and peripheral products, and she can even provide opportunities for on-site product experience. She spares no effort to convince every potential investor with the bait of direct profit and quantifiable returns.
Finally, when Nanjiu visited the sixth store, the female manager in her early thirties gave her an affirmative smile.
Perhaps it was Nanjiu's eloquent manner and the energy she exuded, or perhaps it was her calm demeanor despite the recent thunderstorm that impressed the manager. In any case, Nanjiu secured her first sponsorship.
A few days later, Nanjiu received a call from a second brand. She had only worked with this brand once before, when she hadn't taken over the hip-hop dance club. She had added the brand's staff on WeChat when she was out competing with the club's then-president.
After she took over the club in her sophomore year, there was an offline event held by that brand, and the dance team had a sudden problem. The organizer contacted organizations everywhere, and although they were able to get people together, they were unable to practice the dance in just one hour. The staff posted an emergency message on WeChat Moments, which happened to be seen by Nanjiu. She and the club members rushed to the event site within half an hour. Without rehearsal or warm-up, they went on stage directly, pushing the atmosphere to a climax. The situation was urgent, and the brand did not ask Nanjiu for the appearance fee in advance. They were prepared to negotiate with the other party to ask for a higher price. However, Nanjiu left with her people after saving the situation. The brand has remembered this loyal girl since then, and this time, they came to repay her favor.
During this time, Nanjiu gained a capable assistant—Xia Yanran. It was unclear what motivated her, but ever since that brief conversation in the library, she'd been drawn to Nanjiu. Xia Yanran had rented a house and stayed away from home during the holidays, leaving her with little to do. Nanjiu, needing help, naturally welcomed her, offering her odd jobs. For example, she contacted advertising agencies, oversaw design and layout, and coordinated promotional work—tasks that align closely with Xia Yanran's expertise.
After securing the funds, the biggest challenge remained: venue. Nanjiu discovered that the brand she was collaborating with had a presence in a large shopping mall. She was drawn to the mall's large, open atrium, so she immediately contacted the brand's contact person and, that same day, brought the brand to the mall's manager to discuss the venue again.
Considering the brand's publicity and the boost to the mall's foot traffic during the event, and with the brand's mediation, the three parties held four days of repeated discussions before finalizing the event details and venue rental.
When Nanjiu handed the contract to Lin Songyao, a flash of surprise crossed his eyes. He signed, closed the pen cap, and handed the contract back to Nanjiu. He then leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment, a deeper scrutiny.
The most important part is still missing before the event can start - people.
Nanjiu sent a random playlist to the student group and gave lessons based on it, urging everyone to learn it in advance and participate. Most of her students, adoring her, responded enthusiastically to her call, and soon they were spontaneously organizing to buy uniforms. The club was full of people who loved to join in the fun; just a simple shout would draw a crowd. Nanjiu also contacted friends from her high school dance battle days. From there, word of the event spread throughout Fengshi's youth circles.
On the day of the event, a flash mob attracted the entire mall's crowd to the atrium. This novel and interesting method was new to most people, and the floors surrounding the atrium were packed with people looking down.
As the melody progressed and the chorus built, the crowds of dancers, standing and sitting on the sidelines, could no longer contain their excitement, rushing to the center to show off their dancing skills. This was a square dance for young people, perhaps even more frenzied than any other. Different rhythms intertwined, diverse styles collided, and anyone willing to join in was welcome to join in, whether they were professional dancers, busy office workers, students, or just passing through. The atmosphere was high, and waves of interaction surged. This event was a true celebration of youth culture based on civility and freedom.
Outside the crowd, Lin Songyao sat by the coffee shop window, his gaze piercing the glass as he took in the grand revelry. Then, his eyes fixed on a bustling, swift figure. He watched silently, unconsciously leaning back on the sofa. His once tense expression gradually relaxed.
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The author has a note: This chapter is the last time I mention a year. Because of the force majeure that occurred a few years later, I will not go into detail about the time background.
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