Chapter 19 Sophomore Year
When they reached the low-lying area, a group of men were already busy working there. Seeing Song Ting leading a delicate young woman to work in the fields, they jokingly asked, "Boss Song, why did you bring your family with you?"
"She volunteered. Zhang Jiang, she'll work with you."
Zhang Jiang was embarrassed: "Can she do it?"
"Who are you looking down on?" Nan Jiu interrupted.
Just after eight o'clock, the mountain sun began to burn fiercely. Nanjiu, wearing a sun-protective jacket, was so exposed to the sun that he couldn't open his eyes.
Song Ting explained the day's plans. Before leaving, he placed his hat on Nanjiu's head and headed to the other side of the bush with the other tea farmers. Nanjiu paused, adjusted the brim of his hat, and his sun-kissed brows gradually relaxed.
This was Nanjiu's first time doing ditching and canal dredging. The work in Zhangjiang was relatively easy. They had a chain trencher that could dig the ditch mechanically. The operator simply operated the machine and smoothed out the soil. Song Ting's team's work was purely physical. The trencher couldn't reach that side, so they had to dig manually. There was a lot of debris, so clearing it out took considerable effort.
Nan Jiu heard Zhang Jiang and the others talking about how heavy rain was expected to arrive the day after tomorrow. They only had two days, and half of the mountain still needed to be reinforced, so time was quite tight.
Nan Jiu followed Zhang Jiang and the others, observing for a few moments before learning the technique and then setting to work. She would occasionally glance in Song Ting's direction. With the hat in her hand, Song Ting's face was exposed to the scorching sun. Sweat streamed down his spine, and with each stroke of the shovel, his back muscles stretched and contracted like two wings. His arm muscles tensed in a firm arc, veins entwined like vines, revealing a man's most primal strength as he moved.
Nanjiu couldn't help but recall the image of him lifting Zhenmin with his strong, powerful arms. In the dim bungalow, his broad chest enveloped Zhenmin completely. The tough guy and the little village woman, a passionate fusion of passion and lust. Despite the blazing sun and flying mud, Nanjiu's mind couldn't stop the constant flashes of pornographic waste. Song Ting's both good and evil looks and aggressive figure, when he did that kind of thing, would probably make women unable to stop.
The actual images in her mind kept igniting the fire in Nanjiu's body, but she felt resentful about this nameless fire that held her captive, and could only vent this resentment on the shovel in her hand.
The men working with her were all amazed by her brute strength. A pale, frail girl, unable to lift anything, worked with such vigor that it was as if she were digging up someone's ancestral grave.
At noon, Zhenmin and Aunt Qin came to deliver lunch. Seeing Nanjiu working hard with a shovel under the scorching sun, Zhenmin was slightly startled. "Why are you here?"
Zhenmin's question made Nanjiu realize that, aside from her, all the people working were men. Mountain women typically pick and process tea leaves. When not busy, they tend to household chores. The heavy lifting and backbreaking work is handled by men. If Nanjiu hadn't insisted on working with Song Ting last night, even raising the issue of gender discrimination and discrimination, Song Ting wouldn't have brought her down.
Thinking about her personality, she would definitely be unhappy if he disagreed with her, so Song Ting simply let her suffer enough and go back early. Unexpectedly, after a whole morning, she didn't even complain of being tired, and was still as energetic as a cow.
The group moved to a shady area for dinner. Zhang Jiang and his men sat on the outskirts, leaving the shade for Nanjiu. When Song Ting came over, Zhang Jiang joked with him, "Your sister is as useful as a man." They didn't know the relationship between Song Ting and Nanjiu, and thought they were relatives brought by his family.
Song Ting smiled without further explanation, his eyes sliding down to Nanjiu. Nanjiu sat cross-legged on the floor, head bowed and eating. Her cross-legged posture was unusual, with her right foot resting on her left thigh and her left foot on her right thigh, her knees pressed low, her flexibility astonishing. A 19-year-old boy next to her was working with his father, and everyone called him Junzi. Junzi tried to imitate Nanjiu's sitting posture, but before he could even lift one leg, he grimaced in pain.
Nan Jiu looked at his funny appearance, a smile on his lips, and kindly reminded him: "Your ligament is too stiff, don't bend it hard, be careful not to hurt yourself."
Zhen Min walked over to Song Ting, handed him the meal, and sat down beside him. Nan Jiu turned his gaze to look at them, his smile still on his face, but the light in his eyes was quietly pulled.
The 18+ scene that had been flashing through her mind all morning was the male and female protagonists sitting opposite her. At this moment, she could no longer look at them. She simply leaned back against the tree, thinking out of sight, out of mind.
After a while, footsteps were heard behind the tree. Nan Jiu lowered her eyes. Song Ting's thick-soled boots stepped over the haystack and stopped beside her. He said to her, "Go back with Zhenmin and the others. Your back has only been injured for a few days. Don't tire yourself out."
Nan Jiu stood up, took off her hat and patted it on his chest. Without a word, she turned and walked away. Song Ting turned around and watched her stride away. He felt that she was angry, although he didn't know what she was angry about. Logically, it was noon, and her irritability should have dissipated long ago.
As the sun was setting, everyone decided to go home for dinner, and then go to Lao Ba's house to discuss the tea garden inspection in the next few days.
Song Ting delivered the tools to Lao Ba's house and stayed there for dinner. Zhen Min came around from the back of the house carrying freshly cooked dishes. When there were many people around, Aunt Qin would usually invite her to eat with them.
Sang Ya pulled Song Ting over and showed him the words on the ground. They were the 26 uppercase and lowercase letters she had just written with a branch. The last time Song Ting came to teach her, the little girl learned quickly and could already write quite well. Song Ting felt his pockets and found nothing to eat. He could only smile and give her a thumbs-up.
Looking up, Song Ting saw his clothes hanging on the clothesline in front of the house. He turned to glance at Zhen Min, who was wiping the table. Zhen Min noticed his gaze, turned her head to look over, dropped the rag, and walked out of the house.
"You took my clothes?"
"It's inconvenient for you to wash it here, so I washed it for you."
"No need next time." Song Ting retracted his gaze and walked into the house. When he reached the door, he stopped and turned around. "Did Xiaojiu go to wash clothes with you this morning?"
"I'll bring her breakfast and show her the way along the way."
Song Ting looked away and said nothing more.
Nan Jiu already knew the way and came here just in time for dinner. After entering the house, she glanced at Song Ting, then awkwardly walked around him and sat across from him.
During the meal, Song Ting and Uncle Eighth talked about the wind direction for the next two days. When mentioning the patrol arrangements, Song Ting said, "I'll be on duty tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. It's more convenient for me to stay downstairs."
Uncle Eight said, "How can you come two days in a row? Your body can't handle it."
"It's okay. I'll get up if I tell you to. You guys don't have to come down, or the whole family won't be able to sleep well at night."
Nan Jiu was holding her bowl, eating absentmindedly until the key words "down there" and "alone" triggered her hearing.
Zhenmin said this morning that she lived in the house behind Aunt Qin's house, but Song Ting lived downstairs. Although Nanjiu didn't know where downstairs meant, it was definitely not here.
After dinner, Nan Jiu helped clear the table. Before leaving, she glanced at Song Ting and asked, "Will you accompany me back to take a shower?"
Everyone in the room, except Sang Ya, had a slightly strange look on their faces. Nan Jiu immediately realized there was something ambiguous about what she said; when she said "take a bath with her," she meant watching from outside the shower room, not taking a bath with her.
But the words were out, and she was too lazy to explain. She glanced at Song Ting. Song Ting put down the tea, stood up and walked out with her.
Aunt Qin went to run the bath water for Sang Ya. Uncle Ba took out a cigarette and lit it. Zhen Min clutched the rag, wringing out the water in circles.
The pale moonlight floated over the tea ridges, and the tea's fragrance, as if soaked in dew, became even more distinct. Nan Jiu walked in front, Song Ting followed behind. The mountain's shadows, like the backs of animals, lay silently.
The night wind blew the voice behind him away into the darkness: "I didn't know Zhenmin went downstairs this morning and brought my clothes up."
His voice melted into the wind, touching his skin and stirring a subtle shudder. This explanation came so casually, without any preparation or reason, but it was sharper than the shovel in the daytime, piercing Nanjiu's heart without warning.
She was silent all the way until she stepped into the shower room and bolted the door. Only then did her voice escape from the sound of water: "Do you have that kind of relationship with her?"
Song Ting stood at the top of the hill, his back to her: "What kind of relationship?"
"The kind of relationship where she does your laundry."
A light laugh rolled out of his throat. "You've been staring at me all morning thinking about this?"
Nan Jiu's little thoughts were exposed by Song Ting, but fortunately, her hot cheeks were immersed in the water, so he couldn't see it. Usually, if she didn't want to admit something, she would pretend to be deaf and pretend not to hear what Song Ting said.
Not until the sound of water stopped did Song Ting's voice resound through the door: "I'm not as romantic as you think."
When Nan Jiu opened the door, Song Ting's back had already walked away, leaving behind a sentence: "I have something else to do, you should go to bed early and stop thinking about it."
Sang Ya went to bed early, so Aunt Qin took her back to her room. Zhen Min stayed behind to make tea for the people who came to discuss matters.
When Song Ting entered the house, the others had already finished their meal and rushed over. Zhen Min raised her eyes, her gaze swept over him, and silently picked up a cup of hot tea and handed it to Song Ting.
The rainy season every year is a disaster for tea mountains. In addition to taking preventive measures in advance, patrol and rescue work is also very important when heavy rains officially arrive.
After discussing for over half an hour, a commotion outside interrupted the conversation. Lao Ba opened the door and stuck his head out. He saw Yonggen from the same village running back in a panic, calling for help. He asked, "Genzi, what happened?"
Yonggen pointed to the top of the hill and said, "Someone dragged a girl from some family to the tea ridge and bullied her. Aunt Qing saw it when she went to the toilet and told me to come back and call the police."
These words were like a sharp knife, instantly piercing the originally harmonious atmosphere in the room. Song Ting suddenly stood up and strode out of the room.
While there were indeed many families with daughters in the village, there were very few villagers living on the hilltop. The village was so small, and everyone was around. To do this to a fellow villager would require sheer determination. The warehouse was built on the hilltop, and Nanjiu lived there alone. No matter how strong that large iron gate was, it couldn't withstand a well-premeditated criminal.
Night had already fallen, and the mountaintops were pitch black. Song Ting felt his heart gripped tightly by an icy hand, the wind whistling incessantly past his ears. The closer he got to the warehouse, the more intense the suffocating feeling, tinged with the smell of rust, grew, like a tide laden with ice slag, slowly drowning his mouth and nose. The air grew thicker, and his mother's pale, colorless face flashed before his eyes. A cold, irreversible despair instantly consumed his sanity.
The star-like lights on the top of the mountain appeared in his sight, and the beast in Song Ting's body roared out and broke open the door.
Nan Jiu, who was in the room, had his back to the door. He was startled by the loud noise and turned around suddenly. He was still holding the whirring hair dryer in his hand and stared at Song Ting in surprise.
At that moment, his sight froze, and all the fears that were tearing at him, those worst, bloody imaginations, dissipated like the tide. The beast that was about to burst out of his chest had not yet subsided, his breathing rose and fell violently, and his eyes were fixed on her.
The shattered look in Song Ting's eyes, carrying a thousand-pound weight, hit Nan Jiu's heart.
Nanjiu froze for a moment, turned off the hair dryer, and held his breath: "What's wrong with you?"
All his outward emotions were forced back into his body with almost cruel force, and he asked aloud, "Were you in the house the whole time?"
"Yeah, what else?" Nan Jiu frowned, realizing something was wrong, "What happened?"
The fluctuation in his eyes subsided, and he replied, "I heard from the villagers that a girl was in trouble."
Although Song Ting didn't say clearly what happened, Nan Jiu probably guessed what it was because he rushed over and broke down the door so late at night.
She put down the hair dryer, basking in a halo of warm yellow light, her white-blonde hair falling over her shoulders. She tilted her head slightly, her narrowed eyes like those of a dangerous feline, with a touch of casual predation. "So you thought I was the one in trouble?"
She slowly turned around, her milky white nightgown shimmering softly like flowing water as she moved, draping naturally around her mature curves. The undulating image, looming in the dim light, was both pure and yet carried a heart-pounding devastation.
His breath suddenly stopped deep in his throat, and blood flowed back in his eardrums, making a dangerous rumbling sound.
She had known since she was a child how to use a blunt knife to repeatedly cut at the same spot, tearing his heart apart. She had previously pointed at his identity, repeatedly telling him he had no right to control her, warning him he was an outsider. Now that she had grown up, she had changed her tactics. She could easily grasp a man's vital points, a gentle pull, and he would lose his mind.
If she weren't Old Man Nan's granddaughter, Song Ting might have let her experience the consequences of provoking him behind closed doors, but he couldn't touch her. Old Man Nan's kindness was as heavy as a mountain to Song Ting, a father figure even more so than a father. To have inappropriate thoughts about his young granddaughter right under Old Man Nan's nose was unkind and disregarded human ethics.
Song Ting held his breath in his chest, turned his eyes away, and said to her, "I just came over to check on you. I hope you're okay."
He turned around and prepared to leave.
"So what about now?" Her voice slowed him down, like a fine feather brushing across his heart. "Is it because of Grandpa that you're so worried about me getting into trouble?"
He didn't answer, and a long silence stretched between them. The air seemed to be taut with an invisible string, vibrating with a humming sound that seemed ready to break at any moment.
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