Chapter 50 Life's Journey
Before four o'clock, Nanjiu quit the game. She picked up her phone, stood up, and walked to the window. She leaned against the window frame, gazing at the rows of swaying tea trees.
She hadn't even remembered how long it had been since she slowed down, stopped answering the phone, skipped meetings, and left work to spend some quiet time alone.
Over the years, she'd marked every milestone in her life with precise timescales. At what age would she complete her studies, start a family, and achieve success? She'd woven all her values, positions, salaries, and the enviable marriage into a single, splendid garment. She wore it, day and night, never letting up, even breathing as if to prove something to the world.
Back when she first graduated from school, her dream was to open her own dance studio, where she could stretch her legs in the morning sun, twirl to music in the evening, and see her own clear reflection on the wooden floor.
Desire was a bottomless black hole, making her original dream seem small, outdated, even ridiculous. Her ideal, at some point, had transformed from a gentle hill into a towering peak that she had to climb.
The wind rustles the leaves outside the window, gently trembling with a soft, unhurried rustle. They always know when to grow, and even more so when to rest. Those leaves that must be plucked prematurely are merely life's way of pruning their branches, so that the entire tea mountain can sprout anew next spring.
Nan Jiu gazed at the layers of emerald green, his lips curling silently. Stop-loss isn't giving up; it's another form of growth.
She picked up the phone again and the time had jumped to 4 o'clock.
The rain beat down stubbornly for forty-eight hours. Nan Jiu looked at the world before him, washed clear yet muddy by the rain, and a surge of warmth surged from the deepest part of his chest, rushing to his eyes.
She finally witnessed this hard-won victory with her own eyes.
The surging heartbeat and the sound of rain mixed together, until the figure outside the window passed through the fence and walked into her eyes.
The door locked and Song Ting had just stepped into the house, yet before he could adjust to the light inside, a warm body wrapped in a sweet breeze rushed up to him and lightly jumped into his arms. Her slender legs wrapped around his waist, her soft hair brushed his cheek, and the sweet fragrance enveloped him.
The fiery warmth from Nan Jiu instantly dispelled his fatigue and travel fatigue, and gently rubbed his heart, allowing him to step into this reassuring tenderness.
Song Ting carried the heavy food in his hands, lowered his head, and rubbed his nose against her soft hair. His voice was full of doting: "Come down first, I'll put the things down."
She tightened her arms around him and kissed him without hesitation, tempting him to open his teeth. All the excitement and surging emotions turned into this passionate and lingering kiss.
The bag fell, and the potatoes rolled all over the floor. He lifted his hand to hold her, and the passionate kiss spread until they both sank into the spacious bed. Her thin dress was casually torn off, and a mischievous smile flickered in his eyes. "After all this time last night, are you thinking about it again?" His strong arms held her in a hot embrace. "With your irritability, who else could satisfy you?"
Nan Jiu raised his head as if waking from a dream, and slid his body from his warm arms to the head of the bed: "No, that's not what I meant."
He paused, the shirt he had just taken off still clutched in his hand, and his tone was filled with aroused anger: "What do you mean by that? You only set the fire and didn't put it out. Are you kidding me?"
Nanjiu pulled the thin blanket over her and covered her, twisting her lower body slightly: "Don't touch me, it hurts."
"Why does it hurt?"
Nan Jiu turned his face away: "Don't you know what's going on?"
"Let me see." He went to pull the quilt.
She grabbed the quilt and wrapped herself tightly.
Song Ting raised the corner of his mouth slightly: "Why are you shy with me?"
"I'm not shy," Nanjiu said awkwardly, "I'm just not used to it."
"Let me take a look. If it's swollen, I'll go find some medicine."
Nanjiu was shocked: "Where are you going to find medicine? The barefoot doctor in the village? How are you going to explain it to him?"
Song Ting pulled back the quilt and replied matter-of-factly, "What can I say? Tell the truth."
He leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against her legs without reservation.
Nanjiu couldn't help but tremble, his voice changing tone: "Is it swollen?"
"It's not swollen, just a little red." He stroked it gently with his fingertips.
She shuddered sensitively and heard his low, hoarse question: "Does it hurt?"
"Just... okay."
He chuckled softly: "Why are you shaking if it doesn't hurt?" His short hair brushed against the sensitive inside of her body, sending waves of itchiness straight into her heart.
As soon as she finished speaking, warm lips and tongue covered her, and the soft touch landed precisely on her vulnerable spot. Every lick pulled her bones away.
Nan Jiu gasped and arched his body, his fingers digging deep into the bed sheets, calling him impatiently: "Song Ting, don't..."
He seized upon her attempt to escape, intensifying it. The sound of water rippled ambiguously in the silence, and she craned her neck, like a fish cast ashore, the pleasure building up so quickly that she could no longer control herself.
After a moment of collapse, even her bones felt so weak.
The familiar breath invaded her again, and the lust in his eyes was like a raging fire, strangling her uncontrolled breathing again, and asked: "What now? Does it hurt or..."
Her watery eyes met his, and she bent her legs, softly wrapping them around his firm waist. This silent invitation, in his eyes, became a tsunami that stirred up the entire spring.
A deep possession instantly took away her entire soul.
She didn't understand what love was supposed to be, but now it was crystal clear. The joy he brought her was so overwhelming and direct that it broke through all her imagination.
"The sheets are all wet." He squeezed the last sliver of space between them, "He lets you do this too?"
She was forced to look up, her voice broken, "Only...you..."
He gazed at her melting into water and kissed her fiercely.
She completely lost herself in the spasms, and it was only after the people outside called her several times that her shattered consciousness came together again.
Song Ting had already stood up, put on his clothes, opened the door and walked out.
Nan Jiu realized it belatedly and pulled the quilt over himself.
Zhang Jiang and Zhen Min were standing in front of the fence. Seeing Song Ting walk out of the house, Zhang Jiang said, "Xiao Min said she hadn't seen Nan Jiu in two days. I asked her not to come, but she insisted on coming to see him."
If Zhang Jiang hadn't stopped her, Zhenmin would have come to see Nanjiu yesterday. In front of so many people, Song Ting had made Nanjiu cry. A lot of people in the village had been talking about it these past few days, and Zhenmin couldn't help but feel uneasy. A few days ago, Nanjiu had been burdened with so many things, but she hadn't even once been angry. Song Ting's return had left her feeling deeply wronged. Zhenmin had even told Zhang Jiang about this last night. Zhang Jiang had advised her to stay out of the couple's affairs.
Zhenmin felt uneasy, so she dragged Zhang Jiang over today and insisted on seeing Nanjiu in person to make sure she was not wronged again.
"Nanjiu is not in the room?" Zhenmin asked.
Song Ting stopped in the courtyard and replied, "Yes."
"I'll say a few words to her."
"She's asleep." Song Ting's tone was steady, but his breath was still not completely cooled down from what had just happened.
"It's not even dark yet, why are you going to bed so early?" Zhenmin tilted her head and looked inside suspiciously.
Zhang Jiang saw the fingerprints on Song Ting's neck, and the rise and fall of his chest as he spoke. As a fellow man, he immediately guessed something.
He quickly grabbed Zhenmin and said to her, "Let's go home and talk about it another day."
Zhen Min pulled her hand away and asked Song Ting, "Did you bully Nan Jiu?"
Song Ting cleared his throat and glanced at Zhang Jiang. Zhang Jiang immediately understood and forcibly dragged Zhen Min away.
Song Ting turned back inside. Nan Jiu was still clutching the corner of the quilt in her hand, the residual heat of her flush lingering beneath her skin. The sheet slid down to her waist, outlining the curve of her waist. The air was filled with a warm, sweet smell. She was lazy with satisfaction, and a faint smile played at the corner of her mouth. "It's a good thing Zhenmin didn't come in. If she had seen you bullying me like this, I'd probably be too embarrassed to see you again."
Song Ting walked to the bedside, his figure looming over her. The mattress sank, and a warm breath approached. He bent down, slipped his arms under her neck and between her knees, and lifted her from the still-warm quilt.
A soft moan escaped her throat, her fingers instinctively tugging at his shirt. These past two days of intense lovemaking had stretched every inch of her senses to the limit. Their damned physical connection was always so intense; the mere touch of his fingertips on her skin sent a familiar shiver shiver down her spine. Her body always recognized him before her heart could.
His kiss fell without hesitation, the lingering intensity of the previous kiss making her already confused mind feel dizzy.
He placed her on the soft slippers and patted her soft buttocks lightly: "Go wash it, I'll change the sheets."
When Nanjiu walked out of the bathroom, the bedding had been changed into a clean set. Song Ting washed the dishes, put them on a tray, and brought them over.
A thin layer of condensation formed on the windows, and the wooden house was shrouded in a dense curtain of rain, warm and peaceful.
The two of them sat around the table, waiting for the water to boil. Nan Jiu took out his phone, scrolled to the page, turned the phone around, and placed it in front of Song Ting.
The to-do list on the screen has piled up for several pages, and the red number of unprocessed emails keeps jumping up.
"The entire department and all stores are waiting for the spring plan for directly-operated cities, and it has been stuck with me for a week.
"This cross-border brand community platform is a collaboration that took us half a year to negotiate, and we'll launch our first round of investment next month. The team has been working countless overtime hours preparing roadshow materials for the past two months, and now all progress has stalled.
"The dance company will sign a contract with the new theater next week. I'm in charge of the project from the beginning to its completion. The choreographer is abroad and has already rescheduled his flight twice..."
She calmly laid out the events that could change the situation: unfinished projects, delayed contracts, rescheduled flights...each one affected the lives of many more people.
In the web of society, her daily life has long been woven into the plans of too many people.
To keep her by his side, he was willing to shoulder all the consequences for her. However, the consequences weren't measurable in monetary terms. They involved internal operational chaos and stagnation, the collapse of team morale and staff unrest, funding hiccups and debt risks, contract breaches and a collapse of market credibility... and, of course, the legal responsibilities and joint liabilities she would personally shoulder. All of this was bound to force Lin Songyao to take action. If Song Ting and Lin Songyao came to blows, Xingyao was destined to be the sacrificial lamb.
From beginning to end, she never mentioned that man. She just used a gentle showdown to let Song Ting see clearly that she would not allow Song Ting to touch Xingyao.
Xingyao is like a child she raised with her own hands. Over the years, she has used all her energy and dedication to nurture it and accompany it in its growth.
In the adult world, every step is treading on the tightrope of reality. This is the path she chose, and getting to this point is no longer a matter of a willful decision that can save her from it.
Song Ting lowered his eyes, his lips curled up in self-mockery. It turned out the intense heat he'd felt upon entering the room was merely a self-rescue trick played out by his brain. She patiently waited for the trumpet of victory to ring out before choosing this moment to confront him.
"These past few days, you didn't make a fuss, just to stay and see if this rain could last for 48 hours?"
Nan Jiu shook his head gently: "Without anyone around you, it's inconvenient to take a bath or change the dressing on your injury."
Silence flowed between the two of them. The hot pot on the table was bubbling with steam, making her outline a little blurred.
"Let's eat first." Song Ting put the dishes into the pot.
She has always enjoyed eating since she was a child. When she sees a dish she likes, her cheeks puff up like a hamster and her mouth moves faster than anyone else, afraid of missing a bite. Now that she is older, she eats more elegantly, but the wholehearted devotion and unfeigned satisfaction she shows when eating are still the same as when she was a child.
Nan Jiu raised his head, his eyes met his, and asked, "Can you be full by looking at me?"
"Nanjiu." He suddenly called her name.
"Um?"
"Can you quit without me?"
Nanjiu didn't respond, but picked up a few slices of meat rolls and dipped them into the boiling pot.
"I can't quit." He couldn't hide the jealousy in his eyes. He was jealous of that man, jealous that he could see her anytime, jealous that he could fight alongside her, jealous that there was a bond between them that was more solid and substantial than any intangible feeling.
"If you want to get married, go ahead. The high-speed rail line between Fengshi and Nancheng has opened, and it will take only two hours to get to your place. I'll visit you often to check on...your married life."
Nanjiu choked on his drink and coughed until his face turned red. "Are you kidding?"
The last trace of playfulness on Song Ting's face disappeared completely, and his voice was low: "Do you think I'm kidding?"
Nan Jiu put the cooked meat into his bowl, a smile spreading across his lips: "When you were in the car accident, were you also possessed by someone's soul?"
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