Lyrics of Chapter 392
Zhang Yueran walked out of the army compound under the shade of the plane trees and hailed a taxi.
The car drove through the gradually bustling streets and finally stopped at the entrance of that familiar antique street.
On both sides of the alley, time-honored shops are lined up one after another.
A birdcage hangs outside an antique shop, from which comes the clear, melodious chirping of a thrush; a picture framing shop emits a faint smell of paste.
She walked along the cobblestone path and stopped in front of a two-story building. This was Zhou Xingzhi's shop and studio.
Bamboo curtains hang under the eaves, and a plaque with gold characters on a black background hangs above the door.
Through the open, carved wooden door, you can see the well-arranged antique shelves inside, displaying various porcelain pieces.
Two young men were entertaining guests; one was wiping a rosewood table, and the other was showing the guests calligraphy and paintings.
Standing outside the door, Zhang Yueran hesitated to go in for a moment... After a while, she took out a small round mirror from her canvas bag.
The girl in the mirror had rosy cheeks and eyes as bright as black agate immersed in water.
She took a deep breath, trying to encourage herself: after all, he was a top student from Peking University, not bad-looking, and had a bright future... although that person was indeed much better looking than her, and his knowledge was far beyond her reach...
Just as they were hesitating, the customers in the shop left.
The tall waiter, Amin, saw her and waved enthusiastically, "Comrade Zhang, come in and have a cup of tea while you wait!"
Zhang Yueran was taken aback: "Boss Zhou... has guests?"
"She's meeting with guests upstairs," Ah Ming poured her a cup of Biluochun tea. "They've been chatting for a while, they should be downstairs soon."
As the tea gradually cooled, footsteps finally echoed down the wooden stairs.
The woman who came down was a woman in her late twenties, wearing a light purple dress, with her long hair loosely tied up, and her eyes and brows exuding the gentle beauty of the Jiangnan water towns.
Zhang Yueran gripped her teacup tightly, staring down at the tips of her shoes, wanting to run out the door and escape from the room filled with sandalwood and the faint scent of perfume left by that girl.
The woman had barely stepped out the door when Ah Ming called upstairs, "Boss, Comrade Zhang is here!"
Zhang Yueran put down her teacup, her fingertips trembling slightly.
Since we're already here, we should at least get to the bottom of this.
These days of being suspended in mid-air are more grueling than dealing with the most complex formulas in a laboratory.
Zhang Yueran thanked Amin for the tea and turned to go up the stairs.
The old wooden steps creaked softly beneath her feet, each sound like a rhythmic beat for her anxious heartbeat.
The upstairs area is a hidden paradise.
A pair of Ming-style official hat chairs were placed by the window, separated by a small rosewood table.
Zhou Xingzhi sat where the light and shadow intersected, the sleeves of his moon-white summer shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing a section of his slender wrist.
He was making tea, his slender fingers guiding the celadon teapot with fluid, graceful movements.
Zhang Yueran sighed inwardly for the umpteenth time, thinking that this person was so handsome it was infuriating.
Zhou Xingzhi looked up, his gaze lingering for a moment on her forehead, which was damp with fine sweat: "Why did you come here in such hot weather?"
His voice was as gentle as ever, but it instantly brought out all the pent-up grievances that Zhang Yueran had been holding back.
She took a step forward, her voice trembling: "Are you concerned about me? Don't you really know why I came?"
As soon as she spoke, her eyes welled up with tears and turned red. "Zhou Xingzhi, you're so smart... don't you really feel anything at all?"
Zhou Xingzhi silently watched the tears welling up in her eyes, his gaze like that of someone admiring a fragile piece of porcelain through a glass case in a museum.
After a long silence, he sighed softly, "What I wrote in the letter... was all from the heart."
"I don't believe it!" Zhang Yueran took two more steps forward.
"Do you... have someone else you like? Like that girl from earlier?"
"No."
"So you really don't like...me?" Her voice was as soft as a whisper.
The attic was so quiet that you could hear the sounds of the shopkeeper wiping the porcelain downstairs, and the calls of apricot blossom vendors drifted in from outside the window, long and drawn out as if from another world.
Zhou Xingzhi looked at the girl.
She wore a light blue long dress today, with the ginkgo leaf brooch he had given her last year pinned to the neckline. The light from the window shone on her stubbornly upturned face, making even the fine downy hairs clearly visible.
How could he not like it?
He loved how she ignited his dormant life like a flame, loved the light in her eyes when she looked at him, and loved the pure joy in her clear laughter.
But... his fingertips gripped the Xiangfei folding fan tightly in his hand.
"Yueyue...you are wonderful, you deserve better."
Tears streamed down Zhang Yueran's face. "I just want to be with you, I'll do anything! We were so happy communicating and chatting before, why did you have to push me away..."
Zhou Xingzhi got up and walked closer, bringing with him a faint scent of sandalwood.
He raised his hand and gently wiped away the tears from the corner of her eyes with his fingertips. The action was so sudden that Zhang Yueran forgot to dodge and just stared at him with teary eyes.
"Someone like me..." he looked down at the dampness on his fingertips, "is unworthy of your sincerity."
Zhang Yueran suddenly grabbed his hand as he was about to pull it back.
This was the first time she had taken his hand on her own initiative.
In the past, she always kept her distance carefully, afraid of offending him.
But she thought that since he was willing to wipe away her tears, he must also have feelings for her.
"Zhou Xingzhi," she mustered her courage and tightened her grip on his fingers, "I've always wanted to tell you, I really like you..."
Her warm palms, like a piece of warm jade, enveloped his slightly cool fingertips, and that warmth traveled through his veins and burned into his heart.
Zhou Xingzhi looked at their clasped hands, recalling the ink stains he had deliberately left on the letter, and the anxiety he had felt these past few days waiting by the window for her.
He had intended to use that resolute letter to force out her true feelings, but he hadn't expected that he would be the one to suffer first.
When Zhou Xingzhi heard Amin say that she had arrived, he felt his heart stop for a moment.
Thankfully, she did come looking for him.
"Yueyue, you're so wonderful..." His voice was hoarse. She was like the first ray of sunshine in early spring, making him, a man who had long lived in seclusion, both yearn for her and feel apprehensive.
"You're fine too," she retorted hastily, her fingers unconsciously tightening.
Zhou Xingzhi suddenly flipped his wrist and intertwined his fingers with hers. This action startled both of them slightly; his usually restrained fingertips betrayed his reason first.
"Forgive me for that letter... I just..." I was just afraid that he was not worthy of such a passionate heart.
But when she really didn't come, the empty waiting made him realize that once some light shines into a life, it's hard to bear the darkness after its loss.
Zhang Yueran was naturally unaware of his complicated thoughts; she only felt a tingling and burning sensation in his fingers, which were holding hers, and even her ears felt like they were on fire.
She asked nervously, "Then...do you like me?"
"I like it very much," he answered without hesitation.
Suddenly, the sound of Ah Ming, the waiter, humming drifted in from outside the window, and the melodious strains of a traditional opera floated upstairs.
"A white jade fan adorned with twin butterflies, a red bean hairpin secretly symbolizing our shared love... How could I bear to part with this beautiful night under the full moon in the western tower..."
As Zhou Xingzhi listened to the lyrics, he felt as if every word struck his heart.
He tightened his grip on Zhang Yueran's fingers, his phoenix eyes fixed intently on her face.
Zhang Yueran's ears burned under his gaze. She tried to pull her hand away, but he gripped it even tighter. "Don't try to pull away. Now that I've got you, I don't want to let go."
Zhou Xingzhi took her hand and led her to the edge of the multi-treasure pavilion, where he took down a brocade box.
Open it, and inside lies a jade love knot, its color warm and lustrous, its carving exquisite.
"This one is from the Ming Dynasty. It was originally a pair. The other one..." He paused, "is with me."
"Zhou Xingzhi...this is..."
Zhou Xingzhi raised his hand and put the jade buckle around her neck.
"That letter... I took it back. We..."
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