Chapter 63 The Year of Purest Love
Jiang Meng couldn't live with Chen Jizhou. Their respective residences were close to their workplaces, so he would always come to her place for one night, sometimes not even overnight, as he wanted to sleep in a little longer in the morning, or she would come to see him when she had a holiday.
After the initial awkwardness and adjustment period, and as things gradually improved, Jiang Meng discovered that it was addictive. She used to watch adult films and thought the actresses' performances were exaggerated, even worrying that she couldn't make those kinds of sounds. But when it really came to that point, everything flowed naturally. Her voice, too, came out exaggeratedly. It was embarrassing, but also very pleasurable.
However, Chen Jizhou wasn't very satisfied with her iron bed. It was fine for sleeping, but doing anything else was a bit noisy, and he wasn't one to restrain himself. After all, he considered himself to be in the prime of his life, full of vigor and vitality, and when he really couldn't stand it anymore, he simply picked her up and slammed her against the wall.
Jiang Meng continued to practice relentlessly, and in less than half a year, she was already able to spar with Qi Yunqing.
However, Chen Jizhou didn't think beating Qi Yunqing was anything to be proud of, because Qi Yunqing wasn't really focused on playing basketball. Sure enough, upon learning that Jiang Meng and Chen Jizhou were dating, Qi Yunqing was so depressed that he didn't come to see him for a week. Chen Jizhou stopped trying to provoke him with his good looks and honestly told him: "This really has nothing to do with you. We've known each other for a long time. Although you're not as good-looking, your emotional foundation isn't as strong either."
This made the other person even more frustrated.
The happiest time is when I finish playing ball at night in winter and have dinner with my ball-playing buddies.
Jiang Meng and the two girls slowly took a shower and came over. When they arrived at the barbecue stall, Chen Jizhou was already sitting there.
He was the first to arrive, took over a table, and was sitting on a plastic stool, looking down at his phone. His windbreaker and sweatpants were both black, sharp and flamboyant. His short hair had just been trimmed, clean and neat. His legs were open without restraint, and he was leisurely playing electronic mahjong with his phone between his legs.
Jiang Meng noticed that he had recently developed a new hobby and had become addicted to his phone. She knew that Chen Jizhou knew a little mahjong, but his skill level was neither good nor bad, and he didn't play much. Jiang Meng sat down and said, "So you're planning to venture into a new field again?"
He held the small phone in his slender fingers, staring intently at the screen, studying it: "Instead of advancing, I'm figuring out how to lose cleverly."
She laughed: "Which leader are you planning to defect to?"
He actually said, "You'll find out later."
Jiang Meng was surprised for a moment, then laughed and said, "Sure enough, people will all become the kind of people they hate—mercenary!"
Chen Jizhou glanced at her, then hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but didn't.
...Never mind, how could she possibly understand his good intentions?
He continued to lower his head and play his cards.
Ye Zhaoxu didn't have any particular hobbies, except for playing cards. She was the type who was bad at it but loved to play; once she sat down at the card table, she was just throwing money away. Chen Jizhou figured it out: if his mother wouldn't help him, he'd take matters into his own hands and work hard to become the perfect son-in-law in his mother-in-law's eyes. After all, he'd honed his tongue for ten years, reaching new heights, and he refused to believe he couldn't please her.
Chen Jizhou didn't particularly like barbecue; he usually maintained a healthy diet and lifestyle, emphasizing his physical fitness. Jiang Meng, however, loved it; her life revolved around vibrant flavors. Jiang Meng enthusiastically grabbed some skewers and asked him, "Is this enough?"
Chen Jizhou didn't even look up: "Take more."
"So generous!"
"Whoever loses treats. I never spend money on these kinds of gatherings, so eat as much as you want."
Jiang Meng laughed and said, "Then I'll go get two more chicken wings."
"Go."
When she returned, she sat down happily and nudged his knee: "Never spends a penny? You really have lived a life of luxury."
Chen Jizhou lowered his head, gave a slight smile, and reviewed his glorious record: "To be honest, of all my defeated opponents, only Xie Zhuo can pose any threat to me."
Jiang Meng didn't believe it: "Really? But he said you can't outdrink him."
Chen Jizhou spoke in a lazy, casual tone, saying things in a particularly unserious manner, yet sounding as if it were the truth: "That's how he is, acting like a boss behind my back, but like a grandson in front of me."
Jiang Meng was unsure: "Huh, you mean Xie Zhuo?"
“Of course,” Chen Jizhou turned off his phone, relaxed his brows and looked at her, “I’ll meet him another day. I wonder if he’s encountered any formidable opponents on the court these past few years. I need to give him a good spur.”
Jiang Meng praised him first, her sweet words ringing out: "He definitely can't compare to you."
"That goes without saying." Chen Jizhou smiled with satisfaction, squeezed her soft and gentle hand, and looked down at her. "Be my cheerleader, and don't you dare betray me."
Jiang Meng nodded solemnly, smiled, and raised her fists, shaking them: "I'll cheer you on, and cheer him on until the oil leaks!"
Chen Jizhou raised an eyebrow and said, "You should have spoiled me like this a long time ago."
(Xie Zhuo, who was far away in Beijing, sneezed. Su Yu, who was next to him, asked him if he had caught a cold due to the change of seasons. Xie Zhuo replied casually: No, it must be that two people were cursing at me.)
The table was full of young people in their twenties. Some were familiar, some were not, but they could all quickly become friends because of playing ball. Jiang Meng was quite happy at first, until they played a finger-bending game. One of the questions was whether they had ever written a love letter to someone. Everyone at the table bent a finger, but Chen Jizhou didn't move.
Jiang Meng looked at him with disbelief, her eyes demanding: Who did you write love letters to?
Chen Jizhou responded with an emoji: Don't you know?
Jiang Meng frowned: Who exactly did you write a love letter to?
Chen Jizhou: You really don't know?
Her apartment building wasn't far away. That night, on their walk back together, Jiang Meng couldn't help but ask him, "You wrote it for me? I didn't receive it. Hand it over so I can see it."
Judging from her thoughtful expression, it's as if she's been pondering this all night.
"You didn't receive it?" Chen Jizhou smiled meaningfully. "Really? Then who received it? I need to think about it carefully."
Jiang Meng's hands were outstretched, her face a mixture of grievance and confusion. Looking at his nonchalant attitude, she was so angry that bubbles were practically coming out of her nostrils: "You think about it now."
He gently patted her palm, took her hand and walked forward, opening with a bold statement: "Back in the day, I was still wearing my school uniform."
I never thought that I would have to use the phrase "back in the day" when reminiscing about high school.
At that time, the school had a magazine called "Oasis," which held a three-line poem activity every quarter. Chen Jizhou also wrote one and submitted it. He went to the class representative of the grade leader, a little boy wearing glasses, who was flipping through the manuscripts in his hand. As soon as Chen Jizhou went over, he slapped his manuscript down there and said, "Don't look at it, choose mine."
The boy looked up, adjusted his glasses, and hesitated for a second or two. He glanced at the imposing Chen Jizhou, then tremblingly took the paper from his hand. He scanned it, stammered, and looked angry but dared not speak: "This, this is a three-line poem. Yours... yours is already thirty lines long."
Chen Jizhou stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking down at the crowd, looking particularly shrewish: "What's wrong? Aren't they all three-digit multiples? Stop talking nonsense and hurry up and log on."
"..."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Director Tao, who was used to playing cat and mouse with him, came to inspect the office. He spotted Chen Jizhou at a glance and sternly reprimanded him: "Don't let him publish it!"
Chen Jizhou smiled helplessly, pinched his thin piece of paper, and shook it: "I was inspired to write poetry, poured my heart and soul into it, and spent the whole night writing it. I've used up all my writing skills in this life. Don't be so disappointing, teacher."
Old Tao looked him up and down, then solemnly stretched out his hand: "Let me see."
"That won't do." Chen Jizhou crossed his arms and tucked the paper into his pocket. "This is for the person I love."
He just smiled lazily, not serious at all, and even his "beloved" was used as a pretext by the teacher in front of him, although there was a hint of love on his face.
Old Tao was so angry his voice cracked: "If you can't handle it, then get out!"
"I won't leave until you let me log in."
Chen Jizhou moved a stool next to the boy and sat down, leaning against the edge of the table, looking at Lao Tao with a confrontational gaze.
Old Tao put his hands behind his back and said, "Chen Jizhou, are you going to throw a tantrum and threaten suicide here with me too?"
Chen Jizhou couldn't help but laugh. "This word 'also' has quite a story behind it. Is there anyone more shameless than me?"
Then, in the blink of an eye, he came up with another mischievous idea: "Hanging is fine, I'll go find a rope."
...
Looking back now, Chen Jizhou realizes he did some foolish things. During his most innocent and loving year, he wrote love poems for a girl despite his poor writing skills.
Looking back on today, everything faded away with his smile. "Oasis" magazine is probably out of print by now," he thought for a moment and said, "The past is the past, let's not talk about it anymore."
In Yunzhou, it snows in winter. Just as he said this, some snowflakes began to fall from the sky. He was a little warmer, and Jiang Meng felt cold, so she went to him to warm her up. As his hand was held, she didn't feel the cold at all. Looking into his smiling eyes, she felt that he was deliberately trying to provoke her, and asked plaintively, "Who did you write love letters to?"
"It's all in the past."
"Chen Jizhou".
"Um."
She pouted and said, "I love you."
He said that, but his expression was still bitter.
He smiled and nodded: "Okay."
Jiang Meng was extremely anxious and stamped her foot: "So who did you write a love letter to?"
Chen Jizhou bent down, looked at her complex expression, smiled brightly in the winter snow, and asked, word by word, "Jiang Meng, are you jealous?"
"Of course not, I haven't received any!"
Seeing that she was about to cry from grievance, although it was very likely that she was faking it, Chen Jizhou still hugged her tightly and honestly confessed: "Idiot, who else besides you has the ability to make me spend time?"
"Oh..." She paused for a moment, realizing it was indeed for her, and her mood and tone improved considerably. "Then show it to me."
He laughed and said, "Where am I supposed to find it for you? The magazine is gone."
Jiang Meng fell silent and stayed quietly in his arms for a while.
She was wearing a warm cotton coat. Chen Jizhou lowered his head, burying half his face in her fluffy hat. His tone became more serious: "I thought you had seen it. Otherwise, how could you have thought that I had confessed to you?"
Which episode?
"The one after your essay."
The next issue? Jiang Meng had no recollection of it; she didn't read every issue of that magazine. She said softly, "That's because you told me on QQ, so I thought that counted too."
Chen Jizhou thought for a while, then remembered, and patted her head with a smile and a hint of coaxing: "That counts, that counts."
Jiang Meng quickly regained her composure and smiled again: "Okay, I forgive you."
She had her hair tied in a ponytail, and raised her eyes to reflect the lamplight. Chen Jizhou touched the snow on her cheek and said slyly, "Should I not tell you, so you can be jealous for a little longer?"
Jiang Meng scoffed: "That's unreasonable. You're building your happiness on other people's unhappiness."
He laughed, his shoulders shaking: "But you look kind of cute when you're annoyed."
She shook off his hand and walked into the building. The bodyguard immediately followed, eager to return as soon as possible, as he still needed to practice his mahjong for a while.
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