Chapter 52
The plan to expand overseas markets has been decided, and someone needs to be sent to take charge of the situation. In terms of ability and qualifications, Mo Daoyan is the most suitable candidate. According to his idea, he can come back in two or three years at most, when the office there is on track. He wants to take her with him, and the reasons he uses are all what she said, that they have just reunited and have not had enough of their own world.
Going abroad with him was a rare opportunity, but Tong Yufei had no choice. Even without Ye Yimo, he had his own plans. After returning in two years, he could certainly find a leisurely and high-paying job, but to produce substantial news, he had to take root in this land. The rapid development and changes here were an inexhaustible source of topics.
"I'm not going." She took two quick steps and walked side by side with him, rubbing the Band-Aid on her index finger. The wound cut by the pencil sharpener had stopped bleeding, leaving only a faint burning sensation. "You're on business, so what's the point of me tagging along?"
"If your family is accompanying you, you can apply for a family visa for overseas assignments." He slowed his pace. "Nowadays, many newspapers have overseas bureaus, and their correspondent stations are short-staffed. Are you worried about not having a place to put your talents? Going abroad and broadening your experience will only benefit your work."
"How long have I been a reporter? I haven't even understood domestic news yet, so why would anyone want me?"
"It doesn't matter where you start. Once you've built up enough connections back home, you might be reluctant to leave. I'm not going to leave you alone. Don't I have you?"
"If Daoxing leaves, we'll leave too. What will happen to grandma?"
"You might not know this, but my second uncle's grandfather is my cousin Xu Ying's father. After my great-aunt passed away, he missed my wife so much that he moved his business to my great-aunt's hometown, Changsha, and opened a Han embroidery workshop. He's also recently opened a private museum in my wife's name. My wife has been clamoring to see Han embroidery and stay with my brother for a while, probably for at least six months." He took out a cigarette case, knocked out a cigarette between his palm, and held it between his fingers. "She has a son and a daughter, so you don't have to pick up the pieces. If you're worried about someone else, I can find someone to help take care of them."
Tong Yufei paused for a moment after hearing this: "Who to take care of?"
"Your father, who else can you not let go of?"
"Oh, he's fine now."
Tong Jianzhong was a bricklayer. His skills were superb in his youth, and he was a popular figure in the surrounding area, with endless work to do. Zhao Weimin, his apprentice, was lazy and unskilled, and he never became a full-fledged apprentice. To support Tong Wan's family and fill the hole left by the prodigal Tong Yi, Tong Jianzhong had to work tirelessly. Years of hard work left him with a serious back injury, and before he was sixty, his hair had turned completely white. Fortunately, Tong Wan and his wife's business is now thriving. Tong Yi hasn't contacted her since she left home, but she heard from Tong Wan that he had made a small fortune selling houses in Hainan, and the family's financial pressure has finally eased. Tong Jianzhong no longer has to travel day and night like before, and his body is gradually getting stronger.
"Sister Cheng Yuan is having a hard time. She's pregnant with her second child, and the country is strictly enforcing family planning. Having more than one child means losing her job. Her husband is a lawyer, so it's not a big deal. But after years of being a daughter-in-law, she's finally become a mother-in-law, and it's hard to keep her position as a mid-level manager. So she had an abortion. But after all, it was her own flesh and blood, and she blames herself. She's a little broken both physically and mentally." She paused. "There are only two people in her team who can do field work, including me. If I quit now, it wouldn't be a complete disaster, but she would really be left without anyone to help her. I think..."
"You think you're the Bodhisattva Guanyin, the savior of suffering. Grandma needs you, Cheng Yuan can't live without you, and the domestic journalism industry depends on you to flourish..." He struck a match, and the orange-red flame danced in the night. "Add Tong Zhaoyang to the mix. Without you, life has no meaning. Life would be worse than death."
She raised her head suddenly, her voice almost trembling: "Stop making trouble here, I have no contact with him."
Oh, no contact? The lie went so smoothly. Although he was angry, he didn't want to embarrass himself by arguing with her in the street. He put out the fire with a sullen face, called a taxi, handed the driver twenty yuan, gave him the address, and asked him to take her home. After she got in, he turned around and left with determination.
Tong Yufei looked through the dusty car window, watching Mo Daoyan's back completely blend into the night, and then he said softly, "Master, drive."
----
Tong Yufei returned home alone. After waiting for several hours, Mo Daoyan still had not returned.
Outside the window, the sky is high and the clouds are light, the moon is bright and the stars are sparse. The Mid-Autumn Festival is approaching. She tossed and turned in bed, staring at the sparse stars in a daze. It seems that there has always been a little bit of perfection missing in these years. She has never spent a complete festival with her brother. This year, her brother's surgery is scheduled for two days before the festival. Even if they can spend the reunion night together, they can only stay in the hospital. However, she does not have to work, and her time is flexible. As long as she does not encounter an emergency situation of going out for an interview or rushing to finish a manuscript, she can always find time to accompany her brother.
I waited like this until late at night, feeling a little sleepy, and finally heard the sound of the key turning.
She hurriedly stood up to greet him, and the moment he pushed the door open, she opened it first and handed him slippers: "Daoyan, you're back."
He ignored her, didn't take the shoes from her hand, didn't even meet her gaze, and passed her in silence. He got a change of clothes from the room and went into the bathroom. The sound of running water was annoyingly clear in the silent night. He waited a while longer, and the sound of water next door finally stopped. He came out wearing navy blue pajamas, the top button undone, revealing a section of his well-defined collarbone. His hair and face were still wet, even his Adam's apple was covered with water beads. A blue towel was casually draped over his shoulders.
She poured a glass of water and followed him to the room: "You must be thirsty after taking a shower, drink some water."
Seeing her come in, he didn't say anything, but just wiped his face with a towel casually, then turned around to plug in the hair dryer.
She moved a stool and placed it gently behind him: "I'll help you."
Mo Daoyan sat down, eyes slightly closed. She stood behind him, turning the hair dryer to medium speed. The machine started up with a tractor-like roar. She held the hair dryer in her right hand and moved it slowly, while the fingertips of her left hand ran through his hair, about two inches long and rough to the touch. Back in Tongjia Village, a blind fortune teller had told Tong Yi that he had hard hair, was energetic, strong, and had a strong temper and was prone to impulsiveness. This statement won praise from the neighbors, saying it was very accurate. However, Mo Daoyan, who had the same hair texture, only realized the first half of the statement. He was never impulsive, and to say he was strong was not entirely true. She couldn't find the right word to describe him. Perhaps it was that there was a sharp edge hidden in his gentleness. Even though he was calm and self-possessed, there was a burning fire undercurrent.
"Whether it's two years or three years, I'll wait for you. You develop your career abroad, and I'll continue working in Xicheng. I can also take care of your parents and help you keep the house, just like before, and we can write to each other."
She turned off the hair dryer, unplugged the cord, coiled the wires and put them in the drawer, then put her arms around his neck from behind, rested her chin lightly on his shoulder, and stroked the corners of his slightly pursed lips with her fingers. The corners of Mo Daoyan's mouth drooped slightly, with a somewhat cold arc. Those physiognomy books said that people with such lips were tough and would rather break than bend. From this point of view, physiognomy was more credible than street fortune tellers. After all, those who could write books had done research.
"What date is the flight booked?" Her fingertips lingered on his lips. "It can't be earlier than Daoxing's departure, right?"
He held her restless hand: "Are you in such a hurry to send me away?"
"If you can stay, I'd be so happy." She intertwined her fingers with his, "I'm just thinking about what to prepare for you before you leave."
"I have everything I need."
"Then when you're feeling down, write to me and I'll mail it to you." Ever since she'd suggested "Science-Exercise," it had become a tacit understanding between the two of them. He'd visit her room three or four times a week, as early as after eight in the evening and no later than eleven, as long as it was convenient for both of them. Only when he was incredibly busy would he be unable to make time for the entire week, and then "make up" for it for a few days afterwards. It was already past the agreed time, but she figured there was no need to stick to the rules, so she leaned over and gently kissed him on the lips. "No matter where you are, I'll miss you, and you'll miss me, right?"
"Do you like solving problems this way?"
Mo Daoyan understood her intention and immediately put his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap, spreading her knees so she could sit astride him. He clasped his hands around the back of her neck and kissed her deeply. The kiss was strong and eager, as if he wanted to swallow her up. The scab had just fallen off where he had bitten her lips the last time, and now the new skin was hurt again. She wanted to push him away in pain, but it made him kiss her even harder, as if he had been suppressing himself for too long and his kiss was without any rules, not caring if his teeth knocked against her soft lips.
It wasn't until he lifted her up and rolled into the bed together that she was able to catch her breath. She kept whispering, "Be gentle..."
It's strange to say, the big mahogany bed in his master bedroom is classical, beautiful, large and sturdy, but she has never touched it, not even sat on it. On the contrary, the cheap wooden bed in her room is made of ordinary material. It was originally designed for lying on the bed to put some study materials on, so she didn't choose a one-meter-wide single bed. As a result, the materials were not put on the bed many times, but it became a gentle place for him to linger. There were several times when Mo Daoyan folded her over and over, from the head of the bed to the foot of the bed. She felt that the bed frame was about to collapse, but every time the clouds cleared and the rain stopped, it was always as intact as new.
Lately, Mo Daoyan always left a light on. She complained the ceiling light was too bright, so he replaced it with a desk lamp. When she found it glaring, he deliberately found a low-wattage yellow light and lowered the shade down to the floor. He was so obsessed with leaving a single light on, it was unclear what he was trying to see, as he'd already seen everything he needed to see. One time, she accidentally opened her eyes and met his gaze, as if examining a specimen under a microscope. She hastily turned her head away, only to catch a glimpse of their intertwined figures in the dressing mirror, the details so clear that it embarrassed her.
Afterwards, she quietly turned the mirror around.
Tonight was the first time she stayed in his room, and the lamp on his bedside table was on.
Even with her eyes closed, she could still feel that gaze and couldn't help but ask, "Is there something wrong?"
On the contrary, in the eyes of others, she is always gentle as water, but only he knows what sharp edges are hidden under the gentle appearance. When her rationality is crushed, the real her will break out. She will call his name in a crying voice, her voice is incoherent but with a hint of suspected love. Sometimes she will take the initiative to kiss and hug him tightly, and sometimes she will try to push him away, attacking and defending with him in different positions, slender but fierce... and when the day breaks, she will turn back into the beloved Mrs. Mo, and all the passion, obscurity and anger will disappear without a trace.
Have these fleeting moments of reality ever been occupied by other people?
He didn't answer her, but just "considerately" turned off the light.
The thick black curtains completely blocked out the moonlight, and darkness engulfed her like a tide. She reached out to open the curtains to find a ray of light, but her wrist was gripped by a clamp-like hand. His strength was astonishingly great; she heard a crack in her wrist bones and her back ached. The bed was so hard that it hurt. Mo Daoyan preferred hard beds and only put a thin mattress on it.
She could endure anything in the past, but now she felt like she was about to be crushed, and the pain was so severe that she felt dizzy.
"Turn on the light."
“Turn on the light!”
"Mo Daoyan!"
The only answer she got was endless silence, but she soon understood why he turned off the lights. He exuded a dangerous aura, and the night obscured his expression, hiding the brutality he was unwilling to admit: "You gave up first." He threw a bunch of incoherent words at her, ripped off her nightgown, turned sideways and held her in his arms, forcing his way in without giving her any time to adapt. One hand clamped her neck, forcing her to turn her face to accept his kiss, and the other hand tightly clamped her chest, trapping her arms as well.
Pain and shame instantly washed over her body. She wanted to bite him, but her cheek was pinched, so she had to bite herself. It wasn't until the smell of blood spread between their lips and teeth that he loosened his grip. She raised her head high again, desperately slamming the back of her head against the bed, once, twice...
He hurriedly reached out to protect her head: "Tong Yufei!"
The voice held a warning, even more resentment. Just as he leaned over, she bent her knees and thrust with all her might. He immediately groaned and rolled off her. She then swung her arm, lashing out at him with all her might. "Pah!" The crisp, decisive sound of a slap pierced the thick ink. Mo Daoyan could vaguely feel several scratches on his right cheek from his fingernails, a searing pain. He pressed his tongue against his numb cheek, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
This woman, who usually smiled like a mascot, had such great strength that she almost blew half of his body off the bed.
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