Chapter 14 The Dawn/Twilight Line: A minor argument every two days, a major argument every three days...
The flight from Houston Airport to the Li River takes more than ten hours.
Lan Jia didn't want to struggle with jet lag after getting off the plane, so she decided to tough it out and go home to sleep, which would give her the perfect opportunity to watch all the movies she had been saving up.
She and Meng Cenjun were each busy with their own things, and at first they didn't interfere with each other, so they got along peacefully.
But he couldn't resist the urge to meddle, and after a while, the movie started to get boring. Lan Jia looked at the person working diligently across from him and couldn't help but tease him.
"Brother, don't your eyes get tired from looking at the computer screen for so long?" Lan Jia asked, resting her chin on her hands and staring at him.
Meng Cenjun ignored her.
Driven by her competitive spirit, she relentlessly pressed, "Brother, what's your prescription? Are these new? I've never seen you wear this style before."
Meng Cenjun didn't even lift her eyelids.
Lan Jia gritted her teeth, enduring the pain. Her thin eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes were filled with worry: "Brother, is your wound any better? Does it still hurt?"
Meng Cenjun then condescended to glance at her, realizing she wasn't sincere, and closed the laptop, getting up and leaving.
Lan Jia scoffed, finding it uninteresting.
After flying for six hours, Meng Cenjun decided to rest.
While he was washing up, Lan Jia picked up a pair of gold-rimmed glasses he had left on the table and fiddled with them. What an old-fashioned style! On others, they would look like refined scoundrels, dashing and debonair, but on him, they made him look like a rigid scholar, an unattainable beauty.
What's so great about that? If you're always frowning and looking cold, with a tense face, you'll have more wrinkles than others when you get old.
Lan Jia peeked again, and seeing that he hadn't come out, she stealthily picked up the glasses to try them on. But they slipped off as soon as she put them on. Undeterred, she tried to push them up with one finger, over and over again, looking like a child trying on adult clothes—a comical and incongruous sight. She then realized that Meng Cenjun's glasses didn't have nose pads; they were held up entirely by the bridge of his nose.
Touching her not-so-prominent nose, Lan Jia chuckled and set the antique prop aside without interest.
The sofa bed was lowered, and Meng Cenjun was about to fall asleep. With no one to talk to, Lan Jia succumbed to a long period of boredom.
After about ten hours, we flew across the terminator. In the distance, a pink glow rose on the horizon, gently illuminating the sky. Lan Jia, with a candy in her mouth, thought to herself, "The sun is like a sweet orange candy."
She sat at the table for a while, then subconsciously thought of Meng Cenjun. Excitedly, she moved to his bedside, wanting to wake him up to watch the sunrise.
"Brother." She gently nudged him.
There was no movement.
He was wearing a dark blue eye patch, revealing the lower half of his porcelain-like face. His lips were pale pink, and the wound from his previous bite had scabbed over, leaving a striking reddish-brown mark.
As if possessed, Lan Jia reached out her index finger and touched his lips, thinking, "He's over thirty, this shouldn't be his first kiss, right?" Little did she know that he had dated several girlfriends when he was studying abroad, and he never talked to her about his love life.
Thinking about it that way, it seems like she's the one who's at a disadvantage.
That's a huge loss.
Lan Jia was furious and decided not to call him.
After a nearly 15-hour flight, we are about to land at the airport in Lijiang. Due to the time difference, it is now early morning.
Lan Jia had been pushing herself to the limit, going almost 30 hours without sleep, and was now so sleepy she was seeing stars.
The night breeze was slightly cool, but it couldn't dispel her weariness. Lan Jia dragged her weak body down the stairs and almost missed a step.
Meng Cenjun quickly grabbed her and sternly scolded her for not watching where she was going.
Lan Jia casually said "Oh," knowing he wouldn't abandon her, and followed him step by step like a little animal that had just learned to walk upright.
The car to take her home was waiting early in the morning. It was driver Uncle Chen who came to pick her up. Lan Jia drowsily opened her eyes and greeted him.
Uncle Chen responded with a smile, but in his heart he thought: Once these two come back, they'll probably have a small argument every two days and a big argument every three days.
Once inside the car, Lan Jia felt completely limp. Fortunately, Uncle Chen drove steadily without any shaking. Lan Jia sat there like a rag doll, closing her eyes and remaining silent.
Although the road was flat, she couldn't resist her restless nature. Half-asleep, her head felt heavy, and she bumped her head against the car window.
The thud startled the other two. Seeing that she still showed no signs of waking up, Meng Cenjun had no choice but to reach out and pull her back.
Lan Jia mumbled something, then flipped over again, finding support on his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against it, and leaning against it without moving.
Fearing she might stagger again, Meng Cenjun moved closer to her, placing one hand on the top of her head and encircling her in his arms.
As the light flickered, Uncle Chen caught a glimpse of the two figures embracing in the rearview mirror and smiled knowingly.
Lan Jia was completely unaware of all this, and fell into a deep sleep, resting her head on Meng Cenjun's body.
When they got home, Meng Cenjun called out softly, "Lan Jia?"
All that could be heard was her soft breathing.
He opened the car door, carefully carried the sleeping man out, and walked into the house.
The housekeeper, Aunt Ming, came out to greet them. She glanced at Lan Jia, who was lying limply in Meng Cenjun's arms, and smiled indulgently: "Asleep?"
Meng Cenjun hummed in agreement and instructed her to eat light meals tomorrow. Lan Jia's wound was still recovering, and she estimated that Lan Jia would not get up until the afternoon. She reminded her not to forget to take her medicine. After taking a few steps forward, she turned back again to remind her not to run around.
Aunt Ming smiled and agreed to them one by one.
He carried her all the way back to the bedroom before he could finally relax. Meng Cenjun took off her shoes and socks and covered her with a blanket.
The familiar room, the familiar smell, the familiar texture—Lan Jia, now on the bed, felt right at home. She easily rolled to the other side of the bed, her limbs tightly wrapped around the large brown bear, and drifted off to sleep.
Meng Cenjun stood there looking at her for a while, thinking back to yesterday morning, realizing that she had mistaken him for a teddy bear.
As night fell, he took Lan Jia's shoes, quietly closed the door, and left.
As he expected, Lan Jia indeed slept until noon the next day.
She sat haphazardly in bed, feeling as if the car in her dream had driven all night, and she didn't know how she got home.
My phone has been flooded with messages. The one at the top is from Qiao Zimu. He sent a message at 8 o'clock and a few more ten minutes ago, asking if she was awake and if she wanted to go to her favorite French restaurant that night.
Lan Jia wanted to stay home for a day, so she declined, but then worried that he might be disappointed, so she said she would ask him out another time.
After washing up and going downstairs, I found the kitchen already running, bubbling and bubbling, with a wonderful aroma filling the air.
The cook was arranging plates on the counter, while Aunt Ming stood in front of the stove, personally overseeing the cooking time of a bowl of nourishing soup.
Lan Jia, feeling playful, reached out from behind and hugged her, saying coquettishly, "The dishes today are so plain, Aunt Ming, are we eating vegetarian food now?"
"It's all because of your injury," she scolded irritably, lifting the lid of the earthenware pot and stirring it. Then she patiently coaxed, "Be good, avoid certain foods for a few days. Once you're fully recovered, you can eat whatever you want." With that, she scooped up a small spoonful of soup, blew on it, and held it to her lips. "Here, have a taste. Be careful, it's hot."
Half-coaxing and half-luring, Lan Jia took a sip with some skepticism, only to be instantly overwhelmed by the strange taste. She immediately complained bitterly, "Aunt Ming, what kind of drug did you give me?"
Seeing her flee as if she were a snake, Aunt Ming shook her head and sighed. Perhaps only Meng Cenjun could cure her picky eating problem.
After lunch, a package arrived outside. Lan Jia excitedly went to pick it up; it was a script from the film crew. Although she was just a junior design assistant, she needed to study the script to better understand the character's personality and the filming schedule. Just as she signed for it, another package arrived. Lan Jia was puzzled, but seeing that the recipient was Meng Cenjun, she signed for that as well.
Holding it in her hand, she examined it. It was very light, just a thin paper bag, but the packaging was quite exquisite. It had the words "PRINCETON University Alumni Association" printed on it, so it was probably another banquet invitation. In the past, Meng Cenjun usually ignored such gatherings, so Lan Jia also tossed the package aside without thinking much of it.
I was planning to study the script carefully, but then I received an invitation from Jingwei to have afternoon tea together.
Lan Jia had no plans to go out, but she could tell from the phone call that Lan Jia wasn't in a good mood, so she invited her to her house, as she happened to have a small gift she had brought back from her trip to give her.
Not long after, Jingwei arrived, wearing a dark green long dress that made her look even slimmer. When Lan Jia saw her, she affectionately took her arm and smiled, praising her beauty. Ruan Jingwei smiled shyly, but seemed somewhat dejected.
Lan Jia guessed that she must have had another argument with her family, so she decided to put it aside for now, took her hand and led her back to the bedroom, telling her to sit down for a while, while she went to the dressing room to look for the pair of earrings she had bought.
Ruan Jingwei was a good friend of Lan Jia's from university. They were classmates, both studying costume design, and both lived in Lijiang. The Chinese community at the school was small, so the two quickly became acquainted and started hanging out together because of their similar interests.
This was her first time visiting Lan Jia's home, and she looked around somewhat nervously.
The bedroom is very large, decorated in a French style with soft colors and a harmonious combination, but it is filled with many items, most of which are art collections with a long history.
Ruan Jingwei noticed the vase on the bedside table. Its clear, pale yellow color was the same Yuhuchun vase she had seen in the news of an auction not long ago, but now someone had casually placed a single orchid in it. Then she looked at the sofa she was sitting on. Its pinkish-nude color and velvet texture were also the same style she had seen at a fine furniture exhibition.
When we first met, I guessed that Lan Jia came from a well-off family and was curious about her background, but she never mentioned it. I tried to find out anything useful through some acquaintances, as if someone had deliberately erased all her information.
When Lan Jia gave her the address, she had a vague feeling that something was wrong. No. 9 Anfeng Road, the pinnacle of real estate, a place where only the wealthy and powerful reside. Now that she was actually there, she felt like she had entered a mysterious and magnificent palace, and everything about it made her uneasy.
She had thought they would have a lot in common, but now she suddenly felt a huge psychological gap, which made her feel less close to Lan Jia.
Lan Jia came out and saw that she looked restrained and strange, so she couldn't help but wonder:
Could it be that Meng Cenjun has secretly interfered with her friendships again?
A note from the author:
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