Chapter 31

It was a weekend afternoon, the sky had just cleared up, and the ground was still damp. Village Chief Huang Yang was riding his little tricycle to deliver vegetables when he saw a stranger standing motionless at the school gate from a distance.

Huang Yang squinted his eyes.

Definitely an outsider, too out of place.

He immediately hit the brakes, the engine’s puttering sound came to a halt, and at that moment, the man turned his head, making eye contact with him.

For some inexplicable reason, Huang Yang’s heart skipped a beat.

Before he could react, he saw a piece of chalk flying through the air in a parabolic arc, hitting the man’s head with perfect accuracy.

Huang Yang was stunned.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Teacher Ruan, holding a handful of chalk pieces, was chasing the man, aiming for his forehead—these pieces of chalk were the last bits, no bigger than fingernails, but he threw them with great ferocity and precision.

Impressive, not a single piece wasted.

Village Chief Huang Yang watched for a moment, then tentatively called out, “Teacher Ruan?”

Ruan Zhen didn’t stop his actions, “Chief, don’t worry, I’ll sweep the ground later!”

Huang Yang: “…”

He wasn’t reminding him to clean up the scene!

After the last piece of chalk was thrown, Ruan Zhen finally heaved a sigh of relief, patted his hands, and turned to grab the broom, pushing aside the man who tried to help, “Stay out of the way.”

The man didn’t move.

Huang Yang got off his tricycle, glanced around, and felt that the man was even taller than himself. Despite his neat suit and refined demeanor, Huang Yang couldn’t help but tense his muscles, adopting a defensive stance. Although the dam area was picturesque and had a pleasant climate, the poor transportation meant few outsiders visited. Most of them were either volunteer teachers like Ruan Zhen or aid workers. Rarely, if ever, had Huang Yang seen or interacted with a man like this one.

He had a low posture, yet there was an inherent air of authority.

The wind, like the distant breath of the mountains, was gentle and cool, carrying the chill of autumn.

Ruan Zhen swept the ground briskly, then filled a basin with water and casually splashed it out, as if saying, “You can leave now.” The man, however, hadn’t looked at Huang Yang since their initial eye contact.

“Swoosh—”

He stood quietly beside Ruan Zhen, his full attention on him, his gaze slightly hidden.

Huang Yang cleared his throat and spoke, “Teacher Ruan, who is this?”

“Nothing to worry about,” Ruan Zhen smiled, “he’s just passing by.”

Huang Yang looked at their expressions and understood, “Oh, so he’s your…”

He guessed they were friends, maybe having a playful argument.

Without hesitation, Ruan Zhen replied, “Brother-in-law.”

Huang Yang was struck dumb, as if hit by lightning, while the silent man finally looked up, his face showing a new expression.

Deeply aggrieved.

—

The red embers flickered, occasionally making a “crackling” sound.

In the pot, the pork ribs were simmering, already cooked, bubbling gently, rising and disappearing.

The village had a celebration yesterday; a young woman got engaged, and her family had slaughtered a pig, sending some to Zhang Laotou, saying everyone should try it. It was a pig they had raised themselves, free-range, with very fragrant meat.

No other ingredients were added, just corn and carrots. Ruan Zhen’s nose was sensitive, and he had already caught a whiff of the sweet aroma—

The yellow dog was almost drooling, its teeth mostly gone, but it didn’t matter. For the dog, the ribs were cooked until they were soft and tender, the meat falling off the bones with a gentle nudge, melting in the mouth.

“It’s been on the stove the whole time,” Zhang Laotou said proudly, holding a bowl, “mountain pork is tough, but the dog can’t eat that, so today, you’re in luck, kid.”

Ruan Zhen nodded, “I should thank the yellow dog.”

Zhang Laotou poked the embers with a fire tong, “Alright, it’s ready… What are you thinking about?”

He felt the boy was a bit distracted.

Ruan Zhen ladled a bowl and handed it over, “Nothing, just hungry.”

“Then eat more, there’s plenty today!”

“Sure!”

Ruan Zhen took a sip of the warm soup but couldn’t help but glance outside—

He didn’t know if Song Shuling had left.

The man seemed to have just passed by, looking at him once without asking anything, not pestering him, and even enduring the chalk pieces without a word, as if seeing his current state was enough to satisfy him.

In late autumn, the dam area was very cold at night. The mountains, towering and majestic during the day, turned into monstrous beasts in the darkness, their jagged rocks and screeching birds creating an eerie atmosphere, with mysterious rumbles like the coughs of an old man.

Ruan Zhen lowered his head, scolding himself for overthinking.

Who was Song Shuling? If he could come, he could leave. What was he worrying about, thinking the man had walked into the mountains on foot?

The embers died down.

But a few sparks still flickered.

Zhang Laotou had buried some small sweet potatoes under the embers, long and slender, ready to eat after a bit more roasting.

Ruan Zhen hesitated and put down his bowl, “Grandpa, I… I’m going out for a bit.”

Zhang Laotou and the yellow dog looked at him.

Both seemed to smile slightly.

“Go ahead,” Zhang Laotou’s eyes were a bit cloudy, but the mischievous glint was still there, “You’re growing up, and you have your own thoughts.”

The yellow dog also grinned, barking softly.

Pushing open the wooden door of the dormitory, he was greeted by the quiet playground. On his left were two basketball hoops, and on his right, four simple ping-pong tables, all bathed in moonlight.

Ruan Zhen rubbed his hands, it was really cold.

He didn’t know why he had come out or where to find Song Shuling—surely not still waiting at the school gate, right? Did he want to get hit with more chalk pieces?

The wind rustled the autumn trees, casting swaying shadows in the night.

Ruan Zhen walked out of the school.

This small school required passing through the playground, the teaching building, and the flag-raising area. There was no security, just an empty guardhouse with two iron gates locked with a large copper lock. Ruan Zhen grabbed the fence and tiptoed up.

He had learned this from the kids.

Tiptoeing and stepping on the bottom bar of the iron gate, he could swing like on a swing—

But the gate was locked, and it didn’t budge.

Ruan Zhen’s heart, however, was pounding like he was on a swing.

He saw Song Shuling.

Still standing outside, his back to him, not turning around, looking up at the moon.

Ruan Zhen held his breath, counting several seconds before speaking, “Hey…”

He couldn’t say anything else.

In slow motion, like in a movie, Song Shuling paused, slowly turning around. Perhaps standing in the moonlight for too long, he was enveloped in a thin layer of cold.

“Ruan Zhen,”

He spoke softly, “Why are you here?”

Ruan Zhen didn’t answer directly, swallowing, “Why didn’t you leave?”

The night was too quiet, even the howls of wild animals had disappeared.

Song Shuling, a bit embarrassed, said, “My car broke down.”

Ruan Zhen covered his mouth, his eyes crinkling.

He knew he would be laughed at.

Song Shuling was always hands-on, doing everything himself.

This time, he had driven himself, without a driver or bodyguards, traveling hundreds of kilometers. The rain made the roads slippery, and he wasn’t familiar with the area, so his car broke down at the foot of the mountain.

He had no choice but to wait in the car for the rain to stop.

All the while, thinking about Ruan Zhen.

“I walked here,” Song Shuling continued, “the car is at the foot of the mountain, quite a distance away.”

Ruan Zhen’s eyes widened, “Then… why didn’t you tell me, just standing outside waiting?”

Song Shuling spoke slowly, “I thought you would come out when it’s light tomorrow.”

Ruan Zhen was furious, thinking this man was really crazy, still waiting around for romance at such a time, acting so formally.

“Thinking I’d come out when it’s light, did you even think about whether there might be wolves to eat you?”

Song Shuling pondered, “I did.”

Ruan Zhen was about to scold him, but the next second, he realized Song Shuling’s slow speech might be due to standing in the cold for too long, his body stiff.

He couldn’t say anything.

Song Shuling, however, continued, “I also thought about whether you might ask me to leave, or if you might leave in anger… whether there really are wolves in the mountains, whether wild animals might appear.”

Ruan Zhen lowered his lashes, “What else were you thinking, just say it all at once.”

Song Shuling looked at him, “I was thinking about you.”

So he had driven so far, covered in dust and fatigue, just to see him.

Song Shuling smiled.

“Sorry… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”