Chapter 35

Song Shuling looked at Ruan Zhen, and Ruan Zhen looked back at Song Shuling.

They remained silent, staring at each other.

After a moment of quiet.

Ruan Zhen’s smile faded, and his face turned expressionless. “Are you stupid?”

Song Shuling slowly responded with an “Oh.”

“People have come, you’ve met them, and you’ve even acted like a thug,” Ruan Zhen continued. “Isn’t it about time you leave?”

He turned and went to the kitchen again, returning with a plastic bag filled with apples, heavy and sagging. “Take these. You might get hungry on the way.”

Song Shuling took the bag.

Ruan Zhen looked at him for a while, then couldn’t help but speak. “I’ve already told the village chief, Huang Yang. He’ll come over after his meal to take you down the mountain. Once you’re in town, you can figure out how to get back.”

Whether the car broke down or for any other reason, once you reach the town, there will always be a way to get back.

Song Shuling nodded.

Ruan Zhen paused. “Button up your shirt.”

After saying that, he turned and sat on the sofa, picking up a workbook from his bag and starting to mark it with a red pen.

Song Shuling, holding the plastic bag, slowly buttoned up his shirt. Ruan Zhen had only undone three buttons earlier, mainly pulling the shirt to expose his shoulders and chest. Now, as he buttoned up, Song Shuling tugged at his shirt and stood there silently.

Ruan Zhen didn’t look up. “Have you remembered everything?”

Song Shuling: “…Yes.”

His eyelashes drooped, standing there like he had done something wrong. Indeed, he had. He had considered Ruan Zhen’s near-encounter with bullying and had warned himself to be careful, gentle, and considerate, not to use brute force. But he had done exactly that, just like his nephews.

Song Shuling felt like dying.

Ruan Zhen idly twirled his pen, occasionally writing a few words in the workbook. Outside, a knock on the door and a stranger’s voice could be heard.

“Mr. Ruan?”

“Here.”

Ruan Zhen stood up from the sofa and quickly opened the door. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes,” Village Chief Huang Yang rubbed his hands. “I’m heading to town to buy some things. Shall we go now?”

Ruan Zhen’s eyes curved into a smile. “Thank you for the trouble.”

Song Shuling followed, hesitating as he passed Ruan Zhen. His voice was soft. “I’m leaving. Please say hello to Grandpa and Yellow Dog for me.”

He added, “I’m sorry.”

Ruan Zhen had already returned to the sofa, sitting down with the red pen in hand.

The afternoon sun was bright, the mountain air fresh and invigorating, with a crisp scent of fallen leaves. It wasn’t unpleasant, and it gave a sense of inexplicable comfort.

But Song Shuling’s eyes were downcast, his throat tight.

Until he left the school, Ruan Zhen never looked up, never glanced at him.

The three-wheeler rumbled along.

Song Shuling sat stiffly in the back, his long legs awkwardly crossed, his hands gripping the railing tightly to prevent himself from being thrown off if the vehicle hit a steep slope.

Village Chief Huang Yang, steering the vehicle, occasionally looked back. “How’s it going? Can you handle it?”

“Fine.”

Song Shuling was silent for a moment before speaking. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Huang Yang said cheerfully. “It’s on my way anyway… By the way, how did you get up here yesterday? It had just rained, but I didn’t see any mud on your shoes.”

How did he get up here?

Song Shuling had climbed up step by step!

There were no mud spots because, before seeing Ruan Zhen, he had carefully wiped off all the dirt with tissues. Song Shuling had never been so disheveled, but fortunately, the roadside was full of weeds, and he had used the rainwater on the leaves to carefully tidy himself up.

He wanted to make a good impression on Ruan Zhen.

But in the end, he had done something terrible that night.

Song Shuling sighed silently.

Memories flooded his mind, competing to surface.

He had pinned the person to the bed.

Kissed him.

And forced him to sleep with him for the night.

“Are you okay?”

Song Shuling was startled to find the three-wheeler had stopped, and an oval straw hat appeared before him.

Huang Yang looked at him with concern. “The sun is strong. You should wear this to protect yourself.”

City people have finer skin, and even the midday sun in autumn can redden their faces.

Song Shuling didn’t refuse, took the hat, and said thank you again.

He pulled the brim down to cover most of his face.

“No problem,” Huang Yang restarted the three-wheeler. “The UV rays here are quite strong. When Mr. Ruan and the others first came, they couldn’t handle it and ended up peeling.”

The fields around them had been freshly plowed, the furrows like paused waves, with grasshoppers occasionally leaping out of the grass and disappearing into the soil.

Song Shuling tentatively asked, “How is Mr. Ruan doing here?”

“Pretty well,” Huang Yang thought for a moment. “At first, we were worried these young people wouldn’t be able to handle the hardship, unlike in your big city. But they adapted well, and the children like him.”

The road became smoother, and the wind rustled through the roadside grass and trees. Song Shuling remained silent, not asking any more questions.

When they reached their destination, he returned the straw hat, and Huang Yang nodded in approval.

“See? Wearing a hat is good. Your face isn’t red anymore!”

He placed the hat in the basket, securing it with something, and prepared to leave.

The man who had been quiet the whole way suddenly spoke.

“Village Chief,”

Huang Yang stood before him, smiling. “May I ask if you’re married?”

Huang Yang answered without hesitation. “Yes, I stayed here for my wife.”

Song Shuling nodded slightly. “I understand. Thank you.”

But Huang Yang didn’t leave.

A scar ran across his nose and cheek, a mark of time that had faded but still carried a hint of terror.

Yet the villagers liked him, and the children weren’t afraid of him.

Because Huang Yang’s eyes were gentle, like an ancient mountain that seemed distant and unapproachable from afar but revealed itself to be a nurturing home when you got close.

He looked at Song Shuling with those eyes. “Don’t worry. Mr. Ruan has something on his mind.”

No need to say more; they understood each other.

Song Shuling smiled softly, warmly.

“It’s fine. I have patience.”

Ruan Zhen’s patience was running thin.

The end of the semester was approaching, and there was still a lot of material to cover. The children were preoccupied with the thought of cured meat, firecrackers, and the joy of running wild in the snow.

Several snowfalls had already occurred.

Power poles and signal towers had been toppled by the heavy snow, disrupting the internet. Ruan Zhen had suggested several times that Zhang Laotou and Yellow Dog should go home. It was too cold here, and logically, such a temperate place as the dam bottom shouldn’t have snow.

But it did.

The electric heater ran 24/7, and Zhang Laotou had lit a stove inside. He and the village doctor were warming huangjiu wine, insisting it was no problem. They planned to go ice fishing when the lake froze.

“This is called a lone fisherman in a straw rain cape, fishing… what was it again?”

The seemingly unreliable barefoot doctor blushed. “In the cold river snow!”

The sparks crackled, and Ruan Zhen, worried about the air circulation, repeatedly reminded them. He patted Yellow Dog’s head, telling him to watch over Grandpa.

Yellow Dog wagged his tail.

Ruan Zhen had also asked Village Chief Huang Yang why it was so cold this year, with such heavy snow—

“I don’t know,” Huang Yang scratched his head. “I’ve been here for over ten years, and I’ve never seen snow, let alone heavy snow, in winter.”

The only ones who seemed happy were the children in the classroom.

They weren’t afraid of the cold. If they got too cold, they would grab a handful of snow, rub it in their palms, and it felt like holding a ball of fire. They all wore ear protectors and homemade scarves around their necks.

The winter break was approaching, and the teachers discussed and decided to go home for the New Year.

Except for Ruan Zhen.

For him, as long as he was with Zhang Laotou and Yellow Dog, it was the New Year wherever they were. The school needed someone to stay on duty during the holiday, so Ruan Zhen volunteered, taking the entire period from the 23rd of the 12th lunar month to the 15th of the first lunar month.

Even Village Chief Huang Yang felt a bit embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” Ruan Zhen smiled. “When Grandpa goes fishing, I’ll stay home and roast oranges. When they come back, we can play cards together.”

Huang Yang nodded. “Alright. If the power goes out, report it immediately. And when you burn coal at night, leave the windows slightly open.”

Zhang Laotou listened attentively and agreed.

As the New Year approached, the continuous snow finally stopped.

The final exams were over, and the teachers had finished grading the papers. They planned to go to town together, take a bus, and buy tickets to go home.

Eight hundred kilometers wasn’t particularly far, but the road was rugged and difficult to navigate.

“Are you sure you want to stay alone?”

Before leaving, Ruan Zhen was checking each classroom with his colleagues, making sure the windows were closed, the lights were off, and nothing was left behind. The children were already excited, packing their things quickly.

But Ruan Zhen found something interesting.

Under a desk drawer was a piece of paper. Ruan Zhen picked it up and opened it, answering, “It’s fine. Just about twenty days… Oh?”

The writing was crooked and uneven.

“I like you the most!”

The letters were large, and the exclamation mark had even torn the paper, expressing the writer’s excitement.

Ruan Zhen smiled and put the note in his pocket.

After the last duty shift, his colleagues left, and the school was empty in the afternoon. Zhang Laotou and Yellow Dog went to the village doctor’s house to play. Ruan Zhen, feeling bored, returned home to take a nap.

Although the snow had stopped, it was still cold.

Ruan Zhen was particularly sensitive to the cold.

The electric heater emitted a warm orange light, making the room cozy. Ruan Zhen lay on the bed, playing with his phone, planning to read some news and then take a comfortable nap.

This secluded dam bottom, in a way, isolated him from many things.

He had to rely on news reports to stay informed.

Like today.

Ruan Zhen looked at the screen for a while and then turned off his phone.

After all, seeing the news about the Song family’s young masters being imprisoned felt like a distant memory.

The news was vague, not detailing the specifics but only mentioning the inevitable exposure of hidden truths.

There were no photos.

Of course, there was no sign of Song Shuling.

Since their last parting, Song Shuling had nearly disappeared from Ruan Zhen’s life.

He occasionally called to remind Ruan Zhen about the weather, telling him to dress warmly if it was cold.

But even these calls, Ruan Zhen didn’t always answer.

He stared at the name on the phone.

That unexpected moment of heart palpitations seemed to be just that—an accident. Both of them tacitly avoided mentioning it, and in a way, Ruan Zhen was relieved. If Song Shuling pursued him under these circumstances, he would be at a loss.

But Song Shuling’s silence after his confession also left him at a loss.

Why?

Ruan Zhen thought of the note, “I like you the most,” written in crooked, sincere letters.

For children, saying “I like you” is easy.

For adults, it’s much harder.

It’s so difficult.

He had once hoped that someone would love him passionately, that they would kiss, exchange rings, and vow eternal loyalty.

But just like the unexpected heavy snow in the dam bottom this year, he couldn’t predict when the person he was waiting for would arrive.

But it didn’t matter.

Ruan Zhen was starting to feel drowsy. The room was warm, and he yawned lazily.

If he liked someone, he wouldn’t wait in vain. He would respond with the same passion, raise the whip, and ride quickly to that person’s side.

He hoped the road ahead wouldn’t be too difficult.