Capítulo 97

After he finished sending the message, he stared intently at Shen Zhifei. In less than ten seconds, Shen Zhifei took out his phone, his long, slender, fair fingers rapidly swiping across the screen, and then Song Lang's phone vibrated.

[It's me. I still have some numbers left, and I don't want to waste them. Let's relive some past romance.]

"Pfft—" Song Lang couldn't help but kick Shen Zhifei's thigh lightly, then continued to lean against the sofa and reply to the unknown number: "What the hell is Element Number Thirty?"

Shen Zhifei turned his head to look over, and Song Lang raised his chin, signaling him to quickly type a reply.

Memorize the periodic table.

"Damn! You're a devil!"

Song Lang reached out to pull Shen Zhifei's hair, but Shen Lingyu threw a walnut at him instead.

"Stop bullying Feifei all the time. Can you act like an older brother? Eat more walnuts to boost your brainpower. You'll be a senior in high school next year, so work harder and don't let Feifei's efforts go to waste."

"Hey beautiful! If you hit me any harder, you'll shove my skull open, okay?"

Song Lang grabbed a walnut kernel, tossed it into the air, tilted his head back, opened his mouth wide, and ate it with pinpoint accuracy.

Shen Lingyu tossed him several more, amused, and said, "Lower your head a bit, or I'll poke a monk's shaved mark on your head."

.

"Ouch, that hurts!" Song Lang used his arm to block his mother's attack, jumping up from the sofa. "Hey beautiful, are you going through early menopause? I'm going back to my room, don't throw me away!"

"You're so cheeky!" Shen Lingyu raised her hand to slap him, just as their upstairs neighbor came to invite the couple to play cards. Song Lang practically pushed and dragged his parents out of the house.

The TV host was still announcing the program in a clear and resonant voice when Song Lang, leaning against his bedroom door, waved to Shen Zhifei, who was sitting on the living room sofa: "Is the Spring Festival Gala that good? Come over here."

Shen Zhifei turned off the TV, got up and walked over to Song Lang, leaned down and rubbed his nose against Song Lang's with a smile, then opened the door to her bedroom and went inside.

Song Lang was captivated by that graceful, light smile, and jokingly called her a "show-off" before following Shen Zhifei inside.

The moment the door narrowed to its narrowest point, they embraced and kissed tightly, entangled as they walked into the room. Song Lang felt a lightness beneath him as Shen Zhifei lifted him onto the desk.

"Recite the periodic table for me." When Shen Zhifei rolled up the hem of his sweater and leaned down to kiss his chest, a startling buzzing sound came from Song Lang's buttocks. Both of them froze for a moment, and the romantic atmosphere instantly dissipated.

"Damn it!" Song Lang quickly explained, "I didn't fart, my phone vibrated."

He took his phone out of his back pocket, his face stiffened, and the hand gripping Shen Zhifei's hair tightened instinctively.

Shen Zhifei straightened up, smoothed his clothes, and asked casually, "What's wrong?"

“Uh,” Song Lang scratched the back of his head, a slight smile on his lips, “it was a text message from Meng Fanxing, wishing me a happy new year.”

"Yes, it's fine."

Shen Zhifei ruffled his hair, pulled out the two chairs in front of the desk, and Song Lang sat down cross-legged on one of the chairs, asking, "What do you think I should say back to him?"

“The point isn’t what you reply,” Shen Zhifei said, propping her head up as she looked at him. The light reflected in his eyes, creating a gentle glow. “As long as you take the initiative, things will gradually get better.”

Song Lang held his phone for a long time, deleting and editing, and finally realized that Shen Zhifei's words made sense.

Replying too much would be effeminate and not his style; replying too little would offend Meng Fanxing and make her lose face.

After thinking it over, he replied: Happy New Year.

Looking at the "Happy New Year" message he received that afternoon, and then at the newly received message with the same four words, Meng Fanxing assumed that Song Lang hadn't received the previous reply, so he sent another "Happy New Year" message.

"What does he mean by that?" Song Lang wondered. "Isn't he going to say anything else besides those four words?"

Adhering to the principle of "I will not move unless the enemy moves", Song Lang added a question mark and sent the New Year's greetings again.

For the next ten minutes, his WeChat chat with his friend far away was filled with a silly and absurd atmosphere.

【??Happy New Year.】

【???Happy New Year.】

【????Happy New Year.】

...

Shen Zhifei sighed softly beside him, "The saying 'birds of a feather flock together' is not without reason."

Chapter 52

“Alright,” Shen Zhifei pressed the button on Song Lang’s phone, “You have certainly expressed your sincere wishes for each other clearly.”

Song Lang didn't think so. As the WeChat messages progressed, he even got a little angry. "The more I read them, the more I felt he was being sarcastic and unfriendly. Was he deliberately trying to annoy me?"

“So stop sending them. If you keep doing this, he’ll feel the same way.” Shen Zhifei put her phone aside, opened the drawer next to her, took out a box and handed it to Song Lang. “This is this year’s gift.”

"Another gift?" Song Lang was both surprised and delighted. He took the heavy box and asked, "What is it?"

"Open it and take a look." Shen Zhifei propped her head up to the side, looking at him with a smile in her eyes.

"Oh dear, I feel so bad that you prepare a gift for me every year. Tomorrow... no, the mall probably won't be open tomorrow. Let's wait until the sixth day of the new year. I'll make it up to you then—"

Song Lang's smile instantly froze, and the rest of his words got stuck in his throat.

Inside the box lay a thick stack of five-year college entrance exam simulation books, all in luxurious hardcover. The cover of the top book was a dazzling red, perfectly matching the festive atmosphere of the Chinese New Year.

"Do you like it, baby?" Shen Zhifei asked with a smile.

"I like it." Song Lang said these two words through gritted teeth.

Shen Zhifei tapped the table and said, "Where's the pen I gave you? I'll write your name on it for you."

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