He remained calm and composed, his gaze not shifting an inch, as if Ah Heng did not exist.
Ah Heng smiled gently, looking at the boy's back.
The boy was dressed in a neat and clean cotton T-shirt, with soft black hair, a single strand of hair sticking up at the tip, swaying gently with the slight ripples in the air, sensitive and childlike.
He tried to treat her like air, to see the subtle undercurrents between them as a form of conquest, and to arrogantly and ostentatiously declare victory.
Ah Heng knows all of this.
This is Yan hope's way of interacting with people.
He raised his thorns, threatening her, preparing to subdue her without a fight.
She thought that Yan hope didn't see her as a woman who needed a gentleman's demeanor at this moment, but rather as an enemy who had invaded his territory for a ridiculous reason, regardless of gender, and who only needed to be expelled.
However, this treatment made her feel real.
This moment reveals Yan hope's true self—not gentle, not ingratiating, not mischievous, not deliberate, not perfunctory, not arrogant, not indifferent, not cold-hearted—those are merely incomplete versions of Yan Xi made in specific situations and for specific people.
However, the more one glimpses one sees, the more fragmented it appears.
She was fortunate enough to see Yan hope in his entirety at that hour.
Ah Heng raised his hand, glanced at his watch, and saw it was 7:30.
I buried myself in my work and continued solving problems, but the number of times the little figure on the screen died gradually increased.
After a long while, a loud bang was heard.
Aheng looked up and saw Yan hope staring coldly at her. In the corner was a black handle that had been smashed and cracked.
"How long are you planning to stay?" he asked her, his dark eyes as smooth and unfathomable as a mirror.
"You remembered?" Aheng smiled, reaching out to hand over her Chinese, math, and English workbooks.
The boy's eyes slanted upwards, and he walked with an arrogant air, adopting a certain tone.
His eyes, filled with anger, glared at her fiercely for a long time.
Ah Heng's eyes looked at him gently, as clear and bright as a mountain stream.
She smiled softly.
"Yanxi, is doing homework really that hard?"
The boy was stunned, his icy expression softening. After a long pause, he gave a forced smile—"Wen Heng, is it worth it for you to do something so trivial?"
You're the one who gets angry, you're the one who throws tantrums, and you're the one who breaks things.
Ah Heng sighed, feeling wronged.
"I understand, I'll write it. You can go now." Yan hope lowered her head, leaned against the bed, and spoke softly.
oh.
Ah Heng nodded, stood up, and felt a little numb in her knees.
She closed the door and went downstairs. Lieutenant Li was sitting in a rocking chair on the balcony, listening to the radio, and had fallen asleep. His soft snoring was very clear in the quiet and empty living room.
The room was silent in the shadow of the setting sun. The only sound was the ticking of the wall clock.
The Wen family, though not large in number, is much warmer than this place.
As Ah Heng thought this, she looked up and saw the photos hanging on the wall again. Frame by frame, the vibrant colors, captured in a fleeting moment, were incredibly warm.
However, the beauty remained, tinged with a chill in the silent air; a touch of warmth was mixed with a touch of loneliness.
In an instant, Ah Heng's heart felt as if it had been scratched by a cat's claws, and began to ache with each heartbeat.
She recalled the stories Yan hope had told her when he was sick.
Such a weak voice, so mocking and sorrowful.
She remembered Yan hope's smile as he handed her the cake.
He said to her, "Wen Heng, Yun's mother asked me to buy this for you. Wen Heng, she asked me to say to you, 'Happy Birthday.'"
The tone was one of envy bordering on jealousy.
He feared others would shatter the solitude he possessed, because solitude was a very powerful armor.
Only when he carries powerful armor can Yan hope be truly powerful.
She had never imagined that she could see the boy to such an extent. Yet this sudden flash of insight was truly beyond her usual dullness and taciturn nature.
In the past, when I looked at Yan hope, even when he was blurry, I felt a vague sense of curiosity and beauty.
Now it's clear, but it evokes fear and pity.
She was afraid, and this pity would slowly become clearer with time, seeping into her very bones.
But after gazing at those photos for a long, long time, I finally stopped in my tracks.
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Yan hope saw A Heng again only half an hour later, when A Heng finished his English homework using artistic strokes.
"You didn't leave?" He was stunned, his slender fingers slowly twirling the pen.
"Are you hungry?" Ah Heng asked, seemingly out of the blue.
In her hands, she held a steaming bowl of noodles, its aroma filling the air.
"Pork rib noodles?" The boy took a breath and leaned forward slightly.
"There were spare ribs and noodles in the kitchen, and coincidentally, both were available." So, I made it.
Ah Heng explained somewhat awkwardly.
So, do you want to eat?
Yan hope looked wary and suspicious, his large eyes clear yet guarded—"Ah, I know, you must have poisoned me!"
"Hmm, it's poisoned. If you won't eat, I'll feed you braised pork rice." Ah Heng smiled, walked to the window, where the little parrot was lazily basking in the moonlight. When it saw her, it flapped its wings and circled the bowl, its little eyes sparkling, calling out as it went—"Braised pork! Braised pork!"
Yan hope laughed – “Why are you so petty? All I did was chase you away.”
Then, I flicked the little bird's head. The little thing was going too fast, and due to inertia, it crashed into the window with a thud.
He snatched the bowl from her hand, his hand slightly pressed against his lips, his dark, bright eyes revealing a more innocent and intense smile.
The boy casually parted the English musical staff, then buried his dark head in the delicate porcelain bowl.
He ate with relish, and Ah Heng was reminded of the cute little piglet wearing a hair clip on the lunchbox of his childhood.
laugh.
While Yan hope was eating, A Heng picked up the game controller from the corner, sat cross-legged on the floor, took a screwdriver, and focused on his work, hammering and tinkering.
"What are you doing?" Yan hope slurped.
"Oh, this, let me fix it." Ah Heng didn't look up, gently turning the screwdriver.
"Can you do it?" (Continues slurping.)
"Give it a try," Ah Heng chuckled.
"If I break it, will you pay for it?" the boy asked matter-of-factly.
"It's already broken," Ah Heng said with a smile, reminding him.
"If it weren't for you, would I have fallen? This controller is something I went through a lot of trouble to snatch back from my aunt's house," the young man declared eloquently.
"It's fixed." Ah Heng smiled, pursed his thin lips, tightened the screws, and gently handed the handle to the boy.
Yan hope took it, shook it, and there was no loose noise, so he knew it was fixed.
Remembering something, he solemnly put the controller to his ear, listening intently.
"Listen, what is that?" Ah Heng asked curiously.
Yan hope smiled, narrowing his bright black eyes, and sighed for a long time, with the old man's longing for the infinite beauty of the sunset - "A long, long, long time ago, really a long time ago, legend has it that there is a great god living in every game controller. If players chat with him every day, he will lead us to victory in the game."
Ah Heng stared blankly—"Gods, really exist?"
Suddenly, a cool game controller gently touched her forehead. Ah Heng looked up and saw a smile, cool and gentle.
"Yes, yes, he complained to me that you were very rough just now, and he hates you."
Ah Heng sniffed, grabbed the handle that was stuck to her forehead, and said aggrievedly, "No, I wasn't rude."
"Yes, you have!" Yan hope glanced sideways. "The master said that you not only hit him, but you also pinched him. He will retaliate against you."
"What will he do? Seek revenge?" I asked guiltily.
"Oh, so he just sends a little devil to appear by your bedside in the middle of the night to tell you a ghost story, like a rural old corpse, a malevolent spirit, a curse, a painted skin, a man-eating vampire, a fight, a fusion of Chinese and foreign elements, spanning ancient and modern times, and so on..." He gestured wildly, spitting as he spoke.
Ah Heng was skeptical and whispered, "Is that great god Chinese, or...foreign?"
Yan hope, who had been rubbing his chin with his index finger, burst into laughter upon hearing A Heng's words, punching the pillow. "I thought you were just pretending to be stupid all the time, but it seems I overestimated you."
He's clearly just a kid pretending to be smart but actually being naive.
Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Another transfer student joined the class—an overseas Chinese who had returned from America.
Ah Heng stared at the tall girl on the podium, almost mesmerized.
She had never seen such a beautiful girl.
She couldn't describe the girl's appearance; however, looking at her, she inexplicably thought of a magnet. Looking at everyone's eyes, Ah Heng knew that they, like her, had become tiny nails, stuck to this stone.
However, compared to seeing Yan hope, she felt that something was missing.
"I'm Chen Juan, I just got back from the United States. You can call me Rosemary." The girl smiled, her eyebrows and eyes resembling roses, charming yet subtly noble.
Beautiful shredded meat...
Ah Heng broke out in a light sweat and subconsciously turned her eyes away.
As expected... the two boys behind him had hearts in their eyes.