Gu Feibai scrutinized her, his voice devoid of emotion. "And you? Are you also at my mercy?"
Aheng took a step back, her eyes crinkling into a smile, but there was no real joy in it. Feibai, this joke isn't funny. You know I have flesh and blood, I'm equal and free like you, and there's no reason for me to be at your mercy.
Gu Feibai put his hands in his pockets, lowered his head, and after a long while, laughed. "I want to be like in a soap opera, hug you, give you a breathless kiss, a kiss that makes it okay whether you die or I die, but Wen Heng, you're so boring."
Ah Heng was stunned, then burst into laughter. "Fei Bai, this isn't our way. Only fast-paced lives need a quick, superficial romance that uses kisses to ignite passion."
The glimmer of light in Gu Feibai's eyes vanished in an instant—but there wasn't even any passion between us.
He opened his mouth, made up his mind, and wanted to say something, but Ah Heng smiled and whispered, "Fei Bai, you can say what you want to say later, after midnight on January 10th. Right now, I'm very tired."
As the plane took off in the distance, its roar drowned out all other sounds.
She looked into Gu Feibai's eyes, coughed lightly, a blush rising on her face, a gentle expression of nature, a touch of embarrassment and earnestness.
She said, "I'm really suited to be a wife. Ignoring passion, could you please reconsider?"
Chapter 70
Chapter 70
On January 9th, H City welcomed its first snow of 2003. The snowflakes drifted like cotton, no less beautiful than a spring banquet. Perhaps it had nurtured too many talented men and beautiful women, as the entire ancient city's demeanor became poetic day after day.
When Ah Heng was getting water this morning, she slipped and broke the kettle, soaking her entire trouser leg and steaming hot. She was both amused and exasperated, and had no choice but to throw away the old kettle and buy a new one.
On the way, I ran into our class monitor, Little Fatty, who was munching on a steamed bun. When he saw me, he tugged at my pigtail and asked, "Kid, how's your studying going? Don't make me lose face in front of those brats in classes two, three, four, five, and six again. Poor me, you've ruined my reputation."
Ah Heng = =, Little Fatty, class monitor, can't you believe me just this once? I used to be a really good kid.
Little Fatty's face was red from the cold. He sniffled, stuffed a steamed bun into his mouth, and said, "Come on, I don't believe you. I'm crazy. Okay, don't go anywhere today. Study with me."
Little Fatty is a boy whose face can be squeezed into a bun with a few wrinkles when he smiles. He's kind-hearted, responsible, and well-liked by everyone. However, he's too domineering; he's an absolute dictator in the class, and his word is law.
He said that Ah Heng had to go to study, but our child insisted on going too. If he was even a second late, he would make you look like a traitor who betrayed the party and the country, and wouldn't even give you a reprieve.
Seriously, that's so domineering = =.
So Ah Heng could only sigh, carrying the new kettle, and follow Little Fatty to the study room.
With final exams approaching, the study rooms were packed. I searched half the building, but they were all full. Finally, on the fifth floor, I found one with fewer people. Just as I was about to go in, Little Fatty pointed to two people in the corner of the last row—Hey, isn't that Senior Brother Gu? Um, Du Qing?
Ah Heng glanced at it, nodded, and said yes.
Little Fatty was puzzled; how did they end up together?
Ah Heng laughed, "Life is full of unexpected encounters. You're eating a steamed bun, and I'm buying a teapot, and we still bump into each other."
Little Fatty muttered, "That makes sense."
Suddenly, he changed his mind, closed the door, and spoke righteously. No, he couldn't go into this classroom; Wen Heng couldn't bear to see Gu Feibai.
Ah Heng chuckled to himself.
"Wen Heng can't stand Gu Feibai," is a famous saying attributed to Xiao Pang. It subtly reveals Wen Heng's awkward and helpless state of mind—he feels like he's about to pounce on Gu Feibai at any moment.
Little Fatty patted Ah Heng on the shoulder, "Don't be so clingy with him. When things get boring, he might start having impure thoughts, and you'll regret it. I'm a guy, I know what men think."
Ah Heng said, "Which eye of yours saw me clinging to him?"
Little Fatty patted the snow off his backpack and said, "It's not that it's sticky. How should I put it? It's more like you're dependent on it. When you can't see it, you... you feel anxious, let me tell you."
Ah Heng = =, truly... spot on.
She kept trying to figure out her feelings for Gu Feibai, only to find that liking and loving him seemed too far away. But when she couldn't see him, she would unconsciously recall the feeling of being hungry and clinging to her suitcase on the overpass. Then, the feeling of being adrift and insecure was really... hard to bear.
So, thinking in reverse, a member of a wildlife conservation association in City B, I don't know if he thought the same way, but I can be sure that he doesn't like it, but he still thinks of the delicious taste of pork ribs.
Little Fatty said, "Have you thought about the future? I'm telling you to study hard, it's like I'm harming you. You're always thinking about how to earn an extra dollar or two. If you lose an extra dollar or two, will you starve or something? Is Senior Brother Gu the same? If you don't work hard, forget about keeping up with him, he'll leave you far behind. All for a little money, you're short-sighted and vulgar!"
Ah Heng lowered her head. It was true, she would starve to death. Even losing a single cent would be disastrous.
A deflated belly, and a deflated... self-esteem.
By evening, Little Fatty stretched and let them pass.
Ah Heng hurriedly returned to the dormitory, put down the kettle, changed his clothes, and prepared to go to his workplace.
Du Qing has returned, and the rest of the dormitory are also there.
Everyone's expressions were a bit strange; they looked at her, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back.
Ah Heng was puzzled. What was wrong?
Looking down, I found a mess under the bed; the spot where the large box used to be was now empty.
Ah Heng looked around but couldn't see it. He gestured to indicate the size of the box, "My box, have you seen it?"
The roommate, who is always outspoken, couldn't hold back and blurted out, "Ah Heng, I'm not talking about you, but why didn't you discuss keeping such an unlucky thing in the dorm with everyone?"
Ah Heng lowered her head. She had no home; where could she put herself?
Xiao Si spoke calmly, "Aheng, you did something wrong. Putting aside the box, why didn't you explain the matter between Second Sister and Gu Feibai to everyone? She suffered a lot of injustice. You can't take advantage of everyone's affection for you and disregard sisterly bonds."
Ah Heng looked at Du Qing, reached out her hand, her face pale. "Where's the box? Where's my box?"
Du Qing lowered her head. "Aheng, I've thought it through. Feibai, I won't argue with you anymore. Gu Feibai said I'm stronger than you, that I can be happy without him, but you're different. You've always carried a deep wound in your heart, witnessing Dad's heart attack, from struggle to death..."
Who wants to listen to what you're saying? I know better than you do.
Ah Heng looked at her, his blood turned cold, and every breath he took was painful, as if a knife was slowly cutting him apart, each stroke a form of slow torture.
He roared out loud.
Where is my suitcase?
Where's the box?
I looked around the dormitory blankly. The desk, umbrella, kettle, mirror, slippers—everything was there.
But what about the box?
Where is Dad...?
Xiao Wu couldn't bear it, so he closed his eyes and pointed in the direction of the bathroom.
Ah Heng walked over, step by step, to the cold handle and the cramped, unbearable space.
Her large suitcase lay scattered on the ground.
A train ticket, the ticket that brought her here.
She was dressed in mourning clothes, the clothes she wore when mourning someone else's father.
A wooden sign.
The position of the benevolent father, Wen Anguo.
Often, when he couldn't bear it anymore, he would hide here and cry in his father's arms.
Dad, I also want to be a good child that everyone likes. But how hard do I have to work?
The floor was so cold, yet they put you on the ground.
She turned around and slapped Du Qing hard across the face.
She said, "I will never forgive you, never."
She once said, "Dad, it feels like I have five older sisters. They are so good to me."
Suddenly, looking at them, I realized that there was no longer any pain in my eyes.
The big box that came with us, and the box that left us, was the same one after all.
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On the evening of January 9th, Yan hope had a program, an entertainment program that analyzed a person from all angles and in a multi-layered way. They would bring up things like how old you were when you wet the bed and how old you were when you learned to wipe your bottom after using the toilet, all to satisfy the audience's perverse tastes.
Yan hope cursed, "Who came up with this terrible idea?"
The director was helpless. Your fans said that if they didn't let you appear on this show, they would hack all ten websites of the station.
Yan hope was powerless; those little girls just loved him too much.
Director TOT, you don't have to criticize us just because you love us.
Yan hope reached out his hand: "Where's the script?"
The director said seriously, "Our show never has a script. The host just needs to keep track of the show's progress and pace; you can improvise as you like. Oh, and by the way, we'll be inviting two guest hosts."
Yan hope raised an eyebrow. Who?
The director's being all mysterious, you'll find out when the show airs. Our show's motto is to create unexpected effects. Oh, and DJ Yan, I remember you can play the piano, right? There'll be a talent segment.
Yan hope said that the recording would probably go on until a few hours.
The director muttered to himself, "The live broadcast will probably continue until the early hours of the 10th."
Yan hope is having a spasm. I want to know, how high can your show's ratings be? Everyone's asleep in the middle of the night, who's going to watch it?
The director said it would probably be in the same ratings bracket as your "sometimes".
Yan hope = =, there are really a lot of idle people who don't sleep at night.
Then, after thinking for a moment, I said, "I'll go prepare the piano first. It's 10 p.m. tonight, right? I'll be there on time."
Then, he nodded politely, said goodbye, and left, finally growing from an arrogant young boy into a little gentleman.
Last night, he often said things like "childish" while thinking that violence is not a crime. Now, he has finally learned to calmly control his emotions and say "please give me your guidance."
Time is a terrible thing.
That evening, during a TV program, the host asked Yan Xi to answer all his questions without reservation. Yan hope laughed and said, "When I was three years old, I secretly hid lollipops under my pillow. My grandpa scared me by saying that if I ate the candy, worms would grow in my mouth and they would be hammering my teeth all day long. Back then, I was young and ignorant, so I answered everything I knew, and as a result, my grandpa beat me up. This has directly caused me to have a phobia of those eight words now = =."
The host chuckled, "DJ Yan is really funny."
Knowing that he wasn't as easy to handle as the other guests, I toned it down a bit and asked him some questions from online surveys, such as his favorite color, animal, food, unforgettable experiences, and so on. Yan hope answered them one by one, going on and on like Marx.
The director got anxious and winked at the host. The host then changed the subject and asked Yan hope, "Recently, there have been a lot of rumors about you and anchor Chu Yunchu. Is it true?"
Yan hope smiled but didn't speak.
The host was curious; could it be true?
Yan hope said, "If I say whether it's true or false, the show will lose its effect. It's better not to say anything; you'll be more curious then."