42: Notes from a Paranoid Educated Youth 11

Zhou Linchuan stood outside the Women's Director's courtyard, holding the newly bought clothes.

He was a little nervous, a little anxious.

This was the first time he had bought clothes for a girl.

She should like them, right?

At least… she wouldn’t have to wear that torn old dress anymore.

His gaze peered through the window and saw Wen Ci's slender fingers deftly threading a needle, and also saw Lin Hongying, flustered by the 'enthusiastic guidance' of the girls, finally clumsily knocking over the thread basket.

Colorful spools of thread rolled all over the floor.

Wen Ci squatted down to pick them up, revealing a small patch of fair skin on her lower back.

Zhou Linchuan spun around abruptly, his shoulder wound hitting the tree trunk.

It hurt.

But it was worth it.

He had originally intended to pick Wen Ci up and take her home when she came out, but then he faintly overheard Sister Xinghua and the others talking about clearing out a separate room for Wen Ci to live in.

"Sister Wen Ci, just wait a little longer, it'll be ready soon."

Zhou Linchuan's breathing hitched.

"Really?" Wen Ci feigned a look of pleasant surprise, after all, it was their kind intention.

"Aunt Chen specifically approved it!" Xiao Hong smiled happily, "She said you deserve credit for teaching everyone how to use the sewing machine, and you won't have to squeeze into the same courtyard with those stinky men anymore!"

Stinky men?

Hearing that term, Wen Ci couldn't help but chuckle.

Actually, Zhou Linchuan wasn't stinky at all; he even smelled quite good.

The girls' boisterous and unrestrained laughter pierced Zhou Linchuan's eardrums like needles.

She was moving out.

She was really moving out.

He looked down at the bundle in his hand; the fabric suddenly felt hot.

Zhou Linchuan moved back a bit, disappearing into the shadows.

When Wen Ci walked out of the Women's Director's house, surrounded by the girls, the setting sun cast her shadow long.

Xiao Hong was being picked up by her boyfriend, Zhang Yang, who was grinning foolishly as he brushed the loose threads off her shoulder, drawing a chorus of teasing from everyone.

"Oh my! Brother Zhang Yang really dotes on his wife!"

"Little Sister Xiao Hong, when are you going to treat us to wedding candies?"

"Stop teasing me!"

Wen Ci also smiled, her eyes curving into crescents, and she couldn't help but glance around.

Everyone seemed to have someone picking them up.

She also wanted someone to pick her up.

It was obvious who she was waiting for as she looked left and right.

When Zhou Linchuan saw this scene, his chest felt like a stone was pressing on it, a dull ache.

How could she really be waiting for him?

Her kindness to him was only because she was helpless and needed protection.

She was also very eager to leave.

He fiercely crushed the dry branch under his foot, then turned and disappeared into the deeper shadows.

"Sister Wen Ci, we're leaving too, you should head home soon." Sister Xinghua and the others waved at her and then went home.

Wen Ci smiled and nodded at them, "Okay."

A loud voice calling out from a distance, "Sister Xinghua! Mom steamed sticky bean buns, come home and eat them while they're hot!"

"Okay!"

Everyone gradually left.

Wen Ci lowered her head, staring at the hem of her clothes, as if only now noticing that she had torn off several strips of fabric from it earlier.

It was quite tattered.

It definitely didn't look good to wear.

Was Zhou Linchuan not coming to pick her up because he thought it was embarrassing?

Her nose suddenly stung.

Zhou Linchuan watched Wen Ci walking alone on the road, his temples throbbing.

He should go out.

Her clothes were torn; she must be very cold.

The temperature dropped at night, and this place was still some distance from his room.

Even if she was leaving, there was still some time.

He suddenly took half a step forward, then abruptly stopped.

Don't be so self-important.

She smiled at you, spoke softly to you, even allowed you to get close…

It was only because she had no other choice.

She was desperate to distance herself from him.

The wind carried grit into his eyes, and the man raised a hand to rub them roughly.

In the end, it was Aunt Chen who, when she came out, saw Wen Ci walking alone on the road and couldn't help but say, "Comrade Wen, I'm running an errand; I can give you a ride part of the way."

"Thank you, Aunt Chen."

As the ox cart creaked past a certain spot, Wen Ci suddenly looked back; withered yellow grass swayed in the wind, as if someone had just fled in a hurry.

She sighed softly.

When Wen Ci returned home and pushed open the door, the room was pitch black and cold, with a chill washing over her.

Zhou Linchuan hadn't returned yet.

The kang was cold, the stove was cool.

She rubbed her somewhat frozen red hands, lit the kerosene lamp, and the room instantly brightened, then she started huffing and puffing to build a fire to warm the kang.

She busied herself with chores inside and out.

But she was really quite clumsy.

She choked and coughed while clearing the stove ashes; she couldn't light the fire several times, and the well water was so icy it made her knuckles ache when scooping water to wash rice.

But Wen Ci was actually very excited.

She exchanged some food with the system, preparing to show off her cooking skills.

By the time Zhou Linchuan reached the courtyard gate, wisps of cooking smoke were already rising from the chimney, and the dim yellow light of the kerosene lamp shone through the window paper, illuminating the eaves in a warm golden hue.

He stood there stunned for a very long time.

The light was on.

His room, which had always been like an ice cellar, actually had a light on.

In a daze, he recalled that for so many years, he had always returned home to a cold, dark house.

No one was ever home waiting for him.

Home had never been warm for him.

Countless times before, when he pushed open the door, he had fantasized about someone coming to greet him, smiling and saying, 'You're home.'

He had always thought that would only be a fantasy.

His Adam's apple bobbed a few times, and Zhou Linchuan lifted his foot to kick open the courtyard gate, deliberately making a loud noise.

When Wen Ci looked up from the stove, her face still had two streaks of soot.

"You're back?" Her eyes lit up, and she ran towards him, holding a spatula.

At that moment, Zhou Linchuan's heart was deeply stirred.

Wen Ci's smiling face, in his eyes, was practically glowing.

It wasn't a fantasy.

It had really come true.

Someone was really smiling and saying, 'You're home' when he returned.

"Dinner is almost…"

Before Wen Ci could finish her sentence, she tripped over the doorstep.

Zhou Linchuan's heart raced, and he instinctively opened his arms, but then he saw her deftly steady herself by the doorframe, half of the scrambled eggs on the spatula flying off and landing right on his shoelace.

"Ah! My eggs!" She cried, making a long face as she went to pick them up, a strand of hair falling from her bun, swaying with her movements.

Zhou Linchuan suddenly reached out to steady her, his thumb firmly wiping away the soot on her face, "…So clumsy."

His words were harsh, but his tone was incredibly gentle.

Wen Ci blinked, then put her hands on her hips and pouted, "I'm so diligent! You don't praise me, and you even call me clumsy, hmph!"

The porridge pot on the stove suddenly 'poofed,' overflowing with rice soup, and she gasped, turning back to run, her dark, shiny braid sweeping across his palm.

It felt like being burned by a spark.

Zhou Linchuan stared blankly at his palm.