Psst! We're moving!
Meng Jingshu said, “I’m not that fragile; it’s proper to explain these things.”
He easily understood what she was thinking.
That evening, while they were still on their way, Jiang Ying called home and then quietly sent a message to Mom Jiang, explaining Meng Jingshu’s family situation and asking her to inform the relatives at home.
Jiang Ying turned over and said again, “Isn’t it better that way?”
He didn’t answer, instead asking, “Are you sleepy?”
“Mm... Are you going to hang up?” She sounded a little aggrieved.
He chuckled softly, “If you’re not sleepy, want to come down and meet?”
“??!”
Jiang Ying immediately wrapped her cotton coat over her pajamas and slipped out the door.
It was already almost one in the morning, deep into the quiet night. Her parents were long asleep. Jiang Ying was extremely careful when closing the door.
Inside the elevator, her heart pounded.
How could this be... They had been together all day, yet it still felt insufficient.
Outside the unit door, a tall, slender figure stood alone, carried by the wind.
When did he come over again? How long had he been waiting downstairs?
Jiang Ying pushed open the door, and he had already walked a few steps towards her, embracing her.
She felt like a fish on the shore, returned to water, saved.
All her melancholy found its anchor.
She persisted with the previous question, asking again, “Isn’t it better that way?”
Meng Jingshu completely gathered her into his embrace, saying softly, “It’s good.”
He felt an unprecedented tenderness, his heart warmed to a scorching degree. He couldn’t stay home after returning, only wanting to see her again, to hold her.
Even if they could meet again tomorrow, the fervent longing couldn’t wait.
She hugged his neck tightly, her eyes gradually becoming moist.
How could she bear to let others ask him those questions?
—What do your parents do, and how old are they?
—Deceased? That’s such a pity. When and why?
“I don’t want you to explain these things to anyone else.”
He comforted her, “It’s really fine, it’s okay.”
But she was heartbroken.
“I just don’t want you to.”
“Thank you.” After a long silence, he said.
Jiang Ying cried even harder, stubbornly shaking her head, “I don’t want your thanks either!”
“Then what do you want? My body is yours, my heart is yours, what else can I give you? Let me think... ten chicken drumsticks?”
Jiang Ying laughed through her tears.
Meng Jingshu found a tissue to wipe her face. He looked at her red eyes and nose and chuckled, “You’ve become a crybaby.”
“It’s all because of you,” she mumbled, pouting slightly.
He wiped away the streaked tears on her face, kissing her soft eyelids, kissing her smooth forehead, again and again, cherishingly.
It is love that makes one infinitely soft, so soft that one cannot bear to let the other suffer even the slightest grievance. Love also makes one immensely strong, strong enough to want to shield each other from all storms.