Chapter 452 Modern Arc 8 (Meng Wan x Song Tingzhou)

Chapter 452 Modern Chapter 8 (Meng Wan x Song Tingzhou)

The cold in the north during winter was completely different from the south—dry and biting, the wind so harsh you could barely keep your head up. Meng Wan got out of the taxi and took the backpack that had been in Song Tingzhou's hands the whole way, slinging it over his own shoulder. He said, nervous, "Will your mom really like me?"

She wouldn't give him the cold shoulder the second he walked in, would she? It was the New Year, after all—getting kicked out of the house would be a bad look.

Song Tingzhou was helping the driver pull luggage out of the trunk. These things had been mailed to the city ahead of time, picked up at the airport, and then hauled back to the village by taxi. Song Tingzhou got everything squared away—two suitcases and two big bags, a small part of it was Meng Wan's clothes, and the bulk of it was gifts and local goodies he'd picked out for Chang Jinhua.

"We already video-called a few times back in Guangxi, right? Don't worry, my mom has a great personality."

He always said what he meant and never oversold things just because it was his own mom. Meng Wan relaxed a little.

Song Tingzhou's family home was at the village entrance. Chang Jinhua came out when she heard the car engine, and for once, she didn't look at her tall son first—she looked at the young man talking next to him. Even from far off, she could tell he had fair skin, wearing a black puffer jacket that went past his knees, a cream scarf around his neck, and the thick scarf made his face look even smaller.

He looked like a good kid.

"Xiao Wan, are you cold? Come on in." Chang Jinhua stepped forward to greet him.

"Auntie, I'm good, not cold at all—I'm bundled up." Meng Wan wanted to help with the bags to make a good impression, but neither his mom nor Song Tingzhou would let him lift a finger. They each grabbed a suitcase and headed in.

Meng Wan followed them in with his backpack. Song Tingzhou's house looked like it had been built in the last couple of years—the roof tiles were still bright and new, and the courtyard was paved with cement, neat and spotless.

White smoke was curling out of the chimney, and the second Meng Wan walked in, he smelled meat cooking.

Chang Jinhua smiled. "Xiao Wan, come wash your hands—dinner will be ready soon."

She rarely smiled, and when she did, even Song Tingzhou did a double take.

"Okay, thanks, Auntie." Meng Wan, sticking to his rule of talking less and listening more, went inside. The house was even cleaner than the courtyard—warm white tiles were so shiny you could see your reflection, not much furniture, but every piece was spotless.

Song Tingzhou set the luggage down in the living room and took care of Meng Wan first. "The stove's going in the house. Hand me your coat?"

"It's actually really warm in here." Meng Wan took off his coat, showing a gray fleece hoodie underneath. He whispered to Song Tingzhou, "Should I go help your mom in the kitchen?"

Song Tingzhou rubbed the back of his neck, leaned in, and kissed him. "No need. My mom's quick—she should have the food ready by now. Just sit tight, I'll go look."

There were six plates of fruit and dried snacks on the coffee table. Song Tingzhou grabbed a handful of pine nuts for Meng Wan. There was a nutcracker at the edge of the table. Meng Wan cracked them open one by one and ate them.

Song Tingzhou was right—Chang Jinhua soon called them to wash up and eat.

In the northeast, they ate in the dining room in summer, but in winter, they ate wherever it was warmest. That morning, Chang Jinhua had asked Song Liu's wife to come help with the cooking, and she'd only left once everything was mostly done—she didn't want Meng Wan to feel awkward.

"Xiao Wan, eat up, I won't keep loading your plate." Chang Jinhua filled a full bowl of rice for Meng Wan and smiled at him.

Not bad—way better-looking than the Yang family's youngest son. There wasn't a guy this handsome anywhere around.

She was a tough woman. When Song Tingzhou was a kid and boarding at school, she'd worked outside the home; later, she used the savings her late husband had left to open a small restaurant in the county seat, and business was decent. With Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou home for the New Year, she'd put out a huge spread—chicken, duck, fish, seafood, stir-fries, cold dishes—sixteen dishes in total, everything the family could serve up.

Meng Wan sat down and first picked up a rib for her. "Thank you, Auntie. You should eat plenty too."

Chang Jinhua's smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. "Mm."

"Auntie, your cooking is amazing—better than any restaurant chef."

"This braised pork hock is so good—fall-off-the-bone tender and full of flavor!"

"I love the three-shred cold salad—it's fresh and cuts through the grease."

"Auntie, you're amazing, making all this good food."

Chang Jinhua hadn't smiled this much in her whole life. When her son had told her he liked men, she'd worried, but after all these years, she'd made peace with it.

In past years, it was just her and Song Tingzhou for the New Year—the house was cold and quiet, and no matter how much good food she made, they couldn't finish it, and neither had much appetite.

This year was different. Meng Wan called her "Auntie" at every turn, and she felt like she'd gained another son—a sweet-talking youngest son who never quit.

The dishes were plentiful but didn't go to waste—Song Tingzhou alone ate for three. In the evening, they made dumplings, and Meng Wan helped.

While the dumplings boiled, Chang Jinhua brought over two large boxes. "Xiao Wan, take a look. I don't know what you like, but I heard kids your age all like gadgets, so I got you a phone. If you don't like the color, you can swap it in the city after the New Year."

Meng Wan was overwhelmed. He opened it and saw a small box with this year's latest model fruit phone, and underneath, a tablet.

He should have politely declined, but he was so stunned that he just sat there holding the phone, not reacting.

"You don't like it?" Chang Jinhua had gone to the city specifically to buy it a while back, and she asked when she saw Meng Wan silent.

"No, no, no." Meng Wan snapped out of it. "This is too generous, Auntie. You work hard for your money—I can't accept this."

Chang Jinhua smiled at his flustered look. "You're not a girl, so I didn't prepare jewelry. This is Tingzhou's first time bringing you home—I have to show my appreciation. Take it. After you finish the dumplings, get some sleep—you've both had a long day."

Song Tingzhou came in from setting off firecrackers outside. "Take it. If you don't, Mom won't return it anyway."

Meng Wan truly hadn't expected Chang Jinhua to treat him so well. When he carried the gifts back to his room, he saw there was even a computer desk, with a newly assembled computer on top. His eyes suddenly welled up.

He used to hear people say that present hardships were for better meetings to come, and he'd always found it cheesy.

Suffering was suffering, and good was good—they were things you experienced yourself. What did they have to do with anyone else?

But now, he suddenly felt like he really had become lucky.

After the New Year, they stayed at the Song family home for five more days, even meeting several of Song Tingzhou's relatives. Chang Jinhua introduced Meng Wan openly and generously. Even if others whispered privately, they all greeted him politely to his face. When they heard Meng Wan ran his own business, some even wanted to recommend their kids to his company, but Chang Jinhua shut that down.

When it was time to leave, Chang Jinhua saw them off to the city and dragged Meng Wan to the mall to buy him two new outfits.

On the sixth day of the new year, Meng Wan boarded the train with his new phone and the clothes Chang Jinhua had bought him, saying goodbye to her alongside Song Tingzhou and returning to Lingzhou County.

Then came another busy, fulfilling stretch of life. Sometimes, when he and Song Tingzhou were swamped, Chang Jinhua would even come visit them in Guangxi.

Meng Wan's small projects grew into big ones, and his small company grew into a large one. Before the Pinglu Canal project was finished, he'd finally established his own trading company at the port.

Fruits from the village would be shipped down the canal to the port and then exported overseas.

Meng Wan left the Lingzhou County matters to Zhang Yu and spent over half a year at the port before returning. Before he even got home, his maternal uncle called him over for a meal, and Song Tingzhou—whose relationship with him was no longer a secret—was invited too.

Meng Wan rubbed his full stomach as they went out for a walk to digest, and the two of them strolled over to the low hill behind his uncle's house.

They hadn't seen each other in two months, and with relatives around at his uncle's place, it was hard to get close. Now, Meng Wan tugged Song Tingzhou up the hillside.

"Wanwan." Song Tingzhou's throat tightened. "We're going home tomorrow."

Meng Wan looked at him like he was confused. "I know?" He pulled two bottles of mosquito repellent from the pocket of his sun-protection jacket, sprayed around himself and Song Tingzhou, and said, "I'm taking you somewhere great."

Song Tingzhou was nervous and expectant, gripping Meng Wan's hand tightly as they climbed to the top of the hill. Two tangerine trees had been planted slightly off-center, leaving a gap in the middle. Meng Wan reached up into the branches and pulled down a foam pad, gave it a few pats, and plopped himself down.

"Sit down too—what are you standing there like a statue for?" Meng Wan patted the spot beside him.

"Mm." Song Tingzhou sat down right next to Meng Wan. It had been years since he'd felt this awkward in front of him.

The night breeze carried away the lingering heat of late summer, and Meng Wan tilted his head up amid the cicada calls. "The moon is so bright tonight!"

Song Tingzhou felt a mix of relief and disappointment. "Yeah, it's really bright."

He followed Meng Wan's example and looked up at the moon, then felt a hand on his shoulder—the young man beside him pulled him in for a kiss.

Song Tingzhou didn't hesitate for a second, immediately taking control.

After a long moment... Meng Wan swatted the hand on his lower back away. "We'll talk about it tomorrow when we're home."

Song Tingzhou lowered his hand, then quickly wrapped it around Meng Wan's shoulder again, a hint of a smile in his voice, almost like he was making fun of himself. "You might not believe me, but I've liked you since the very first moment I saw you."

Back then, he'd doubted himself too—wondering if he was that shallow, his heart racing for a stranger he'd only met once. Would he easily fall for someone else if they were better looking than Meng Wan?

Luckily, the answer was no, or he wouldn't have dared to keep showing up in front of Meng Wan.

Meng Wan tilted his head to rest on Song Tingzhou's shoulder, his eyes crinkling into crescents. Moonlight spilled over the branches, and his gaze held a love deeper than the moonlight. "That early? I thought it was when you came to the countryside, but that was only our second meeting anyway."

He turned to look at Song Tingzhou and found the man's eyes fixed on him—gentle and profound, unchanged over the years.

From the very first second I saw you, even the person in my dreams had a clear face. Through the tunnel of time spanning millennia, I feel like I could love you forever.

Even if they were no longer the same people they once were, across time and space, they would still fall for the same soul.

—

Under the same round moon, the ships at the port were illuminated brightly. The patrol boat lay quietly docked, its dim side lights like starlight fallen into the sea.

A young man walked briskly toward the wheelhouse. "Brother Quan, the kid's awake and crying for his dad! Go get your nephew to come play with him?"

A kid with hair down to his waist sat up in bed, tears welling in his eyes as he looked around the unfamiliar room.

"Dad, Papa... where are you..."

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