The Early Spring - Extra Chapter 8

Side Story 8 - Nian Tao

During Shang Zhitao's freshman year of high school, her class organized a New Year's party, and the arts representative tasked everyone with putting together a performance. The golden rule that year was that every single student had to perform, even if it meant playing the role of a tree.

There were many art-track students in the class, so the singing and dancing slots filled up instantly. The homeroom teacher then weighed in, suggesting they shouldn't all sing and dance, as it would make the class look lacking in diverse talents. Consequently, a few male classmates spent the night learning magic tricks, while Shang Zhitao and He Yun looked at each other, suddenly completely at a loss for ideas.

Thus, they volunteered themselves to play trees or hold up signs for other acts, but the classroom was far too small; there was simply no space left for a tree to stand during the singing and dancing routines.

In the end, Shang Zhitao said to the arts representative: "How about I perform calligraphy? He Yun can grind the ink."

"Deal! Once it's written, we'll frame it and hang it at the back of the classroom—it'll be very meaningful."

The classmates Shang Zhitao encountered back then were all quite fun. There were a few troublemakers in the class, but they were all good to Shang Zhitao, mostly because she always offered people her genuine blessings.

Shang Zhitao and He Yun genuinely went through with the calligraphy and ink-grinding performance. A small table was set up in the classroom, and halfway through the party, they began their act. The host announced: "Up next, we have Shang Zhitao and He Yun performing synchronized calligraphy, while other acts continue alongside them. The final work will be displayed at the end."

Every class was holding its own celebration. The fragrance of ink wafted from Shang Zhitao's classroom, which the school leaders caught wind of the moment they stepped through the door. Laughing, they remarked: "Calligraphy as a performance—how wonderful."

And just like that, it passed smoothly.

Shang Zhitao and He Yun breathed a sigh of relief. School let out early that day, and as the two packed up their stationery and walked out of the classroom, they bumped into senior boys. Seeing Shang Zhitao, they asked one another: "Is she the student who performed calligraphy?"

It turned out she had become famous for it.

Two days later, someone stuffed a love letter into Shang Zhitao's hands in the hallway. She asked: "Who is this for?"

"I don't know!" The male student walked away with a flushed face. Shang Zhitao didn't know who it was meant for either, but since it certainly couldn't be for her, she figured she would ask for clarification the next time she ran into him. However, she forgot what he looked like, and the matter was simply dropped. She truly was quite dense.

Shang Zhitao had always assumed that during her student days, Xin Zhaozhou was the only one who had ever liked her, simply because Xin Zhaozhou's affection was far too obvious. The very first time he saw Shang Zhitao, he had said to his classmates: "From now on, whenever we have big lectures in the lecture hall, help me snag the seat right next to Shang Zhitao."

"Oh, and help me stand right behind her in line at the cafeteria."

"Save the seat directly across from her in the library."

"Whenever you see her anywhere, tell me immediately."

The fanfare was grand. Initially, female classmates said to Shang Zhitao: "Xin Zhaozhou, the class heartthrob, likes you."

"Why would he like me?" Shang Zhitao refused to believe it. She merely thought it was a slight coincidence when Xin Zhaozhou sat across from her in the library, stood behind her in the cafeteria line, and a week or two later during large lectures, her female classmates would always leave a seat beside her—a seat that was quickly occupied by Xin Zhaozhou.

In her obliviousness, she found Xin Zhaozhou standing in front of her, his face flushing red as he said: "Shang Zhitao, I like you."

In the chill of a Nanjing winter, he held a bouquet of fresh flowers in his arms to give to her.

So he really does like me.

She was truly a dense person; only explicit favor and devotion could make her sense it. Now, she could feel that Luan Nian loved her, because his favor toward her was far too obvious.

When Shang Zhitao opened her eyes, broad daylight had already arrived.

It felt as though she hadn't slept this deeply in a very long time. Drawing open the curtains, she saw the gloomy sky outside; even from indoors, she could feel the dampness in the air. Rain was coming.

Luan Nian placed his arm over his eyes: "Shang Zhitao! Close the curtains!"

"No!"

Luan Nian leaped out of bed, yanked the curtains shut, scooped her up, and tossed her back onto the mattress: "Close your eyes! Go to sleep!"

Locking her against his chest, his tone wasn't particularly gentle: "Hurry up!"

"Oh."

Shang Zhitao closed her eyes, quite willing to fall back asleep herself. Wrapping her arms around Luan Nian's waist and finding a comfortable spot for her legs between his, she drifted off again. The two best sleeps she got each week were when Luan Nian was by her side. This domineering creature never allowed her to wake up early; as long as he was there, they would sleep until the sun was high in the sky.

This stretch of sleep lasted straight into the afternoon.

When they opened their eyes, torrential rain was pouring down outside, soaking the entire city.

"The weather forecast says it'll rain for two or three days. Monday morning's flight is bound to be delayed."

"Monday is filled with all-day meetings, which I can join remotely. Let's leave on Tuesday."

Over the past two years, everyone had cultivated the habit and capacity for remote work. Lumi once said to Shang Zhitao: "I really hope you can transport your husband—my stubborn mule and head of Lingmei China—back to Beijing on time every Sunday."

"Why?"

"Because whenever he's not at the company, our days are even harder."

When Luan Nian worked remotely, he faced fewer distractions, making his mind even sharper. Reviewing work department by department, every completed review yielded a massive list of to-dos. When he was physically at the company, meeting with various people reduced his generated to-dos, making life a bit easier for everyone.

The two lay in bed watching the rain outside. Luan Nian put on his "Lazy" playlist, and neither spoke. Shang Zhitao traced her finger along Luan Nian's chin; the stubble prickling his face gave her heart a subtle itch.

Shang Zhitao's phone rang. Glancing at it casually, she found it was actually Xin Zhaozhou: How have you been lately? I heard you got married.

Shang Zhitao cast a glance at Luan Nian and tossed the phone aside, unwilling to reply to Xin Zhaozhou in front of him, as Luan Nian was an utterly "petty man."

Luan Nian was not a perfect lover; his flaws were as numerous as his virtues, with possessiveness being his greatest flaw—a fact Shang Zhitao knew all too well. The mere name "Xin Zhaozhou" was enough to send him into a temper.

"Not replying?"

"Huh?"

"You're not replying to the message?" Luan Nian asked her. He didn't even need to look intentionally to know she had a guilty conscience.

"...It's nothing urgent."

"Xin Zhaozhou?"

"?"

He had caught a glimpse when Shang Zhitao unlocked her phone; this man was truly sharp-eyed.

"Asking how you've been lately! Still not replying?" Luan Nian gave her a cold look, his expression clearly saying: I'd like to see what trick you're trying to pull.

"Replying now." Shang Zhitao picked up her phone and replied to Xin Zhaozhou: Yes, I got married. I'm living quite well.

"That's it?" Luan Nian was clearly dissatisfied. This "living quite well" was far too vague; he wanted Shang Zhitao to reply with more detail—for instance, stating that her husband was exceptionally handsome and treated her extraordinarily well, so that "quite well" could take on a concrete shape.

Speaking of "husband," Shang Zhitao never called him that out loud.

It was as if the word "husband" carried an odd awkwardness.

"Should I be more detailed then? It'll look like bragging—there's no need." Shang Zhitao tossed the phone aside again: "I'm hungry."

"Then go cook."

"I'm not good at cooking."

"I'm six years older than you, which means I'll likely die before you. If you don't know how to cook, will you starve when I die?"

"..."

Shang Zhitao scoffed, wrapped herself in clothes, and hopped off the bed. After a quick wash, she stepped into the kitchen. The house was well-stocked with ingredients, but once in the kitchen, she didn't know where to begin. Luan Nian stood there watching her mess around, until she finally surrendered, turning back to look at him pitifully in a plea for help.

"Call me husband."

"?"

"Call me husband, and I'll cook for you."

Luan Nian wanted to hear how it felt to have Shang Zhitao call him husband. He couldn't go through a whole marriage without even hearing his wife call him husband once—wouldn't that mean he married in vain? Did he marry a brother instead?

Shang Zhitao held it in for a long moment before awkwardly murmuring: "Husband."

The corners of Luan Nian's mouth drooped; the feeling was truly bizarre: "Don't call me that ever again."

He pushed Shang Zhitao out of the kitchen. Shang Zhitao had recently taken a liking to gnawing on bones—just like a dog. In the middle of the night yesterday, Luan Nian had pressure-cooked a pot of lamb spine; turning on the stove now, he told Shang Zhitao to wash the vegetables. He then put on a raincoat, dressed Luke in one as well, and took him downstairs to pee. Luke was getting old and no longer loved to charge around as before; combined with the slippery grass, he stumbled and lost his balance. Luan Nian let out a chuckle in the rain, mocking him: "Useless now, aren't you?"

Luke likely understood, letting out a bark at Luan Nian.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of; everyone gets old eventually." He deliberately picked words Luke didn't like to hear.

The rain fell heavily, soaking both man and dog like drowned rats. Hanging his raincoat by the door, Luan Nian pulled Luke over to wipe his fur dry and blow-dry him, fearing he might fall ill. People said that once a dog grew old, it couldn't afford to get sick, as every illness aged them further; thus, the whole family treated Luke like a treasure. Even Doctor Liang, on her occasional visits, would practically revere him, giving him a proper health checkup.

Luan Nian would mock Doctor Liang: "You didn't study veterinary medicine."

"Medical principles are interconnected—don't you get it?" After examining Luke, Doctor Liang said: "Our Luke is truly wonderful, healthy and strong—he'll live to be a long-lived dog."

After a flurry of activity, the lamb spine pot began to boil, and the two sat at the dining table ready to eat. Shang Zhitao suggested having a drink, but Luan Nian refused: "I'm not drinking."

Luan Nian had quit smoking and drinking because Doctor Liang had casually mentioned to him one day: At your age, if you still plan to have a child, you should quit smoking and drinking. He smoked rarely anyway—two or three cigarettes a day, sometimes none at all—but he used to drink heavily. Yet ever since Doctor Liang spoke those words, he hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol.

"I think having a little drink is fine, husband," Shang Zhitao teased him deliberately. Seeing goosebumps rise on Luan Nian's neck, she burst out laughing: "Try calling me wife once!"

"Wife."

Shang Zhitao savored the sound carefully; it was decent.

"A little drink?" Shang Zhitao wanted to take just a small sip, but Luan Nian handed her sparkling water: "You're not allowed to drink either."

"Didn't you used to say there were no taboo restrictions?" Shang Zhitao protested.

"Try taking a drink and see what happens." Luan Nian was too lazy to argue, glaring directly at her.

Shang Zhitao obediently took a sip of sparkling water, then put on disposable gloves to gnaw on the lamb spine. Since she loved gnawing on bones, Luan Nian had cooked up a whole pot of lamb spine and shank, leaving her feeling immensely satisfied inside.

"So Xin Zhaozhou was just catching up with you?" Luan Nian asked her. This man was far too petty—an hour had already passed, yet he still remembered it.

"No."

"?"

"He transferred five thousand yuan to me, saying it was to congratulate me on my marriage. I didn't accept it."

Luan Nian cast a glance at her; Shang Zhitao truly kept things clear-cut.

"Why did he transfer money to you?" Luan Nian pressed further.

"...Because when he got married... I..." sent a red envelope gift. So many years had passed, and they wouldn't meet in person anyway; it was merely sending a red envelope for courtesy's sake, as there was still old classmate camaraderie after all.

"Accept it."

"What?"

"The gift money he transferred to you—accept it."

"And then?"

"I have my eye on a hat; buy it for me."

"..."

Shang Zhitao still couldn't quite read Luan Nian's pulse; she had assumed he would be jealous, but it turned out he just didn't want to lose money. Thus, she picked up her phone, clicked to accept the payment, and thanked Xin Zhaozhou.

"Transfer the money to me."

Luan Nian wanted to taste the feeling of spending Shang Zhitao's ex-boyfriend's money. Clicking to receive the transfer, he went to place an order for that hat—available in two colors, quite nice.

With the action completed, he said to Shang Zhitao: "Isn't he just an ex-boyfriend? There's no need to avoid the subject with me. I have an ex-girlfriend too, as you somewhat know. But I think I'm better than you, because I don't stay in touch with my ex."

Finishing his sentence, Luan Nian raised an eyebrow at Shang Zhitao, waiting for her declaration.

Shang Zhitao wasn't about to declare anything; she was prepared to infuriate Luan Nian to death. She simply minded her own business and gnawed on her bones, eating with absolute bliss.

Since she refused to declare herself, she was the one who suffered.

In the afternoon, while she was reading a book, Luan Nian scooped her up from her chair and placed her directly onto the cold table.

As her skin touched the chill, her body shuddered slightly.

"I'm cold."

"You'll be warm in a moment." Wrapping her into his arms, Luan Nian rested his forehead against hers, asking: "Do you feel my favor and devotion now?"

Shang Zhitao lifted her head to bite his lips, signaling that she did.

"There will be even more favor in the future."

"Just take it all."

Luan Nian thought to himself: Whether it's a new Zhaozhou or an old Zhaozhou, they all have to step aside. This woman is by my side, and I'll cherish her properly myself; all others can just scatter.

It would be even better if we could have a child.