pertwk Chapter 104 Winter Vacation
Chapter 104 Winter Vacation
Everyone says that high school days are like counting down the days.
But before I knew it, winter break was here.
In February, Wuhan finally started to feel like winter.
It wasn't the kind of winter in the north where heavy snow blocks the doors and your breath turns to ice; it was the kind of damp, chilling cold that seeps into your bones.
The temperature wasn't low, around seven or eight degrees Celsius, but when the wind blew, it felt like a knife scraping my face, very painful.
People on the street walked with their necks hunched and hands in their pockets, as if they wanted to stuff themselves into their clothes.
Song Huan took off the short-sleeved shirt she had worn for three seasons and put on a long-sleeved one.
When the cold air moves south, you have to wear a down jacket, zip it up to your chin, and wrap yourself up like a ball.
He stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself, feeling like a penguin.
However, these aren't the majestic emperor penguins of Antarctica; they're the ordinary penguins that stand in glass cases in zoos, seemingly lost in thought.
During this winter break, he was a very principled person.
There are three situations in which he will not go out.
First, it's cold outside.
Second, it's hot outside.
Third, it's neither too hot nor too cold outside.
Zhang Xuejuan's comment on this was: "Then you might as well just die in bed."
Song Huan thought the suggestion was very constructive, so she turned over, pulled the blanket over her head, and continued to sleep.
On the day the winter vacation homework was handed out, he stuffed the math test paper into the bottom of his schoolbag, put the physics test paper on top, and folded the English test paper twice and stuffed it into the side pocket.
Students are required to write three compositions in Chinese, titled "My Winter Vacation," "A Meaningful Event," and "New Year, New Look."
He stared at the three topics for ten seconds and felt that the three essays were very meaningful.
Then I threw the composition book into the drawer, stacking it together with the composition books from last winter vacation, the winter vacation before last, and the winter vacation three years ago.
On the third day of his holiday, he pulled the math test paper out from the bottom of his bag, glanced at the first multiple-choice question, chose C, and then put it back in.
On the fifth day of his holiday, he pulled out his physics test paper, glanced at the big questions, wrote "Solution" followed by a colon, and that was it.
On the seventh day of his holiday, he finally took the English test paper out of his side pocket.
The test paper was crumpled up, with the corners rolled up, like an old newspaper that had been tucked in a pocket for a year.
He unfolded the test paper, flattened it, placed it on the table, stared at the first cloze test for three minutes, then lay down on the table, pressed his face against the test paper, and closed his eyes.
It's raining outside the window, not heavily, just a light drizzle, pattering against the wall with a tinkling sound.
The room was dark, the curtains were drawn, and only the bedside lamp was on, casting a dim yellow light on the table and making the papers look like old newspapers.
Song Huan lay on the table, listening to the sound of rain, her eyelids growing heavier and heavier.
"Bang bang bang!"
The door was pounded on so hard it made a deafening noise.
It wasn't the polite knocking; it was the banging that said, "I know you're home, stop pretending and open the door right now."
Three taps, pause for two seconds, then three more taps, pause for two seconds again.
The frequency is even, the intensity is moderate, and it carries an undeniable persistence.
Song Huan lay face down on the table, not moving.
He could guess who was standing outside the door with his butt.
In this neighborhood, there are only two people who would knock on doors like that.
One was a deliveryman, and the other was Xiao Yunqing.
But the deliveryman won't come to the door at noon during winter break, so there's only one answer.
He sighed, got up from the table, and a red mark was pressed against his face by the test paper, running diagonally from his cheek to his chin, as if he had been slapped.
He rubbed his face, slipped on his slippers, walked over, and opened the door.
A cold wind blew in through the crack in the door, into his collar, and he shrank his neck.
Xiao Yunqing stood at the door, wearing a cream-colored turtleneck sweater and a light gray woolen coat, all buttoned up neatly.
Her hair was down, draped over her shoulders, with the ends slightly curled and blown a little by the wind.
Her face was a little red from the cold wind, the tip of her nose was red, her eyes were bright, and a tiny droplet of water clung to her eyelashes.
He stood there, looking like he had stepped right out of a magazine cover.
Song Huan glanced at her, then at the sweatshirt she had been wearing for three days without changing it; the collar was loose and the cuffs were pilling.
He moved aside.
Xiao Yunqing squeezed in, bringing with her a cool breeze and a faint fragrance.
She closed the door, stomped the water off her feet, and stood in the entryway to change her shoes.
The movements were natural, like returning to one's own home.
On the bottom shelf of the shoe cabinet were her slippers, pink and fluffy, with a rabbit ear on the top.
These shoes were bought by Zhang Xuejuan. She bought two pairs, one for Xiao Yunqing and the other for herself.
Xiao Yunqing always wore these shoes when she came, and after wearing them, she would put them back in their original place and wear them again the next time she came.
She changed her shoes, walked into the living room, and threw her bag onto the sofa.
Then he turned around, looked at Song Huan, and his eyes shone like two stars.
"Huanhuan! Do you know how well I did on my final exams?!"
Her voice was high-pitched and bright, filled with an irrepressible excitement, like someone who had just won the lottery standing at the door and hadn't even had a chance to go inside before shouting.
Song Huan leaned against the doorframe, yawned, and said, "Isn't it great?"
"Fourth in the class!" She held up four fingers and waved them in front of her. Her fingers were white, and her nails were trimmed very short. "Fourth! Even the homeroom teacher praised me for improving so quickly!"
After she finished speaking, she tilted her chin up, waiting for his reaction.
His facial expressions were rich; his eyebrows were raised, the corners of his mouth were upturned, his eyes were curved, and his whole face was glowing.
Seeing her like that, Song Huan nodded and turned to walk towards the living room.
I walked up to the sofa, plopped down, and sank into it.
He stretched his legs onto the coffee table, wiggled his toes to find a comfortable position, then leaned back against the cushions and closed his eyes.
"Xiao Yunqing".
"Huh?" She was still standing in the entryway, not quite understanding.
"Pour me a glass of hot water." His voice was lazy, like a cat basking in the winter sun, rolling out from his throat with a slight nasal tone.
Xiao Yunqing was taken aback for a moment, but still went to the kitchen, took a cup, and poured hot water.
The water was boiled this morning and is still warm.
She walked back with the cup and placed it on the coffee table.
Song Huan didn't open her eyes. "Bring out the fruit that's been cut up in the kitchen."
Xiao Yunqing turned and went to the kitchen.
There was a fruit platter in the refrigerator, containing apples, pears, and oranges, cut into pieces and arranged in a glass bowl, sealed with plastic wrap.
She brought it out, placed it on the coffee table, and stood beside him watching.
Song Huan still didn't open her eyes, but her mouth moved slightly, "There's more..."
"Song Huan, are you sick or something?!" Xiao Yunqing finally snapped.
The sound exploded in the living room, crisp and clear, startling the cat that was dozing on the neighbor's windowsill, which jumped down and ran away.
She took off her apron, not knowing when she had put it on, probably grabbed it from behind the door while serving fruit, and threw it onto the sofa.
"I am not your servant!"
Song Huan opened one eye, glanced at her, and then closed it again.
Song Huan's expression was indifferent, as if she had taken life and death lightly, as if she were talking about something very serious. "Please help me. I just had non-invasive soft tissue reduction surgery on the top of my head, and I can't move for the time being."
There was a two-second silence in the living room.
Xiao Yunqing stood in front of the coffee table, stunned.
Her expression changed from anger to confusion, and from confusion to tension.
Her brows furrowed, her lips pursed, and her eyes fixed on him, scanning him from top to bottom and then from bottom to top.
"What kind of surgery?" Her voice changed, from a bristling cat to a cautious kitten, soft and trembling slightly. "How come I didn't know? Why didn't Aunt Zhang tell me?"
She walked over, squatted down beside the sofa, and tilted her head to look at him.
She reached out her hand, wanting to touch his head, but then pulled it back, afraid of touching the wound.
"Are you in pain?" she asked, her voice even softer. "Is there anything else you want to eat? I'll go out and buy it for you."
Song Huan opened her eyes and saw her squatting by the sofa.
His face changed from angry red to worried white, and the light in his eyes changed from sparks to tears.
She placed her hands on her knees, her fingers gripping her trouser legs tightly.
He suddenly felt a little guilty.
But the play has already gone this far, and it wouldn't be appropriate to take it back now.
"It's nothing," he waved his hand dismissively, "just a minor surgery."
Xiao Yunqing was still very nervous.
She squatted there, tilting her head to look at him, "What exactly is that so-called surgery? I've never heard of it."
Song Huan thought for a moment, racking her brains, and found a suitable explanation: "Oh, you can think of it as getting a haircut."
The living room fell silent again.
Xiao Yunqing squatted there, her expression changing from worry to confusion, from confusion to disbelief, and from disbelief to anger.
This process took about two seconds.
Then she stood up, picked up the cushion from the sofa, and swung it around, smashing it into his face.
"Song Huan, how dare you play me!"
The pillow was filled with cotton, so it didn't hurt when it hit my face, but it made a loud noise, like hitting a cotton bomb.
Song Huan was knocked backward by the impact, and the back of her head hit the back of the sofa. It didn't hurt, but she was a little dazed.
"Ah! She's murdering her husband!" he yelled, clutching his head. His voice was just loud enough for the whole hallway to hear.
Xiao Yunqing's face changed from white to red, and then from red to purple.
She picked up the cushion and smashed it again.
This time, the blow to the shoulder was much stronger than before.
"Say it again!" she gritted her teeth, the words squeezed out from between them.
"Murder your husband!" Song Huan shouted again, this time with a smile.
Xiao Yunqing pounced on him, pinching his face with one hand and pressing down on his shoulder with the other.
Her fingers were cool as she pinched his face, like two blocks of ice.
Song Huan's face was pinched out of shape, and her lips pouted like a goldfish.
"Let go!"
"I won't let go! You tricked me!" She pinched harder, her nails digging into her flesh. It didn't hurt, but it was a little itchy.
Song Huan struggled for a moment, but couldn't break free.
Her grip wasn't strong, but the angle was tricky, pinching the softest part of her cheeks, making it impossible to apply any force.
He simply stopped struggling, leaned back on the sofa, his face was being pinched by her, his lips were pouting, and his eyes were rolling upwards as he looked at the ceiling.
Xiao Yunqing pinched for a while, then got tired and let go.
She sat beside her, fuming, her chest heaving, her face still red.
She turned her head away, refusing to look at him.
My ponytail wasn't tied up today; my hair was loose on my shoulders, covering half of my face.
The living room fell silent.
The rain was still falling outside the window, pattering against the air conditioner unit.
The hot water on the coffee table was steaming, and the apples in the fruit bowl had oxidized, with the edges turning yellow.
Xiao Yunqing sat there, drawing circles on her knees with her fingers. After a while, her thoughts drifted over.
Gently, softly, like raindrops falling on the water's surface, creating a small ripple.
[I got fourth in the class, and he wasn't even a little happy.]
[You just lied to me.]
[You just know how to annoy me.]
[I came all the way here to tell him, but he didn't care at all.]
……
Please give more likes to encourage more updates! In addition to rating, I will add an extra chapter for every 1000 likes.