Chapter 584
Extra: A Touch
The afternoon breeze gradually changed its nature, no longer just hot and dry, but began to bring a touch of coolness.
But in the sweltering summer heat, this meager coolness was ultimately insufficient; even under the shade of the trees, the girl's forehead was still slightly damp with sweat.
Han Zhou clicked his tongue in amazement, handing over a tissue as he said, "Wearing a jacket in this heat, I thought you wouldn't sweat."
"Unfortunately, even beautiful girls sweat."
Mo Yixia glanced at him sideways. "You don't actually think that I took off my clothes just so you could touch my breasts, do you?"
"Actually, you could have completely removed the word 'only'..."
Mo Yixia seemed not to hear, and did not take the tissue. She simply pointed to the painting in her hand with her eyes, indicating that she did not have her hands free.
"You can't possibly use two hands to hold this thing..." Han Zhou sighed, but still bent down and wiped the thin layer of sweat from her forehead.
"Aren't you being a little too lazy today?"
He tossed the tissues into the bag at his feet, intending to take them with him when he left.
What's wrong with being a little lazy sometimes?
Mo Yixia raised her hand and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, saying in a matter-of-fact tone, "Anyway, I don't need to do it myself."
Seeing Han Zhou staring intently at her free hand, she was not embarrassed at all. Instead, she calmly said, "You can touch my hand anytime you want. There's no need to waste this opportunity."
"Aren't we having an equal exchange? I touch your head, you touch mine, so there's no need to waste any opportunities, right?"
"I'm not very interested in touching your head, but you're very interested in touching mine. Do you really think this is an equal exchange?"
After a pause, Mo Yixia sighed with a hint of regret, "If it weren't for the fact that you didn't even dare to touch my chest, I would have thought you omitted a word before 'head'."
Han Zhou: "..."
"Aren't you going to ask which word is omitted?" Mo Yixia asked with a half-smile.
"...I would rather die than ask."
"I wouldn't have the heart to beat you to death."
The girl's eyes flickered, and her voice softened, like the sparse sunlight filtering through the trees in the afternoon, adding a touch of languor. "However, if you want to touch my head, even if it's in exchange for your head, you'll have to satisfy me first."
Han Zhou didn't say anything, but occasionally wiped the sweat from her forehead, thinking that this would at least make the guy a little more satisfied.
The clouds in the sky drifted slowly, letting the summer breeze tear them apart and gather them together, languidly mirroring the posture of the girl on the ground.
Mo Yixia enjoyed Han Zhou's service with a clear conscience, then suddenly asked, "How was it? Did it shatter someone's fantasy?"
Han Zhou didn't ask what the so-called fantasy was. Even a fool could tell that this guy had prepared some dirty jokes. He just picked up his cola and took a big gulp.
"Speaking of fantasy... I actually always thought your sweat glands were located on your tongue."
Mo Yixia remained noncommittal, and said slowly, "So... you're drinking my bodily fluids now?"
"Cough, cough, cough..."
Han Zhou choked suddenly, coughing violently and almost spitting out all the cola he had just drunk.
Mo Yixia turned her head slightly, enjoying his disheveled appearance with great interest, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on her lips.
"Should I say at this point, 'Don't spit it out, swallow it all'?"
Seeing Han Zhou's dark face and silence, she suddenly clicked her tongue, moved her face closer, and said with a half-smile, "Are you thinking now... that one day you'll pay for what happened today tenfold and make me swallow it?"
Han Zhou's expression froze.
"I don't understand what you're saying..."
"Yeah."
Mo Yixia raised her hand and tucked the strands of hair that had been ruffled by the wind back behind her ear.
Han Zhou felt like he had seen a ghost. How did this guy figure it out? The thought did flash through his mind for a moment, but only for a moment. Could this guy really read minds?
"I was just guessing."
The next second, as if she had precisely captured the doubt in his heart, the girl's unhurried voice rang in his ear, "But your expression tells me that this is indeed what you think."
"I still don't understand what you're saying," Han Zhou said, feigning ignorance.
"If you don't understand, then forget it."
Mo Yixia reminded her, "But you should know that I can't always be the innocent high school girl I am now. By the time you want to understand in the future, I might not understand anymore."
"Please, please leave the term 'pure high school girl' alone..."
Han Zhou sighed, then looked suspicious and said strangely, "Speaking of which, aren't you saying the opposite? When you're no longer innocent, shouldn't you know more than you do now?"
Mo Yixia glanced at him with a half-smile, but offered no explanation.
Han Zhou didn't dare to ask any more questions, lest he fall into another trap. His gaze fell on the painting in Mo Yixia's hand.
He probably started drawing this when he went down the mountain to buy Coca-Cola, because Mo Yixia in the painting is still wearing a mask and is sitting on a stone bench gazing into the distance. Although only her eyes are visible, you can still see a bit of boredom in her expression, and a hint of loneliness in her eyes.
The person in the painting doesn't look exactly like her, but the carefree charm in her eyes and brows does have a bit of her own personality.
So this is what he's like when I'm not around...
Thinking of this, Han Zhou felt inexplicably choked up.
"What, are you jealous because no little boy is giving you drawings?"
Seeing his sudden sullen expression, Mo Yixia asked with a half-smile.
"I'm not that naive."
Han Zhou snapped out of his thoughts and said irritably, "Besides, even if someone were to send me a painting, it should be a young girl."
"Oh?"
Mo Yixia lowered the brim of her hat, narrowed her eyes slightly, and said casually, "Do you like young girls that much?"
Han Zhou was taken aback, only then remembering that the other person had just mentioned that she had a dream last night in which she seemed to have a good relationship with a certain girl.
He said, half-laughing and half-crying, "What do you mean I'm jealous? Could it be that you're the one who's jealous?"
These words were somewhat nonsensical, but Mo Yixia immediately understood what he meant. She sighed and said, "To be able to call jealousy 'envy,' it seems that your intellectual development really can't be compensated for by just eating fish."
Jealousy...
The girl's frankness caught Han Zhou off guard. What puzzled him even more was—since she clearly knew about the guzheng, why wasn't she jealous of the guzheng, but instead jealous of a girl from his dream?
Of course, he would never ask such a question. Mo Yixia could read his mind; the fact that he didn't bring it up meant that she didn't want to answer either.
I don't want to answer at this time.
"May I ask what kind of dream it was?" he asked tentatively after a moment's hesitation.
Mo Yixia pretended to recall for a moment, then turned her head to look at me and said in a serious tone, "I only remember you telling me that I would definitely be yours."
Han Zhou's lips twitched: "You said before that you remembered a girl who liked to tilt her head?"
“This is my side story, is it appropriate to mention other people?” Mo Yixia gave him a strange look.
Han Zhou was speechless.
The sound of cicadas rose and fell in the woods again, like the tides, sometimes near and sometimes far. The shadows of the leaves swayed gently between the two of them, breaking into shimmering patches of light.
After wiping the thin layer of sweat from Mo Yixia's forehead for what felt like the umpteenth time, he finally couldn't help but ask, "I've been wiping your sweat for so long, and I even fed you cola afterwards. Are you satisfied now?"
"I'll be satisfied if you feed me with your mouth," the girl said lazily.
"You wish!" Han Zhou's face darkened, and he said irritably, "You'd be more likely to feed me with your mouth..."
He regretted it as soon as he said it.
Sure enough, the next second Mo Yixia sat up straight, casually took off her baseball cap, and her long hair suddenly spread out in the wind, fluttering gently. "Okay."
She turned her head and looked over, a faint and bright smile spreading across her eyes.
"Open your mouth."
For a fleeting moment, Han Zhou felt an urge to open his mouth, but he managed to hold it back.
He swallowed hard and abruptly changed the subject: "You have to tell me how I can satisfy you, right?"
"Didn't I already tell you?"
As she spoke, Mo Yixia took a sip of cola but didn't swallow it, her smile deepening in her eyes.
Han Zhou felt uncomfortable under her gaze and said with a tense expression, "No, you need to choose someone else."
Mo Yixia didn't speak, or rather, she was in no condition to speak. She just puffed out her cheeks slightly, turned her head, and continued to look at Han Zhou.
To be honest, she looked quite adorable right now, so adorable that Han Zhou almost couldn't resist agreeing to her request. But the next second, Mo Yixia had already swallowed the cola.
The faint swallowing sound was particularly clear during the brief pause in the cicadas' chirping.
Han Zhou felt a sudden emptiness in his heart.
"Are you thinking about...?"
Just then, the girl's voice rang in his ears, "If there's another chance, you absolutely must seize it?"
Han Zhou was slightly taken aback, because this was the first time Mo Yixia had guessed his thoughts wrong.
He hesitated for a moment, but decided to tell the truth: "What I was thinking was..."
"unimportant."
Mo Yixia interrupted him, put down her cola cup, and gently shook her head. Because she had taken off her baseball cap, strands of hair would occasionally slip off her shoulders. She raised her hand and casually tucked them behind her ears, her movements slow and deliberate.
"Whatever you were thinking just now..."
She turned to look at me and said in an ambiguous tone, "Now, just think as I say."
Before Han Zhou could react, she thought for a moment and continued, "Let's change it. The back of this painting is still blank. Take this pen. If you can draw me looking happy, I'll give you a chance to pat my head."
The look of happiness...
Han Zhou was slightly taken aback, but did not refuse. He hesitated and said, "But I'm not good at drawing."
"I'm not asking you to draw me exactly like this."
Mo Yixia put her baseball cap back on, glanced at him, and said, "Even with stick figure drawing skills, it shouldn't be too difficult to draw a happy person, right?"
"I think it's quite difficult..." Han Zhou said with a wry smile.
"If you know me even a little bit, it won't be difficult."
Han Zhou took the drawing paper and pencil somewhat blankly, the tip of the pencil lightly touching the large blank space on the paper, completely unsure of how to begin.
Fortunately, just as she knew that the examiner's movements behind her would affect the candidate's thoughts, Mo Yixia did not watch him draw. She simply sat quietly to the side, occasionally taking a sip of her now slightly soothing cola, her gaze drifting to the distant wheat fields and sky.
Perhaps it was because the sun was beginning to temper its light and heat, but that profile, which should have had a somewhat aloof air, appeared a little softer in the sunlight, and the beauty mark at the corner of her eye seemed to have absorbed some warmth.
Is this what happiness looks like...?
Han Zhou pondered for a long time before finally beginning to write.
The pen tip made a soft rustling sound on the paper, mixed with the sound of the wind and the gradually thinning cicada chirps.
He painted very seriously. Although his brushwork was immature and his lines were not very smooth, he tried his best to capture the core feeling of this afternoon—that tranquil, warm, and peaceful feeling that seemed to have been briefly forgotten by time.
Time flows quietly through the pen and in silence.
But he only drew a crooked sycamore tree and a shape that could barely be identified as a stone pier.
For nearly half an hour, he hadn't even managed to draw a single image of Mo Yixia.
Ultimately, what exactly is Yixia's happiness... no, what is Yixia's happiness?
If he can't even figure out this problem, even if he can perfectly replicate Mo Yixia's occasional smile using the status bar, he probably still won't be able to meet her requirements.
Han Zhou couldn't help but raise his head and secretly turn his face away.
In my line of sight, Mo Yixia rested her chin on her hand, still gazing at the distant wheat field and sky. Without the mask to conceal her face, her expression was more clearly visible. It was a look of utter boredom, exactly the same as the other side of the painting—the scene that the girl had observed before.
However, the difference is that when she was wearing a mask, the girl seemed distant and lonely, but now that the mask was gone, a very faint smile could be seen on the corner of her lips.
Those who don't know her would never notice this.
Is this what happiness is for Yixia? Unrestrained and freely exposed?
Han Zhou thought to himself with a wicked sense of humor, but then he saw the girl look over as if she had sensed something, and she clicked her tongue in an ambiguous way.
Fortunately, she didn't use her mind-reading ability. She just looked at the terrible painting and said, "Half an hour has passed. Do you think my happiness is just a tree and a stone pier?"
Han Zhou felt a little guilty, thinking that the reason Mo Yixia could still see the stone pier was probably because of her mind-reading ability. He was about to explain when he suddenly thought of something and pretended to be calm, saying, "Do you know what 'dotting the eyes' means in painting a dragon?"
Mo Yixia didn't speak, but waited quietly for him to continue.
"The so-called 'dotting the eyes' in painting a dragon means that the dragon painted by the painter is so lifelike that once the eyes are painted, the dragon will break through the wall and fly away."
Mo Yixia remained noncommittal, then looked down at the painting again for a few seconds: "So what does this painting have to do with being lifelike?"
Han Zhou smiled slightly: "If I add a few more strokes, it will become more vivid."
Although he spoke with confidence, he was actually a little apprehensive, because he couldn't be sure if it was really Yixia's happiness.
Under Mo Yixia's gaze, he took a deep breath before slowly putting pen to paper and drawing two sitting stick figures on the shape that resembled a stone pier.
The lines are so simple they're almost childish: a round head with a few stick-like limbs.
"How was it?" he asked hesitantly.
Seeing that Mo Yixia did not react and was just quietly looking at the two stick figures, he felt a tightness in his heart. He then used wavy lines to add long hair to one of the stick figures, as well as an abstract baseball cap.
"Wouldn't that make it more vivid?" he asked again, forcing himself to be brave.
After an unknown amount of time, Mo Yixia finally responded. She pursed her lips, pulled down the brim of her hat, and raised her hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She said softly, "It seems that even if your intelligence is questionable, you still know me to some extent."
"but……"
She took the pencil from Han Zhou's hand and added a few strokes to the picture as well.
Although it was just a few strokes, her movements immediately brought the scene to life. The stick figures were still stick figures, but now they were dressed in clearly identifiable clothes—
A suit.
And a pure white wedding dress.
Even that abstract baseball cap has been transformed into a light veil.
Han Zhou froze, his heart pounding as if it had been struck by something. It took him a while to come to his senses, and he said in a daze, "You know how to paint?"
"I don't quite understand."
The girl gently shook her head.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew from afar, sweeping across the wheat field and stirring up layers of golden waves that stretched all the way to the horizon. It then passed through the stream, shattering the shimmering light, and finally brushed against the girl's long hair, lifting the strands high into the air.
"But I understand a little about happiness."
As she spoke, she added a slowly setting sun to the image above the scene—a sight that clearly didn't match the actual afternoon atmosphere, yet surprisingly fit her imagination. (End of Chapter)