Over the course of a few days, Feng Man had already grown accustomed to the stop-and-go life on the road. She could even relax in the cab, though sitting for long stretches made her buttocks ache. To remedy this, she sewed a soft cushion on the road using scraps of useless cloth from the truck frame.
The sight of Feng Man earnestly sewing on the moving truck entered Cheng Lang’s peripheral vision. Even the lazy way she placed the cushion on the seat, plopped down, and stretched comfortably caught his eye.
He hurriedly averted his gaze, thinking she was rather delicate. The next moment, however, her soft voice drifted over.
“Don’t you get tired driving all day every day? Want me to sew one for you?” Feng Man wanted to repay his kindness. She couldn’t treat her free driver like a workhorse; some humanitarian concern was in order.
But he was a stubborn mule. It was as if he’d heard some strange suggestion. He tilted his head and gave her a look with unclear meaning, his eyes seeming to say—have you ever seen a grown man use one of those…
Feng Man pursed her lips, refusing to stoop to the level of a rough man.
Long-haul driving was undoubtedly torturous. Feng Man noticed Cheng Lang smoking a bit more frequently. After lunch, he still lit one up to perk himself up.
The not-so-pleasant smoke wafted into her nose, but she had no grounds to complain about her free driver. She quietly shifted her body, moving from the center of the right-side passenger seat to the corner by the door. She slowly leaned her head toward the window, sticking it out slightly to keep company with the fresh, clean air.
Her movements were gentle. At first glance, it looked like she was just peering out at the scenery, leaving only her fluffy head facing the driver. Cheng Lang glanced sideways, his thin lips curving slightly as he shook the cigarette emitting white mist between his fingers.
Most of the journey was dull. There weren’t many vehicles on the national highway, and the only companion was the gentle breeze drifting by. Unable to bear Cheng Lang’s taciturn nature, Feng Man took the initiative to chat, trying to deepen her understanding of her fiancé—who might become her husband.
“Cheng Lang, what do you do for work in Ink River?”
“It’s really mining?”
Feng Man remembered the book vaguely mentioning that her fiancé later rose to become a manager in a well-known mine district in Ink River, achieving considerable success in his career.
“Mm.” Cheng Lang gave a vague grunt in response.
One chattered on endlessly while the other remained tight-lipped. Feng Man was about to probe further about the mine district when Cheng Lang unexpectedly spoke up first. “You dared to run away from the wedding. Aren’t you afraid of getting caught?”
Zhao Gang was no pushover. Escaping on the day of the wedding feast was like slapping him hard across the face. If she really got dragged back, the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.
“What’s there to fear?” Feng Man lifted her chin lightly, utterly fearless. “Marrying Zhao Gang would be hell. Outside hell, isn’t everywhere paradise?”
She had even bet correctly on this—Cheng Lang hadn’t driven her away due to Zhao Gang’s influence. He truly was a good man.
Cheng Lang had never heard such talk before. In the rearview mirror hanging above the cab, he caught sight of Feng Man’s fearless expression.
“You’ve got some nerve, following a stranger thousands of kilometers away all by yourself.” His memory of the timid eldest daughter of the neighbor Feng family was hazy, yet here she was, daring to flee her wedding, climb onto his truck, and venture alone to a distant place. Cheng Lang couldn’t help but look at her again, only to meet Feng Man’s deep, dark eyes in the mirror. Her pupils were pitch-black, pure without a trace of impurity, dazzling and bright like black gems.
Feng Man looked at him. “Because you’re here.”
Cheng Lang had never seen such bright, clear eyes, rippling with a hint of laughter and even an indefinable trust.
Her words were half-true, half-false, but they helped build a good rapport between them. She added sincerely, “Although we haven’t seen each other in years, and my impression of you is from our teenage days, I remember you being upright and kind—a really good person.”
He turned away, his distinctively knuckled hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
They headed south, now less than three hundred kilometers from Ink River. At Cheng Lang’s pace, they would arrive early the next morning.
In the dead of night, Feng Man had fallen asleep, her head resting against the seatback as usual, arms crossed over her chest, with a thin shirt draped over her front.
To reach their destination by morning, Cheng Lang—who had rested a few hours that afternoon—planned to drive through the night. But the midnight mountain road was eerily silent, with only the rustling of leaves in the distance. On the dashboard sat a package of food wrapped in white paper.
Before sleeping, Feng Man had specially picked out several snacks—peach crisps, biscuits, and milk candies, among others—wrapped them in white paper for Cheng Lang to eat if he got hungry in the night.
The items in the white paper caught Cheng Lang’s eye; they were all his favorites. In just a few short days together, she had noticed.
His sharp jawline tensed even more, a surge of irritation rising in his chest. Cheng Lang looked up at the sky—clear moon, sparse stars, no different from the night roads he’d driven before. Yet the soft breathing from beside him brushed like raven feathers, making that irritation even harder to suppress.
He gritted his teeth hard, took a cigarette from the pack, and was about to light it when something occurred to him. He hesitated, then pulled the truck over, preparing to step out to smoke.
As he opened the door and turned to get down, he felt something approaching. Suddenly, weight settled on his shoulder, and an itch grazed his neck, like a feather softly brushing…
Cheng Lang froze. Looking down, he saw the sweetly sleeping woman had slumped against his shoulder, even adjusting her position so her cheek pressed closer. Her profile nestled tightly against him—unbelievably soft.
Her light breaths teasingly brushed over, sending shivers through Cheng Lang.
The man who faced dangers without flinching now found himself retreating step by step. He shifted his body back an inch, only for the woman in her sleep to pursue relentlessly, sticking close again.
All around was pitch black, save for the bright moon hanging high, its soft glow spilling down, tenderly outlining the corners of her eyes and brows. Unusual brightness flickered in Cheng Lang’s narrow phoenix eyes, reflecting her dense, curled lashes, pert nose tip, and the red lips that chattered endlessly by day but now quietly closed.
With no escape, his body tensed, allowing the gentle breaths to waft over his neck—like invisible silk threads wrapping around, seeping from the skin’s weakest points and instantly spreading to his limbs.
The thin clothing couldn’t block the rising heat. Cheng Lang squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing the unusual sensation. Then he snapped them open, his gaze turning cold. Resolutely, he raised a hand to push away the woman leaning on his shoulder.
But the force was light—so light he didn’t even notice.
Feng Man slept soundly, but leaning on the seatback was uncomfortable. In her haze, it felt like she’d leaned against a large plush toy on her bed at home, making it much cozier. She hadn’t expected the big bear to grow hands and try to push her away.
Pushed back three inches, Feng Man irritably hugged it again, pillowing her head on the “bear,” wrapping her arms tightly around it. Once “it” stopped moving, she was satisfied and drifted back to sleep.
……
At dawn’s first light, Feng Man opened her bleary eyes, just in time to witness the sunrise in the east.
Orange sunlight haloed the golden crow, leaping from the mountaintop as if bursting with a myriad rays, dyeing the peak in brilliant golden splendor.
“Wow, so beautiful!” Feng Man hurriedly called Cheng Lang to look.
But the free driver seemed rather cold today, responding indifferently without even glancing her way. His jawline was taut and sharp.
When she looked again and saw their arrival spot in broad daylight, Feng Man was surprised to find it differed from her expectations.
Had they only covered half the night road last night?
She didn’t voice it. After all, the one suffering was the driver; she couldn’t very well question where he’d gone in the middle of the night or why he hadn’t kept driving normally.
That would be rude.
Besides, even an iron man needed rest. Cheng Lang must have slacked off a bit last night.
Fortunately, the final dozens of kilometers were smooth. As the highway entrance to Ink River City appeared, a mix of excitement and trepidation welled up in Feng Man, like nearing home after a long journey.
At the checkpoint entrance, the truck moved slowly. Hearing Feng Man speak up with an odd request, Cheng Lang complied.
“Cheng Lang, can you do me a favor?” Feng Man carefully observed her 1980s hometown—somewhat familiar, somewhat strange. Turning her head, she suddenly thought of something, still uneasy.
The truck pulled over to the roadside. At Feng Man’s request, Cheng Lang found a small shop and called Nine Mountains Village.
The village committee office had the village’s only phone. Cheng Lang exchanged pleasantries with the village head, his gaze meeting Feng Man’s expectant eyes. Finally, he casually said, “Uncle, keep an eye on my place if you have time. If not, ask the neighbor next door to check it out.”
The village head on the other end agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ll watch it for you. Don’t count on your neighbor—Jiang Ping’s been itching to head south too. Last time you left, he asked around, saying if you’re short-handed, ask you. As for the Feng family, it’s a mess…”
“Jiang Ping mentioned it to me; told him to come if he wants.” Cheng Lang smoothly continued. “What’s up with the Feng family?”
“The eldest Feng daughter probably ran off with some wild man. You might not remember her—she’s the one who was marrying Zhao Gang on the day you came back for the wedding feast. Now the Fengs and Zhaos are searching everywhere.”
Wild man…
Cheng Lang pressed his lips together, his features clear and calm. He only lowered his eyes to glance at Feng Man beside him before turning slightly and murmuring, “She ran off? Then the whole Feng family must be busy searching everywhere.”
Cheng Lang showed no particular interest, as if hearing some trivial village gossip and casually responding.
“You bet. Except for Feng Tianbao and Feng Baozhu, that pair of twins still at school, the two adults at home haven’t idled, and even relatives have pitched in to help.” The village head gossiped endlessly, but after a few sentences, his sole listener seemed to lose interest.
Cheng Lang: “Alright, Uncle, thanks. I’ll come see you when I’m free.”
After hanging up, Cheng Lang met Feng Man’s hopeful gaze and said, “I asked around. Your little sister is fine; she’s at school.”
“That’s good.” Feng Man had worried about some mishap; as long as little Baozhu was safe, all was well.
As for herself, she didn’t dare contact them easily—at least not lately. Zhao Gang and her parents hadn’t calmed down yet; she couldn’t expose her whereabouts.
Back in the truck, Feng Man buried her head in sorting her meager luggage, preparing for her new life in Ink River. But the truck didn’t start. She turned to look.
The man’s fingertips tapped lightly on the steering wheel, his expression stern as if he’d made a decision. His thin lips parted slightly: “I’m not you…”
Feng Man blinked, seeing Cheng Lang seemed about to say something important. Her almond eyes sparkled as she gazed at him, straight into his dark pupils. “You’re not what?”
She simply let herself be discovered. Either way, it was death. If she luckily picked up her life, she could divorce and return to her maiden family to live out her days, nibbling melons, sipping tea, and admiring flowers. When bored, she could take in a handsome son-in-law to amuse herself.