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墨書 Inktalez
Lin Xiao remained still, the familiar scent enveloping her. How many nights had she woken from dreams, imagining that he had never left? Now, he was truly back.
Li Hao thought Lin Xiao would struggle, but to his surprise, she melted into his embrace. He held her quietly for a moment; it felt wonderful, as if the emptiness inside him was being filled, yet he craved more.
He turned her towards him, wanting to kiss her, only to find Lin Xiao's face streaked with tears.
"Lin Xiao," he exclaimed in alarm. "If you don't want this, I won't force you. Please don't cry." With a hint of regret, he released her.
But Lin Xiao wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, crying even harder. Li Hao gently patted her back, understanding that she felt wronged.
All the pent-up frustration and emotions she had nowhere to express poured out in her tears, along with endless longing. In a mischievous moment at the end of her crying fit, she wiped her tears and snot all over Li Hao's shirt before looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.
Li Hao couldn't help but chuckle despite the situation; she was becoming more childlike by the moment. He leaned down and kissed her.
Their brief separation felt like a long time apart; they had missed each other dearly.
Lin Xiao craved Li Hao so much that soon she was calling out his name through her sobs.
"You jerk!" she wailed.
Li Hao felt both anger and heartache for her; he couldn't let go of her. This feeling was so nostalgic.
Lin Xiao's mind spun as she realized what foolishness had just occurred, her face turning beet red. "You pervert!"
Li Hao leaned over her and whispered a few words in her ear.
Lin Xiao's blush deepened even further.
At this point, a thousand words were omitted.
The two of them simultaneously let out satisfied sounds.
Lin Xiao cried out several times, forgetting that the old house had poor sound insulation.
Someone shouted from downstairs, "What are you two doing making such a racket in the middle of the night?"
Embarrassed, Lin Xiao urged Li Hao to quiet down.
It was already one in the morning.
On Thursday night, Li Hao held Lin Xiao in his arms. Tomorrow night, my mom has invited us to dinner. After that, we’ll head back to Beijing together.
Lin Xiao stiffened for a moment; she was scared. They had just gotten back together, and she was afraid of any unforeseen circumstances.
You have to understand that you’re marrying me; it has nothing to do with them, Li Hao said, gently stroking Lin Xiao's hand.
You haven’t even proposed; who said yes to marrying you? Lin Xiao felt her heart flutter at the mention of the word "marry."
Li Hao lifted the blanket and knelt on the bed. Lin Xiao, will you marry me?
Seeing his serious expression, Lin Xiao couldn’t help but tease him a little.
Li Hao was both annoyed and amused; he was becoming more reckless by the day. He leaned over her and tickled her, and they ended up in a playful scuffle.
Someone shouted from downstairs, telling them to stop making noise in the middle of the night.
The two quickly stopped, and Li Hao pulled Lin Xiao into his arms again. Tomorrow night after work, we’ll go together. My mom can be a bit serious, but she’s a good person.
Lin Xiao still felt nervous. Should I buy her a gift? What should I get?
Li Hao reassured her that it wasn’t necessary; his mom didn’t lack for anything.
On Friday afternoon, Lin Xiao took half a day off and rushed back before Li Hao's training ended.
Li Hao handed Lin Xiao a small box about the size of his palm. This is a gift I prepared for you; you can give it to my mom when the time comes.
Can I open it? After getting his approval, Lin Xiao opened it to find a diamond-studded hairpin—clearly an expensive one. I also prepared a gift this afternoon.
Lin Xiao took out a book wrapped in brown paper. This is Qian Lao’s manuscript of "National History Outline." I wonder if Professor Sun will like it?
What did you say? Li Hao hadn’t expected her to get something like this. Is it really the manuscript?
I bought this book from the retired Old Director. When the museum expanded its collection years ago, many scholars donated artifacts. At that time, Qian Lao was still alive, and this item wasn’t displayed in the museum.
The Old Director was still a junior staff member back then; he thought it was a shame to leave it in storage and bought it for two dollars. He mentioned this book casually during one of our conversations.
How much did you buy it for? Li Hao thought if this was indeed the manuscript, it would be worth a fortune—priceless.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, Lin Xiao had brought along ten thousand yuan, but she was reluctant to spend more than a few hundred.
Old Director, whose children had all gone abroad, planned to donate everything to the country after his death. Meeting Lin Xiao felt like fate, so he only asked for two yuan.
Li Hao was worried that the manuscript might be fake. Before entering the hotel, he unwrapped the brown paper and was astonished to find it was indeed an authentic manuscript—a truly great gift.
"You really are a fool with good fortune," Li Hao admired his girlfriend for managing to get such a treasure.
Most people who genuinely collect these manuscripts possess a certain literary grace; their joy is priceless, making such manuscripts rare in circulation. They are typically appreciated only among scholars and poets.
Lin Xiao disagreed, saying, "The leader is right; I'm the biggest fool for choosing you, who bullies me every day."
Li Hao looked at her and smiled happily. It seemed that the month of waiting wasn’t so bad after all. At least Lin Xiao didn’t seem to mind him as much.
As the two of them shared laughter in the car, they encountered Professor Sun right at the hotel entrance.
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