Across the fence, Gu Yan, upon hearing these words, seemed to finally break free from a paralysis spell. He jerked his head back so quickly it nearly stirred up a gust of wind.
Meng Jiao could even hear the dull thud of him kicking something in his panic, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps rushing back into the house.
The courtyard instantly returned to silence, leaving only the rustling of leaves in the evening breeze.
Meng Jiao gazed at the empty space beyond the low fence, imagining Gu Yan inside, red-faced and frustrated. She couldn’t hold back a sudden giggle.
However, Meng Jiao thought that given Gu Yan’s temperament, he would probably just sulk in silence.
Thinking this way, his previous inexplicable behavior seemed somewhat understandable.
Without realizing it, most of the resentment in Meng Jiao’s heart dissipated.
She stared at the low fence, her eyes shifting thoughtfully as an idea came to her.
The next morning, before heading to work.
Meng Jiao tucked the two fruit candies she had been unable to give away into her pocket and walked over to the low fence.
She saw Gu Yan in his yard, sharpening a hoe with his head down. He seemed distracted, and his ears still carried a faint blush.
Seeing him like this, Meng Jiao cleared her throat.
Gu Yan immediately stopped sharpening the hoe, his body visibly stiffening, but he didn’t look up.
“Ahem! Ahem!”
Meng Jiao coughed twice more, louder this time.
Gu Yan finally lifted his head slowly, his gaze flickering, avoiding direct eye contact with Meng Jiao.
However, his hair was already much longer than most people’s, covering his eyes. If one didn’t look closely, it was hard to notice.
Meng Jiao found it even more amusing but maintained a casual expression. She pulled her hand out of her pocket, opened it, and revealed two fruit candies wrapped in simple candy papers. She reached across the low fence to offer them.
“Here, for you,” she said in a flat tone, as if she didn’t care at all.
“Last time… and the time before that, thank you for helping me. I never had the chance to give these to you.”
Gu Yan looked at the two colorful candies resting in her pale palm, then lifted his eyes to Meng Jiao.
The girl’s eyes sparkled, devoid of anger or mockery. Instead, Gu Yan sensed a hint of expectation for reconciliation.
He remained silent for a few seconds, then hesitantly reached out and took the two candies from Meng Jiao’s hand.
The boy’s fingertips accidentally brushed against Meng Jiao’s palm, and both of them recoiled as if burned.
Gu Yan clutched the two candies tightly in his hand, his lips moving slightly as he murmured almost inaudibly, “…No need to thank me.”
He hadn’t intended to accept anything from her, but for some reason, seeing Meng Jiao’s smile, he found himself inexplicably taking them.
His voice was so soft it was barely audible, but Meng Jiao heard it.
Her face immediately brightened with a radiant smile, as if lighting up the morning light.
“Well, I’m off to work now!”
Meng Jiao, in high spirits, turned and skipped away, her ponytail swaying behind her.
She didn’t know why she didn’t want to be at odds with Gu Yan.
She just felt that, aside from Xiao Cao, Gu Yan—who barely spoke to her—was one of the few friends she had made in Blue Bay Village.
Gu Yan stood in place, watching her figure disappear before looking down and opening his palm.
The two fruit candies, slightly misshapen from being clutched too tightly, lay there. He unwrapped one and put it in his mouth.
A refreshingly sweet orange flavor instantly spread through her mouth.
So sweet.
…
Life continued in this ordinary way. Meng Jiao’s days consisted of going to work, returning from work, and occasionally stealing glances at that quiet neighbor Gu Yan through the fence.
Since accepting the candy, although Gu Yan still didn’t initiate conversations much, he would at least respond with an “mm” or a nod when Meng Jiao greeted him.
Gu Yan’s father seemed to have gone out for work recently and wasn’t home. Being alone, Gu Yan appeared quite relaxed and comfortable.
However, the village’s tranquility was only superficial.
One day when Meng Jiao returned from work and entered the yard, she immediately sensed something was off.
Meng Jianhua sat on a small stool, his brow tightly furrowed.
“Dad, what’s wrong? You look so grim,” Meng Jiao put down her farming tools and asked casually.
Meng Jianhua looked up, sighed, and hesitated to speak: “It’s nothing, just… ah, those village women have nothing better to do than meddle!”
It turned out someone had tried to set Meng Jianhua up with a potential partner.
The matchmaker was Wang Pozi from the west end of the village, who was quite eloquent.
She approached Meng Jianhua, saying she felt sorry for him having to be both father and mother alone. There was a widow in the village, surnamed Zhao, whose husband passed away the year before last. She had no children, was hardworking, and had decent looks – Wang Pozi thought she would be quite suitable for Meng Jianhua.
“Wang Pozi praised that Widow Zhao as if she were a flower, saying she had wide hips good for bearing children and was quick with her hands and feet, capable of managing a household…”
Meng Jianhua looked embarrassed, finding this even harder to accept than when they were with the Meng family.
“How could I… how could I have the heart to think about such things!”
He had never considered getting married in this lifetime, but never expected the village aunties to be so meddlesome.
Hearing this, Meng Jiao was first stunned, then found it somewhat amusing.
Had her father been here long enough to already catch people’s attention?
“Dad, what do you think about it?”
Meng Jiao sat down beside him and tentatively asked.
“Actually… if she’s really a good person, you could consider it…”
If Meng Jianhua found true love in the village, that would be fine too. After all, he had lived alone in his previous life.
“Consider what!” Meng Jianhua interrupted her, somewhat helpless.
“You can’t judge a person by their appearance. How could I just let anyone into our home?”
Hearing him say this, Meng Jiao didn’t press further.
Feeling warm inside, she linked arms with her father: “Alright, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to. Next time Wang Pozi comes, I’ll help you send her away!”
Seeing how sensible Meng Jiao was, Meng Jianhua sighed.
But somehow, this matter spread throughout the village.
Many people looked at Meng Jianhua with teasing expressions, and occasionally some aunties familiar with Meng Jiao would joke: “Jiaojiao, going to have a new mom soon? Happy about it?”
Meng Jiao consistently deflected with “my dad doesn’t want to look for anyone right now,” but couldn’t help feeling somewhat annoyed inside.
That afternoon, feeling somewhat depressed about this matter, Meng Jiao sat in a daze under the shade of a tree in their yard, unconsciously plucking blades of grass from the ground.
The neighboring yard was quiet – Gu Yan was probably inside.
After a while, Meng Jiao heard slight movements from next door.
She didn’t look up, but could sense someone approaching the fence.
She secretly lifted her eyelids to peek and sure enough, it was Gu Yan.
He was pretending to organize the firewood piled by the fence, but his eyes kept drifting over.
Feeling a stir in her heart, Meng Jiao deliberately let out a heavy sigh…
Sure enough, Gu Yan’s movements paused.
After a few more minutes of silence, Gu Yan finally seemed to gather enough courage. Awkwardly, he spoke through the fence, “Well… that’s just how people in the village talk. Don’t take it to heart.”