Li Hanting looked down at her. She seemed to have mustered her courage, yet she trusted him completely, with all her heart.
His heart softened. He lowered his head and gently kissed her cheek, kissed the slightly damp corners of her eyes, kissed her trembling lips.
“Mm…” Yin Li gradually felt her vision blur, her body going completely limp.
Li Hanting turned over, gently laid her down on the bed, and then covered her body with his own.
He had always been tall and strong, but Yin Li had never felt it this close before. At first, it was overwhelming—because she was completely enveloped by him, even the lamplight seemed blocked out.
But after a moment, she felt incredibly safe.
However, soon her thoughts were no longer her own. As if sensing her distraction, Li Hanting cupped her face and stole her breath.
Yin Li quickly grew dizzy, and what happened next was completely beyond her control.
All she knew was that he took her hand and guided it—from his neck to his chest to his waist, and then further down.
“Li Li, unwrap it the way you unwrap your presents.”
Every time he gave her a gift, she would open the packaging eagerly or casually.
Li Hanting wanted to be treated like that by her.
His voice was seductive, and Yin Li’s hand came to rest on the waistband of his pants.
“Maybe I shouldn’t…” As soon as Yin Li spoke, she almost startled herself—was that really her voice?
Li Hanting propped himself up, looking down at her openly, admiring her dazed, flushed face.
“Li Li, you can. From now on, Li Hanting is yours.”
Yin Li felt like she could barely hear his voice anymore. She was too dazed.
“Mm…”
A night of intimacy.
·
The fan blew gently. Yin Li furrowed her brows, turned over, paused for a moment, and then opened her eyes.
Her body had been cleaned up, so she felt dry and fresh—just a slight unusual sensation, but no real discomfort.
It had hurt a bit yesterday, and she had thought it would be very unpleasant.
Yin Li covered her head with the blanket. She hadn’t expected Li Hanting to be so gentle, so patient. And that matter… it was just too embarrassing.
Li Hanting wasn’t in bed. From the sounds outside, it seemed he was doing something in the yard.
Yin Li quickly got up. If she stayed in bed any longer, she wouldn’t want to get up at all.
She walked over to the wardrobe. There weren’t many clothes inside, but they were all new—likely prepared by Li Hanting.
She picked out a dark blue long skirt and a white blouse, resembling a schoolgirl’s uniform. Yin Li, feeling a bit vain, admired herself in the mirror, then carefully brushed her hair.
She also quite liked the dressing table next to it. After she washed up, she would take her time putting herself together.
Just as she finished tying up her hair, Li Hanting opened the door and came in. “You’re up? Did you sleep well?”
Yin Li glared at him through the mirror, but she really had slept very well. “Mm… I’m hungry…”
“It’s ready. Come eat when you’re done,” Li Hanting said, looking at her in the mirror. “Beautiful.”
Yin Li happily followed him to breakfast. She could smell the fragrance before she even entered the kitchen.
The millet porridge was bubbling with fine bubbles, the dates swollen, revealing their honey-colored flesh.
Li Hanting took a square of brown sugar brick and gently scraped it across the surface of the porridge, the sugar color blooming into the liquid.
“I want something savory.” Yin Li wasn’t fond of sweet breakfasts.
Li Hanting placed the bowl by her hand. “Be good. It replenishes your blood. You should have some these days.”
Yin Li’s face flushed again. What was this guy talking about?
The red dates had been stewed until soft and melted on her tongue with a gentle press. The brown sugar wasn’t too sweet, and Yin Li could tolerate it, finishing just one small bowl.
There were also toasted slices of mantou, sprinkled with salt, which gave a satisfying crunch when bitten into.
The pickled radish strips were crisp, with a sour-sweet flavor and a hint of spiciness.
“I’m done.” Yin Li couldn’t eat much in the morning.
Li Hanting spooned some plain congee into her bowl. “Have an egg too.”
She hadn’t wanted to eat more, but it was a poached egg—the white encasing a soft yolk, resting on the congee. She poked it with the tip of her chopsticks, and the yolk seeped into the porridge.
Yin Li lost her resolve and sat back down. “I’m going to gain weight like this.”
“No, you won’t.”
After eating, Yin Li thought that being married was different from before. Sleeping in was one thing, but she should probably do at least some housework.
“I’ll wash the dishes.”
“Don’t. Didn’t you say you wanted to try those wide headbands? They’re in the dressing table drawer.” Li Hanting quickly stopped her. This girl—her own father had never made her do chores in all those years at home, so how could he bear to?
Yin Li wasn’t one to volunteer for work. She felt perfectly at ease going inside to doll herself up.
“Ready? Let’s go.” In the autumn morning, the sun wasn’t too harsh.
Yin Li climbed into his old Dongfeng 140 truck. The cab was clean, with no extra clutter, and carried a faint scent of osmanthus.
Why did she have such a good impression of Li Hanting? Because even though he looked rough and intimidating, he was actually very tidy.
She remembered riding in other people’s cars before—they always smelled of gasoline, leather, and unpleasant cigarette smoke.
But Li Hanting kept everything clean: his home, himself, and his vehicle.
Her father had said that a man who knows how to keep himself clean makes life together much less troublesome.
So many married couples see their feelings worn away by socks tossed carelessly on the floor, smoking as if no one else is there, and dishes left unwashed for days.
Li Hanting gripped the oversized steering wheel, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his rolled-up sleeves, his movements casually skillful.
They drove toward the city center and stopped near the cinema.
There were far more people here than around the textile mill. Li Hanting got out, walked around to the other side, and practically lifted Yin Li down.
“Are we setting up here?” This was an open space where a few people had already spread out plastic sheets and were displaying all kinds of goods for sale.
Why had Yin Li called him a speculative profiteer before?
Because he sourced these things from out of town, and they could be bought without ration coupons. For convenience, some people were willing to pay a premium—though of course, many others had no idea about the markup.
Because everything he had was stuff not available locally.
“Mm, put your hat on.” Li Hanting handed her a nice sun hat, not wanting her to feel the glare.
He then turned and pulled back the tarp on the truck. Inside weren’t the usual goods from state-run department stores.
There were folding umbrellas printed with giant peonies, brightly colored fuzzy scarves that almost hurt the eyes, crisp-textured shirts, hiking backpacks stamped with foreign letters, and even more oddly shaped digital watches and other small electronics.
“So many good things.”
Seeing her curiosity, Li Hanting explained as he set things out: “I went to Guang City last month and got stock from Gao Di Street and Nan Hu Road there. We’ll go together next time.”
“Really?” Unfortunately, she would be starting school soon, but Yin Li was still delighted. She had never been outside An Feng before.
Li Hanting walked over, carrying two boxes of goods with both hands. “Really. I’m a bit thirsty—can you give me some water?”
Seeing that his hands were full unloading and arranging the goods and that he didn’t want her to help, Yin Li obediently fetched the water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and brought it to his mouth for him to drink.
Li Hanting bent down to accommodate her, but his gaze swept across the street.