Chapter 24.1

In the morning, Su Ting was woken up by kisses.

It was already close to eight o’clock. Outside, the world was lively, filled with the noise of children shouting and the exasperated cries of mothers driven to the edge.

Amidst the commotion, Su Ting felt the delicate kisses of He Dongchuan and tasted a hint of tenderness. Tilting her head back, she responded to his kiss.

However, as the kiss grew more passionate and the warmth between them seemed to be leading toward something more, Su Ting had to stop He Dongchuan’s wandering hands. “No… I need to get up.”

He Dongchuan halted his movements, resting his forehead against her neck. His warm breath fell on her collarbone, tickling her.

Su Ting couldn’t help but lift her shoulder slightly. “He Dongchuan.”

He Dongchuan responded with a soft hum. Tilting his head back, he lay on the pillow, gazing at Su Ting. “Hungry?”

“A little.” Su Ting admitted as she sat up, reaching for the clothes that had been tossed to the foot of the bed the night before.

However, when she bent down, a sharp pull made her wince, letting out a small hiss. He Dongchuan immediately sat up as well, reaching past her hand to grab the clothes. “Uncomfortable?”

Su Ting turned to glare at him without answering, silently pulling her shirt over her head.

He Dongchuan placed his hand on her slender waist and asked: “Want me to give you a massage?”

“No!” Su Ting refused outright. She didn’t believe for a second that his so-called massage would be just that.

After putting on her top, Su Ting hesitated when she reached for her underwear. Even though they had done everything the night before, facing He Dongchuan completely bare in the light of day still made her feel a bit embarrassed.

After a brief moment of hesitation, she turned her head and asked: “Can you… turn around?”

“Hm?” He Dongchuan raised an eyebrow.

“Hurry up.” Su Ting urged, even reaching out to push his shoulder.

He Dongchuan turned his head to look at the wardrobe. “Like this?”

“Yes. Stay like that.”

Su Ting lifted the blanket and got out of bed. As she bent down to put on her underwear, the movement pulled at her sore spots, making her take several sharp breaths.

He Dongchuan heard the sound and instinctively turned his head while opening his mouth to ask what was wrong. But the moment he saw Su Ting’s current state, he decisively chose silence. Without a word, he turned his head back, pretending he had seen nothing.  

Su Ting kept her head down as she slipped on her underwear, then put on a pair of loose-fitting pants. Once she straightened up, she let out a deep breath, picked up her toothbrush and toothpaste, and headed to freshen up.  

On her way out, she glanced at the room next door. He Yan had already left for school. The bedroom was empty, the bed unmade, with the blankets piled up in a heap—he still hadn’t learned how to fold them properly.  

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, Su Ting returned to the master bedroom. By then, He Dongchuan was already up, wearing a military shirt over the same military trousers from last night. The belt around his waist gave him a sharp, disciplined look.  

“You’re done washing up?”  

“Mm.”  

“Then I’ll go wash.” He Dongchuan said and walked out.  

He was quick—within two or three minutes, he was back, carrying an enamel cup and his toothbrush. Casually, he placed them on the dressing table as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  

Through the mirror, Su Ting met his gaze. He cleared his throat and said: “I’ve moved in. My toothbrush and cup should obviously be here.”  

Su Ting said nothing, lowering her eyes as she continued braiding her hair.  

Standing behind her, He Dongchuan watched for a moment before his hand, unable to resist, reached out to grab the end of her freshly braided hair and gave it a little shake.  

“What are you doing?” Su Ting asked.  

“I’m checking if your braid is tight enough.” He Dongchuan replied.  

Su Ting: “…”  

She really couldn’t understand him sometimes.  

—  

On the second day of the holiday, while Su Ting was still able to sleep in, Wang Jingfang, in the capital, was already on a bus heading to work at the publishing house.  

Wang Jingfang was an editor at Comic Book Daily. She had been in the industry for eight years. Her job wasn’t exactly exhausting, but it wasn’t easy either.  

Every morning at 6:30, she got up to wash up, prepared breakfast for her husband and child, then tidied up the house after eating. By 7:50, she would leave home on her bicycle, arriving at the publishing house around 8:20.  

Once in the office, she never jumped straight into work. First, she would make herself a cup of tea, then take a trip to the restroom. Because once she started working, she wouldn’t get up from her chair all morning, let alone have time for personal matters.

After returning from the restroom, Wang Jingfang began thinking about the layout for the upcoming issue of the Comic Book Daily. The manuscripts had already been finalized before the holiday, and what remained was the layout and printing work.  

It didn’t seem like much work at first glance, but it was quite tedious and time-consuming. There were also several meetings to attend.  

That morning, the editor-in-chief had called Wang Jingfang to a meeting. By the time she returned, it was already 11 o’clock, leaving only an hour before the morning shift ended. She figured it would be inconvenient to start something now, so she decided to sit down and go through some submissions.  

Comic Book Daily was currently the largest circulated comic magazine in the country, with a large readership. Naturally, there were plenty of submissions. Every day, the postman delivered submissions in woven bags on his three-wheeled bike.  

Although the publishing house had many editors, after distributing the work, each editor received hundreds of submissions daily.  

Clearly, the editors couldn’t go through all those hundreds of letters in one day, even though some newly hired intern editors helped with the workload. The amount of work was still overwhelming.  

As a result, Wang Jingfang’s right side was piled high with hundreds of submissions. About twenty of them had already been screened by the intern editors and passed on to her for review, to decide if they could be published. The remaining ones had been sent to her during her free time, but after glancing at a few, she’d gotten busy and forgotten about them.  

Wang Jingfang started with the ones the interns had recommended. However, an hour passed, and she hadn’t found a single one she was fully satisfied with.  

The truth was, these submissions weren’t bad. If it were a second-tier publishing house, they would likely be chosen. But in Wang Jingfang’s eyes, either the illustrations weren’t good enough or the stories fell short—there was always something lacking.  

Although there were two submissions that seemed decent with fewer obvious shortcomings, she still wanted to take another look, so she set them aside, leaving the rest for the intern editor to send back.  

When she returned to the publishing house in the afternoon, it was more meetings, and by the time she finished, it was already past four. Wang Jingfang continued reviewing the manuscripts that hadn’t been opened yet.  

Looking at these manuscripts was even more tedious. The ones already filtered by the interns, even if the illustrations or stories weren’t perfect, at least weren’t terrible. The ones that hadn’t been opened yet were a different story—whether in drawing or storytelling, their quality varied greatly.  

But Wang Jingfang didn’t dare leave the task of reviewing all the submissions to the interns. Sometimes, they missed good stories. She also enjoyed the challenge of finding gems among the mixed-quality submissions.  

However, today she wasn’t so lucky. After over an hour of reviewing, she hadn’t found anything that caught her eye.  

She picked up her water cup and took a big sip of tea. After swallowing, she grabbed the remaining pile of manuscripts, intending to hand them over to the intern editor and ask him to replace them with some of the new submissions for the day.  

She desperately needed a change of pace.  

As she stood up, she absentmindedly glanced down and saw the address on the top manuscript.  

Naval Base Family Compound?  

Then she noticed that this particular letter was unusually thick.

The stories published in each issue of Comic Book were usually between two to three pages long, typically featuring twenty to forty illustrations. The paper was usually in a 16K size, and a larger envelope could be used to mail it out without needing to fold the pages. The envelope was no thicker than the wall of an enamel cup.

However, this particular envelope was puffed up. The manuscript inside was definitely not lacking—it probably contained seventy to eighty, or even a hundred illustrations.

In an instant, Wang Jingfang changed her mind, sat down, and opened the envelope.

Taking out the manuscript, the first thing that caught her eye was the large title “Chutao Yuan Village” in bold characters.

Wang Jingfang found this person quite interesting. Generally, those who submitted manuscripts would send in their works along with their personal information. However, this person had sent a manuscript without any personal details, but instead, it looked like the cover of a published comic book.

The four characters looked rather unique. They had the appearance of words but also seemed somewhat like illustrations, giving off a strong artistic vibe.

In the bottom right corner of the cover, there was a line of text: “Su Ting / A Durian.”

Wang Jingfang understood “Su Ting.” which was probably the author’s name. She also knew that durian was a type of southern fruit. However, seeing it here puzzled her. It surely couldn’t be the author’s pen name, could it?

It seemed too strange.

As Wang Jingfang thought this, she flipped open the cover and lowered her head to look at the content.

The first thing she noticed about the illustrations was the mature style; the drawings were very detailed, showing the artist’s deep skill in painting. The writing, too, was smooth, but given the limited length, the first image hadn’t developed much, and it seemed somewhat dull.

Wang Jingfang guessed that the original author had studied fine arts, which explained their strong technical skills. However, the storytelling ability seemed average, and the personal style wasn’t particularly prominent. But it was still readable, so she turned to the second and third pages.

By the fourth page, Wang Jingfang had figured out what kind of story this was.

The protagonist of the story was named Li Maochang, a reporter for a geography magazine. One time, during a business trip to a remote area, he got lost and wandered into a deep mountain that was rumored to be inhabited by wild men.

After three days and nights of exhausting travel, with no food or water, Li Maochang, utterly fatigued, found a relatively clean place and prepared to wait for death.

On the brink of death, Li Maochang saw a young woman. She spoke to him, but before he could fully hear her, he fainted.

He thought the woman was just a hallucination in his final moments. But when he woke up, he found himself in a strange bedroom. He wasn’t sure whether he had been saved or had ended up in the underworld.

Just as she was feeling confused, the door was pushed open from the outside, and Li Maochang saw the young woman he had seen before losing consciousness.

However, the girl was dressed a bit unusually, wearing an old-style double-breasted coat.

When Li Maochang asked where the nearest commune was, the girl looked completely bewildered. After some questioning, he learned that the girl had never been outside and had never seen anyone from beyond the mountains in her twenty years of life.

When Li Maochang met the girl’s father, the first question the man asked was: “What’s the outside world like now? Is there still war?”

…