Chapter 22

Wen Xiangyi was using a clean spoon to give another chicken wing to Qin Li. “I’m full, so you can have this.”

Qin Li smiled at first, but then questioned, “Why did you give a chicken wing to Song Cheng before me?”

He Nianyao, who was used to joining in, asked why the chicken wing was given to Song Cheng and not to her. But upon seeing Song Cheng’s plain meal, she quietly swallowed her question.

Wen Xiangyi ignored Qin Li’s persistent complaints and glanced at Song Cheng, who had started eating the chicken wings silently. A smile unknowingly curved at the corners of her lips.

Song Cheng was completely unaware of this. She was focused on eating the chicken wings and thought, sometimes, Wen Xiangyi really isn’t that bad!

Teacher Liu was very efficient, distributing the graded papers by the evening study session. Thanks to frequent practice, everyone’s listening scores had slightly improved this week. Compared to Class 4, which didn’t have listening practice, their scores were generally 3 to 4 points higher. Teacher Liu rarely smiled at them.

After Teacher Liu finished explaining the papers, during the break, Duan Jia leaned over her desk and asked, “Song Cheng, how did you practice your listening and speaking skills? Teach me.”

Song Cheng looked up from her messy desk and was met by Wen Xiangyi’s lake-like eyes.

Wen Xiangyi smiled and said, “I also want to practice my pronunciation. Song Cheng, explain it to me in detail.”

Song Cheng didn’t know how to answer.

Because Wen Xiangyi had forgotten everything.

Or rather, all of this hadn’t happened to Wen Xiangyi yet, but had already left its mark on her.

Her speaking skills were taught by Wen Xiangyi.

Wen Xiangyi frequently went abroad and wouldn’t keep her in the country, so Song Cheng had to travel with her everywhere.

Song Cheng’s English was poor; not only was she mute but also deaf, relying entirely on a translator.

Once, on Halloween, Wen Xiangyi was busy with a summit and went out to have fun. She accidentally got separated from her translator, and her bag was snatched by a gang.

She had to rely on international sign language and memory to find her way back. Luckily, she encountered fellow countrymen along the way. By the time she stumbled back to her accommodation, several hours had passed.

She thought no one would know except for the translator. But when she reached the hotel room, Wen Xiangyi was sitting on the sofa facing the door, surrounded by assistants who looked at her as if hope had descended from the sky, all showing relieved expressions.

How did Wen Xiangyi end up here?

Song Cheng didn’t understand. “Did something happen at the summit?”

Wen Xiangyi walked over and looked at her intently. Song Cheng gradually realized, “Were you looking for me?”

She knew she had caused trouble for Wen Xiangyi. “It’s okay; I could have found my way back myself.”

Wen Xiangyi hugged her, and Song Cheng tensed up.

At that time, she had been with Wen Xiangyi for almost a year and still wasn’t used to Wen Xiangyi’s affection in front of others. She dared not look at the expressions of the people behind her and pushed her away. “I’m cold. Don’t get frozen.”

Wen Xiangyi’s arms were draped around her neck. Instead of letting go, she tightened her embrace like a snake.

The assistants left discreetly, and Song Cheng relaxed a bit, feeling Wen Xiangyi’s deep inhalation by her neck. She shifted uncomfortably and then fell into Wen Xiangyi’s hands once again.

Wen Xiangyi gently stroked her forehead and murmured softly, commanding, “Song Cheng, kiss me.”

Alright.

Song Cheng held her waist, skillfully lifted Wen Xiangyi’s chin, and lowered her head—

Song Cheng abruptly shook her head, shaking off the scene that didn’t belong to her high school years.

Not long after that incident, Wen Xiangyi arranged for a teacher to focus on teaching her speaking skills. Whenever they went out together, Wen Xiangyi was her teacher.

In terms of teaching, Song Cheng had to admit that Wen Xiangyi was very meticulous and patient. Even when Song Cheng was too afraid to speak, Wen Xiangyi never forced her, showing an extreme level of gentleness. This attitude allowed Song Cheng to relax around her, gradually overcoming her initial shyness and slowly making progress in learning English.

Aside from that, Wen Xiangyi would also personally correct Song Cheng’s pronunciation. Occasionally, when in a good mood, she would teach Song Cheng some words in other languages, guiding her to pronounce: “Monamour.”

Song Cheng lay on the bed, repeating awkwardly, “Monamour.”

She turned to Wen Xiangyi, “How is this word pronounced? What letters does it consist of?”

Wen Xiangyi, reclining against the headboard, looked very pleased. Her gaze toward Song Cheng was as tender as that of a romantic lover.

Leaning closer to Song Cheng, with the strap of her nightdress slipping off her shoulder, Wen Xiangyi’s voice floated softly in her ear:

“Don’t worry about what it looks like.”

“Song Cheng, what’s important is not what you see, but what you hear.”

—What did she hear at that time?

Song Cheng tried to recall uncertainly.

It seemed she heard Wen Xiangyi’s heartbeat.