“Sorry, come in…”
Lu Nan released the embrace and stepped aside.
Song Wenwei carefully glanced at her eyes as she turned her head—there wasn’t a trace of redness. She couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.
Looking at the nearly perfect meal in front of her, with its green and red ingredients paired so well, Lu Nan suddenly felt a pang in her heart.
“Thank you.”
“What are you talking about? I came to thank you, and now you’re thanking me instead.”
Song Wenwei frowned. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a bottle of soda she’d bought, placing it on the table.
Lu Nan wasn’t thanking her for the food. Whatever—better not to cause her any trouble.
Seeing the slightly puffed-up expression on the face before her, Lu Nan gave an apologetic smile but said nothing.
“Oh, right—this one, try this.”
Song Wenwei pulled another lunchbox from the bag.
Lu Nan chewed her food, her cheeks bulging as she mumbled unclearly, “Mm? Why didn’t you bring it out together?”
“It got cold…” Song Wenwei looked a bit embarrassed.
Bringing food for someone and letting it go cold—what an awkward situation.
She opened the lid and pushed it toward Lu Nan. The unique aroma of the food immediately filled the room, wafting with a fragrance that was utterly intoxicating.
“Was it the cold wind outside?” Lu Nan said, then immediately dismissed her own guess. “How long were you waiting out there?”
It made sense—Song Wenwei’s home was just two streets away. Even biking over wouldn’t make it this cold, and walking should’ve kept it warm.
Song Wenwei pressed her lips together and said nothing.
Was she supposed to admit she hadn’t dared come in because Lu Nan was arguing with that auntie? No way—that would be too embarrassing.
“I went for a walk around outside before coming over,” Song Wenwei changed the subject. “How’s your injury?”
“This?” Lu Nan set down her chopsticks, shrugged off the beige jacket she was wearing, and exposed one arm, holding it up to Song Wenwei. “It’s pretty much healed. I got the stitches removed yesterday—it’ll be off in just a few days.”
The arm was still wrapped in gauze to prevent infection; it’d come off in a few more days. For Lu Nan, it was no longer an issue. It had ached faintly before, but now even that felt tolerable.
“Why didn’t you call me to go with you for the stitch removal? I was going to cover the medical fees. You got hurt blocking that knife for me—if you hadn’t pushed me, it would’ve landed solidly on me.”
Lu Nan knew full well that Song Wenwei wouldn’t have withstood that knife. With her delicate skin, it could’ve been fatal.
Besides, the attacker had gotten involved because of her in the first place. Ultimately, Lu Nan was responsible for her safety.
She deliberately skirted the topic, smiling lightly. “It was too late yesterday—unsafe. And no need for medical fees; the school already covered it.”
The guidance director had found Lu Nan and explained that the school included coverage for accidents, so she didn’t need to pay out of pocket. She’d even warmly exchanged contact info and assured Lu Nan she’d fight for her on any other matters.
Song Wenwei sighed, her words blocked.
“Does it still hurt?” Song Wenwei pointed at the bulky wrapped spot—it looked so obtrusive no matter how she saw it.
“No feeling at all…”
“Really?”
“Really.” To prove she wasn’t lying, Lu Nan flailed her limbs wildly, making Song Wenwei’s heart skip in fright.
She got it now—Lu Nan truly wasn’t in pain. It was the watcher who felt the hurt.
Lu Nan tidied up the dishes and dropped them into the sink to wash. Song Wenwei took the chance to wander the living room. She first checked out the plump succulents and money tree on the balcony.
As she passed the kitchen, she glanced into the bedroom—Lu Nan never really closed the door, so the layout was clear.
A full-length mirror and a dark brown wardrobe, plus stacks of books piled sky-high.
She spotted something off right away and asked in confusion, “Hey, where’s your bed? Are you sleeping on the floor?!”
Lu Nan touched her head, surprised that Song Wenwei had noticed so quickly. She looked a bit embarrassed.
“I sold it, but I bought a new one—it hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Why sell it suddenly? Was it broken?”
Lu Nan’s expression shifted oddly, and Song Wenwei noticed immediately.
She didn’t want to say, so Song Wenwei didn’t press. People needed boundaries—asking too much wasn’t good.
Lu Nan nodded, as if steeling herself, and spoke up—
“Yeah, the bed was a bit short. Uncomfortable to sleep on.”
She gestured with her hands to show the bed’s height, which didn’t even reach her full stature. Song Wenwei found it an eyesore. That was clearly a child’s bed—why was even the bed half-sized?
She was only replacing it now because she finally had the money for a proper, comfortable big bed.
Song Wenwei lowered her head, her heart a tangle of emotions.
How much hardship had Lu Nan endured growing up…
After a long moment, she said, “Lu Nan, let’s both do well.”
“Yeah, we will.”
Lu Nan smiled back.
Her smile was infectious—anyone who saw it couldn’t help but smile along. Song Wenwei was no exception, feeling like a warm spring breeze in that moment.
————
Song Wenwei passed by that bookstore again. Unlike the previous days, today there was someone specifically writing calligraphy there.
A long line had formed outside the bookstore, all waiting for calligraphy.
By the time it was Song Wenwei’s turn, almost everyone had gone, and the streetlights had come on.
The stall was set up at the bookstore entrance. The calligrapher was an elderly man with a fluffy white beard, his smile kindly.
The old man glanced at the table and looked up. “What would you like written? Pick a sheet of paper.”
Song Wenwei looked down. The table held rice papers and stationery in various patterns—some sprinkled with gold ink, others painted with landscapes or flowers and birds.
She chose a blue sheet with golden patterns.
“Grandpa, can I get two sheets?”
The old man nodded without looking up.
“Grandpa, please write ‘All Things Go Smoothly’ and ‘Peace and Joy’ for me.” Song Wenwei glanced at the inks, paused, then added, “Can you use gold ink?”
The grandpa nodded with a smile. He picked up the brush, and the tip danced like a dragon, golden ink flowing across the paper.
Soon, he handed the finished sheets to her.
Song Wenwei gazed at the stationery in her hands, marveling at the endless charm of calligraphy—it was pleasing just to look at.
She couldn’t help praising, “Wow, Grandpa, your handwriting is beautiful.”
The grandpa waved it off with a beaming smile, stroking his beard. “You’re a sweet-talking girl.”
“It’s the truth! Grandpa, can you write Spring Festival couplets? I’d like to get some now to post during New Year.”
“Of course, but I don’t have paper that big here right now. Come back in a few days, and I’ll bring some.”
“Great.”
Seeing her enthusiasm, the old man flipped open a wedding book for Song Wenwei to see—it resembled the memorials emperors approved in ancient costume dramas.
Red base with golden blessings written on it.
A cold evening wind blew up, and the grandpa steadied his stall, waving at Song Wenwei.
“The wind’s strong at night, little miss—don’t catch a cold.”
Song Wenwei waved goodbye and turned into the intersection. Under the streetlight, she pulled the stationery from her bag again.
Her bag held few things. In the lamplight, she quietly gazed at the sheets—the gold gleamed brightly. She hadn’t noticed earlier, but now she saw the unique watermark on the paper.
Song Wenwei lowered her eyes, silently reciting the four characters.
All Things Go Smoothly.
She wished for her dad and Lu Nan to live from here on out, year after year, with all things going smoothly—safe, peaceful, carefree.
