Sweet as Honey and Sugar - Chapter 25:
Lin Nai lifted her eyelids lazily, met his gaze, then glanced at He Qingrou.
She seemed unwilling, yet after a pause, she rose, picked up the teapot, and went out.
The staff member who had brought them in was quick-witted. Seeing Lin Nai leave,
he followed suit and considerately closed the door behind them.
Outside, Lin Nai didn’t walk away immediately. She stood by the doorway for a while.
The soundproofing of the old house was poor; Song Tianzhong’s voice was loud and carried easily.
Standing there, she could hear their conversation inside.
She listened to a few lines before finally heading off to refill the water.
Inside, Song Tianzhong glanced toward the door, noticing the shadow had disappeared.
Retracting his gaze, he turned back to pour tea for He Qingrou.
He Qingrou reached out to stop him, taking the teapot herself.
“Let me do it for you.”
His position and age made him her senior; etiquette dictated the younger should pour for the elder.
She mimicked the motions properly, filling his cup and passing it over.
Song Tianzhong took it, satisfied, and sipped. Setting the cup down lightly, he said,
“The tea from H City is exquisite. Fragrant, mellow, unforgettable. I’ve loved it for years
can’t go a day without it.”
“Tea nourishes the body,” He Qingrou said softly.
He smiled, clearly pleased. “It’s a pity good tea is so rare now. Half a year ago,
I went to H City myself, scoured the whole of Linmang Mountain, and couldn’t find the flavor
I remember. In the old days, every household there made tea handcrafted, rich, real.
Now the big companies have taken over the mountain plots, and the tea has lost its soul.”
Linmang Mountain was H City’s most famous tea region. Since around 2006, its land had been
gradually bought up by local companies. The old tea houses that once relied on handcraft
had been replaced by machines.
He Qingrou’s family had always made handcrafted tea. For years, they survived between the cracks.
Only recently, with the trend toward organic and “green” living,
had things begun to look up but barely.
“I grew up in H City,” she said gently. “Next time you visit, try the smaller mountains around
Linmang. The old tea families still live there. Some even set up stalls by the roadside
you’ll find good tea easily.”
“Your family makes tea as well?” Song Tianzhong asked, swirling the leaves with his lid.
“Just a small family business. Enough to live on. Please, call me Xiao He.”
He laughed. “Alright, Xiao He it is. Sounds friendlier. Next time I go,
maybe you can show me around you’d know the area far better than I do.”
She nodded in agreement.
He went quiet for a while, sipping thoughtfully. Then he asked,
“How long have you known Ah Nai?”
“Not even a month.”
To be exact, a little over two weeks. Saying it aloud surprised her it felt like much longer.
They had met half a month ago, and yet now felt deeply familiar.
They say time moves slowly before twenty, but after, it rushes past work, routine,
endless repetition dulls the senses. But somehow, despite her busy days,
she hadn’t felt that rush lately. Maybe it was because someone new had entered her life,
changing its rhythm entirely.
Song Tianzhong’s hand froze briefly on the teacup, then resumed as if nothing had happened.
He brushed away the floating leaves, the lid clinking softly against the rim.
Staring into the pale green tea, he seemed to weigh his words,
then swallowed whatever he’d wanted to say.
Finally, he smiled. “Next time you’re in Beijing, come by with Ah Nai.”
“Of course,” she replied, refilling his cup. “And I’ll bring you some tea from home
freshly picked and roasted in March.”
He brightened instantly. “Wonderful! Let me know when you’re there,
I’ll send someone to fetch you.”
His delight was genuine. The moment she mentioned tea, his demeanor softened completely.
He was easy to talk to, much more approachable than she’d feared. Conversation flowed
effortlessly. He was good at putting people at ease the kind of
older man who always found something kind to say.
When it seemed Lin Nai would soon return, he looked toward the door and suddenly said,
“Ah Nai has a stubborn streak. Once she decides something, no one can talk her out of it.
She’s grown now, has her own mind. I can’t control her like before.
I just want her to live well that’s enough.”
He Qingrou hesitated, unsure what to say.
“You young people,” he continued, “you’re brave. You break rules, defy expectations.
But the road you walk isn’t easy. It’s full of thorns. I can’t drag her back,
but I hope someone will walk beside her, look after her a little.
” He sighed, then looked at her. “What do you think, Xiao He?”
She understood what he was implying, and her heart stuttered. She wanted to clarify
but at that moment, Lin Nai returned with the tea.
Whatever she might have said was lost.
Song Tianzhong asked Lin Nai to help pour, and the three of them chatted another ten minutes
before he saw them to the door.
By the time they returned to their lodgings, it was close to midnight.
The courtyard lights were still on. A few colleagues were huddled together discussing work,
but most had turned in early tomorrow marked the opening of the three-day auto show,
and everyone needed rest.
He Qingrou stepped out of the car, her arms full. She had too much to carry,
so Lin Nai helped, taking most of it.
“Take some with you. I can’t finish it all,” she said as they walked.
“You can store it,” Lin Nai replied. “There’s a fridge in the room.
We’ll be here a few days you’ll finish it eventually.”
“Some of it will spoil. Take a little, or it’ll go to waste.”
Lin Nai said nothing, which He Qingrou took as agreement.
Inside, after setting the things down, she sorted out a portion for Lin Nai to take.
But the woman just sat on the sofa, unmoving.
“You should go,” He Qingrou urged.
Lin Nai didn’t move. Instead, she leaned back, gaze steady and unguarded.
He Qingrou’s pulse skipped. She knew that look.
She knew what had happened the last time Lin Nai stayed.
She walked over, trying to reason with her. “You can’t keep staying here.
Once was enough. If someone sees you—like Jiayi this morning if she finds out it was you…”
“She’ll find out sooner or later,” Lin Nai interrupted, pulling her down onto her lap.
He Qingrou struggled, but Lin Nai held her firm, her tone solemn.
“Not just her. Everyone. The people around you, around me. They’ll all know.”
He Qingrou froze. “What do you mean?”
She’d been bewildered ever since Lin Nai took her to meet Song Tianzhong earlier.
“What do you think I mean?” Lin Nai’s arm wrapped around her waist.
Her lips brushed the edge of He Qingrou’s cheek, not quite a kiss, but warm breath grazed her neck.
“Tell me, what do you think?”
Her heartbeat stumbled, sharp and uneven. She knew what those words meant,
but hearing them almost spoken out loud made her flinch. She wanted to escape,
yet Lin Nai’s arms were inescapable.
The warmth of her breath slid down the curve of her neck, finding its way inside her collar.
He Qingrou felt every tremor, every whisper of air.
“I don’t know,” she murmured, eyes darting away.
Lin Nai didn’t stop. He Qingrou didn’t stop her either.
Both seemed to agree, silently, to leave the words unsaid.
“Your birthday’s in three days,” Lin Nai said lowly, her hand still wandering.
“Any plans?”
He Qingrou braced herself against the sofa, refusing to hold her.
Her ears turned pink. “Just another day. No plans.”
The auto show ended on the second, and her birthday fell the next day.
She couldn’t leave early too much work to do. Birthdays had never meant much to her anyway,
a dinner with friends, a small cake, that was all.
“Then wait for me,” Lin Nai whispered, kissing her cheek, then her ear.
“I’ll come later that night.”
Jiayi would probably throw a small celebration with their coworkers.
Lin Nai wanted her alone only when the night quieted down could she have her.
He Qingrou said nothing. Lin Nai’s hands were cool, her touch startling. He Qingrou shivered.
The silence seemed to annoy Lin Nai, who pressed closer, more insistent,
until He Qingrou bit her lip and nodded.
“You should go,” she said, her voice trembling. “We have work tomorrow.”
“We’ll go together,” Lin Nai murmured. “No one will see.”
“No—”
But Lin Nai didn’t let her finish. Her hand caught
He Qingrou’s and pressed it against her own body.
All words dissolved into touch and breath.
Something dark slipped from Lin Nai’s fingers, falling soundlessly to the floor.
She was practiced, deliberate, and merciless in the way she kindled the fire beneath
He Qingrou’s skin.
Then came the question low, husky, unashamed.
“Do you want me?”
The difference between twenty-three and twenty-eight is one of candor.
One speaks boldly; the other holds back. Between them lies a gulf called restraint.
He Qingrou could never bring herself to say words so bare, so full of desire.
Yet hearing them made her heart tremble all the same.