Chapter Forty-Three: The Wind Is Freedom

Cheng Jiu’s friend’s family had a distant relation to the Xin family, so he knew more about their circumstances. With just a little inquiry, he learned about Xin Gan’s years of studying abroad. He had imagined Xin Gan as a pampered heiress raised in luxury, perhaps with a few temperamental quirks, but when he finally met her, she was nothing like he had pictured. She only appeared aloof because of her cool, refined features, which made her seem difficult to approach—though it was merely an impression.

After spending some time with her, he realized Xin Gan kept herself hidden behind a well-guarded shell, protecting herself from anyone trying to get close. His elders often said Xin Gan was gentle and gracious, obedient and clever, outstanding in both character and academics since childhood, and fiercely independent—a perfect candidate for marriage. Cheng Jiu wanted to ask if they were blinded by something, for Xin Gan was hardly gentle or gracious; she was, in fact, quite vindictive.

He hadn’t paid much attention to her at first. The day she arrived in Beiyu, it wasn’t he who went to receive her. Xin Gan, feeling reluctant, naturally showed him no warmth.

After a nap, she awoke to find the car parked by the roadside. In her view were grazing cattle and sheep, a sky as blue as the sea, and an endless horizon, with eagles circling overhead. Cheng Jiu sat on a stone nearby, smoking, oblivious to the ash falling from his fingertips, his back turned toward her as he gazed into the distance.

The scenery here was entirely different from Yongcheng. For hundreds of kilometers, there were no tall buildings, no car exhaust—only wild plains and mountains. The sky was pure blue, the clouds were white, even the wind seemed unrestrained, so free it felt as if one’s soul had been cleansed.

Xiao Shi wasn’t around; Xin Gan didn’t see him.

She stepped out of the car, standing a few meters away from Cheng Jiu, and called, “Cheng Jiu.”

The wind swept past, lifting the long hair by her cheek.

Cheng Jiu turned around and saw her squinting at him. He stood up and faced her, saying nothing.

Xin Gan asked, “Where’s Xiao Shi? Why are we parked here? Have we arrived?”

Cheng Jiu remained silent, his deep eyes locked onto her.

His eyes were as blue as the sky—if one stared too long, it was hard not to be captivated. She quickly looked away and repeated her question.

“Xiao Shi had a stomachache; he’s taking care of it somewhere.”

Xin Gan finally responded, then turned to head back to the car.

Cheng Jiu called out to her, just as she had called him.

“Xin Gan, you don’t dare look at me.”

It was an undeniable statement.

Xin Gan paused, her voice airy and light, “That’s not true.”

“Is it?” he replied.

Xin Gan could hear the laughter in his voice, gentle and fleeting, quickly dispersed by the wind.

Seeing she was about to get in the car, Cheng Jiu said, “Xiao Shi won’t be back for a while. You get carsick, don’t you? Stay out here and get some fresh air.”

Xin Gan leaned against the car, letting the breeze wash over her. Soon, she took out a bottle of mineral water, sipping it slowly, occasionally looking up at the eagles gliding low in the sky. In truth, she was afraid of such sharp-beaked creatures, but as long as they kept their distance, she was fine watching them from afar.

Cheng Jiu asked, “Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” she replied, mostly because her stomach felt uneasy.

Cheng Jiu rummaged in the car for a moment and handed her a small packet of candies. “Have some. The bitterness in your mouth will ease with a bit of sugar.”

Xin Gan hesitated for a second, then reached out to take it. “Thank you.”

Beneath the lovely, delicate wrapping was a pink candy. She wondered why he had such things in his car—did a grown man eat sweets? Among all the boys she knew, none liked candy, so Cheng Jiu must have prepared them for her.

Xiao Shi soon returned, clutching his stomach. “Ninth Brother, I couldn’t find a place, took a bit of time.”

Cheng Jiu asked, “Feeling better?”

“Much better. After finishing up, I’m fine.”

Cheng Jiu opened the car door. “Get in. We need to reach the next town before dark.”

The SUV needed refueling. Cheng Jiu found a gas station and filled up with three hundred yuan’s worth of gas. Afterward, they found a nearby restaurant and ate, finally escaping endless bowls of noodles, much to Xiao Shi’s delight.

Throughout the journey, Xin Gan had been eating noodles. She didn’t like them and never complained; she forced herself to eat, and after Cheng Jiu had scolded her for wasting food, she dared not voice any opinion. In fact, after just a few bites, she lost her appetite—not hungry, but mostly, she simply didn’t want any more noodles.

A while later, Cheng Jiu brought her a bowl of soup. “If you can’t eat the noodles, drink some soup. There’s pork ribs and vegetables in it. If you don’t eat, you’ll have nothing to throw up but stomach acid, which isn’t good for your intestines.”

Xin Gan silently took the bowl.