When The Snow Falls In Autumn Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Ling Xueqing’s fingertips stayed on the surface of the cardigan’s wool for longer than the length required to pick up an ordinary item.The fine fuzz brushes over the fingertips, bringing soft resistance.She seemed to be able to distinguish the fine dust that belonged to the old library paper, the temperature on the pillow next to the autumn night last night, and perhaps a trace of an almost stubborn flatness left by careful folding.The clothes were light and heavy in her palm.

She didn’t immediately put it into the canvas bag next to her, but just laid it flat on her knees.The light gray forms a soft rectangle on the dark trousers, and the edges are plated with a very light gold edge by the morning light.She lowered her eyes and focused on it, as if she were reading a line of obscure text that took time to decipher.

Ye Qiulan looked at her.Look at her lowered eyelashes, which are almost transparent when illuminated by the light, and look at her still hands on her cardigan.The air is filled with the dry smell of old books and paper, the slightly bitter vapor left by green tea, and the slightly green plant smell brought in by the wind from the camphor trees.These familiar smells are now mixed with a new, tense silence.It comes from the cardigan spread on Ling Xueqing’s lap, and from all the unspoken undercurrents behind the exchanges between the two.

Ye Qiulan’s fingers unconsciously tightened the pages of the book spread out on his knees, and the paper made a slight crisp sound.She wanted to look away, but she felt like she was being pinned.She was waiting for Ling Xueqing’s next move or word.Even if it’s just an ordinary action of putting away clothes.

But Ling Xueqing didn’t move.Her eyes finally lifted from her cardigan, crossed the table, and landed on Ye Qiulan’s face.It’s not a direct gaze, but more like a slow, weighty cruise, from her slightly pursed lips, to her somewhat dodgy eyes, to her unconsciously stretched shoulder lines.

“Is it cold?” Ling Xueqing suddenly asked.The voice was lower than before, and heavy, as if soaked in morning dew.

Ye Qiulan was stunned for a moment, and then realized that his shoulders had indeed shrunk unconsciously because of his nervousness.She relaxed hastily and shook her head.”It’s not cold.” His voice was dry.

Ling Xueqing didn’t speak, just looked at her.The gaze was calm, but seemed to carry some invisible pressure. Ye Qiulan could almost hear the sound of his own blood rushing through his eardrums.Then, Ling Xueqing’s eyes moved down and landed on the clothes Ye Qiulan was wearing today – a semi-old light beige sweater with a slightly loose collar, revealing the edge of the cotton bottoming shirt underneath.Thin, especially in the library early in the morning when the temperature has not yet fully risen.

Ling Xueqing’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, and an extremely subtle crease appeared on her smooth brows, disappearing in an instant.

Her hand on the cardigan moved.Instead of putting away the clothes, he twisted up a corner of the cardigan with his fingertips and rubbed it very slowly.The delicate feel of wool stretched across her fingertips.

“This,” she said, speaking slower than usual, “is more useful for you to wear than here.”

The words are very common.A piece of clothing is not worn by anyone who wears it.But when it came out of Ling Xueqing’s mouth, coupled with her calm eyes and her fingertips unconsciously rubbing the fabric, it became completely different.That is not polite humility, nor is it simple care.There is something deeper inside, like an underground river slowly surging under the water. It is calm on the surface, but inside there is an unquestionable power that wants to give.

Ye Qiulan’s heart suddenly contracted and then expanded violently.A stream of warm air rushed from his chest to the top of his head, and his cheeks instantly burned.She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.She wanted to say “No need” and “You can wear it yourself”, but all the words were stuck in her throat, blocked by the overly complicated and turbulent emotions contained in Ling Xueqing’s words.

Ling Xueqing didn’t wait for her answer.She retracted her fingers that were twisting the hem of her clothes, and then made a move that made Ye Qiulan almost hold his breath – she picked up the cardigan on her knees again, unfolded it, and stretched her arms forward slightly, crossing the center line of the table.

The clothes were like a light gray cloud hanging in the air between the two of them.Ling Xueqing’s fingers pinched both sides of the collar, her movements were smooth, but her eyes were looking at Ye Qiulan for a moment.There was something almost stubborn in that gaze. It was no longer the usual restraint and alienation, but a clear and unavoidable communication.

she is asking.Use this action to ask silently but clearly: Do you want it?

It’s not “Are you cold?” It’s not “I’ll lend you clothes.”It’s “for you”.It’s “It should be there for you.”

Ye Qiulan was completely frozen.The blood roared in her ears, and only Ling Xueqing’s stretched out hand and the unfolded cardigan with the warmth of her palm were left in her field of vision.She could smell the cold scent of cedar that belonged to Ling Xueqing, more clearly than ever before. It seemed that because of this active approach, those tightly controlled scents could not help but reveal a hint of their essential coldness and persistence.

Time seems to be stuck again.Someone coughed slightly in the distance and a chair was dragged, but these sounds became extremely distant.The whole world shrinks to this table, these two hands, this dress.

Ye Qiulan’s fingers curled up under the table, and her nails dug into her palms. The slight sting brought her back to consciousness.She looked into Ling Xueqing’s eyes, where there was an almost scorching undercurrent that she had never seen before, but the bottom layer was still the silent deep sea that she was familiar with.She’s gambling.Ye Qiulan suddenly realized clearly.Ling Xueqing was using this action to bet on a response, on whether she was willing to accept this offer that transcended ordinary boundaries, and whether she was willing to step into this area that she carefully guarded but was quietly open to.

Refuse?As usual, politely push it back and say “really no need”?That thin layer of “safe distance” that has been maintained for twenty years may be able to be maintained.But if you do that, will you see how the undercurrent in Ling Xueqing’s eyes is extinguished and how it is refrozen into a thicker layer of ice?She wasn’t sure she could handle that image.

Accept it?Taking this piece of clothing was tantamount to acknowledging something, acquiescing to the turbulent emotions under Ling Xueqing’s silence, and exposing her own equally throbbing and uneasy mind to this dangerous, unknown brightness.

Ye Qiulan’s breathing became shallow and rapid.She slowly raised her hand, her arms a little stiff and trembling.Her fingertips, little by little, got closer to the cardigan and Ling Xueqing’s fingers pinching the collar.

The distance is shortening.She could feel the slight heat radiating from Ling Xueqing’s fingers, and could smell the cold fragrance wrapping closer to her.Her fingertips finally touched the soft wool and the edges of Ling Xueqing’s slightly cool, well-jointed fingers.

A very light touch.Like butterfly wings brushing across the ice.

Ling Xueqing’s fingers trembled almost imperceptibly, but did not retract.Her eyes were locked on Ye Qiulan, and the surging undercurrent inside seemed to have stagnated for a moment, waiting for the final judgment.

Ye Qiulan took a deep breath, as if he had exhausted all his strength.She curled her fingers, instead of pushing away, she gently grabbed the other side of the collar of the cardigan and took it from Ling Xueqing’s hand.

The softness of wool instantly filled the palm of the hand, carrying Ling Xueqing’s body temperature and breath, and fell heavily.

Ling Xueqing’s fingers relaxed.It hung in the air for a moment, then slowly retracted, landed on her lap, and curled up slightly.She watched Ye Qiulan take the clothes, watching her awkwardly hold the cardigan in her arms, her cheeks flushed, her eyes evasive but with a clear determination.

No words.But something solid made a tiny, definite cracking sound between the passes.

Ye Qiulan hugged the cardigan, and the soft touch and familiar breath surrounded her.She didn’t put it on immediately, but just hugged it like a warm, weighty promise.She lowered her head, her chin almost touching the soft wool collar, and the crisp cold fragrance of cedar lingered on the tip of her nose. This time, she did not feel any discomfort or sense of distance, but instead felt a strange, almost reassuring sense of belonging.

Ling Xueqing looked at her drooping, red neck and her fingers holding the cardigan tightly.The heavy stagnation feeling in the chest that had been lingering all night and continued into this morning seemed to have been pried open.A very fine, warm air flow seeped in from the gap, intertwined with the original heaviness, and brewed an unprecedented and complex taste.Not exactly relaxed, more like carrying a heavy weight but finally taking the first step in the right direction.

She picked up the pen again, and the pen tip landed on the paper, but she didn’t write immediately.His eyes fell on his empty lap, where the cardigan had just been placed.Now, it is in Qiu Lan’s arms.This realization made her fingertips tingle slightly.

She started writing.The tip of the pen stroked, and a rustling sound sounded between the two of them, more steadily and deeper than before.What she wrote was not some difficult research, but a line of subconscious words that even she herself was not aware of.When I came back to my senses, I realized that what was written on the paper were repeated and messy words: “Guest boat…return home…”

It was exactly the words on the page of the ancient book that Ye Qiulan repaired yesterday.

She stopped writing, looked at the line of words, and her eyes deepened.

Ye Qiulan seemed to have calmed down a bit. She carefully folded the cardigan and placed it on her knees. She didn’t stuff it back into her bag or put it on, she just left it there.Then, she picked up the book again, trying to bring her attention back to the discussion about paper fibers.

But her eyes couldn’t help but drift to Ling Xueqing’s hand across from her, and to the faintly visible outline of her handwriting.She couldn’t see the specific content clearly, but she could feel Ling Xueqing’s unusual concentration when writing, and the dignified strength revealed by the tip of the pen.

The sunlight moved a little further, illuminating half of Ling Xueqing’s arms and the open pages of the book.The light spots danced and fell on her fingers holding the pen, outlining the slender and bony fingers like jade carvings.Ye Qiulan looked at those fingers, remembering their slowness when twisting the corners of clothes, remembering their stability when handing over the cardigan, and remembering the slight arc of force they used when writing at this moment.

An unprecedented and clear desire emerged in her heart.She wanted to know how those fingers would feel when they touched her cheek, how hard they would hold her hand, and whether they would be as restrained as they were when they hugged her, or would reveal more…

This thought was so hot that she could hardly sit still.She suddenly withdrew her gaze and stared at the words in her book. Those words about the beta-1,4 glycosidic bonds of cellulose were like a group of black bugs dancing around, completely unable to enter her mind.

On the opposite side, the word “return” written by Ling Xueqing, the ink has dried, lying quietly on the paper, like a silent inquiry, and like a distant shore that has not yet been reached.