That Nameless Summer Chapter 58

suburbs

On weekends, Ling Qingye got up later than usual and went to the kitchen to cook porridge as soon as it was dawn. Song Li held the door frame to watch him busy, with a bunch of hair sticking up and his eyes groggy.When serving porridge, Ling Qingye put a soft-boiled egg into his bowl and tapped the rim of the bowl with his fingertips: “Eat quickly, pack up and set off, there will be a traffic jam on the road if you are late.”

The mountains in the suburbs are not too high, and the winding mountain roads are surrounded by greenery. The car windows are open and the wind comes in with the fragrance of grass and trees.Song Li leaned against the passenger seat and looked out the window, pointing at the tree shadows on the glass. Ling Qingye caught a glimpse of it from the corner of his eye, switching the car music to his favorite playlist, and the sound of the subwoofer floated gently.

There is a shallow lake at the foot of the mountain. After parking the car, I walked over. The stone road was stained with morning dew and felt slightly cool when I stepped on it.Ling Qingye carried a canvas bag with water and snacks in it. He walked to the stone bench by the lake and put it down. He pulled a piece of paper towel to wipe the stone surface and pulled Song Li to sit down.

There was mist on the lake, and the mountains in the distance were hazy. Song Li reached out and touched the lake water. It was cool. Looking back, he saw Ling Qingye peeling an orange. He cleaned the orange veins with his fingertips and handed over a petal. The sweet juice overflowed.He chewed an orange and heard birds chirping in the distance. The wind blew through the treetops and the leaves rustled. It was quiet and much more comfortable than in the city.

Halfway through the mountain road, sweat broke out on Song Li’s forehead. Ling Qingye stopped, took out a water glass from his bag and handed it to him, and took out a wet towel to wipe his sweat. His fingertips brushed his brow bone with gentle movements.Song Li drank water and saw that the shirt on his back was stained with sweat, so he stretched out his hand and tugged at the corner of his clothes: “Let’s take a rest, there’s no rush.”

The two of them sat on a wooden chair beside the mountain path, Ling Qingye leaned on the back of the chair, and Song Li moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, listening to his steady heartbeat.The wind passed through the forest leaves, carrying a faint smell of pine needles. Song Li closed his eyes and wrapped his fingers around Ling Qingye’s, wrapping them around and loosening them, then loosening them and wrapping them around again.

When going down the mountain, he went around to the farmyard at the foot of the mountain. Ling Qingye ordered a few home-cooked dishes, including local chicken stewed with mushrooms, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, and the soup was rich and mellow.Song Li picked up the rice and ate a full bowl. Ling Qingye sat across from him, put the chicken legs into his bowl, gnawed on the chicken wings, and looked at him smiling.

On the way back, the setting sun was shining brightly, turning the road into a warm golden color. Song Li leaned on the passenger seat feeling sleepy, his head pounding a little bit. Ling Qingye slowed down the car, turned on the cruise control, stretched out his hand to tilt the seat for him, and pulled a thin coat to cover him.

Song Li woke up once in a daze and saw Ling Qingye’s hand holding the steering wheel with distinct knuckles. The setting sun fell on the side of his face, softening the outline.He rubbed the seat, looked in the direction of the steering wheel, and whispered: “Drive slower.”

Ling Qingye chuckled, said hello, and tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips in a gentle rhythm.

It was just getting dark when we got home, and Ling Qingye took Song Li out of the car. He nestled in Ling Qingye’s arms, his arms around his neck, his face pressed against his neck, and his breath was warm.After opening the door and entering the house, Ling Qingye put him on the sofa and turned to boil some warm water. Song Li rubbed his eyes and sat up. He saw him coming over with a water glass, reached out to take it, and took two sips. The warm water moistened his throat and made him feel warm.

Ling Qingye squatted next to the sofa and rubbed his legs. His ankles were a little sore from walking a lot on the mountain road. His fingers were just strong enough to make Song Li’s eyes narrow in comfort.After rubbing his legs, Ling Qingye got up and went to take a shower. Song Li was nestled on the sofa, holding a pillow and looking at the night outside the window. The street lights were on, and there were sporadic footsteps downstairs. The house was quiet except for the sound of water running in the bathroom.

Ling Qingye came out of the shower with wet hair and wore a piece of pure cotton home clothes. He came over and sat next to Song Li, took him into his arms, and used a hair dryer to dry his hair.The hot air was wrapped in the faint smell of shower gel. His fingers passed through his hair and gently rubbed his scalp. Song Li leaned in his arms, his eyelids getting heavier and heavier, and the sound of the hair dryer buzzed like a lullaby.

He whispered: “I am very happy today.”

Ling Qingye lowered his head and kissed the top of his hair, wrapped his arms tightly around his waist, and said in a low and gentle voice, “Come here often.”

Song Li hummed, shrank into his arms, and closed his eyes.