Chapter 13 A light kiss on the forehead When Song Qingshu woke up again, it was already...

When Song Qingshu woke up again, it was already the next morning. He slept a lot yesterday and woke up early today.

The sounds of chickens and dogs barking outside the window reached his ears, a little blurry, but giving people a feeling of peace and tranquility.

He was lying on his side, buried in the broad chest, his clothes disheveled, and his body began to feel cold again after the fever.

The man in front of him was healthy and strong, with a handsome appearance. The heat from his body enveloped Song Qingshu, making him a little obsessed.

Song Qingshu pursed his lips. This posture was not right. He didn't want to wake up first and face it. He pretended to be still asleep and snuggled into He Feng's arms again.

This woke He Feng up. He took away his hand that was originally on Song Qingshu's back, lowered his head to look at the person who was buried in his arms like a small shrimp, and slowly put it back and patted it gently.

It was precisely this kind of feeling that allowed emotions and warmth to be transmitted in a very gentle and tender way. Song Qingshu felt a warm current flowing through his heart, leaving behind a hot temperature and mark.

He was very happy, and the corners of his mouth secretly raised a little arc.

He Feng thought that he was sleeping uneasily, and patted him for a long time, and finally made Song Qingshu sleepy again.

He slowly fell asleep again, and He Feng gently put him on the bed, got up from the bed, and helped to tidy up Song Qingshu's quilt.

Before leaving, he bent down and kissed him on the smooth and white forehead.

The temperature of the forehead had gone down, and it was slightly cool. He Feng knew that this was Song Qingshu's normal body temperature.

Holding Song Qingshu to sleep, the faint fragrance seemed to linger in his nose, and he slept very peacefully.

He Feng walked out the door and closed the wooden door of the main room with a creaky sound.

The rain stopped completely.

He was going to go to the backyard first to see if any poplar branches had broken off in yesterday's strong winds and fallen on the inner room's roof, causing the leak.

If the sun came out today, he would take down the sheets and wash them.

He still had to clean up the fields, to see if the vegetable sprouts had grown, and then go to the fields to see how the soybean seedlings were doing.

Song Qingshu blinked under the quilt. The touch on his forehead seemed to still be there, and the hot breath passed by and then disappeared.

When the kiss fell, Song Qingshu, who was already drowsy and about to fall asleep, suddenly woke up.

In fact, his breathing was disordered, but He Feng didn't notice. His straight eyelashes trembled twice. He Feng probably just wanted to make sure he was still feverish.

So he left after the kiss.

But Song Qingshu's heart was already pounding at the gentle kiss.

He couldn't fall asleep. He planned to wait until he calmed down and then "pretend" to have just woken up and knew nothing.

When he got up, He Feng was no longer in the yard. Even Xiao Hei, who had howled twice in the morning, was gone.

Song Qingshu washed up slowly. It didn't rain today, but it was still a little chilly in the morning. He knew he wasn't feeling well, so he put on an extra layer of clothes.

There was a sound coming from behind the house. After washing up, Song Qingshu put on his cloth shoes and tiptoed towards the back of the house.

Crossing the yard and going through the back door, he was still mentally preparing himself, thinking about how to talk appropriately if he met someone he didn't know.

Even after two years in the village, the people Song Qingshu had only come into contact with were just doing farm work.

The village wasn't big, but it wasn't like the neighboring grandmother and He Feng chatting about family matters. Sometimes Song Qingshu couldn't even understand the gossip when he was next to them.

He could only play with the little yellow dog at the grandmother's house. I think

I'll make some friends when I go to teach.

As he was thinking, he had already walked to He Feng's side. He was standing on a ladder, sorting out dead branches and leaves. Some of them had even fallen into the tiles. No wonder there was a leak.

Song Qingshu looked around. There were many trees here, poplars, mulberry trees and so on, and a small green river. He wondered if it was a tributary of the bridge in the south.

Seeing that he was busy, he didn't shout, but stood aside and watched quietly.

Xiao Hei saw him, and pounced on him, with mud all over his front paws, but Song Qingshu dodged them nimbly.

Thinking that Song Qingshu wanted to play with it, it became more and more excited, and pounced on the left and then the right.

He Feng turned his head when he heard the movement, "Baby."

A light flashed in Song Qingshu's eyes, and he took two steps closer to He Feng, "Brother!"

"Why don't you sleep a little longer?" He had just finished speaking when he saw Xiao Hei, who had missed once, gathering strength to pounce on the young man again. Li Sheng shouted: "Xiao Hei, sit down!"

The puppy, who was still playing wantonly, turned his head to look at He Feng and sat down immediately.

"I slept too much yesterday, so I woke up early today."

He Feng pulled out a branch, remembering that he hadn't even finished his small bowl of stewed egg custard yesterday. "Are you hungry?"

"No." A sick Song Qingshu would have no appetite for several days, and he still had it now, even though the little food in his stomach had been digested completely.

"Then let me clean up here first, then go back to cook."

"Can I go to the fields with you after dinner? I don't know where you usually are. If there's an emergency, I don't know how to find you."

He Feng remembered that he wanted to go out for a walk, and what he said made sense, so he naturally agreed. "Okay, I can also pick some dates to eat."

Song Qingshu was happy, standing next to the bamboo ladder and holding out his hand. "Is it because of these dead branches and leaves that it's leaking?"

"Yes, there's also a big branch that was just cut off yesterday. I just sawed it off."

"Go back and dry it in the sun, and save it for cooking."

As he said this, he threw the branches on the eaves to the left. Song Qingshu was standing on the right. If he didn't look up to talk, he could only see his fluffy little head. If he looked up, he could see his beautiful face.

Coming down from the roof, the swirling white clouds were gradually pushed away by the sunlight, and the morning sun rose. It was a bright, sunny day.

Song Qingshu stood by a poplar tree, and as he was about to leave, he saw a brown shell on the weeds nearby. It was a cicada shell.

He Feng came over, carrying a bamboo ladder. "I've heard a lot of grasshoppers chirping this year. There are always kids looking for them in the backyard. I didn't expect there would still be some."

The backyard was thick with grass, but He Feng had cut a path through it when he came, so he couldn't get his feet caught in the weeds.

But Song Qingshu was interested because He Feng said that cicada shells were traditional Chinese medicine and that collecting more could make money.

Even if he didn't collect much this year, he could still sell them next year.

It was a good idea.

He Feng told him to be careful, try not to get bitten by mosquitoes, and don't throw away cicada shells that were hard to reach.

Song Qingshu searched around and picked up two or three by the mulberry tree, which was as thick as a bowl. There were also many on the poplar trees, but he might feel uncomfortable in the summer.

The riverbank here is steeper than the one at the bridge. It looks like it was dug out by humans. There don't seem to be many fish in it, but the ducks that He Feng feeds can be put here.

He searched around and went back with a handful of cicada shells.

He Feng was peeling potatoes and looked up. "Hey, there are so many grasshopper shells."

"Let's find a plastic bag to put them in first. We'll save them and sell them next year."

Song Qingshu imitated him and called out, "grasshopper." If he hadn't known He Feng was talking about cicadas, he would have thought he was talking about grasshoppers.

He found a thinner, smaller shell, a pale yellow one, and held it in his palm to show He Feng. "What's this?"

"Ya Le Hu Lu Er," He Feng said casually.

Song Qingshu found it a bit amusing. He had a hard time pronouncing the accent; the "le" was barely audible. He glanced at it and asked, "Can you sell this?"

"This one's light, won't weigh you down, so you can just throw it in."

Song Qingshu nodded and entered the main room, still mumbling "Ya Le Hu Lu Er."

This morning, they had stir-fried potatoes and meat. Halfway through, the lightbulb in the room suddenly flickered on. He Feng stood up to turn it off; the light had finally come on.

After they finished eating, one changed clothes in the room while the other washed the pots and pans. After changing, Song Qingshu removed the sheets and prepared to carry his own quilt and cotton blanket out to dry.

He carried one on his left shoulder, the other on his right. As he reached the main room door, "Stand still,"

He Feng said. He took both quilts, threw them on the line, and shook them out.

Song Qingshu wasn't upset. Instead, he came over and tugged on He Feng's collar, "Let's go."

He was as excited as a city kid who'd never been to a farm. He Feng assumed it was because he'd never been to a vegetable garden, but it was because Song Qingshu had truly never been to a farm.

He sat on the back of his bicycle, a shovel in the basket. He Feng said it was for shoveling.

Song Qingshu wanted to help hold it, but He Feng was afraid the mud would splash onto him. Besides, even though it was a small shovel, it was sharp. If it lurched when he braked, it would definitely hurt him.

On the way, they ran into the village chief, who had probably just been to the fields. He Feng asked how the bean sprouts were doing.

There were two crops a year here: wheat in the spring and beans in the fall. Besides the large plots of land, some families were allocated smaller plots, which they used to grow vegetables.

The village chief looked at He Feng and sighed, saying the crops weren't growing well. After all, the drought had started right after they planted, and the rain hadn't come at the right time. Those planted late were doing well, though.

Without much conversation, He Feng said he was going to check out the fields. The village chief didn't say anything else, just smiled at Song Qingshu.

As the bicycle started moving, the village chief called out from behind, "By the way, I'll take that fish home for you tomorrow."

He Feng waved with one hand and turned the corner on his bicycle.

Song Qingshu was startled by the tilt of the bicycle and hugged He Feng's back, feeling the scorching heat.

"Didn't I give the fish to the village chief?" Sitting in the back seat, Song Qingshu could only look up at He Feng's rough stubble and broad back.

"Well, you haven't eaten it. You asked the village chief to save some for me."

Song Qingshu's heart was filled with sweetness, and he nodded obediently.

Someone was busy in the vegetable garden. One family was surnamed Jin, and the other was also surnamed He, but they were not from the same family as He Feng.

They saw He Feng coming and called out, then turned to look at Song Qingshu, "Are you the educated youth?"

"Yes." Song Qingshu spoke a little louder at the distance, worried that the old man wouldn't hear.

As it turned out, the voice was still a little small. He took two steps into the field and followed He Feng closely. When

Old Jin saw him coming, he put on his reading glasses and said, "You are so handsome, I didn't recognize you wrongly."

Everyone likes to be praised. Song Qingshu pursed his lips, and the dimples on his cheeks appeared again.

He squatted on the ground and chatted with Old Jin who was resting.

He Feng stood in the field, watching him gesture and talk. He seemed to be having a good time chatting, so he just buried his head in his own work.