Chapter 26: Zizi, not sleepy. The old-fashioned alarm clock chimed seven times…

The old-fashioned alarm clock chimed seven times. Song Qingshu drowsily opened his eyes, propping himself up on his arms and sitting up in bed, the cotton quilt tucked softly in front of him.

He yawned, shaking off the sleepiness.

He Feng pushed open the door and walked in. He was already dressed and had fed the chickens and ducks.

"Zizi, you're up early today."

He sat down on the edge of the bed. He had only coaxed Song Qingshu to sleep yesterday.

I had never known people were so afraid of rats. Now that I know, he was planning to buy some rat poison, but he was worried Xiaohua and Xiaohei would eat it. But putting it higher should be fine.

Song Qingshu opened his arms and called softly, "Brother."

He had only just discovered yesterday that He Feng really liked that name. The reduplication of words was indeed suitable for coquettishness. Song Qingshu's reaction to calling He Feng that was similar to the feeling of being patted on the head by Nangong Wenya.

Very funny.

He Feng held the man tightly in his arms. Even before changing his clothes, the bed was filled with his sweet scent. "You're already clinging to me this morning?"

Song Qingshu remained silent. They'd already put their feelings aside, so what was wrong with a little clinginess?

He Feng kissed his fair, smooth forehead. "Brother, find me some clothes. After we change and pack, we'll have to go to work."

Seeing the man's thick eyelashes flutter and blink twice, He Feng knew he'd heard. He let him go and searched the closet for clothes.

He Feng placed the clothes on the bed. "Son, do you want to take Xiaohua with you?"

"Is that okay?"

He Feng considered the conditions there. "But I can only hold her. It's so dusty there, and otherwise I'll have to give her a bath when we get back."

"Then no, let Xiaohei stay home with Xiaohua." As he spoke, Song Qingshu unbuttoned his pajamas, revealing his fair shoulders, which looked radiant and smooth,

like flawless porcelain jade.

He Feng's eyes darkened. The pink and white tips of his hair, about to show, made a vein in his forehead throb. He turned and walked out.

If he stayed any longer, he'd be late for work today.

His sense of time wouldn't allow him to constantly breach the contract. "Then I'll go get Xiaohua something to eat."

Raising cats and dogs in the countryside wasn't so particular. Basically, the animals ate whatever people ate. Vegetable soup mixed with rice soup was also a meal, as was meat bones and fish soup.

The dam in front of the bridge was closed, allowing them to work. The water level was flat, and the fish had rushed over. He Feng thought he could go to the water ahead to cast a net that night.

Tomorrow night he could make fish soup, and the kittens could have some fish too.

Song Qingshu came out dressed, fetched some water, and squatted in the yard to brush his teeth. Xiaohua ran over as soon as she saw him, and the fluffy little ball plopped down on Song Qingshu's feet.

Even with the new cloth shoes, he could feel the kitten's soft belly and warm body temperature.

When Song Qingshu bent down to rinse his mouth, it stood up and meowed again. It was probably hungry. It used its kitten teeth to hold the loose trouser legs and kept pulling them out.

"Okay, okay." Song Qingshu bent down and picked it up, stroking its small, round head, and coaxing the kitten softly.

He Feng looked at the coquettish Xiaohua. The vegetable soup on the corner of its mouth was wiped by him just now. He turned around and ran over when he heard Song Qingshu's movement.

The clothes washed last night were hung on the clothesline. There were two pairs of black trousers and one black and one white shorts next to each other. The trouser legs swayed in the wind.

Song Qingshu pretended not to see it. He Feng went into the house to take out his quilt to dry. He smelled it when he went to bed last night. It was a smell that was familiar to adult men.

But at least there was the fragrance left by Song Qingshu, so he endured it for a night. But now that there was someone around, he didn't need to pay too much attention to that little smell.

While he was playing with Xiaohua, He Feng went to lock the back door and told Xiaohei to stay home and guard the house, telling him not to bite Xiaohua or chase the chickens.

Once he was done, he came over, pushing his bicycle. "Let's go, I'll take you on my bike."

Song Qingshu put Xiaohua down and said, "Okay."

He Feng had already told them yesterday that when they got to the location, they didn't have to do anything else but sit at the table or bench and write down the names of those who had come to work that day. If

they couldn't catch the names of some, they would look up the names to see if they had been there before. Many people in the village were illiterate, some didn't even have full names, just spoken

names. Song Qingshu was sitting in the yard, his hair wiped by He Feng. He asked why.

He Feng explained that he had fled the famine when he was still young, and his family had given him a nickname, and that was it.

Song Qingshu had only read about the famine years in history books before, but now he could truly understand that beneath those numbers were lives.

He nodded.

"Back then... did people really eat... humans?" When Song Qingshu asked this, He Feng's hands froze for a moment. The evening breeze blew over, and Song Qingshu shuddered. "Brother?"

He Feng hummed softly, "Yes."

"Back then, I ate wild grass. The trees behind the house were stripped of their bark and cooked and eaten. Even the earthworms and insects in the ground were eaten."

"Only here was good, so many people fled from the north."

"It was around that time. In the fields in the south, at dark, a layer of ghostly lights would float."

Song Qingshu blinked, goosebumps covering his body. Yes, it was 1981, and He Feng was only four, five, or six years old back then.

What a shock that must have been.

Song Qingshu didn't dare to think about it any further. He grasped He Feng's wrist with his hand. He couldn't hold it with one hand, and a strong pulse was felt beneath his fingertips.

"Brother, it's all over."

"Yeah, it's over."

In fact, when Song Qingshu asked He Feng to sleep with him that night because he was afraid of mice, He Feng also saw the twinkle in his eyes and knew that he also wanted to comfort him.

But He Feng had already sealed that memory a long time ago. Who would want to think about that era of panic and famine?

"Bao Che'er," a man said standing in front of Song Qingshu, "My name is Bao Che'er."

Song Qingshu didn't know how to start writing. He flipped forward to yesterday's records and was a little flustered by being urged. "Oh, okay, don't worry."

The man carried a hoe, "It's urgent, they are urging us to dig the ground."

"What's the matter?" Boss Wei happened to come over.

"This educated youth can't write my name." The man complained a little.

"That's because they can't understand you. Go away." Boss Wei, standing nearby, said in uncharacteristic Mandarin, "His name is Bao Cheng."

Song Qingshu then picked up a pen and wrote it down, suggesting, "Actually, you could make a table of the people who came. Write down the names of those who came, and leave them blank."

"For those who didn't come, just add their names and cross them out."

"It's easier to write them down that way, and it won't take as long."

Boss Wei, listening to him, realized what he meant. This way, he could save a lot of time.

"Wait a minute, I'll go get the village chief." Boss Wei turned and left, a smile on his face, as if he'd won some big prize.

He Feng's water cup was placed next to Song Qingshu this time. He hadn't slept well the previous night, and he yawned twice. He opened the cup and placed it in front of Song Qingshu, "Want some drink?"

The breakfast prepared for work today consisted of cornmeal and red taro flour pancakes and steamed cornbread. Eating dry food made one thirsty,

but Song Qingshu, who ate little, wasn't particularly thirsty. He still took two sips from the cup and returned it to He Feng. "Are you tired, brother?"

He Feng tilted his head back and gulped down several large gulps, his prominent Adam's apple rolling up and down. "Not bad, not as tired as training with the team."

Song Qingshu nodded. "Bend down, brother."

He Feng obeyed and bent closer, rubbing his hand with a white handkerchief to wipe his sweat.

The village chief had also arrived at this unfortunate time, accompanied by Boss Wei. Actually, his name was Wei Yongjie, and he was also a village official.

It was just that everyone in the village just called him Boss Wei, and over time, few people actually called him by his real name.

"Come, Old He, listen to what he said." In fact, his words were a bit ambiguous, and his voice was excited. He Feng thought something was wrong with his own kid.

Then Song Qingshu repeated his previous idea, and the village chief's eyes lit up, "What if this piece of paper is not enough to write on?"

"Then don't draw a line, just write it straight at the back."

"Okay, that's it from now on." The village chief made the decision directly. Song Qingshu's eyes curved with joy, and his first reaction was to look at He Feng.

He Feng naturally knew this method. He touched Song Qingshu's head, "Our kid is really amazing."

Song Qingshu rubbed his hand, much like the little flower that curled up in his arms and was touched in the morning, so obedient and soft.

They can only sleep together during the lunch break today.

After Song Qingshu finished lunch, he obediently covered himself with the quilt and prepared to go to bed. He Feng came in after changing his clothes.

The man, who was always steaming hot, now had a cool, moist air about him. As he lay down, Song Qingshu leaned over and asked, "Brother?"

"Aren't you sleepy, little one?" He Feng put his arm around his shoulders and pulled him into his arms.

Song Qingshu nestled against his chest, his soft cheeks pouting, his mouth pouting. "Why did you change clothes?"

He Feng had just wiped himself with a wet towel, worried about soiling the fragrant bed.

"Brother, I hate sweat sticking to clothes. It's uncomfortable."

"Oh." Song Qingshu was clearly unconvinced.

"Are you really not sleepy?" He Feng's grip on his shoulders tightened slightly, hinting at something.

Song Qingshu rested his chin on his chest, his pointed little chin pressing against his ribs, making He Feng feel uncomfortable, looking down at him.

The man being questioned remained motionless, blinking his dark eyes.

With a slight effort, He Feng turned sideways, encircling Song Qingshu in his arms, his legs crossed and restrained.

He was like a shrimp, half-bent over and tucked into He Feng's arms. Fearing that he would be uncomfortable, He Feng tightened his waist to make him stand up straighter.

A warm and sweet breath spread over his chin. He Feng put one hand on his waist and the other on the back of his neck, and took the initiative to move forward and kiss him.

Since he had time today, He Feng was not in a hurry. When their lips touched, he rubbed and pursed them slowly, rubbing the pink lips until they were slightly swollen and rosy.

He began to extend his tongue, licking the lips and even the corners of the lips. It was like a switch, and the tip of his tongue opened Song Qingshu's lips as soon as it touched him.

It was like a clam shell suddenly opened, revealing the pure white pearl inside, which was mouth-watering.

He Feng did not stop at all, and his flexible tongue tip went in and stirred it, swallowing all the sweet saliva inside. The strength in his hands increased until the two were completely pressed together.

Song Qingshu liked the feeling of being close to him. The hot body temperature was transmitted to him, as if He Feng's emotions were passing through him, making his heart tremble.

The kiss was a little tired, and Song Qingshu whimpered incoherently. It wasn't long before He Feng let go.

The hand on his waist patted him, "Go to sleep."