Everyone's been reborn, so who would bother finding a wife on their own?

Chapter 48 My Parents Aren't Home Tonight

Is it worth risking a debt of several thousand dollars?

not worth it.

But he couldn't swallow the insult of being humiliated in public by a mere teenager.

He clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking twice, and the cigarette between his teeth was deformed from being chewed.

Brother Qian took a step back, then another.

He took the cigarette out of his mouth, smashed it on the ground, and crushed it twice with his toe. The cigarette butt burst into a few sparks on the ground before being crushed into a black clump of dust.

Then he looked up, stared at Lin Yue, and squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth, "Tell your dad, you can't hide forever, I'll come looking for him again."

He glanced at Song Huan again, and that glance contained a lot of emotions: anger, resentment, and frustration at being unable to do anything about a teenager.

Then he turned and walked away, taking long strides. After a few steps, he looked back and muttered something under his breath before his voice faded into the night.

The alleyway light stretched his shadow very long, until it flashed at the corner and disappeared.

The streets quieted down again.

Song Huan stood there for more than ten seconds, making sure the person was really far away, before turning around.

Lin Yue was still leaning against the trash can, her shoulders slumped, her whole body limp as if her bones had been removed, leaning against the cold metal.

She slowly squatted down, burying her face in her knees, her shoulders trembling slightly, but she didn't cry out.

Song Huan looked at her, feeling as if something was blocking her heart.

The name Lin Yue may not have been just a name from the beginning, but a little spell.

A curse that has bound her for over a decade, one she has been unable to break free from.

Song Huan took a step forward, stood next to her, and looked down at her.

She didn't look up; her shoulders were still trembling slightly.

The fabric of her pajamas was very thin, clinging to her back, and you could vaguely see the outline of her shoulder blades, delicate like the wings of a bird that hadn't fully grown yet, so frail that it made your heart ache.

After standing there for a while, Song Huan reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it over.

Lin Yue raised her head slightly, revealing only her eyes, which were red-rimmed and covered with tiny teardrops. The light from the streetlamp fell on them, shattering into a blurry halo.

She saw the crumpled tissue, paused for a moment, reached out and took it, holding it in her palm without wiping.

"……Thanks."

His voice was soft and hoarse, as if it were being squeezed out from the deepest part of his throat, and every word was trembling.

Song Huan put his hand back in his pocket, looked at her, and then looked in the direction of the alley entrance.

The night wind blew again, ruffling the hair on his forehead and lifting the loose ends of Lin Yue's hair, which then clung to her damp cheeks.

"Don't go out alone at night anymore," he said. "Take out the trash during the day."

Lin Yue didn't speak, but nodded, resting her chin on her knees.

Song Huan wanted to say something more, but then felt that nothing she said would be appropriate.

Criticizing her father?

He is not qualified.

Comfort her?

He's not good at comforting people; the words of comfort he utters are dry and unpleasant, like chewing on a plain steamed bun—they're choking you.

He could only stand by her side, shielding her from the wind.

After standing there for about a minute, Lin Yue suddenly looked up.

Her eyes were still red, and the tears on her eyelashes had dried, leaving a faint salt stain.

Her face was calm.

It's the kind of calm that suppresses all emotions to the deepest part of the heart, so tightly that not a single corner is exposed.

Then she stood up, brushed the dust off her pajamas, tucked her disheveled hair behind her ears, and took a deep breath.

Then she looked up at Song Huan and said in an unusually serious tone, "Song Huan, my parents aren't home tonight."

Song Huan's heart suddenly started pounding wildly.

He felt as if he had been struck by an electric current from the soles of his feet to the top of his head; his blood rushed to his head, and his ears felt hot.

His brain was racing, but all that came out was gibberish.

Wait, what kind of development is this?

How should I respond to that?

Countless images and warnings flashed through his mind, finally settling on two large characters that flashed frantically in front of him like a warning light.

Dah!

"Wh...what?" Song Huan's voice rose slightly, almost splitting his legs. He instinctively took half a step back, his back ramrod straight. "What are you saying? We're both minors!"

Lin Yue looked at him.

She paused for a second, then a crack appeared in the serious and solemn expression on her face.

Confusion and bewilderment welled up from the cracks; her brows furrowed slightly, her head tilted a little, and she blinked twice.

Then she seemed to finally realize what Song Huan was saying.

Her face flushed red instantly.

From the neck to the ears, and from the ears to the forehead, it turned completely red.

That red wasn't the red of shyness, but more like the red of someone who had been splashed with scalding water.

She raised both hands at the same time and shook them frantically in front of her, the movements so large that her pajama sleeves flew up. Her voice became shrill, and she spoke so fast it was like she was pouring beans out, stumbling and tumbling as she hopped out.

"No, no, no, no, you're overthinking it! That's not what I meant! I meant I'm scared to be alone! Could you come with me for a walk? Just a walk around the neighborhood! Not what you're thinking!"

Her last few words were almost shouted out, the sound echoing for several seconds in the empty street, startling a stray cat perched on the wall next to her, which meowed and darted into the alley.

Song Huan looked at Lin Yue's face, which was flushed red to the roots of her neck, and saw her hands still shaking frantically.

Looking into her eyes, I saw a mixture of shame and anxiety. The paleness and fear that had appeared earlier were completely gone, replaced by a lively, almost comical, panic.

He suddenly felt like laughing.

But he held back.

"Oh," he said, his voice returning to normal, even with a hint of innocence, "so it was Zhuanzhuan. You should have said so earlier."

Lin Yue glared at him, her face still flushed, her chest still heaving from his explanations.

She angrily threw the crumpled tissue in her hand at his chest, and Song Huan laughed and caught it.

"Let's go," he said.

Lin Yue lowered her head, took a few steps forward, then used the back of her hand to cool her cheeks without turning around. Her voice was muffled as she asked, "...What were you thinking just now?"

Song Huan followed behind her with her hands in her pockets, watching the streetlights cast her shadow on the ground, the hem of her pajamas swaying gently with her steps.

"I wasn't thinking about anything," he said.

Lin Yue turned around and glared at him, then quickly turned back.

She walked ahead, her pace a little faster than before, but not too fast—the kind of speed at which she knew someone was following behind, so she didn't need to look back.

The two walked along the old street. The street was still quiet, and the streetlights cast their shadows on the ground, which stretched and shortened, overlapping and then separating.

The night breeze became lighter and less chilly, carrying a faint, floral scent of laundry detergent wafting from someone's balcony.