Chapter 2278 - 729: Prose Poem_5

Before the words were fully out, she turned and ran downstairs.

The hurried footsteps thudded away down the stairwell.

In the attic, only the sound of sharp intakes of breath remained.

Cheng Xiaoyue and Lin Feifei stood frozen in place, as if struck by lightning.

In their adolescence, the vague image of the novel’s male lead, sketched countless times in notebooks and before-bed fantasies, suddenly had a clear and concrete prototype at this moment.

He was the kind of classmate you would take the long way just to catch a glimpse of him, pretending to go get water;

Would stay up late praying to be grouped with him;

The type whose presence by the window made the sunlight outside look exceptionally beautiful.

Oh my god!

This... this is Yanyan’s "lover"?!

In their memory, what kind of person was Zhang Yan?

The kind of girl who would order just one vegetable dish in the cafeteria to save two yuan;

One who would blush for half a day after being called on by the teacher, answering in a voice barely louder than a mosquito;

The type who would always quietly stay in the corner during club activities, too shy to initiate conversation with strangers...

She was like a little animal accustomed to hiding herself.

Quiet and harmless, even needing their constant protection.

But now.

She actually found such a boyfriend? And had such a romantic relationship.

The sudden sense of incongruity almost crashed their brains.

By the time they came to their senses, Zhang Yan had already trotted into the wind and snow downstairs, embraced by her "lover" and spun around.

Zhang Yan blushed deeply, keeping her head down without saying a word.

Then, their figures disappeared behind the florist shop’s door.

"I...damn!" Cheng Xiaoyue finally blurted a curse, "Feifei, I’m not dreaming, right?"

"I also feel like it might be a dream..." Lin Feifei muttered.

They dumbly returned to the warm attic, just in time to face Tang Song walking in, both of their cheeks turning red at once.

"Ahem." Cheng Xiaoyue deliberately coughed twice to mask her embarrassment.

Tang Song looked up, wearing a graceful and calm smile, "Good evening, ladies, I’m Tang Song, Zhang Yan’s boyfriend. Thank you for taking such good care of her."

Hearing Tang Song refer to himself as "boyfriend," Zhang Yan quickly lowered her head, her hands nervously clasped in front of her.

"Ah! Hi, hi!"

"I’m Lin Feifei!"

"I’m Cheng Xiaoyue! That jacket, thank you so much!"

"Yes, yes! Much appreciated!"

His demeanor, speech, temperament, and that strikingly handsome face from up close;

Made Cheng Xiaoyue and Lin Feifei, both literary youths, so flustered they could barely speak properly.

"No worries, you are Zhang Yan’s best friends, as long as you like it."

Tang Song looked around the warmly decorated cute attic.

Flowers, books, strings of a violin and warm lighting wove together a cozy atmosphere.

"This place is beautiful and tasteful."

"Ah... Thank you, thank you!" Lin Feifei shyly smiled, "I just fiddled around, um, do you want something to drink? I have coffee and tea."

"No need to bother." Tang Song casually picked up a can of cola from the table and gave it a gentle shake, "This is good."

The four of them sat down in the attic.

Initially, the atmosphere was indeed a bit reserved.

But with a few jokes about Zhang Yan that Tang Song made, perfectly poised and humorous, the awkwardness in the air quickly dissipated.

Then, he talked to them about books, essays, and poetry, his tone gentle, naturally showing a respect for listening.

Lin Feifei and Cheng Xiaoyue gradually relaxed.

The sound of laughter floated again in the small attic.

At some point, the topic turned to music.

Tang Song’s gaze fell on the violin hanging on the wall, "Feifei, do you often play the violin?"

"Ah, no, no." Lin Feifei hurriedly waved her hands, her face turning red, "I learned a while ago, but now I’m rusty."

Tang Song smiled, asking gently, "May I borrow it?"

The three were simultaneously stunned.

"Of course!" Lin Feifei blurted out.

Tang Song turned, looking at Zhang Yan’s curious doe-eyes, and rubbed her head, "Don’t you really like that song ’Country Road’ from ’Whisper of the Heart’?"

"Mm..." Zhang Yan subconsciously nodded.

"Well, this is an attic too," he winked mysteriously, "wanna experience it live? It’s completely different from hearing it through speakers."

Zhang Yan stared at him, suddenly realizing what he was about to do, her heart already in turmoil.

"You...can play the violin?"

"If you want to hear, then I can." He winked and walked over to pick up the violin.

Zhang Yan’s face instantly became scorching hot, stammering, "...I want to."

Cheng Xiaoyue and Lin Feifei watched this scene, feeling like they were force-fed spoonfuls of sour-sweet romance.

"Come on, let’s go to the terrace. Listen to the violin while watching the snow." Tang Song held Zhang Yan’s delicate little hand.

He led her through the small attic’s warm yellow light, into the silver-white night.

Behind them were the chimes of the doorbell in the breeze and the two "lemon spirits" left behind.

Cheng Xiaoyue and Lin Feifei exchanged glances and followed them out.

A guy like Tang Song, just by existing, is deadly enough.

Moreover, being literary young women, who could resist such a romantic atmosphere?

...

On the terrace, the snow fell even heavier.

Tang Song led Zhang Yan to the center of the terrace, standing in front of her.

He gracefully rested the violin on his shoulder, slightly tilted his head, and met her gaze with his deep eyes.

The night was serene.

Amidst the mingling light of snow and warm glow, his profile was sharp yet soft.

His entire presence was like stepping out of a prose poem.

Zhang Yan was utterly mesmerized.

Slightly moving his slender fingers, the bow gently touched the strings.

The melodious tune broke through the night, and "Country Road" slowly began to play.

It wasn’t the fragmented notes Lin Feifei once practiced, nor was it the slightly immature rendition from the film.

It was top-tier performance, beyond reproach.

The melody flowed, like the wind brushing through the valley, whispering something in the snow.

Notes shifted between light and passionate, as if narrating a story of dreams and love.

The world stood still.

Only the music, snowflakes, and him remained.

His gaze, from beginning to end, rested solely on Zhang Yan.

Step by step, he approached her, circling elegantly around her.

The snowflakes followed his figure, interweaving with the dancing notes, swirling and dancing around her.

Zhang Yan stared at him dazedly.

When the music began to play for me.

When the snow of the North finally settled on my shoulders.

I understood.

The snowy country road I’ve walked for so long.

Its endpoint.

Has always been you.