TIMO - Chapter 69
Chapter 69
There were still five minutes before the scheduled departure time for the mountain.
Kong Weiyan was already making a racket, waking everyone up.
“I’m never going on a trip with Sister Kong again…” Jiang Wenqing complained, yawning endlessly as she came downstairs with her jacket only halfway on. “This itinerary is way too packed.”
Kong Weiyan smacked Jiang Wenqing on the head and pouted. “Packed? It’s a two-day, one-night trip, and I only scheduled three activities in total. Besides, for something like a sunrise, you have to set out early to see it.”
“Right, Ye Er?” She turned to the neatly dressed young man. Ye Er had been the first one downstairs after the alarm rang. Although his face was also etched with fatigue, his attitude was at least positive and proper. Thinking this, she nodded in satisfaction.
Ye Er seemed to be in a daze. It took him a moment to react before he nodded slowly. “Right.”
“He’d say ‘right’ no matter what anyone says,” Jiang Wenqing grumbled, pulling on her jacket. Her gaze fell on Kong Weiyan’s energetic face, and she sighed dejectedly. “Do you not need sleep? You look so full of energy.”
“That’s right, I don’t need sleep.” Kong Weiyan blinked, draping an arm over Jiang Wenqing’s shoulder and replying lightly, “Don’t you know adults don’t need to sleep? You’ll understand when you grow up.”
“Boring.” Jiang Wenqing shrugged her shoulder, escaping Kong Weiyan’s clutches. “Who isn’t an adult? I’m of age already. I’m an adult too, but I don’t see myself going without sleep all the time.”
Kong Weiyan paused, smiling distractedly before whispering devilishly in Jiang Wenqing’s ear, “When you’re as old as me, you’ll know what sleeplessness tastes like.”
Jiang Wenqing frowned, looking puzzled. “If you have insomnia, take some medicine.”
“At your age, you should know that avoiding the doctor is a bad habit.”
“I know.” Kong Weiyan waved her hand, replying nonchalantly, “I’ll go get it checked out when we get back.”
“Hey, but where are Fu Zhao and Shi Nan? Why haven’t they come out?”
Just as she finished speaking, there was movement on the stairs. Two figures descended-one full of vigor, the other utterly exhausted.
Kong Weiyan’s eyes widened. She looked at Fu Zhao with an expression of utter disappointment and said earnestly, “I told you not to… you know. Look at Shi Nan, she doesn’t even have the strength to speak.”
Fu Zhao knew from Kong Weiyan’s expression that something was off. Sure enough, that was all the woman had on her mind. She said coolly, “If you keep talking nonsense, I might hit you.”
“I’ll stop.” Kong Weiyan shut her mouth. Her gaze lingered on Shi Nan’s face for a moment. There was some fatigue in her eyes, but her complexion seemed rosy and radiant. Reassured, she couldn’t help but ask, “Shi Nan, are you okay? Can you still go up the mountain?”
“I’m fine.” Shi Nan shook her head gently. “I just didn’t rest well. I slept too little.”
“Oh, that’s good, that’s good.” Kong Weiyan nodded, then turned to call out to Ye Er, who was dozing on the sofa, and Jiang Wenqing, who had fallen silent after a few words. “Let’s go, let’s go, time to set off!”
“Huh?” Ye Er, his eyes bleary with sleep, picked up the supplies he had prepared for the mountain. “Let’s go.”
Jiang Wenqing frowned. After a long moment, as if having made a great resolution, she opened her eyes, snatched up her hat, and put it on. “Let’s go, let’s go.”
Kong Weiyan chased after them, frantic. “Hurry, hurry, it’ll be a shame if we don’t make it.”
The three in front walked quickly.
Fu Zhao didn’t rush. Her gaze fell on Shi Nan’s face, who was leaning on her shoulder. “Shall we go too?”
“Mmm…” Shi Nan hummed softly, her voice trailing off lazily. Her eyes remained closed, her lashes slightly curled. “What about you? Is your head still dizzy?”
Fu Zhao shook her head. The unbearable dizziness from before had indeed subsided a lot. It seemed it wasn’t a symptom of an impending susceptibility period, but just from soaking in the hot spring for too long. She breathed a sigh of relief and answered softly, “Not dizzy. Much better.”
“Looks like my massage skills are pretty good,” Shi Nan chuckled, opening her eyes slightly. The light in her tea-brown eyes trembled, carrying the haziness of someone just waking up, like a layer of morning mist-clear and shimmering.
“You should thank me,” she added.
Fu Zhao froze, her breathing slowing. She subconsciously asked, “How should I thank you?”
Shi Nan lifted her head, resting her chin on Fu Zhao’s shoulder. She looked at her gently, her eyes holding a faint smile, her voice softening.
“You can give me a kiss.”
The light words, carried on a warm breath, climbed to her ear, clinging to a large patch of skin around her left ear as the heat began to spread.
Fu Zhao swallowed, clutching the hem of her clothes. “The others…”
“They’re not here.” Shi Nan didn’t even turn her head, her gaze fixed on Fu Zhao, shimmering slightly. “You can kiss me.”
“You need to get used to it,” she said.
Gazed upon by such clear, bright eyes, Fu Zhao’s heart softened. The fingers clutching her clothes quietly relaxed. Her attention was completely focused on Shi Nan’s face before her, and she couldn’t help but lean closer.
As the distance closed, the motion seemed to slow down.
Warm breaths intertwined.
It was quiet all around, with almost no sound.
She got her wish. Her lips met Shi Nan’s, a soft and fragrant touch. It wasn’t just her lips that were soft; her entire body seemed to soften as well.
Her hands unconsciously wrapped around a slender, soft waist, a gentle warmth spreading up from her palms.
An arm wrapped around her neck, and she thought she felt warm fingertips gently caressing her earlobe and the skin around her gland.
The feeling of kissing was good, and a kiss where both parties were conscious was far more delicate than any one-sided kiss before.
It wasn’t a simple, light touch, but one met with a fervent response.
The joy in her heart grew another notch.
If joy was something that could be filled to the brim, then at this moment, hers was at its fullest.
Just the simple act of kissing was enough to make her happy.
It didn’t last long, yet time seemed to have slowed down considerably.
After a long while, they parted. Fu Zhao’s gaze fell into the smile in Shi Nan’s eyes.
Shi Nan smiled at her, her lips glistening slightly. She rubbed Fu Zhao’s earlobe.
“Very good. You knew to hold me this time.”
Fu Zhao couldn’t help but smile back. She didn’t speak, just quietly watched Shi Nan smile, and Shi Nan watched her smile back.
The atmosphere was harmonious, a quiet intimacy filling the air.
Until Kong Weiyan’s angry shout reached their ears.
“That’s enough! You’re done kissing! It’s time to go up the mountain! Stop dawdling, if we miss the sunrise, I’m holding you two responsible!”
Startled, Fu Zhao looked toward the source of the voice and, sure enough, saw the three who had just left standing at the door again.
Ye Er coughed lightly, his gaze unconsciously averting. “They were wondering why you two weren’t coming, so we came back to check.”
Jiang Wenqing was squatting, looking like she was just missing a bag of sunflower seeds. Seeing that Fu Zhao and Shi Nan had finally noticed them, she stood up, dusted herself off, and pouted. “I don’t really mind…”
She pointed at Kong Weiyan beside her. “It’s just that she seems really eager to see the sunrise.”
Kong Weiyan huffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes at Fu Zhao. “Let me be clear, it’s not that I don’t want to watch you two kiss. Once we’re on the mountain, you can kiss all you want.”
“But right now, don’t say another word. That’s it, that’s enough, let’s go, move out.”
After her concise speech, Kong Weiyan patted Ye Er and Jiang Wenqing, then gestured with her chin toward Fu Zhao and Shi Nan.
Fu Zhao took a few seconds to react. Realizing they didn’t really care about the matter, she took Shi Nan’s hand and followed the other three.
Shi Nan swung their clasped hands. “Your fault.”
“Your fault,” Fu Zhao retorted, not backing down.
Shi Nan looked at her, her voice light and lazy as she glanced up. “You hesitated for too long.”
“Otherwise, we could have made it quick.” She blinked. “Besides, I just meant a quick peck, not for you to kiss me for so long.”
Fu Zhao paused. “Then it’s still your fault.”
It’s your fault for being too good to kiss.
She didn’t dare say that out loud.
But Shi Nan, as if she had heard it, curved her lips into a smile. Her beautiful lashes fluttered.
“So what if we miss the sunrise?”
“Will you blame me too?”
Fu Zhao thought for a moment, then spoke. “No.”
“Why?” The smile on Shi Nan’s lips widened with a hint of understanding.
Fu Zhao lowered her voice, tidying the strands of Shi Nan’s hair that had been messed up by the wind. “Because we’ve already seen a sunrise together. Even if we miss this one, we won’t have any regrets about sunrises.”
It was strange. After regaining her memories, she vaguely discovered that many of the regrets from her past life seemed to have been filled.
But it still felt like something was missing.
What exactly was it?
She couldn’t figure it out, so she could only take it slow.
But they still made it up the mountain before sunrise.
The snow had also stopped at just the right time, as if making way for them.
They made it in time for the sunrise, which was the thing that made Kong Weiyan happiest. She was so happy she hugged Jiang Wenqing and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
Jiang Wenqing wiped the saliva from her face in disgust. “Is watching a sunrise really that exciting?”
“Of course.” Kong Weiyan wasn’t angry. She exclaimed with great feeling, “It’s not watching the sunrise that makes people happy. It’s not missing it, not leaving behind any regrets, that makes people happy.”
“The thing I dislike the most is leaving regrets.”
Hearing this, Fu Zhao paused in her actions. She was still laying out the camping gear on the ground. The mountain was covered in a thick layer of snow, and the wind was bone-chillingly cold. Setting up the tent they brought might make the wait for the sunrise less arduous.
“You don’t have any regrets?” she asked, continuing Kong Weiyan’s train of thought as she worked on the tent.
Kong Weiyan’s happy expression froze for an instant. Then she lowered her eyes and unzipped the bag of equipment in her hands. Her voice was scattered by the mountain wind, sounding much fainter by the time it reached Fu Zhao.
“How could a person not have regrets?”
“It’s precisely because the regrets of the past are so great that I always think about not having another one.”
Fu Zhao’s gaze followed her words to Kong Weiyan. The person who was usually so bubbly was now on the mountain, her hair fluttering in the wind. Half of her face was hidden in the gloom, with a backdrop of ice and snow, her figure taking on a hint of loneliness.
She suddenly realized that Kong Weiyan was standing alone, very close to the steep cliff edge.
This spot was the excellent sunrise viewing location Kong Weiyan had chosen, so the cliff was directly in front of them, with a valley stretching out before it, shrouded in layers of mist.
Fu Zhao frowned. Just as she took a step to pull Kong Weiyan back, Shi Nan acted first, pulling her over. “Be careful. Falling off is no joke.”
Kong Weiyan was stunned for a few seconds before she reacted, breaking into a smile. “I know, but it’s fine. There’s a railing down there, nothing will happen.”
“Be careful even if nothing will happen,” Fu Zhao said, still worried. “Who knows what could happen if you fell.”
Kong Weiyan’s steps faltered. Uncharacteristically, she didn’t talk back, only saying a meek “Okay.”
Shi Nan patted Kong Weiyan’s shoulder, then walked over to Fu Zhao’s side to help her, changing the subject back to their previous conversation. “But it’s true. The existence of past regrets makes you cherish every future moment even more.”
“So this sunrise is still very important. Good thing we made it,” Jiang Wenqing chimed in, setting up her recording equipment on the ground with the camera pointed at them. She had recently been working on a documentary about her life, which had garnered quite a bit of attention on the StarNet. “But if this recording fails, if there’s nothing in the equipment when I get back, that will be my biggest regret.”
“What about the others?”
Shi Nan suddenly asked. She waved the flashlight in her hand and asked with interest, “What is your biggest regret?”
“My biggest regret…” Ye Er repeated the words. He set up a chair and thought for a few seconds before answering, “I’d have to think about that. I don’t think I have any, because it seems like all my past regrets can be made up for with future actions.”
“For me, there probably aren’t any regrets that can’t be remedied.”
“It seems Xiao Er is very lucky.” Shi Nan smiled, her gaze resting on the busy Fu Zhao. “To be able to remedy all past regrets with the future, there’s nothing more fortunate than that.”
“Yeah…” Jiang Wenqing also stroked her chin and nodded. “Like me, if this recording really fails, can it truly not be remedied?”
“If I call you all out again next time to watch another sunrise, wouldn’t that make up for it?”
“That’s a good idea.” Fu Zhao finished setting up the canopy and walked out from under it to continue arranging the side panels. “But we’d have to find a time when all five of us are free.”
“That’s easy.” Jiang Wenqing placed the other things she had prepared inside the framed tent. “I’ll find the time eventually.”
Shi Nan nodded lightly, her eyes brightening. Her soft voice was scattered in the wind.
“Yes, you’ll find it eventually.”
The windbreak was quickly set up, with five chairs arranged neatly inside. Beside them were some snacks that Jiang Wenqing had painstakingly carried up, insisting that you couldn’t enjoy the scenery without food, and that this sunrise would be imperfect without chicken feet and beer.
The sky was just beginning to lighten. The surrounding trees were lush, covered in a thick layer of snow. The wind had died down considerably, and the whistling sound that had been constantly in their ears had softened.
They sat inside the shelter, shielded from the severe cold. With some extra warm gear and alcohol, which was permitted for adults, it wasn’t too cold.
There was still a while before sunrise, so they continued their previous conversation. Jiang Wenqing, out of boredom, had suddenly noticed that Kong Weiyan hadn’t agreed with her statement about making up for regrets.
“Do you think I won’t be able to find a time when all five of us are free?” Jiang Wenqing pulled her thermal blanket tight, took a sip from her beer can, and asked, suddenly remembering Kong Weiyan’s reaction from earlier.
Kong Weiyan, lounging lazily in her chair, paused in the act of reaching for a beer. After a long silence, she muttered under her breath, “How did you notice that?”
She picked up the beer and pulled the tab. The fizzing sound echoed in the quiet surroundings, accompanied by her nonchalant addition.
“A time will definitely be found.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything just now?” Jiang Wenqing pressed on, not giving up.
Kong Weiyan sighed and stared at Jiang Wenqing for a long while. Then she patted her on the head and said something indistinct.
“Will the sunrise you see next time be the same sunrise you missed this time?”
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