Chapter 22: Our Secret (Please Support with Bookmarks and Monthly Votes)

Song Jiannian wore a pair of loose beige pants and a gray blouse, her chest noticeably rounded, which triggered an occupational hazard in Chen Yuan just by looking.

The man driving in the front seat was middle-aged; from the back seat, only his profile was visible.

He looked very much like the middle-aged man they had seen in the university district a couple of nights ago.

Could he be the "Uncle Zhang" Song Jiannian had mentioned?

"Uncle Zhang, this is Chen Yuan," she said.

Their eyes met through the rearview mirror. Uncle Zhang smiled and nodded, his expression no longer as stern as it had been upon their first meeting.

Chen Yuan didn’t eat the pancake with fillings he had bought earlier since they were still in someone else’s car. He decided to wait until they got out.

The place Song Jiannian wanted to visit wasn’t far from the university district, just a short drive of over ten minutes.

Xianglin Garden.

Chen Yuan, being an outsider, wasn’t very familiar with the area, but he could catch glimpses of the inside through the surrounding walls.

The vegetation was lush; it seemed to be a botanical garden.

Uncle Zhang parked the car, and Chen Yuan opened the door and stepped out.

There weren't many people at the entrance, but quite a few cars were parked, and some small vendors were selling goods.

The sky above was a deep blue, with drifting clouds casting shadows that rippled like waves. A gentle breeze tousled her long hair, and drifting dandelion seeds quietly settled at its tips.

“Come on,” Song Jiannian called out, as if this were her home turf, warmly inviting Chen Yuan along.

“Do you like grilled gluten? That lady over there makes it especially delicious,” she said, pointing to the woman roasting skewers at the entrance.

“I’ll get a few,” Chen Yuan replied.

“I’ll get them. I’m the one taking you out today,” Song Jiannian said.

She approached the food stall and glanced back at Uncle Zhang.

“Uncle Zhang, do you want some?”

“No, miss. I’m getting old; I can’t handle those kinds of foods anymore,” Uncle Zhang said with a smile.

Song Jiannian then looked at Chen Yuan. “How about you?”

“One will do.”

“Auntie, two grilled gluten skewers, please,” Song Jiannian held up two fingers.

A few minutes later, the skewers were ready, and the two of them entered the botanical garden together.

Uncle Zhang followed behind, holding a parasol and two bottles of mineral water, maintaining a distance of about twenty meters.

Upon entering, they were greeted by an artificial lake edged with wooden platforms, where parents accompanied their children in fishing.

Nearby, there was a small horse-drawn carriage, which Song Jiannian watched intently.

“Do you want to ride it?”

“No, the driver is whipping that little horse, and I’m wondering if it hurts.”

“Horses probably don’t feel pain.”

“Why not?”

“That’s a donkey.”

“A donkey cart? The sign at the entrance clearly says ‘horse carriage tour.’”

“The picture is just for reference,” Song Jiannian quipped.

Under her guidance, they soon reached a small pavilion not far off.

Chen Yuan ate the pancake and grilled gluten, occasionally sipping on some lemon water—it was refreshing.

Song Jiannian nibbled delicately as well.

“Shouldn’t you be thanking your dad for letting you experience the joys of the poor?” Chen Yuan teased.

“Isn’t Uncle Zhang the hotel manager? Why is he doing driver and bodyguard duties now?” Chen Yuan asked.

“Uncle Zhang was originally my driver, but since I’m attending school here, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving me alone, so he came along,” Song Jiannian explained.

What a cliché idol story.

“So, you must be very close with Uncle Zhang?”

“Yes, he’s been with me since I was little. I think he came to our house when I started kindergarten.”

“At least fifteen years, then?”

“Hmm…” Song Jiannian pondered. “About that, I’m not exactly sure.”

At first, Chen Yuan took it seriously, but then something felt off.

Song Jiannian wasn’t a local, and Uncle Zhang was about the same age as her parents, surely with his own family. How could he just come and stay?

“Did Uncle Zhang ask you about going out alone with me, a boy?”

“No, I had already told him about you.”

“What did you say?”

“Everything.”

“Uh…”

Chen Yuan recalled the nonsensical notes he had scribbled in his notebook during middle school:

“The English teacher is very pretty…”

“After midnight, I gain superpowers; every breath earns me a dime…”

“Liu Wanwan is beautiful…”

“Trump is no good; he doesn’t keep his word. His Sesame Credit must be negative…”

And these foolish entries were seen by their parents.

So embarrassing.

“Well, you don’t have to tell him everything. It’s better to keep some secrets,” Song Jiannian said with big, bright eyes, looking like a groundhog caught at knifepoint—innocently clueless.

“So, let’s keep this place our secret. I won’t tell Yueyue and the others.”

“You’ve never brought your roommates here before?”

“Yesterday, Uncle Zhang took me to inspect another hotel, and on the way back, we passed by here. After a quick walk around, I discovered this place.”

“Then this place is our secret. Don’t tell anyone.”

Chen Yuan finished the last sip of lemon water and threw the bottle accurately into a nearby trash bin.

“What’s our mission today?”

“I’m taking you to see the squirrels.”

Song Jiannian rose and led Chen Yuan into a small grove.

Walking quietly ahead, her steps were light. The shade in the woods was cool, and even if they didn’t see squirrels, the stroll was refreshing.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you find them. I saw some here yesterday after a short walk.”

After a while, Song Jiannian suddenly stopped.

“There they are, there they are!”

Following her pointing finger, Chen Yuan spotted the squirrels but didn’t find it particularly interesting.

“Great! We found the squirrels.”

“It’s just coaxing the kids a bit; a little fibbing is nothing.”

The squirrels sensed humans and darted away at lightning speed. Song Jiannian jogged to keep up.

Suddenly, she stumbled and nearly fell into a nearby flower bed.

Chen Yuan reacted swiftly, grabbing her just in time.

“You scared me.”

Song Jiannian looked down at the flowers beside her.

“I crushed a few of these small flowers. Will it cause problems? Will the caretaker come looking for me?”

“It’s a huge impact, like the biological world losing Liu Shiyu.”

“Who’s Liu Shiyu?”

“He was our dorm’s second best at biology. There was a question on the college entrance biology exam about how to improve soil fertility. He said to vigorously promote burial.”

A little head filled with big question marks.

“Then no more coffins.”

Chen Yuan scratched his head. If she could catch such a joke, she was probably just spirited.

“You better find a place and clean your shoes.”

“Okay, okay.”

The botanical garden had public taps. Song Jiannian took out wet wipes from her bag and went to the nearby tap to clean her shoes.

Chen Yuan sat nearby, admiring the garden’s scenery while watching Song Jiannian.

The shadow slanted across the path behind them, the edge of her white socks dusted with drifting dandelions and catching Chen Yuan’s stolen glances.

Uncle Zhang came over to help but was waved off by Song Jiannian and then walked toward Chen Yuan.

“Student, want some water?”

“Thanks, Uncle Zhang.”

After handing over the water, Uncle Zhang stayed and began chatting with Chen Yuan.

“I heard you’re in the same year as our young lady.”

“Yes, but different departments.”

“She hasn’t had many friends all these years; you’re the first,” Uncle Zhang said sentimentally.

“She is a bit introverted. Hopefully, university life will help. Her roommates seem to take good care of her.”

“I’ve met all her roommates; they’re all very kind people.”

“Hmm.”

Chen Yuan nodded, sensing that Uncle Zhang’s chat had an agenda—it felt like an old father testing the new boy.

Uncle Zhang took a cigarette from his pocket and offered one to Chen Yuan.

“Thanks, Uncle Zhang, but I don’t smoke.”

“Not many young people don’t these days.”

“I smoked a few in high school to look cool but stopped to avoid addiction.”

“People say smoking is addictive, but I smoke every day and don’t feel addicted.”

...

Thanks to readers “Wang Chu” and “Tonight’s Heavy Rain” for their generous rewards. Much appreciated.