141: Chapter 141 Kissing While Walking in the Park

An old lady was holding onto an old man's arm, walking very slowly, as if they had been walking together for a lifetime.

Ye Xueying glanced at them, and suddenly felt a bit envious.

Wang Yang also glanced over, but didn't say anything.

The two walked to the bench, and Wang Yang stopped.

"Sit for a while?"

Ye Xueying nodded.

They sat down, with a fist-sized distance between them.

The night breeze blew over, carrying the chill of the twelfth lunar month, causing her hair to flutter gently.

She reached out to tuck it behind her ear, her fingers trembling slightly.

Wang Yang leaned back against the bench, hands tucked into his coat pockets, his gaze fixed ahead.

In the distance, there was a young couple; the woman was leaning on the man's shoulder, and the man had his arm around her waist.

The two were whispering something, and the woman laughed, her laughter soft, like wind brushing over the surface of a lake.

Ye Xueying took a look, then quickly looked away.

Her fingers tapped lightly on her knees, and her heart skipped a few extra beats.

"Brother Yang."

"Hm?"

Ye Xueying bit her lip.

"What... do you usually like to do?"

Wang Yang thought for a moment.

"Driving. Eating. Sleeping."

Ye Xueying was stunned for a moment, then laughed.

"That's too simple."

Wang Yang also laughed.

"Simpler is better. It's tiring when things are too complicated."

Ye Xueying nodded without saying anything.

The two fell silent again.

The air was filled with an indescribable atmosphere.

It wasn't the scent of flowers or grass, but that subtle, lingering ambiguity that arises when two people sit together.

Wang Yang turned his head to look at Ye Xueying.

The light fell on her face, her skin translucent and fair, her nose bridge straight, and her eyelashes long and slightly curled.

Her lips were pursed, her lower lip bitten until it turned pale, and her fingers were twisting on her knees, twisting and releasing, releasing and twisting again.

"Xueying."

"Hm?"

Ye Xueying looked up, meeting his gaze, and her heart skipped a beat.

Wang Yang looked at her, a smile on his lips.

"What are you nervous about?"

Ye Xueying shook her head.

"No, I'm not nervous..."

Wang Yang laughed.

"If you're not nervous, why are you trembling?"

Ye Xueying looked down at her hands, and they were indeed trembling.

Her face flushed, and she tucked her hands into her coat pockets, keeping her head down, not daring to look at him.

Wang Yang looked at her appearance, and his heart softened.

He reached out, slowly moving toward the hand she had placed on her knee.

His fingertips lightly brushed against the back of her hand.

Ye Xueying shuddered, as if she had been electrocuted, and froze completely.

She didn't dodge or move, just froze there, her fingers slightly curled, her knuckles turning white.

Wang Yang didn't pull his hand back; his fingertips paused on the back of her hand for a moment before slowly sliding over to cover it.

His hand was large and warm, his palm pressing against her fingers like a ball of gentle fire.

Ye Xueying's heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to jump out of her throat, and her breathing was as rapid as if she had just finished a marathon.

Her face flushed from her cheeks to her earlobes, from her earlobes to her neck, and from her neck to her collarbone.

She didn't dare look at him, keeping her head down, staring at her own hand, staring at that large hand covering hers.

Her mind was a blank; she couldn't think of anything.

Wang Yang's fingers slowly curled, gripping her hand.

Her hand was small and soft, her fingertips ice-cold, and her palm full of sweat.

He squeezed gently, then loosened a little, then tightened again.

It was as if he were testing, or perhaps confirming.

Ye Xueying didn't struggle, nor did she pull her hand back.

She just kept her head down, biting her lip, her eyelashes trembling like butterfly wings.

Wang Yang spoke, his voice very soft.

"Your hands are so cold."

Ye Xueying didn't say anything.

Wang Yang turned her hand over, palm facing up.

He interlaced his fingers with hers, fingers locked together.

Ye Xueying's breathing stopped for half a beat.

She could feel the strength in his fingers—not heavy, not light, just enough to hold her.

Her fingers trembled slightly between his, like a little bird with its wings held.

"Brother Yang..."

Her voice was trembling, like a leaf in the wind.

Wang Yang looked at her.

"Hm?"

Ye Xueying looked up, met his gaze, and then quickly lowered her head again.

"No, nothing..."

Her voice grew softer and softer, until it completely faded away.

Wang Yang laughed, his laughter soft, like wind brushing over the surface of a lake.

His hand held hers, not letting go.

The two sat there just like that, hand in hand, neither of them speaking.

The night breeze blew over, causing her hair to flutter gently, a few strands brushing against his arm, ticklish.

The young couple in the distance had already left, and the old couple was gone too.

The park was very quiet, with only the sound of the wind through the treetops and the sound of their intertwined breathing.

Ye Xueying's heart rate slowly calmed down a bit, but her face was still red, and her ears were still burning.

She stole a glance at Wang Yang; he was looking ahead, a smile on his lips, the lines of his profile very handsome.

The corners of her mouth slowly curled up too.

Wang Yang sensed her gaze and turned his head to look at her.

Ye Xueying was caught red-handed, her face turned even redder, and she hurriedly lowered her head.

Wang Yang laughed.

"Peeking at me?"

Ye Xueying shook her head, then nodded, then shook her head again.

Wang Yang was amused by her and reached out to gently pinch her cheek.

"If you want to look, just look; I don't charge a fee."

Ye Xueying's face flushed so red it felt like it was burning, and she buried her face in her coat collar, not daring to look at him.

Wang Yang let go of her hand and stood up.

Ye Xueying was stunned for a moment and looked up at him.

Wang Yang reached out his hand, offering it to her.

"Get up. Let's walk."

Ye Xueying looked at his hand, hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand into his.

Wang Yang gripped her hand and pulled her up.

The two stood up, facing each other, standing very close.

Ye Xueying kept her head down, not daring to look at him.

Wang Yang didn't let go, holding her hand as they walked slowly along the path.

Their shadows overlapped under the streetlights, indistinguishable from one another.

Ye Xueying walked beside him, her hand held by his; her heart was still beating fast, but she wasn't as flustered as before.

Her palms were no longer cold, warmed by his grip.

The two walked a circle and returned to the bench.

Wang Yang stopped and looked at her.

Ye Xueying looked up, meeting his gaze.

The light fell on her face; her eyes were bright, as if hiding stars.

Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing soft and rapid.

Wang Yang slowly leaned toward her.

Ye Xueying's heart raced again; she knew what was about to happen, but she didn't dodge.

Her feet were as if nailed to the ground, unmoving.

Wang Yang's nose tip touched hers, his breath brushing against her face, warm and carrying a crisp, clean scent.

"Xueying."

"Hm..."

Her voice was as small as a mosquito's hum.

Wang Yang's lips landed gently on hers.

It wasn't a heavy kiss, but a light touch, like a feather landing on the surface of water.

Ye Xueying's mind exploded with a buzz.

She was like someone who had been acupunctured, frozen there, unmoving.

She could feel the temperature of his lips, soft and warm, like a marshmallow.