nashuaworldcup Chapter 241 My name is Lin Yue
Chapter 241 My name is Lin Yue
For someone born and raised in Guangdong Province, leaving the province means entering the North.
And places like Nanjiang, where it takes more than twenty hours to get there by train.
That is undoubtedly the far north of the north.
Others might worry about traveling far away, but Song Huan breathed a sigh of relief.
I finally escaped from home.
Song Huan has been introverted since childhood. Song Wentao and Zhang Xuejuan didn't know why, and even suspected that Song Huan might have some kind of mental illness.
Only Song Huan herself knew that in this family, poor academic performance was the original sin.
He also considered making changes.
Sometimes I practice smiling in front of the mirror and saying "hello" to the air, but as soon as I leave the room, I forget all those practices.
He stopped practicing after that.
Some things seem to be predetermined from birth.
The hospital said that Song Huan was not mentally ill, but had become withdrawn and had low self-esteem due to long-term excessive stress.
His father, Song Wentao, was an official and never allowed him to relax in the slightest.
They have to get up at six o'clock every day to memorize their lessons, and they are not allowed to go to bed before midnight. Their weekends are filled with tutoring classes and competition classes.
If he lost focus even slightly, Song Wentao would give him a cold scolding: "My son, Song Wentao's son, can't be so useless."
If you don't rank among the top students in your grade, all your entertainment will be confiscated, and you'll be locked in your room to reflect on your actions, not even allowed to leave the room.
His mother, Zhang Xuejuan, was uneducated, yet she placed all her hopes on him.
The first thing they ask about when the food is served is your grades. Watching TV or playing on your phone is strictly forbidden. You have to copy the wrong answers dozens of times. They keep repeating, "You have to get into a top university. Otherwise, what will people think of your dad and me? My reputation depends on you for the rest of my life."
She would secretly rummage through his schoolbag and look at his notes. If she found him not paying attention at all, she would cry and wail, saying that she was miserable.
No one asked him if he was tired; they only asked if his score was high enough.
The constant surveillance, coercion, and lecturing made Song Huan feel like she was making a mistake even when she was breathing.
Gradually, Song Huan's personality changed.
She became sensitive, insecure, and introverted.
He didn't know who to blame—Song Wentao? Or Zhang Xuejuan?
However, what breaks the hearts of all children in the world is...
Parents, you're doing this for your own good!
In the end, I can only blame myself...
Song Huan has never had many friends. The only person she could call a friend, Xiao Yunqing, has not been in contact with her for many years.
Although I only got into Nanjiang University of Science and Technology, a second-tier university.
But Song Huan was already very satisfied.
As long as I can get away from home and my parents can't control me, that's fine!
Freshmen have a lot of classes, from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m., similar to senior year of high school.
Song Huan was quite diligent back then. She sat in the front row during class, took neat and tidy notes, and even managed to get a scholarship in the final exam.
But that won't work in sophomore year.
With fewer classes, people have become lazier, living a monotonous life between the classroom, the cafeteria, and the dormitory.
If you can lie down, don't sit; if you can sit, don't stand.
However, there is one exception.
He will definitely attend Su Wanqing's class.
No matter how far the classroom was, no matter how windy or rainy it was outside, he would silently walk to the back row, sit down, open his textbook, stare at the blackboard, but glance at the back of the person with a low ponytail in the front row.
Su Wanqing was his senior, in the same department as him, also studying computer science.
She is good-looking, with fair skin, delicate features, and two shallow dimples when she smiles.
She had excellent grades, received scholarships every year, and was even named one of the "Top Ten Outstanding Students on Campus".
She was nicknamed "Computer Goddess".
Song Huan remembers it very clearly.
On the first day of his freshman year, he stood at the school gate with his suitcase, watching people come and go, not knowing which way to go.
A girl walked over from the side, wearing a white T-shirt, with her hair tied in a low ponytail, and holding a stack of freshman registration guides.
"Are you a freshman? Which department are you in?"
She glanced at his acceptance letter. "Computer Science? In the same department as me. Come on, I'll show you around."
She took his suitcase and walked ahead.
Song Huan followed behind, watching her hair being blown by the wind, and her heart skipped a beat.
He later learned that her name was Su Wanqing, and that she was his senior in the computer science department.
Later, he joined the computer association, also because of her.
Because Song Huan is from Guangdong Province, she has an accent when she speaks Mandarin, which has often made her the target of ridicule from her classmates.
Song Huan couldn't even lift her head at school back then, and she didn't dare to speak.
It was Su Wanqing who stood up for him and drove away those classmates who were mocking his accent.
From that moment on, Su Wanqing became his ideal woman.
The kind that is desirable but unattainable.
My roommates all saw it.
The third brother, Li Yang, was the most gossipy. He lay on the top bunk, sticking his head down.
"Song Huan, do you like Su Wanqing?"
Song Huan didn't say anything, but her ears turned red.
Wang Gang, the fourth brother, came out of the toilet, wiping his hands.
"There are plenty of people who like Su Wanqing; the line could stretch all the way to the school gate."
Zhang Li, the eldest brother, leaned against the headboard, legs crossed, and said, "You know what, with Su Wanqing's looks and figure, which guy wouldn't feel something?"
Li Yang chuckled, "So you like it too?"
Zhang Li threw the pillow at him and said, "Get out."
Li Yang dodged away, then lay back down by the bed and looked at Song Huan.
"But honestly, Song Huan, you have no chance."
Wang Gang draped a towel over the back of the chair, nodded, and said, "He's not tall, not handsome, not funny, and his family is poor. What makes him worthy of Su Wanqing?"
Song Huan lowered her head and didn't say anything.
He knew, he knew everything.
He sometimes wonders what it would be like if he were a different person.
The kind of person who can joke around, takes initiative, and is likable...
Will everything be different?
But he only thought about it; he couldn't become that kind of person.
But I just couldn't resist.
It's not that he didn't try.
He worked diligently and conscientiously in the computer association.
They volunteered to do all the dirty and tiring work, from carrying water and tables to moving chairs.
Su Wanqing is the president of the association, and she always contacts him on QQ whenever there is a task.
"Song Huan, are you free tomorrow afternoon at 2 PM to move tables in the Planning Association activity room?"
"I'm free, I'm free."
He replied quickly, as if afraid she might change her mind.
The next day, he arrived on time, moving tables, chairs, and water, sweating profusely.
Su Wanqing stood to the side and said to everyone, "Look at Song Huan, this is what a boy should be like!"
Song Huan stood there, her back straight, a proud smile on her face.
They chatted from freshman year to sophomore year, and it seemed like they had gotten even closer.
Song Huan discovered that Su Wanqing's family seemed to be poor, and sometimes they didn't have money to buy lipstick, bags, or clothes.
His monthly living expenses are not much, only seven hundred, and if he spends it frugally, he can save four or five hundred.
He ate steamed buns and instant noodles, and transferred the money he saved to her.
"Senior Su, I've transferred the money to your bank card. Go buy some clothes. It's getting cold lately, don't let yourself get cold."
"Thank you so much, junior. I'll definitely pay you back when I start my internship."
"Oh, no need, no need."
He replied quickly.
Su Wanqing fell silent again.
He thought to himself, "She must feel embarrassed about owing me a favor."
The second semester of my sophomore year.
In the afternoon, Li Yang ran in from outside, pushed open the dormitory door, and spoke in a high-pitched and loud voice.
"Song Huan! Su Wanqing is wearing the dress you bought her, strolling around the food street!"
Wang Gang sat up in bed. "Weren't you going to confess your feelings today? Hurry up and do it!"
Zhang Li put down his book as well. "Yeah, you're definitely in for a surprise today!"
The three of them started chattering and pulled Song Huan up from the chair, shoving a bouquet of flowers into his hand.
Eleven red roses, wrapped in pink paper and tied with a ribbon.
This was bought through crowdfunding by my roommates.
Song Huan held the bouquet of flowers, her palms sweating, her heart pounding.
"Wait for my good news!"
He took a deep breath and walked out of the dormitory amidst applause.
The most meaningful thing about a boy giving flowers is that he gets to experience the stares of passersby as he walks down the street holding the flowers.
That feeling was probably like this: the weather was beautiful that day, and I was carrying flowers on my way to see you. People on the street turned around to look at me and the flowers in my hands.
There were elderly people, white-collar workers, and children.
But I can't remember what they looked like.
All I remember is that you're almost here, I'm about to see you, the one I long to see.
Song Huan hurried through the playground, the teaching building, and the tree-lined path.
He could almost see himself holding flowers, kneeling on one knee.
Su Wanqing looked surprised at first, then said emotionally, "Junior Song, do you know how long I've been waiting for you to say that?"
It can succeed.
We will definitely succeed!
She's wearing the dress I bought for her, doesn't that mean she likes me?
With that thought in mind, he quickened his pace.
The food street is not long, but it is lined with stalls on both sides, selling barbecue, milk tea, and fried noodles.
There were many people, and they were jostling around.
Song Huan spotted Su Wanqing at a glance.
She stood in front of a milk tea stall, wearing a light blue dress with the hem slightly above her knees.
Song Huan bought it for her!
Her hair was down, draped over her shoulders, and blown by the wind.
very nice.
But Song Huan didn't notice that there was another person next to her.
"Senior Su!"
He ran over, holding the flowers, and stood in front of her.
Su Wanqing turned around and paused for a moment.
Students and shopkeepers nearby all looked over; some laughed, some made a fuss, and some took out their phones to take pictures.
Song Huan handed out the flowers, her hands trembling, her whole body shaking.
"Senior Su, I like you. I've liked you since the first day of freshman year. You helped me into the school, carried my suitcase, you..."
His voice trembled, and his eyes burned.
"Wanqing, who is this kid?"
A voice cut in from the side, neither warm nor cold.
Song Huan was stunned.
A tall boy, over 1.8 meters, walked out of the crowd. He was wearing a black T-shirt and had a very expensive-looking watch on his wrist.
She's good-looking, with defined features, a high nose bridge, and a smile on her lips.
But that kind of smile wasn't a friendly smile; it was a condescending smile.
He walked over to Su Wanqing and put his hand on her shoulder.
Song Huan knew him.
Zhao Yuan, a junior in college, is tall, rich, and handsome. His family runs a business, and he has dated quite a few girls at school.
Someone on the school wall called him a scumbag, saying he changed girlfriends faster than he changed clothes.
Song Huan's pupils trembled slightly.
Impossible, absolutely impossible!
Su Wanqing looked at Song Huan with no expression on her face.
She simply uttered three words.
"I don't know him."
do not know.
She actually said she didn't know him.
Song Huan stood there, holding the flowers, her hands hanging down.
The flower is still being held, but it can't be held high anymore.
The people around were still laughing, still making noise, and still taking pictures.
He couldn't hear anything anymore.
At that moment, he suddenly remembered himself practicing smiling in front of the mirror a long time ago.
The boy said "hello" to the mirror, over and over again, in a very soft voice, afraid that his father in the living room would hear him.
Later, when he walked out of the room and saw his father's face, the word "hello" stuck in his throat and never came out again.
He suddenly felt that he was more pitiful than the person he was when he was practicing smiling in front of the mirror, standing in the crowd holding flowers.
Zhao Yuan smiled, but it was a very faint smile, as if he hadn't smiled at all.
He stepped forward, leaned close to Song Huan's ear, and whispered, "I know you. You're the simp junior Wan Qing was talking about, right?"
He patted Song Huan on the shoulder, like he was patting a child, "Sorry, you've been trying to win me over for two years, but I only took care of it in two months."
He took a step back and burst into laughter.
The laughter was loud and echoed throughout the street.
Song Huan's face turned pale.
My lips were trembling, my hands were trembling, and my legs were trembling.
Su Wanqing frowned, tugging at Zhao Yuan's sleeve, "Alright, let's go quickly."
"Yes, let's go." Zhao Yuan put his arm around Su Wanqing's shoulder, turned around, and left.
He took two steps, glanced back at Song Huan, and smiled provocatively.
Song Huan stood there, holding the bouquet of flowers, in the middle of the crowd.
People around him were still watching him; some were whispering, and some were laughing.
He felt that he was the most ridiculous and pathetic person in the world.
Is there anyone more pitiful than myself?
"Oh, you're something else!"
Suddenly a voice rang out from behind, sharp and bright, like a knife cutting through the noise of the crowd.
"I've only ignored you for a few days, and you're already eyeing all sorts of flashy, cheap women?"
A pair of high heels clicked on the concrete as she walked in from outside the crowd. "I can tell you're really hungry!"
Song Huan turned around.
A woman stood in front of him.
She was wearing a black halter dress with a very short hem, revealing her two long, white legs.
Her hair was wavy and draped over her shoulders, and it was dyed brown.
Her face was heavily made up, with her eyeliner pointing upwards and her lips painted bright red.
very beautiful.
But that kind of beauty is different from Su Wanqing's.
Su Wanqing is pure, clean, and aloof.
She is intense, flamboyant, and prickly.
He stood there, like a ball of fire.
The people around were stunned; some swallowed hard, while others stared with their mouths agape.
She walked up to Song Huan, reached out, and took the bouquet of flowers from his hand.
He glanced down and pursed his lips.
"Rose? Eleven? Is this a confession or a funeral? Giving flowers to a woman like this is worse than throwing them in the trash."
She tossed the flowers aside, and the bouquet fell to the ground, scattering a few petals.
Then she took Song Huan's arm and pressed herself against him.
Her hands were cold, and her nails were painted with red nail polish.
She leaned close to Song Huan's ear and spoke in a low voice, but loud enough for those nearby to hear.
"Come with me."
Su Wanqing stood not far away, watching this scene, and frowned slightly.
Zhao Yuan watched, and the smile on his lips disappeared.
The woman suddenly turned her head, looked at Su Wanqing, and sized her up. "Oh, is this the woman you were talking about?"
She smiled, a very faint smile, as if she were looking at something worthless.
"They're not that great, all talk and no action. Would they even look good without makeup?"
Su Wanqing blushed.
"you!"
The woman ignored her and pulled Song Huan away.
The high heels clicked and clacked on the concrete floor at a fast pace.
Song Huan stumbled as she was pulled along.
"Who...who are you?"
The woman didn't turn around.
"Who cares who I am? Anyway, I'm better than that woman you're licking."
She led Song Huan through the snack street and onto the bustling main road.
She didn't stop until she reached a deserted alley, let go of his hand, and turned around.
The streetlights shone on her face, revealing her heavy makeup, but there was a light in her eyes that was hard to describe.
She looked at Song Huan for two seconds, then suddenly smiled.
"Are you stupid? That kind of woman isn't worth your licking boots?"
Song Huan didn't say anything.
She took out a pack of cigarettes from her bag, pulled one out, and lit it.
I took a drag, and the smoke dissipated under the streetlights.
"My name is Lin Yue." She looked at Song Huan, her eyebrows slightly raised.
"Got it?"
Song Huan stood there, watching the smoke rise from her mouth and be dispersed by the wind.
Song Huan doesn't like girls who smoke, but for some reason, she can't bring herself to hate them right now.
He nodded. "I've got it."
"What's your name?"
"Song Huan".
When he said his name, his voice was a little louder than before.
It wasn't because of confidence, but because he suddenly felt that in front of this woman who had appeared out of nowhere, he didn't have to speak in a low voice as usual.
This feeling is very unfamiliar.
He thought about it for a long time before he remembered.
The last time I had this feeling was when I was very, very young, before my father scolded me to the point that I dared not look up.
Song Huan, Lin Yue...
Lin Yue suddenly chuckled softly. The two names were quite a coincidence, both implying happiness.