Chapter 847: 846 Ranran, I love you
After two in the afternoon,
Wen Ran and Mo Xiuchen finally arrived at their destination.
The fresh countryside air was even cooler than that of the city built of steel and concrete; under the sa sky, it didn’t possess the sa scorching heat. The breeze blowing past their ears carried a slight chill.
There was also a faint scent of flowers and grass, which was refreshing and pleasing to the soul.
With a relaxed expression amidst his handso features, Mo Xiuchen’s eyes shimred with curiosity. His smile, enchanting and captivating as he got out of the car, first took a sweeping glance at the villa before turning to Wen Ran, who had just erged from the car, and said with a smile, “Ranran, the air here is very good. It’s a nice place.”
With a playful smile and her eyebrows playfully raised, her tone was proud, “Of course it is, the place I bring you to, how could it be anything but nice?”
...
She stepped forward, opened the villa’s gate, and let Mo Xiuchen carry the bags into the living room, asking, “Mo Xiuchen, are you tired?”
“Not tired.”
Mo Xiuchen shook his head, his handso face brimming with an engaging smile.
Wen Ran said, beaming, “If you’re not tired, then let first show you the flower seedlings in the yard that I planted, and the tree seedlings planted by Qing Feng and Qing Yang, and Little Liu.”
“You planted them?”
Mo Xiuchen looked at Wen Ran with so surprise.
Wen Ran’s eyes sparkled as she t his gaze of pure curiosity, and an inexplicable sadness welled up in her heart. Rembering what he had said when he accompanied her here for a vacation, she pursed her lips and smiled again, “Mhm, I planted them myself. If everything goes well, they should flower next year.”
When Wen Ran had chosen the seedlings, she had specifically selected those that would bloom the following year—there were so that could flower within the current year, but she didn’t opt for them. She feared that enjoying the flowers alone would make her sad.
Perhaps sensing the fluctuation in her emotions, a trace of tenderness flashed in the depths of Mo Xiuchen’s eyes. His well-defined hand gently grasped Wen Ran’s, and his gaze settled tenderly on her, “Ranran, next year, I will enjoy the flowers with you.”
Wen Ran nodded vigorously, her face blossoming with a bright smile, “Let’s go, I’ll show you around.”
“Sure!”
Mo Xiuchen responded softly and left the living room with Wen Ran, letting her lead him by the hand to a small flower bed in the yard, which was planted with roses.
Mo Xiuchen counted. There were more than thirty plants in total, currently only leaves without buds, making it impossible for him to discern whether the seedlings were all of the sa variety or color.
After carefully observing for a few minutes, his grip on Wen Ran’s hand tightened slightly, and he shifted his gaze from the many seedlings back to Wen Ran, who was also looking up at him. He asked softly, “Ranran, were these seedlings planted a month ago?”
“Why one month and not six months ago?”
Instead of directly answering, Wen Ran countered his question, her eyes sparkling like water as she looked at Mo Xiuchen. In her heart, there was a small hope that this place might help him recall so of the past.
Mo Xiuchen’s eyes blinked, the corners of his lips slightly raised, as a smile appeared on his handso face.
“Ranran, these bricks must have been laid no more than two months ago, and although these seedlings are not small, they don’t seem as though they have grown for over a year. Furthermore, the soil also appears freshly turned. If I’m not mistaken, it should have been less than two months,” he concluded.
As he spoke, Mo Xiuchen’s gaze on Wen Ran deepened, locking onto her. Seeing her eyes flicker and several emotions flash across her face, he knew he had guessed correctly.
He then deduced that the ti coincided with his post-surgery recovery.
A smile spread across Wen Ran’s face as she forced a light-hearted tone, “Mo Xiuchen, you’re so impressive, being able to infer when the seedlings were planted based on these details.”
A pang of heartache surfaced in Mo Xiuchen’s eyes. His large hand gently caressed her cheek, the warmth and roughness of his fingertips stroking her skin, as he spoke in a low and tender voice, “Ranran, besides these clues, there was sothing you gave away.”
“What did I give away?”
Wen Ran blinked, puzzled.
She didn’t say anything just now, did she?
Mo Xiuchen chuckled softly, “You just said that you personally planted these seedlings, and those saplings over there were planted by Qing Feng, Qing Yang, and Little Liu.”
“Yeah, we planted them…”
Wen Ran finished speaking, then suddenly realized what he ant, and annoyed, she exclaid, “Hey, you’re too cunning.”
“Ranran, do you understand now? Actually, it was you who first leaked the information to , which allowed to guess.”
Mo Xiuchen smiled pleasantly.
Wen Ran pouted, “Alright, it was who leaked it to you.”
She moved his hand away, took a step forward, set her foot upon the brink of a brick, bent down, and reached out to straighten one of the flower seedlings that had been blown askew by the wind.
Mo Xiuchen stood behind her, gazing at her with a gentle smile in his eyes.
As she withdrew her hand, and put her foot down, suddenly, her waist tightened.
Her heart skipped a beat, her body stiffened.
Her back pressed against the chest of a man behind her, his arms passing around her waist, crossing over her abdon, and pulling her entirely into his embrace.
“Ranran, I wasn’t able to plant flowers with you, but next year, I will definitely watch the flowers with you.”
The voice that fell on her ear was deep and magnetic, tender and entwining, carrying with it the familiar, heart-stirring scent that reached straight to her heart.
Her heartbeat, after a mont’s pause, hamred uncontrollably against her ear drums.
Her body remained so rigid, not daring to move.
In her heart, it was unclear whether it was joy or sorrow; it seed as if countless emotions swept over like a tide, surging forth and then retreating all at once, leaving behind a tranquility in the end.
It was as if ti had co to a standstill.
After Mo Xiuchen spoke those words, he did not make another sound.
He just held her tenderly, his chin resting on the top of her head. As he breathed in, the faint scent of her hair filled him with bliss.
The air around them, having woven a thread of ambiguity since the mont Mo Xiuchen embraced Wen Ran from behind, fashioned a vast net that isolated them from the world in the flowing currents, keeping everything else out.
Just a few short minutes, yet for Wen Ran it felt like an emotional roller coaster of cataclysmic upheavals: panic, fear.
There was also anticipation, a restless stirring, and in the end, an irresistible approach towards this mont. With all her years of learning, she still couldn’t articulate her feelings.
“Ranran!”
In the end, it was Mo Xiuchen’s whisper that pulled her back from her chaotic thoughts.
She pursed her lips, slowly turned her head, and when her glassy eyes t those deep, passionate dark ones, her head was suddenly cupped by a large hand.
A shadow fell over her vision, followed by warmth on her lips; the man’s warm, thin lips pressed against her delicate ones.
“Ranran, I love you.”
The man’s murmur intertwined with the kiss in her heart, a warmth blood within her, and her lips parted involuntarily, wanting to say sothing. But he did not give her the chance to speak…
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