An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 57 "Huo Qingshan, did you see the fireworks?"

A slight smile played on her lips, a smile that seemed somewhat out of place for her age, yet undeniably beautiful. She abruptly changed the subject: "Were you very busy those few days in Ximing City?"

Upon hearing this, the man's dark eyes flickered slightly, and the doubt in his eyes instantly disappeared.

Meng Youyou didn't miss the subtle changes.

See? He actually knows everything.

"You know what? I regretted it as soon as I went upstairs that night. I regretted not asking for your phone number and not telling you to call me."

But I changed my mind the next second. I believed you would call back, so I resisted the urge to go downstairs.

From then on, I would try to stay in the office whenever I didn't have classes, because I was afraid I would miss your call.

Aside from the classroom and office, the place I frequented most during those days was the call center. I would ask them, 'Did any calls come in for me today? I was in class just now, so I might have missed them when you transferred me to the office.'

Go at least three times a day.

And without exception, their answer to me was always, "Not today."

On the fourth day, Xiao Xu from the call center said to me, "Translator Meng, are there any important calls coming in recently? You don't need to come here every day; it's a waste of your time. Don't worry, if you get a call, I'll definitely let you know immediately."

I never saw Xiao Xu again after that.

Huo Qingshan, are you really that busy?

But I clearly heard you calling Commander Wang in his office once to report on your work; even when you were far away in Ximing City, you didn't forget to communicate with Zhong Heng every day to adjust the sentry arrangements for that night; you even had time to go to the market and buy so many bracelets.

But you just didn't know to call me.

As she spoke, tears uncontrollably streamed down her face.

Meng Youyou doesn't want to cry.

She envisioned calmly narrating a man's effortless "detachment" and skillful "loss" within a relationship.

She hated the pathetic state of being trapped in love, and she despised herself as she was now.

It's foolish to shed tears for someone who doesn't care about you.

The man silently reached out and touched her cheek, wanting to wipe it away for her.

Meng Youyou turned her head away, wiped away her tears with her sleeve, and continued to ask, "Huo Qingshan, is it difficult for you to give your heart?"

After a few seconds of pause, as if making some kind of decision, she asked again, "What exactly are you... hesitating about?"

The pair of dark eyes opposite him were churning and shifting, sometimes bright and sometimes dim, as if they held many unspoken words. For several moments, they seemed about to burst forth, but the owner of those eyes remained silent throughout.

I received neither an answer nor the answer I wanted.

Meng Youyou's tone suddenly turned somewhat sarcastic: "I thought a man like Battalion Commander Huo could be so aloof? Turns out, he's just like that when a woman offers herself to him, he neither takes the initiative nor refuses... Ha, but he certainly doesn't put his heart into it either."

The last sentence was spoken in a very low voice, as if he were talking to himself.

Huo Qingshan closed his eyes, his breathing becoming slightly heavier, as if he was suppressing some kind of emotion.

After a long while, he opened his eyes, gently stroked her hair, and said softly as usual, "You're drunk. I'll take you home to sleep first. We can talk about it tomorrow."

It's like dealing with an unreasonable child.

This attitude infuriated Meng Youyou in an instant. She suddenly grabbed the man's face and pressed her lips against his without hesitation, her lips rubbing against his. Then she forcefully pried open his teeth and thrust her tongue deep inside, exploring and entwining it wantonly.

If you don't need to use your mouth to speak, then find an answer in your actions. Her hands slid from the man's face to his neck, holding him tightly, her body swaying slightly with the kiss, as if she wanted to pour all her passion into it.

She advances, he retreats; she goes left, he goes right, preventing her from succeeding.

After a long while, she slowly released her grip, her lips swollen and red, and asked him hesitantly, "Huo Qingshan, did you see the fireworks?"

The man was still trying to catch his breath when he was suddenly asked such a nonsensical question. He was a little confused and assumed that the woman was really drunk.

But I still answered, "Fireworks are not allowed near the camp at night."

Meng Youyou gave a self-deprecating smile. "They say that when two people in love kiss, fireworks go off in their minds. You didn't see it... What a coincidence, I didn't see it either."

His gaze gradually unfocused, drifting into the distance, and he muttered to himself, "Why is this happening?"

A question has become an answer.

Meng Youyou pushed open the car door and got out. The late autumn night wind was really cool, howling and sweeping in, instantly penetrating her thin clothes.

Meng Youyou couldn't help but shiver.

After she got out of the car, there was no further sound behind her, no surprises, no unexpected sounds of the car door opening or closing.

Everything was as expected.

Sometimes, being too accurate in your guesses isn't necessarily a good thing.

Betting he wouldn't care? ...And he guessed right.

It's like a joke.

The parking spot is some distance from the dormitory building.

Halfway there, she found a bench and sat down. Going back at this time would likely mean running into people, and she didn't want to see anyone. The tear stains on her eyes seemed endless, and she looked utterly pathetic.

The moon hung alone in the vast night sky, emitting a pale light. The sparse stars around it seemed to have been driven away by the autumn chill, and there were hardly any to be found.

The intoxication crept in unnoticed, yet she managed to fight it off in the cold night. A strong sense of dizziness once again dragged Meng Youyou into a chaotic vortex.

He leaned limply against the back of the bench, his brows furrowed, as if he were not at peace even in his dream.

A tall, dark figure slowly approached, its footsteps light and steady.

The man stopped in front of the bench, leaned down slightly, and gazed at the girl's sleeping face, his eyes filled with undisguised helplessness and tenderness.

He stretched out his arms and gently lifted the person off the bench, not daring to use too much force.

The man lowered his head and kissed her eyes, whispering, "Meng Youyou, how much of the you I see now is real?"

The person in his arms suddenly moved, avoiding his touch.

The man's breath hitched.

But a moment later, he simply moved his head a little closer to his chest, as if that would make his neck feel more comfortable.

Strands of hair lay loosely on the man's arm.

He adjusted his position as slightly as possible so that she could snuggle more comfortably, and then strode towards the dormitory building.

This chapter was really hard to write; it's probably the most emotionally complex chapter I've ever written. I'll probably revise it again tomorrow.

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