Chapter Thirty-Four: Poetry (Please Keep Reading)

"What's wrong?"

"It's about the poetry competition, I think. I remember Director Fang and Mr. Qi Gong saying last week that everyone has to submit a poem, regardless of whether they can write or not."

"Have you written yours?"

"I have. I feel like it's a bit of a stretch; not everyone has the talent to write poetry."

"Director Fang just said that as a suggestion. It’s not like you’re forced to write if you can’t, but it would be a bit embarrassing if everyone else submitted something and you didn't. It's not a big deal, though."

During the lunch break after school, the office building hallway was quite crowded.

...

"Thanks for the reminder, but you don't need to worry about whether I can write or not, Assistant Song."

Facing Song Jianming's thinly veiled sarcasm, Cheng Kaiyan couldn't be bothered to engage and spoke indifferently.

He had been too busy rushing his manuscript these past few days and had completely forgotten about the poetry competition.

He couldn't write poetry, but he could certainly copy it.

It would only take a minute or two.

"Then I shall wait for your masterpiece, Teacher Cheng. We are handing ours in now, so you’ll have to take yours to Director Fang yourself. We can’t wait for you; we don't want to hold up the process."

Song Jianming sneered inwardly. This Cheng Kaiyan was clearly reminding him that he was just an assistant and shouldn't overstep his bounds.

'Even if I am an assistant, I'm a permanent staff member! Unlike him, he's just a temp; it’s still uncertain if he’ll ever get a permanent position.'

Thinking this, Song Jianming walked away.

Lin Xiaoni closed the office door and said worriedly:

"If you don't know how to write one, why don't you copy mine? I wrote a few doggerel verses earlier..."

"You can write poetry?"

Cheng Kaiyan was stunned. This girl, who looked a bit simple and naive, could actually write poetry?

"Of course!"

Lin Xiaoni put her hands on her hips and giggled smugly.

She snatched a pen and began writing on a blank sheet of paper: "Winter cold, hugging the hearth fire, snow drifting outside the window... The cat sleeps in its nest, dreaming of jumping fish."

"How is it? It's perfect for just getting the task done!"

"I’ll give you an 82."

"That high? I thought I’d failed."

The girl widened her eyes, biting her nail in surprise, unsure if she had written something truly great or if the man in front of her had terrible taste.

"Do you know why it’s not a hundred?"

Cheng Kaiyan gave her a silent, blank look.

"Is it so I don't get arrogant?"

"No, the remaining eighteen points are sent to you in the form of a '666'."

"Uh..."

The girl finally understood, her freckled face puffing up in anger.

This guy was mean; he was indirectly saying her writing was trash.

"I'll write my own then. You can come collect it when you get off work this afternoon."

"Oh, okay..."

After some muttering, the two went to the canteen for lunch.

The canteen seemed to be having a New Year's promotion, or perhaps they were clearing out stock before the students left for winter break, offering a free side dish with every meal purchased.

The students were very enthusiastic; after all, most of them came from impoverished areas and wouldn't be able to eat such good, cheap food once they got home. Just having a full stomach was a blessing.

After eating, he bought an extra portion of food before returning to the office.

The office was quiet in the afternoon; the teachers had gone home to eat or nap, regardless of whether they had classes or not.

*Click.*

Stepping into the small office at the end of the hallway, a gentle breeze blew in from the window, causing the translucent curtains to sway.

The warm afternoon sun shone on the desk, reflecting a dazzling, golden light.

Since the New Year, the weather in the capital had become much milder, holding at around ten degrees, and even higher at noon.

However, he had heard on the radio yesterday that there would be another cold snap during the New Year.

"You're back?"

A clear, cold voice drifted over, and Cheng Kaiyan looked up.

Jiang Ting was sitting behind her desk wearing a gray coat, holding a pen and writing quietly.

"Yes, here is your meal—stir-fried pork with chili peppers, and they included a spiced egg."

Cheng Kaiyan handed over the lunchbox. Jiang Ting had gone to a meeting earlier and asked him to bring her a meal.

"How much?"

Jiang Ting opened the lunchbox. The heat from the container warmed her palms, and her heart felt a little warmer, too.

The woman looked at Cheng Kaiyan with her deep, dark, beautiful eyes.

After spending time together recently, their relationship had become increasingly harmonious.

Jiang Ting found it quite magical. Logically, someone as unsociable and cold-hearted as she was shouldn't have anyone choosing to get close after hitting a wall.

Yet, she got along surprisingly well with this nephew of hers. It was as if he possessed a unique temperament or a peaceful aura that made people want to be near him.

What Jiang Ting didn't know was that this was a habit Cheng Kaiyan had cultivated in his past life. After all, if an orphan wanted to live well, he had to be kind to others and make friends.

If his personality were aloof or strange, even if people felt sympathy, they would hesitate to help.

"Twenty cents."

Cheng Kaiyan, of course, had to collect the money. He wasn't her son; why wouldn't he charge her?

"Mm-hmm."

...

Jiang Ting was eating.

Cheng Kaiyan didn't have time to watch her; he sat at the side desk, working on his manuscript.

The poetry competition was organized by the school, and the prizes were quite generous—cash and various vouchers. It would be a waste not to take them.

"What are you writing? Is it that..."

"'Facing the sea, with spring flowers blossoming...'"

He finished copying it in a few minutes, stuffed it into an envelope, and began working on *Fragrant Grass*.

Since the plot had been planned out long ago, he wrote quickly.

In the office, one person read a book while the other buried their head in writing.

The quiet atmosphere felt like being curled up in bed on a cold winter day, reading until drowsiness set in and you drifted off to sleep on your side.

By the afternoon, the sun had shifted, and the office at the end of the hallway was no longer in the light, causing the temperature to drop abruptly.

"Achoo..."

Jiang Ting was only wearing a sweater. The cold seeped in like seawater through the hull of a ship, infiltrating her bones and bringing a chill that wound through the office like thin threads.

Only then did she glance at the delicate lady's watch on her wrist, realizing it was already past four o'clock.

She lowered her head slightly, glancing toward Cheng Kaiyan, who had been quiet for a long time, and noticed he was writing something with intense focus.

She had seen this scene often over the past few days, though she had never paid much attention to it.

She had only offered a few casual words of encouragement from the perspective of an elder.

She would then turn back to her own work without ever delving deeper or offering guidance; her time was far too precious.

But now, she felt a spark of interest, or perhaps she felt that their relationship had grown closer than before.

After all, there was no progress bar for human relationships; by the time you noticed, the relationship had already reached a critical point.

With this in mind, Jiang Ting pulled her coat tighter to ward off the chill and walked slowly to Cheng Kaiyan’s side, lowering her eyes to look at the text on the paper.

What met her eyes were rows of neat, elegant handwriting.

"Just like the child's appearance and temperament..." Jiang Ting couldn't help but think.

The script was truly beautiful—fresh, clear, well-structured, and generous, like a green lotus in a river.

She continued to read:

"'Xiaocao... your brother has to serve over four years of labor reform. Did he teach you to steal?'"

"The policewoman in a crisp uniform squatted down in front of the thinly dressed, ragged girl and asked."

"'No... he wouldn't even let me steal. Even when I grew up, he wouldn't let me... He said when I grow up I should study hard and not be like him...'"

Seeing this, Jiang Ting’s eyes trembled violently.