Wen Hui suddenly ran into Yan Bin's arms.
Through two layers of coarse cloth, Wen Hui could feel that his arms were as hard as rocks under the mountain roots.
At first, she just thought it was a chance encounter with a good person.
She was so burned that she was about to fall down under the bridge. He half-armed her around the waist and carried her into the car.
Her cousin grabbed her arm in public and tried to drag her back to the village. He stood in front of her and was given a hard stick.
Teaching the abacus under the kerosene lamp, he stood behind her, his breath gently sweeping over the top of her hair.
In the latter half of the night at the state-run guest house, the mountain wind rattled the windows. He put his arm around her waist and said in a hoarse voice, "Come closer if it's cold."
All his tenderness is hidden in the unspoken things.
In the wind of the 1990s, the smell of diesel mixed with the incense of needlework was the romance of their lives...
