Chapter 13: Li Ran (1)

The car quickly arrived at the airport. Leng Mohan went to handle the boarding procedures, while Mrs. Leng pulled Lin Yan aside to share several precautions. Before parting, she slipped a note into Lin Yan’s hand, saying mysteriously, “These are some folk remedies I found. They’re said to be very effective. You should try them—there’s no harm in it. Even if they don’t help with conception, they’ll strengthen your health.”

As she spoke, Mrs. Leng gently touched Lin Yan’s cheek with a hint of tenderness. “You’re just too thin. It’s not good for bearing children.”

Lin Yan felt a bit embarrassed; her mother-in-law couldn’t stop talking about childbirth.

Once Leng Mohan finished the formalities, he glanced at his watch and told Mrs. Leng, “Mom, it’s about time. I’ll bring Yan Yan back to Qingyuan for the New Year.”

Only then did Mrs. Leng release Lin Yan’s hand and walk toward the boarding hall.

Lin Yan smiled and waved in her mother-in-law’s departing direction, then stared blankly at the note clenched in her hand. She unfolded it and glanced at the densely written words.

She couldn’t understand them—never having grasped medical jargon, let alone deciphering a doctor’s handwriting.

“What’s that?” Leng Mohan glanced at the note in her hand.

“A prescription,” Lin Yan said, casting a quick look at Leng Mohan. Her lips curled into a faint, teasing smile. “Mom said that from now on, both you and I have to drink this. She wants Ye Ye to keep an eye on us while we take it. It’s probably something very bitter.”

Leng Mohan’s lips twitched into a smile, his eyes softening with delight. Yan Yan hadn’t spoken to him like this in a long time; it brought a lively spark back to her. Since their marriage, she had been obedient and diligent in playing the role of a good wife, but she had grown distant, no longer laughing and teasing with him as before.

Lin Yan had always feared bitterness; she loved sweetness. Leng Mohan, on the other hand, preferred things slightly bitter—black coffee, strong tea—rarely indulging in her beloved milk tea.

But she never knew this. She never knew.

When they were children, because she loved milk tea and mung bean cakes, she would always save some for him. He would eat it all happily, so she thought he disliked bitterness as much as she did—that he craved sweetness too.

Leng Mohan said nothing, smiling contentedly as he turned and walked toward the airport’s exit. Lin Yan stared at his back in surprise. Why did he have no reaction at all?

She stood there dazed until Leng Mohan turned and said to her, “Still not coming? Do you want to stay here for lunch?”

“Oh, oh!” Lin Yan hurried to catch up with his pace.

Leng Mohan said something to the driver, who promptly turned the car around. Leng Mohan opened the door, ushered Lin Yan inside, then took the driver’s seat himself.

The car followed the national highway, but the direction didn’t seem to lead home; instead, the surroundings grew increasingly desolate. Only then did Lin Yan finally ask, “Where are we going?”

Leng Mohan put down the newspaper he had been reading and looked at Lin Yan. “If I’m not mistaken, I told you this morning that you’d accompany me to a gathering.”

“Ah? Now?” Lin Yan blinked at him. “I thought it was in the evening.”

In her memory, such gatherings were always held at night. Why would they go so early?

“Who told you that?” Leng Mohan asked, reaching out to pinch her delicate nose as he watched her puzzled expression.