The White Olive Tree

Chapter 32

The last day of February arrived, and the weather remained cold. The nighttime temperature was below 2 degree, chilling to the bone in the damp Liangcheng.

Song Ran's ground-floor apartment, originally cool and comfortable in the summer, now felt exceptionally cold in this season.

Opening the door and stepping inside, Song Ran was followed by Li Zan, who stood on the doorstep, glancing around.

Song Ran said in a hoarse voice, "The floor is made of cement; you don't need to change shoes."

Li Zan swept a glance inside the house and asked, "Do you live alone?"

"Yeah. This is my grandparents' house. They've both passed away."

Song Ran put down her bag and immediately turned on the electric heater and said, "You can warm up by the fire; I'll go wash my face."

Although she wasn't crying anymore, tear stains were still visible on her face.

Li Zan nodded and said, "Sure."

After taking a few steps, Song Ran turned back and saw him still standing in the same spot, looking somewhat absent-minded. She pointed to the sofa, "Go ahead and sit."

"Okay." He walked over.

Song Ran went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and when she looked up, she saw her swollen and red eyes in the mirror. It was a pitiful sight.

When she came out, Li Zan was sitting on the sofa, slightly hunched over, warming himself by the fire.

His elbows were resting on his knees, and his hands— symmetrical and slender, casually flipped on the heater. The firelight reflected on his fingers, displaying the rosy color of his flesh. His face also glowed with a warm red light, but within that calm expression, there was an indescribable sense of loneliness.

Song Ran thought that perhaps in these past six months, when she hadn't faced the mirror or anyone else, she might have worn a similar expression.

Song Ran walked over and sat on the small sofa beside him, also hunching her body to warm herself by the fire. There was a certain distance between their hands, not too close, yet not too far.

After a while inside the house, their bodies were still chilly, and the cold had not yet dissipated.

She asked, "Did you wait long?"

"A little while," he said. "Your phone couldn't be reached."

"It's out of battery."

"Mm."

"Why did you come over today?"

"That case. I think what you said might be right."

"But you were right too. Wang Han deceived me... or rather, fabricated one percent of the facts."

They were both right, yet both wrong. At this moment, it seemed they didn't want to delve deep into this issue, as if reaching an unspoken agreement.

There were more words they wanted to say.

Sitting at a right angle to each other, both stared at the fireplace. Their hands were fidgeting and flipping, revealing a slight sense of instability within.

Finally, he looked at her and said, "Go get some water."

"Mm?"

Li Zan said, "Your voice sounds a bit hoarse."

Just cried.

Song Ran hesitated for a moment, realizing that her throat was dry, scratchy, and painful. She got up and went to the kitchen, preparing two cups of warm water and handing one to Li Zan.