Volume One, Chapter Five: The Artistic Flair

Li Cheng rode the only 28-inch bicycle in Wangchuankou, carrying Chen Yang as they headed toward the sent-down youth settlement.

At that moment, all the sent-down youth had finished their meal, and four or five young men had gathered in front of the female dormitory.

This was their daily routine—a chance to show off a little, hoping to catch the attention of the girls they admired.

Among them, the most beautiful was Huang Zhiyao, undoubtedly the goddess in the hearts of these young men.

Although the news of yesterday’s incident had already spread here, the boys refused to believe it.

To them, such a thing was simply impossible.

Chen Yang was a good-for-nothing; no respectable girl would ever look at someone like him.

So, they continued to shower Huang Zhiyao with their attentions—proof that sycophants exist in every era.

One of the boys, sporting curly hair parted at four-six, dressed quite stylishly, hugged a kapok guitar and sang “Kangding Love Song” with an air of flamboyance.

In those days, a kapok guitar—commonly called a folk guitar—usually cost around two to three hundred yuan. Coupled with that fashionable hairstyle, it was clear he came from a well-off family.

“Brother Yang, that Ma Junkai fellow definitely wants to get with Huang Zhiyao!” Li Cheng warned from the saddle as he pedaled, hinting that Chen Yang had a rival.

“Could you please not speak so crudely? We’re all civilized people!” Chen Yang retorted.

Li Cheng stuck out his tongue in response.

Most kids in the village were considered civilized, except for Chen Yang—because he truly didn’t deserve the title.

Who else would sneak around with him, peeping on women while they bathed, and still claim to be civilized?

“A worthy opponent, huh? Can you handle him?”

Joking aside, Li Cheng believed that Huang Zhiyao should belong to Chen Yang; no one else deserved her.

“He’s just a punk. If I can’t win against him, then how do I plan to marry Zhiyao? Just watch!” Chen Yang declared as he jumped off the back of the bike.

Carrying a basket of chicken soup and other things, he called out loudly in front of the female dormitory: “Wifey, I’m here to deliver your things!”

His sudden shout startled Ma Junkai and the others, who had been singing love songs with deep emotion.

“Who could that be? Oh, it’s just you, the good-for-nothing. What’re you doing here?”

Ma Junkai hadn’t slept well all night after hearing the news.

They only worked half a day today, so seeing Chen Yang made him especially jealous.

Strumming his guitar, he and a few other sent-down youths approached.

“I’m here to see my wife. What’s it to you? Wifey, I brought you chicken soup.”

Chen Yang ignored him completely and continued shouting inside.

The girls resting within naturally heard Chen Yang’s voice.

“That sounds like our Yangzi. Zhiyao, he’s here for you,” said Chen Ying, Huang Zhiyao’s close friend, who hadn’t gone home these past few days, staying by her side in case she lost hope.

Huang Zhiyao’s expression darkened upon hearing Chen Yang’s name.

If she had any say, she wouldn’t agree to marry such a good-for-nothing.

“Zhiyao, you should go out and see him. If he keeps shouting like this, who knows how many people it might attract?” suggested Song Qian, another female sent-down youth, and the others nodded in agreement.

Reluctantly, Huang Zhiyao rose and stepped out of the dormitory.

There stood Chen Yang, shouting at the top of his lungs, carrying a pile of items.

Honestly, the guy was quite handsome, but that seemed to be his only redeeming quality.

“Stop shouting! Who said you’re my husband? Have some shame!”

Chen Ying glared fiercely at Chen Yang; if he weren’t her own brother, she would have scratched his obnoxious face to pieces.

“Of course it’s Zhiyao! After everything we’ve been through, what else could she be if not my wife? Heh heh, Zhiyao, you’ve been worn out lately—here’s some chicken soup I made to help you recover. And these are things I bought for you in the county today.”

With that, Chen Yang eagerly handed over everything he had brought.

“Let me see what you’ve got.”

“Wow, a dress, snow cream, sandals!”

“Oh my God, even peach cookies! Zhiyao, you’re so lucky!”

It was clear that every era had its sycophants, and also friends like these mischievous girlfriends.

The girls eagerly took the gifts and examined each item.

Chen Ying looked at her little brother in disbelief—had he spent all the family savings trying to win over Huang Zhiyao? How would they survive from now on?

“Chen Yang, what do you mean by this?”

Huang Zhiyao was moved, but what exactly was he trying to do?

“Nothing much. You’re my wife. If I don’t treat you well, who else will? By the way, two days from now, at this very time, I’ll bring the betrothal gifts to formally propose. Just be prepared.”

Chen Yang smiled.

Huang Zhiyao was stunningly beautiful. To marry a wife like her wasn’t just about the family grave smoking green sprigs—it was as if their ancestral tomb had caught fire.

“Zhiyao, is everything this good-for-nothing says true? Are you really going to marry this bastard?” Ma Junkai asked, having believed the rumors were false until now, but with a proposal on the table, he had no choice but to accept the truth.

“Ma Junkai, watch your words. I am indeed going to marry him.”

Though Huang Zhiyao disliked Chen Yang, it didn’t mean she liked Ma Junkai.

Petty and sneaky, despite his good family background, he was certainly not a man worthy of her trust for life.

“Why? Why do this? What do I have that this good-for-nothing doesn’t? Are the rumors true? Did you sleep with him?” Ma Junkai’s emotions flared; he couldn’t understand why this was happening.

“What makes me any worse than you? Carrying a lousy guitar around, pretending to be all artistic? Can you even play it?” Chen Yang shot back and stepped forward, snatching the guitar from Ma Junkai’s hands.

“Zhiyao, not seeing you even for a day feels like a thousand years. My longing for you turns into this song.”

With that, Chen Yang’s nimble fingers moved over the strings, producing a melody that floated through the air.

In his previous life, guitar playing was Chen Yang’s specialty—this was his moment to show off.

“I dare not think of you at night, for fear it keeps me awake. Looking at my reflection, disheveled yet with tears hanging in my eyes, clearly hurting, yet unable to stop smiling.”

“Alright, I try to drown myself in drink, to sway and rock all night, thinking if I tire myself out, heaven won’t let you appear.”

“My longing for you each day surpasses ten thousand years on earth. I fly across thousands upon thousands of light-years, searching for an endpoint called forever...”

A love song none had ever heard before was brought to life by Chen Yang.

His magnetic voice captivated all the young women present.

“I wander between spring’s arrival and autumn’s departure, yet carry the entire winter deep within my heart!”

As he sang the final line, Huang Zhiyao’s eyes brightened.

Perhaps Chen Yang was not entirely without merit. At least in this moment, he briefly illuminated her heart…