With nothing much to do, the two snuggled on the sofa to watch TV. Cheng Liao casually flipped through the channels, winking mischievously. "I hear some foreign channels are… you know."
But after searching through all the channels, she didn’t find any pay-per-view adult content.
Disappointed, she nuzzled into Sheng Jingchu’s neck. "Come on, be honest. Guys like you who travel for competitions all the time—have you ever watched those in a hotel?"
Sheng Jingchu thought about it seriously. "There’s no time to watch TV before a match."
"And after the match?"
"After the match, it’s straight to the airport to fly home."
Undeterred, Cheng Liao continued to coax him, questioning him about everything from adult channels to teenage dreams. In the end, she didn’t get any juicy details, and she fell asleep curled up in Sheng Jingchu’s arms.
He adjusted her position to make her more comfortable, using his hand as a pillow for her head.
Sheng Jingchu lacked Cheng Liao’s insatiable curiosity about everything around her. She was the kind of person who could spend hours observing an ant. His life had a clear divide marked by the moment he met Cheng Liao. Before her, his life was quiet, stable, and disciplined—black and white like the stones on a Go board. After she came into his life, it was like scattered embers, gradually connecting to form a wildfire that consumed him entirely, from head to toe, inside and out, body and soul.
He lowered his head to kiss her on the forehead. She smacked her lips in her sleep, as if dreaming of something sweet.
When Cheng Liao woke up, she jumped up in alarm. "Oh no, our luxurious bedroom! We completely wasted it!"
She ran to the bedroom door with a longing look and muttered under her breath, "Soft pillows, plump cushions, that beautiful lamp... it looks like an antique."
“Shh—” Sheng Jingchu gently pulled her back to the living room. “Look.”
The sun was slowly rising from the horizon, like the first sprout after a spring thunderstorm. The sea was still a dark, inky blue, blending seamlessly with the sky. A few boats were quietly anchored on the water, resembling shadows cast on a stage backdrop.
The sun gradually broke free, slowly illuminating the sea, the moment drawn out and almost pausing like a frame in a film.
“Quick, quick,” Cheng Liao grabbed a travel guide from the coffee table and handed him her phone. “Take a picture of me with this in the background.”
Sheng Jingchu took a few shots, and she reviewed them, carefully editing the lighting and cropping the image.
Later, Sheng Jingchu saw the same photo posted on her social media, showing her reading by the window at dawn, her features barely discernible in the dim light, with a wisp of hair falling across her cheek, giving her a youthful appearance.
The caption read: “Waking up to the sound of waves, the most beautiful moment of the day is reading in the morning light.”
As they boarded the train to Porto, Cheng Liao happily scrolled through the comments.
Her dad commented: “My daughter is the most beautiful.”
Cheng Yi added: “Keep showing off, just keep showing off.”
Cao Xihe teased: “Up so early on your honeymoon? [smirk]”
After basking in the likes and well-wishes, Cheng Liao noticed that Sheng Jingchu had updated his own social media with the same photo. His caption read: “Watching my wife read braille.”
Cheng Liao, annoyed, pinched his waist and gave him a good twist. “You really know how to spoil the moment!”
According to their itinerary, they were to stay in Porto for two days.
Standing on the Dom Luís I Bridge, Cheng Liao and Sheng Jingchu looked down to see a row of dilapidated houses, likely from an incomplete demolition. The rooftops were covered with plastic tarps, perhaps used as temporary shelters. Occasionally, a naked child could be seen running through the ruins. A small white cat with yellow patches leapt nimbly onto a roof, stretching its neck to meow at Cheng Liao. When no fish appeared, it quickly darted away.
After looking down for too long, Cheng Liao felt a bit dizzy. She turned around and leaned against the railing. Noticing her unease, Sheng Jingchu spread his hands and gently drew her into his embrace.
Across from them was a monastery, its dark red brick walls showing signs of wear. Through a gap in the gate, they could occasionally glimpse the edge of a black robe.
In the corner of the courtyard stood a lone lemon tree. Cheng Liao had noticed many lemon trees in courtyards during their train ride.
Following her gaze, Sheng Jingchu asked, “Have you ever seen a movie called Lemon Tree?”
“No, is it good?”
Sheng Jingchu thought for a moment. “I watched it on a plane once, when I traveled abroad for a competition with my teacher. It was a French version. The story was about a defense minister who wanted to cut down a lemon tree, and the woman who owned the tree wanted to protect it. I never got to finish the movie, so I don’t know if the tree was cut down in the end…”
That competition had been particularly important to him, filled with excitement and anxiety, so the movie didn’t leave much of an impression. But his teacher, noticing his interest, called Cao Xihe back in China and asked him to find the film. The phone connection was poor, and Cao Xihe, being restless, only caught bits and pieces of the request. By the time Sheng Jingchu returned to China, Cao Xihe had prepared five pounds of lemons.
As he grew older, Sheng Jingchu found more meaning in the phrase from the poem: “At the time, I thought it was just ordinary.”
Those seemingly ordinary moments had become memories he could no longer reach.
Cheng Liao sensed the unspoken emotions and knew he was probably thinking of his teacher again. She leaned down and kissed the wedding ring on his hand.
Her lips were warm and slightly moist, tingling against his skin.
Sheng Jingchu looked down at her, and she grinned back up at him. “I’ll turn into a fox for you!” She puffed out her cheeks and made a funny face, nudging him with her elbow. “Do I look like one? Do I?”
After descending from the bridge, they strolled leisurely along the riverbank. The temperature wasn’t high, but the sunlight was bright, casting a white glare on the water. Every now and then, Cheng Liao would chase after seagulls, her laughter trailing behind as the birds took flight.
They stopped at an ice cream shop that looked like something out of a fairy tale, with counters overflowing with tubs of various flavors. Cheng Liao was overwhelmed by the choices and finally settled on a cone with three different flavors.
After finishing hers, she eyed Sheng Jingchu’s, inching closer with caution. “Yours looks like rum-flavored… just a taste, let me have just one taste.”
Sheng Jingchu didn’t budge, gently pushing her head away with one finger. “You’ve already had enough.”
She could easily devour a 500-gram tub by herself. At first, Sheng Jingchu indulged her, but after seeing her complain of stomachaches every time, he became stricter about limiting her intake.
Cheng Liao grumbled all the way, seeing that Sheng Jingchu wouldn’t relent. She grudgingly came up with an excuse for herself—
“Let’s go buy some wine instead.”
Porto’s wines are famous worldwide, and the city is dotted with small wine shops. However, with the holidays in full swing, many shops were closed. After wandering through several alleys, they finally found an open shop and selected a bottle of white wine.
That evening, Cheng Liao pan-fried some steaks and eagerly opened the wine to taste it. After one sip, she looked puzzled.
“It’s… a bit bitter?”
Despite all her anticipation, the wine didn’t quite meet her expectations. She didn’t finish it, leaving it on the table as she gazed out from the balcony. The city’s lights were twinkling, infused with a festive atmosphere. Suddenly, she remembered it was Christmas Eve.
Perhaps there were some celebrations happening? With that thought, she dragged Sheng Jingchu out the door.
The night was chilly, and they were bundled up tightly. Sheng Jingchu even wrapped a scarf around Cheng Liao, leaving only her eyes exposed.
Porto’s streets are full of steep inclines, going up and down unpredictably. After a short walk, Cheng Liao’s legs started to feel sore.
On the roadside, a disheveled street musician was playing his violin. It was hard to discern the tune, and a small collection of low-denomination bills lay in the open case at his feet. Cheng Liao stopped to listen for a while, then quickly slipped a one-euro note into the case. To her surprise, the musician paused and wished her a “Merry Christmas” in English.
Embarrassed, Cheng Liao hid behind Sheng Jingchu. Even after they’d walked some distance, she glanced back to see the musician still waving at her.
Sheng Jingchu’s voice was cool. “Is the little deer in your heart lost?”
Cheng Liao didn’t catch on immediately. “Huh? What?”
“Why else would it be running around so wildly?”
“No way,” Cheng Liao retorted without a hint of guilt. “The little deer in my heart is a perfect match for the one in yours. If it’s running, it’s running for you.”
“Silver-tongued as always.” Though his words were teasing, it was clear her response pleased him. He turned to see her shivering and pulled her coat zipper up a bit higher.
They followed the crowd, stopping to look at anything that seemed interesting. By the end, they had collected a few gospel tracts, some Christmas candies, and found themselves at the entrance of a church.
They had visited this church earlier in the day. It was unclear when it had been built, but the square in front of it was adorned with a statue of a knight, now covered in verdigris.
The church was closed, but a small music concert was being held in the square to celebrate.
The music was soft and gentle, mostly religious hymns.
Children dressed in fine clothes stood in a line, singing carols in harmony.
The audience naturally formed a circle around them. Though there were occasional whispers, the atmosphere remained peaceful.
After the concert, Cheng Liao was shivering from the cold. “Why is it so much colder here than in Lisbon at night?”
“That’s because you didn’t attend a concert in Lisbon at night.” Sheng Jingchu tucked her hands into his pockets. “Let’s head back before you catch a cold.”
As they walked back, Cheng Liao suggested they take turns telling heartwarming stories, with the loser having to finish the rest of the wine.
“This is a true story,” Cheng Liao sniffled. “My college roommate had a crush on an upperclassman from the moment she started school. You know how it is with young girls—everything feels like poetry. She did all sorts of things for him, quietly and without expecting anything in return. In our second year, on Valentine’s Day, she finally mustered the courage to confess and gave him a box of chocolates. But to her surprise, the upperclassman just smiled…”
As she got to this part, she paused. "My roommate was really heartbroken and felt like all her affection had been misplaced. Just when she was about to leave in pain, the senior pulled out a box of chocolates with her name on it."
"So... your roommate's name is Dove?" Sheng Jingchu asked, completely deadpan.
Cheng Liao was speechless, letting out a huff through her nose. "Your turn."
"Everything related to you."
Cheng Liao thought he was taking the easy way out, but when she looked closely at his expression, she realized he was completely serious.
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