Charm point maxed out, inheriting game assets-Chapter 1708 - 588: Holding Hands, Holding Hands_4

Chapter 1708: Chapter 588: Holding Hands, Holding Hands_4

She still felt dizzy, somewhat unable to react.

Dragon Ball... Shenron...

The ceremony she saw as the ultimate fantasy seemed to have truly summoned an unimaginable miracle in reality.

Over twenty minutes later.

The food on the grill was completely cleared.

Lulu stood up, with a mischievous smile on her face, "It’s getting late. Li Chao is on his electric scooter, so he can take me to the subway station. We’ll leave now and not interrupt you old classmates catching up!"

Zhang Yan quickly stood up, wanting to see them off downstairs.

"No need to see us off! You’ve done it so many times already, no need to be so polite with us!"

Lulu and Li Chao waved vigorously at them at the door, then quickly left.

The door closed again with a "click".

This time, it was truly just the two of them left in this little rental room.

Zhang Yan’s cheeks instantly turned crimson, her breathing becoming labored.

She felt as if she might faint from lack of oxygen at any moment.

Tang Song’s body was a bit tense, also feeling an unprecedented nervousness.

He exhaled lightly.

He walked to the simple little bookshelf on the desk.

His fingers gently brushed over the spines of the 34 volumes of Dragon Ball, one by one.

His lips moved slightly, with a faint mist of warmth rising in his eyes.

He turned around, solemnly and sincerely said, "This is the most meaningful gift I’ve received. Thank you, Zhang Yan."

Zhang Yan’s expression froze, she lowered her head awkwardly, staring at the Orange at her feet.

Then, Tang Song suddenly pulled out the first volume of Dragon Ball from the shelf, the familiar vintage cover warming his heart.

He turned around, his smile as bright as in his youth, his eyes sparkling with pure and clear light.

"Zhang Yan, would you like to... read together?"

This suggestion struck Zhang Yan’s heart like a jolt of electricity.

She lifted her head in a daze, her heart pounding as if it might burst out of her chest.

Images from middle school poured into her heart like a tide.

The desk mate who used to excitedly explain the plot between classes; the boy who would lend her his beloved, brand-new manga without hesitation...

Tang Song didn’t wait for her response, he brought over two small wooden stools by himself and placed them side by side, then gestured to her with a smile.

"Come on, it’s been a long time since I read manga. I really miss the feeling of reading manga with you in middle school."

Zhang Yan’s lips moved slightly, and as if guided by a mysterious force, she took one step, then another, and walked over.

She sat down beside him, cautiously.

Very close, very close.

So close that she could clearly smell the fresh and pleasant scent from him, causing her to blush and her heart to race, making her dizzy.

Orange walked over at the right moment, affectionately rubbing against her feet.

Zhang Yan felt like she found a savior, quickly scooping Orange into her arms, using its soft, warm body to cover her flustered and helpless state.

Tang Song opened the manga between them and began to read from the first page with great interest.

He read while softly discussing the story with Zhang Yan.

After so many years, many details had blurred away, yet revisiting them now brought a unique feeling.

Zhang Yan’s cheeks and the back of her ears remained hot and flushed.

She didn’t dare look directly at his profile, her eyes mostly resting on the open manga.

Unbeknownst to her, the sky outside grew darker and darker.

Halfway through a manga, Tang Song paused.

He checked the time and said, "It’s late, I should go."

Zhang Yan’s breath caught sharply, her chest feeling blocked and stifled.

But she only stammered, "I, I’ll see you off."

Tang Song gently closed the manga, carefully placing it back on the simple bookshelf.

He turned around, his gaze landing on her face, "Oh right, the letter? Paper does mean more than the digital version."

Zhang Yan stood frozen in place.

After a moment, she spoke with a trembling voice, "It’s in the right drawer."

Tang Song gently opened the drawer, a delicate light blue envelope lay quietly inside, even with a stamp on it.

His breath quickened as he carefully picked up the letter, staring at it in a daze.

After a long time.

He solemnly placed the letter into his pocket, "I’ll take good care of it!"

Having said that, he nodded to Zhang Yan and walked towards the door.

Zhang Yan followed a couple of steps, realizing just before going out.

In a low voice, she said, "And... and that set of Dragon Ball."

Tang Song turned his head to look at her, his smile full of warmth and ease, "Leave it with you for now, we haven’t finished the first volume yet. I’ll come back tomorrow to read it."

Hearing his words, Zhang Yan’s eyes widened in disbelief, "To-tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he nodded naturally, "I’ll come find you tomorrow, and we can finish the manga together."

"Oh, oh."

Zhang Yan followed Tang Song out of the door in a daze, going downstairs.

They walked silently along the dim concrete path of the community.

She kept her head down, occasionally sneaking a quick glance at Tang Song, but because of her guilt and fear, she could only ever see his shoulder.

Yet even so, she felt very satisfied, very fulfilled.

The scenes from tonight felt to her like an unreal, overly beautiful dream.

Even now, she couldn’t fully confirm that it was all real.

They exited the community gate, the night wind whisking past her ears with the sound of traffic.

Zhang Yan pointed in a direction, instinctively saying, "The subway station is over there."

She commuted by subway every day and had gotten used to it.

Tang Song paused for a moment, not refuting, just smiling and following the direction she pointed.

Soon, the two of them arrived at the intersection outside the community.

The red light was on, and they quietly stood waiting.

Zhang Yan instinctively took half a step back, standing in the shadow diagonally behind him, nervous and uneasy like a child who did something wrong.

Cars sped by quickly in front of them, the light from their headlights fleetingly casting across them, before disappearing into the endless darkness.

"It’s green now," Tang Song reminded, his voice exceptionally clear in the night.

Zhang Yan replied with an "Mm," and was just about to step forward.

A warm, slender hand suddenly reached over and gently held her left hand.

Boom—

Blood rushed to her face, burning from her slender neck all the way to her ears.

Zhang Yan’s mind went blank.

The only thing she could feel was the continuous warmth and heart-throbbing from the two hands clasped together.

He took a step forward, holding her hand.

All sounds, all images, all thoughts were slowed down at this moment.

She couldn’t hear the hustle of traffic nor feel her own breath.

It was as if her soul had been detached, floating above, staring dazedly at Tang Song’s hand.

The splendor of the night gently rippled in her peripheral vision.

The silhouettes of tall buildings softened, pedestrians blurred into moving patches of color, the glow of traffic lights misted in the moist air, and neon lights and street lamps became a flowing colorful galaxy.

Near, far; clear, blurry.

The night in Yang City completely lost its focus.