A Song For A Summer’s Night - Chapter 138

Song Meiling and Zhang Enyu were silent for a few long minutes; the insects sang, filling the awkwardness between them.

“So you’re really leaving?” she questioned him.

Zhang Enyu furrowed his brows. He noticed how she looked sad, almost as if she was going to miss him? But that wasn’t possible, he thought. Song Meiling had been adamant that they’d never go beyond their fling. Besides, he was coming back. But he thought to let her misunderstand him, wanting to see where this conversation would lead.

“Yes,” he answered; it was a half-truth.

Song Meiling sighed deeply, glancing away.

“Do you have a stick?” she asked him. Zhang Enyu nodded, passing her a cigarette, taking one out for himself, too. He lit his with one hand, as well as Song Meiling’s.

“For a foreigner, how was it like joining in the crazy misadventures of the Song family?” she asked him with a forced but genuine smile.

Zhang Enyu exhaled a drag, chuckling. “In all honesty, it was invigorating. I didn’t think that I would wound up hiding in a tree from crazy mobsters, escaping towards a lodge. Then the next thing you know, we ended up near seaports, helping gangsters fight other gangsters.”

Song Meiling found herself smiling broadly.

“I didn’t imagine that my life would become a lot more interesting just because I spent a year with the Song family,” he admitted. “But, I think I would have been bored anywhere else without you and your family.”

Zhang Enyu froze, realizing he said something that maybe he shouldn’t have.

Song Meiling let the cigarette in her hand burn as she looked at him, accidentally letting the ashes fall on her leg. “Ouch,” she said, flicking it away.

He rubbed his thumb over the small red spot on her leg soothingly.

“I thought you hated me,” Song Meiling whispered, looking back at him directly.

“I’ve said it before. I don’t. Why would I desire someone I hated?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Maybe to torture yourself.”

Zhang Enyu laughed. “Well. I don’t just hook up with just anyone anymore,” he admitted. “I’ve had a girlfriend in the past. It didn’t work out.”

Song Meiling’s eyes widened. “What happened?” she found herself asking. “I mean. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to—”

“She left me for another man,” he confessed, looking down. “It was a long time ago, and I don’t like to think about it anymore. I don’t like to think about how I was not good enough for her, or probably for anyone in that fact.”

Song Meiling caught his wrist. The wind breezed through her wavy hair. “You’re enough!” She told him, almost flushing at her own words.

Zhang grinned, tossing his finished stick aside.

“I know I don’t talk about my ex, but I really did love him,” Song Meiling said. “At least I thought I did. But before he became an Idol, we met, and I vouched for him to my father, signing him with Song Entertainment. It was because of me that he became widely popular and famous, and he had the gall to cheat on me. Fuck him,” she vented out. “I was furious. I wondered since he used me, will anyone else? I left Song Entertainment for myself because I wanted to explore the world and because I had a passion for architecture. Then when I confronted my ex about his cheating, he said that I didn’t amount to anything other than being a rich girl. So I came back and decided to follow my dream.”

Zhang Enyu was both stunned and amazed.

“I’m sorry,” he told her.

“What are you sorry for?” she questioned.

“Because I had made similar comments about you being nothing but a rich girl, but not once, did I believe you didn’t amount to anything more.”

Song Meiling chuckled. “Actually, you pissed me off too, but it was a really great motivator. I mean, you made my blood boil and thump, sparking my eagerness to learn, but you were there for me, supporting me. That’s the difference, Enyu.” Against her wishes, tears started to roll down her face. “I remember staying up late at nights wanting to give up, and you were there to study with me,” her voice broke.

Zhang Enyu pulled her towards him. She embraced him, sobbing against his shoulder.

“Damn you, Enyu. Why didn’t you tell me?” she cried out.

Zhang Enyu began to wipe the tears from her face, looking down at her wordlessly.

“Are you sure you want to go back? I heard it’s freezing up there that some people ride polar bears or moose,” she said.

“It’s summer, and that’s a myth, and I think illegal,” he replied with warmth.

“I also heard people speak French there. It’s the French girls you want, right? I will learn,” she said.

Zhang Enyu wanted to burst out laughing. But he held it together, knowing she will get mad at him. But he was amazed by the lengths she was willing to go to. It’s her big heart that people took advantage of, and he was determined never to make that mistake.

“Meiling,” he said.

Song Meiling, snot-nosed and red-faced, glanced up at him. He thought she looked adorable. He then reached out to wipe her face with his sleeve. “I am going to visit my father, and I’ll be back before the next term.”

Song Meiling paused. “What?” she questioned unbelievingly.

“Your father asked me when I was going back to Canada because he also wanted to know when I’ll be back,” Zhang Enyu told her.

Song Meiling spaced out for a few long moments before her face blushed throughout. She couldn’t believe how ridiculous she looked and how childish she behaved because she had jumped to conclusions.

“You’re coming back?” She asked him.

Zhang Enyu nodded. “It’s only for a month. I have to visit my family, as much as they drive me crazy, they worry about me.”

Song Meiling chuckled as she sniffed.

“Meiling,” he called out to her again. “I will be back, but there’s no guarantee I’ll stay. As much as I love China, my ancestral home, my heart lies with Canada.”

Song Meiling thought about it. “I understand,” she told him. “But, in the meantime, can we start seeing each other romantically, and see where this relationship takes us?”

Zhang Enyu nodded. He leaned over, descending onto her lips. He kissed her hard, opening her mouth, stealing the breath from her. “I would love that,” he admitted against her lips.

Song Meiling smiled bashfully, reddening. She nestled against him, at the edge of the car. “Can you tell me something in French?”

Zhang Enyu laughed breathlessly. “You know, not all of us are prominent in the language. I only know certain words and phrases.”

“Like what?” she asked him.

“Like this,” he said huskily. “Je suis amoureux de toi.”

She creased her brows, “What does that mean?” she asked him.

“I’ll tell you some other time,” he replied with a youthful smile.