Chapter 118: The Magazine Office

"Who was that?" Zhang Ye asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, seeing Wang Mengzi seeing a group of people off.

"Just some neighbors from around here. They came over to welcome me back," Wang Mengzi replied. Seeing Zhang Ye, her face flushed slightly. She had almost been caught in a compromising situation just moments ago, and had she not been quick-witted enough to gloss over it, the local gossips would surely have started whispering.

Zhang Ye didn't tease her further. He helped her tidy up some of her belongings and then pulled her along to his home for dinner.

During the meal, his parents naturally asked about her travels and the novelties she had seen. The conversation was warm and filled with the comfort of home. Wang Mengzi had brought gifts—local specialties and carefully chosen presents. Liu Meiju was particularly fond of a hairpin she received, praising Wang Mengzi for being so thoughtful.

Zhang Ye also received a gift: a wooden model of an airplane, carved with exquisite detail. He was delighted, clearing the books from his bedside table to make space for it to be displayed.

That afternoon, Zhang Ye didn't go anywhere, choosing instead to lounge at Wang Mengzi’s house. He lay on her sofa with his head in her lap, aimlessly clicking the remote while they chatted idly. Meanwhile, she began to read the novel Zhang Ye had written for her, word by word.

At first, she was a bit disoriented; a world she had never imagined was unfolding before her eyes. But soon, she was drawn in. The unique, imaginative world completely captivated her.

She was deeply moved by the emotional portrayal of the protagonist and the heroine—the complications, the heartache, the struggles against a world that did not permit their love, and their persistence in wanting to be together despite it all.

As Zhang Ye savored the delicate fragrance of her skin and the warmth of her lap, he felt a drop of water fall onto his forehead. He paused, then sat up in alarm. "What's wrong?"

He reached out to brush away the tears at the corner of her eyes.

"Why couldn't they be together in the end?" Wang Mengzi sobbed, pounding on his chest in heartbreak.

Zhang Ye couldn't help but offer a wry smile. It turned out she was distraught because the characters hadn't found their happy ending after all their trials. This was, in fact, a small tactic of his. While a perfect love story brings happiness and satisfies everyone's wishes, only tragedy leaves a lasting mark, becoming truly unforgettable. Though he had used the novel to mirror their own relationship and hoped they could be together, he felt that distance was the only way to ensure they would remain etched in each other's memories.

"It's alright, it's just a story," Zhang Ye comforted her with a bitter smile, patting her head as he tried to explain.

"Go home, please. I want to be alone," Wang Mengzi said suddenly, pushing him away with a cold expression.

Zhang Ye was startled. "What's wrong now?"

"We could never be together. Just go," she said, rising to her feet. She looked suddenly gaunt, her face pale.

"What is actually wrong with you?" Zhang Ye couldn't possibly leave now, especially not when she was in such a state. He felt completely bewildered; things had been fine moments ago, so why the sudden change?

*Could it be—*

Zhang Ye felt a sudden urge to cry. Was it because of the novel? It was a metaphor for their own situation, and he had intentionally denied the couple their happy ending to make a lasting impression. Now, it seemed clear: Wang Mengzi had projected herself into the story and realized that, like the characters, they too could never be together. That was why her mood had shifted.

Women's emotions are delicate, and as a writer, Wang Mengzi was even more so. She had let her imagination run wild and jumped straight to that conclusion.

Zhang Ye rushed over and hugged her, saying with a wry smile, "It really is just a story. You don't need to be so tense. If it makes you feel better, I'll change it! I'll change the ending so they end up together, living happily ever after. Okay? Please, don't be like this..."

He babbled incoherently, watching her expression closely, ready to change his tune the moment he saw any sign of softening.

"Really?" Wang Mengzi looked up at him, her eyes still brimming with tears.

Only then did she realize that Zhang Ye had grown taller. He had once been only slightly taller than her, but now he was nearly half a head taller.

"Of course it's true. I'll change it right away. I'll let you read it the moment I'm done," Zhang Ye nodded firmly.

"Forget it," Wang Mengzi shook her head. "I like the story as it is. It belongs to me now, and I won't let you touch it."

"..."

Truly, one should never try to guess a woman's mind.

"By the way, Auntie Wang, what are your plans for the future?" With Wang Mengzi back to her usual self, Zhang Ye laid his head back in her lap, inhaling her scent. She had an alluring, natural fragrance—not from perfume, but an innate scent that was incredibly comforting.

"Plans? Just write, look for inspiration, and maybe find a light job when I feel like it. I think things are just fine the way they are," she said, stroking his hair and tracing his smooth jawline. Occasionally, she would playfully trail her fingertips across his lips, as if she had found a delightful new toy.

Taking advantage of her fingertips crossing his lips again, Zhang Ye gave her finger a light nip before letting go. He, too, had become addicted to this game. Under her playful, reproachful gaze, he said, "I want to start a magazine. Why don't you come and help me?"

This was something Zhang Ye had planned for a long time. Internet literature had yet to take off due to the timing, as there were still too few people online. A magazine was the only platform he could think of to achieve a similar goal.

Though it lacked the convenience and instantaneous nature of a website, and the content would be limited in the beginning, it was a viable path. If it went smoothly, it would at least provide him with a foundation.

"What? A magazine?" Wang Mengzi’s voice rose in surprise.

"Yes, a magazine. Don't worry about the money. I sold a painting a while ago and have over a million. Starting from scratch would be difficult, but there are many failing magazines currently struggling to stay afloat. We just need to acquire the best one among them, and we'll have the basic framework. With a few adjustments, we can get it running again in no time." Zhang Ye had done his homework, even going so far as to research the operational status of local magazines.