Winter in a Small Town

Old Zhou told Chen Fang that there was a nice girl he wanted to introduce to him and asked if he wanted to meet her. Chen Fang chuckled, half-smoking a cigarette, and nodded at Old Zhou. “Of course, if you’re introducing her, I have to meet her.”

He was curious to see just how “nice” the girl Old Zhou was talking about really was.

The name sounded familiar, and in his distant memory, there was a girl with the same name, who was quite fair-skinned.

When they met, she seemed vaguely familiar, and indeed, the girl was really fair.

On their wedding night, Chen Fang looked at the person lying under the red wedding quilt and thought to himself, Wow, she’s really white.

He bit her ear and whispered, “How are you so white, hmm? I remember you don’t really like drinking milk.”

The girl blushed, her whole body turning as red as a boiled shrimp. She buried her head under the quilt, too shy to say a word.

Chen Fang’s deep, amused laugh was both joyful and wild.

Teasing the girl like this was just so fun.

One minute later, the cheerful and wild man stopped laughing, still not quite believing what had just happened.

The girl, still blushing, gently touched his thick black eyebrows and earnestly comforted him, “It’s okay, it’s probably just because I’m too white.”

…

Three months after the wedding, Chen Fang, panicked, knocked on Old Zhou’s door in the middle of the night, his tone frantic. “Old Zhou, which eye of yours saw that the girl was ‘nice’?”

On the surface, she looked like a milky white rabbit, but inside, she was a little demon. He was bound to be devoured by her, with not a single hair left.

When asked who Old Zhou was, he was Chen Fang’s high school teacher, who once chased him around half the county.

And, oh, Old Zhou was also the “nice” girl’s teacher.