Chapter 908: Xiao Chong Extra Story 16
Lin Wanwan found herself unable to concentrate on reading tonight, her thoughts drifting from the topics to the gift from Xiao Chong.
While writing formulas, she suddenly found her mind wandering, losing herself in thought.
After several attempts, Lin Wanwan put down her pen, realizing it would be futile to study tonight, and decided to stop wasting effort.
She turned her attention to her room and suddenly realized that it was getting colder, so it was time to take down the mosquito net.
She went ahead with her intention and stood up to dismantle the mosquito net.
She threw the net onto the floor and broke down the two fiberglass poles into a circular shape with a diameter of half a meter to fix them, then packed them into the mosquito net bag and stored it alongside the wardrobe wall.
Next, Lin Wanwan gathered the net from the floor and took it downstairs to put it in the washing machine.
After Xiao Chong’s repair and descaling, the ten or twenty-year-old washing machine now worked as if it were new.
Not only did the drum seem new, washing clothes became steadier and no longer danced randomly, even the noise was significantly reduced, giving the impression it could operate for another twenty years.
Lin Wanwan put the mosquito net into the washing machine, hit the start button, and went back upstairs.
The washing machine, now matured, no longer jumped around erratically, so Lin Wanwan didn’t need to wait around.
With the net removed, the room seemed slightly larger.
Lin Wanwan flopped onto her bed, turned her face, and gazed at the painting Xiao Chong had given her for her birthday, slowly lost in thought.
The atmosphere was very quiet for a while, allowing her to hear the sound of snow falling on branches outside.
Unable to ignore a certain someone or something, Lin Wanwan picked up the iPad lying facedown on her bedside table. Upon unlocking it, she noticed the QQ icon on the desktop had a red dot with the number 5.
This meant five unread messages had arrived.
Eagerly opening them, the chat window she most frequently used popped up.
Xiao Chong had sent her five messages in quick succession, each one lengthy and detailed.
He started by discussing the origins of gifts in ancient times, moving to the meaningfulness of gifting today, akin to a dissertation.
In essence, he was conveying two messages to Lin Wanwan — the most important aspect of a gift isn’t its value, but the sentiment behind the act of giving. The item holds a price, but the sentiment is priceless.
He noted that his gift cost less than one percent of his savings, while Lin Wanwan’s gift to him surely exceeded one-tenth of her savings.
So whose gift carries more weight between them?
He gave only one percent, while she reciprocated with ten percent, perhaps even more.
"Nonsense!"
Lin Wanwan couldn’t help but chuckle, confirming his status as a top student who can score over 140 in Chinese exams, smoothly employing plausible yet flawed reasoning.
She looked up from the iPad at the cashmere dress and matching coat laid out on the bedside table, feeling an inexplicable surge of wild growth within her.
She sat up, walked to the bedside, and held the cashmere dress against herself.
High-waisted, knee-length, with a simple square neckline, a fitted top, a voluminous pleated skirt, and the waist delicately cinched with ribbing.
Lin Wanwan stood silently for a moment, gently placing the dress on the bed, swiftly took off her clothes down to her underwear, then slipped into the dress and layered on the matching hooded coat.
She opened her room door, walked into the adjacent bathroom, and viewed herself in the mirror.
The girl in the mirror dressed gracefully, the underskirt unexpectedly fitting well, paired with the loose coat showing off her curves while retaining a casual elegance.
Upon longer inspection, there was a soft yet delightful feeling, reminiscent of a cat sunbathing with limbs sprawled out in winter.
It must be said, Xiao Chong’s choice was perfect for Lin Wanwan’s taste. She truly liked this ensemble; it was exactly how she envisioned it.
Undoubtedly, those with artistic talent have an impeccable sense of aesthetics.
Interestingly, this wasn’t the only gift Lin Wanwan received today. On her way to class, she found two gift boxes stuffed in her desk, evidently placed by some lovesick youth.
She felt no urge to open them, leaving them untouched on the teacher’s platform. She neither needed others’ gifts nor could bear such puzzling sentiments.
But Xiao Chong was different from everyone else.
Although Lin Wanwan couldn’t quite articulate the "difference," he was certainly different, and it made her happy.
