Meng Yan's Transformation

Chapter 620 Zhan Yingying visits Zhan Mengyan

Time flies, and summer is here in the blink of an eye.

Zhan Mengyan is preparing for her final exams. Zhang Xincheng and Zhan Zixun are preparing for the college entrance exams, both extremely busy and have lost contact with each other.

One weekend afternoon, Zhan Yingying arrived at Jin County High School. She stood in the crowd at the school gate, carrying a heavy cloth bag, and was tiptoeing to look into the school. When she saw her younger sister, Zhan Mengyan, she immediately raised her hand, a simple smile spreading across her face.

"Sis, what brings you here?! I've been quite busy these days and haven't been home. I'll be going into my second year of high school next semester, so this final exam is my college entrance exam."

As Zhan Mengyan spoke, her eyes shone with joy.

"Your sister came to see you today. She wants you to come with her to the photo studio. She needs some photos. Your mother misses you a lot since you haven't been home for many days."

The two sisters sat down on a bench on the street near the photo studio. The older sister carefully took things out of her bag: a jar of homemade pickled vegetables, a few hard-boiled eggs, and a newly made floral vest.

"It's getting hot, so I'll wear this to bed at night; it'll keep me cool."

As Zhan Yingying spoke, she handed over the floral vest. At that very moment, Zhan Mengyan's gaze fell on her sister's hand.

Those were hands that didn't match her 20 years of age. The skin on her arms was rough and covered with fine, dark lines left by wind and sun. Several knuckles were red and swollen. Even more glaring were the scars: there was a not-yet-fully-healed crack on the web of her right hand, covered with dark tape; her knuckles were somewhat large; her nails were cut very short, with rough edges, and faint traces of dirt that hadn't been washed off could be seen under her nails...

Zhan Mengyan grasped Zhan Yingying's hand; its texture was rough, like sandpaper. The palm was thick and hard, covered with calluses of varying sizes and a yellowish-brown color, like an extra layer of armor. Several fresh scratches, not yet healed, left dark red marks on the back of the hand… These hands formed a startling contrast with Zhan Yingying's delicate and gentle face.

Zhan Mengyan was stunned. She remembered that before the start of the school year, her sister's hands, while not delicate, were certainly not this weathered. She slowly raised these hands and examined them closely. They were heavy and rough, bearing witness to the daily friction and struggle with the land, farm tools, and crop stems and leaves. She could imagine how these hands had gripped the handles to till the compacted soil, how they had harvested vegetables in the morning dew, and how they had been scratched by sharp stalks or rough hemp ropes. Each was a recurring memory, each scar a testament to hardship. Time seemed to have prematurely etched the frost and weight onto these young hands.

Zhan Yingying sensed Zhan Mengyan's unusual behavior and gently tried to pull her hand away. A fleeting, almost imperceptible embarrassment crossed her face, quickly masked by her usual gentle smile. "It's alright, your hands are always like this after farm work," Zhan Yingying said casually, patting Zhan Mengyan's hand with her rough palm instead. The touch was clearly hard, yet it carried a strange, sisterly warmth.

At that moment, Zhan Mengyan saw this scene: before dawn, these hands were already in the yard, pressing the well handle, the icy well water splashing onto her sleeves; under the scorching sun, these hands wielded a sickle, harvesting heavy hay, sweat dripping into the soil; in the evening, under the lamplight, perhaps it was these same rough hands that had mended her clothes and carefully packed the food she had brought into the cloth bag. Her older sister silently supported the family's operation with her hands, and also supported Zhan Mengyan's peaceful study in the bright classroom. The hardships of life had honed her hands, but never extinguished the light in her eyes or her care for her younger sister.