110 | Happy Birthday (109th Birthday)

Xie Qingyan pulled down the collar of his school uniform and smiled slyly: "I'll tell you tomorrow."

Mysterious.

Tomorrow is December 21st, the longest night of the year, and also his birthday.

The constellation Mao is born at the winter solstice. As recorded in the Astronomical Records: "The day is short and the star Mao is in the middle of winter."

It is said that at dusk on that day, the Pleiades, one of the seven constellations of the White Tiger in the west, will appear in the southern sky. The Northern Hemisphere will then experience the longest night of the year. After this day, the harsh winter will arrive, with cold winds sweeping the land and the coldest days of winter coming.

Xie Qingyan has a terrible memory and naturally didn't remember the exact date of Su Xingmao's birthday. It was only thanks to the kind Ms. Xie Jinyu's unintentional reminder that she suddenly remembered where the birthday cakes she ate before Christmas in those years came from.

Lingquan Mountain is undoubtedly cold at night.

The wind howled across the mountains and fields, blowing fiercely and powerfully, bending the grass and trees to one side.

But it was a sunny day overall. Apart from the annoying howling wind, which made my pearly face a little red from the cold despite wearing a thick down jacket, everything else was fine.

When Xie Qingyan was little, her mother once said that if it rains on someone's birthday, that person must be stingy. She didn't have the ability to observe the stars at night, so she specially checked the weather forecast and breathed a sigh of relief. It would be rainless for the next two days.

That's probably not true. Su Xingmao is a petty person who pretends to be generous but is actually quite jealous and loves to silently suffer from jealousy.

Tonight is a clear night, with lush vegetation, low-hanging clouds, and a crescent moon hanging on the branches. Lingquan Mountain remains as beautiful as ever, just like it has been for ten years.

She traversed half a hill to find the bus that had been abandoned since elementary school. As a childhood utopia, it had once been cherished, adorned with lace curtains, glass wind chimes, green plants, and carpets. The two little ones used it as their secret base, bringing it back to life.

Back then, they wore wired headphones, listened to MP3s, and held a clear glass candy wrapper in their hand. Through the colorful laser light, they looked out the window at the dazzling and beautiful world.

But many years have passed, and the taste of that cheap candy under the cellophane in my childhood has long been forgotten. I only remember that it was so sweet that it made my mouth feel cloying. I used to dislike it, but now I miss it. It's hard to find that taste again.

People are always like this; they only cherish things after they've passed by.

The trees grew taller and taller, and the grass grew even more rampant, almost covering the roof of the car. The white gauze windows turned yellow at the edges, and the wind chimes hanging beside the windows were covered with copper frost and faded in color.

The only thing that remains unchanged is the tinkling sound when the wind blows, so crisp that it seems to turn back time.

In his haste to come and go, Xie Qingyan didn't have any good ideas. He asked the cleaning uncle to clean up the spiders that were spinning webs and the weeds that were nesting. He then brought over a blanket, arranged a circle of electric candles (very tacky), told people to cover their eyes and not to open them, and led him over, stumbling along, saying that he had a huge surprise for him.

But Xie Qingyan was really bad at keeping secrets. Long before she was running up and down the stairs with a basket and then picking up a large takeout order from the door, Su Xingmao was on the second floor next door and saw everything clearly.

With a little thought, you'll know what she's up to.

Of course, for now, we still have to pretend to be blind and go along with her excited surprise.

It's nothing really. On the old bus, new lace curtains are hung, the white fabric swaying gently. In the center of the carpet is a cake with a Van Gogh starry night painting, surrounded by electronic candles, the stars twinkling. It's a scene that's both romantic and not really romantic.

Life is ordinary, but people are romantic.

Xie Qingyan wished him a happy birthday.

Before Su Xingmao stepped forward, there was a small greeting card folded into a paper boat next to the cake.

He bent down to pick it up and unfolded it. On the left was a tiny watercolor painting: a little girl leaning against a little boy, looking up out of the car window at the starry sky.

On the right is a piece of yellowed paper with a very messy crayon drawing, taped next to a new drawing. The drawing shows a younger version of him, gazing at the sky in a daze. This is something from a long time ago.

At that time, their relationship was still good, and Xie Qingyan often came to visit him.

She was curious about the boy in front of her, wondering why he didn't like to talk or play with other people.

She loved to stare at him, and it took a lot of effort to get him to open his mouth.

She noticed that his lowered eyes were ethereal, as if veiled or shrouded in mist, making him seem preoccupied. He was precocious, not talkative, and often lost in thought. She felt there was something in his eyes that she couldn't understand, a strange emotion, as if he were about to rain, a melancholy, overcast day.

Actually, "melancholy" would be a more appropriate word, but Xie Qingyan didn't understand that word at the time.

Xie Qingyan had just started learning to paint, and she had never painted a person before, but he looked so lonely that she really wanted to paint him.

The crayon scratched across the paper, and she started drawing.

At first, it was a boy gazing at the sky, with a rough outline that was hard to recognize. Later, it was painted in bright red, mixed with lemon yellow, and a golden sun was added.

She thought that he was like a rainy day with warm sunshine, which might make him happier.

After much revising and correction, she finally finished the drawing. Looking at it from left to right, she felt it was a bit ugly. She wanted to show it off to him, but the little girl was too proud to show it to him. Instead, she hid it in her favorite fairy tale book, like a little secret, and kept it hidden for many years.

The drawing paper had long since yellowed and cracked at the edges; it would have crumbled at the slightest touch. Fortunately, the memories remained as they were, as did the people.

Xie Qingyan pointed to the back of the card, on the other side of the drawing, where there was a sentence.

"Would you like to embark on a journey with me?"

The handwriting is neat and meticulous.

The boy's fingers trembled slightly as he gripped the piece of paper; it seemed his collection was about to gain another item.

Xie Qingyan thought that the interactions between people are like two winding streams, occasionally converging, but more often, each going its own way. The river of life flows on and on, so long, and we will both pass through so many places. I allow you to wade through my life and flow with me, and the paper boat will sail to the distance.

"The question you asked me yesterday," Xie Qingyan said, no longer hesitant. She looked up at him confidently and smiled in the dim candlelight, "Do you still want an answer?"

Su Xingmao's throat tightened, his voice hoarse: "...Can you tell me?"

The air was as still as death.

After years of waiting, he finally received her affirmative, smiling words.

"Su Xing Mao is my treasure."

The lights on the dilapidated old bus flickered.

Su Xingmao's heart was suddenly filled with endless reverie. He longed to grow wings and fly to every corner of the world, to the ends of the earth, to embrace her, kiss her, and whisper "I love you" in her ear.

He must be envious. The world is so blurry, and he feels a painful bitterness. He firmly repeated, his voice calm and powerful: "Su Xingmao is Xie Qingyan's treasure."

"Dear Su Xingmao, may I invite you to dance?"

Xie Qingyan bent down, bowed, and gracefully extended her hand to him with a smile.

She remembered that he watched this scene the longest when they were rehearsing a duet.

"Here?"

"Here."

When I held his hand tightly.

Xie Qingyan suddenly recalled that she had seen the French version of the musical "Romeo and Juliet" not long ago, and that's how they sang during the scene on the balcony.

La ntre mencera ce soir

Our story begins tonight.

Qu'une pucelle aime un ange

A young boy fell in love with an angel

A quelle étoile, a quel Dieu

Which star, which god, should I pray to?

Je dois cet amour dans ses yeux

Go repay the love he saw in his eyes

Que eur volontésoit faite their

Their minds were made up.

...

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