spring overture

Lin Xueyin's life seemed to be quietly injected with a touch of vitality by the trip to Liulichang, and the originally dull tones began to spread out with some bright ripples.

Sister Jiang, Jiang Weihong, became her first real friend in this strange city.

This art designer, nearly twenty years her senior, possessed a carefree and enthusiastic spirit that defied the rigidity of her environment. Not a native Beijinger, she spent her early years studying abroad, having experienced many ups and downs. She possessed a well-informed insight and a well-protected love of the details of life.

Since returning from Liulichang, Sister Jiang seemed to have taken Lin Xueyin as her "little follower." During breaks in her work, she would pull Lin Xueyin along to review the newly arrived pictorials, teaching her to recognize different fonts and compositional styles.

She even secretly shared some photocopied pages from her private collection of foreign art albums - those lines and colors full of vitality fascinated Lin Xueyin, as if she had opened up a corner of a new world.

"Xiao Lin, look at Monet's water lilies, how well he captures the light and shadow! When we make bulletin boards, we also have to pay attention to the virtual and real, sparse and dense, and we can't clutter it up..." Sister Jiang pointed at the picture album and said excitedly.

Lin Xueyin listened attentively, occasionally raising naive questions, which Sister Jiang always patiently answered. This kind of communication based purely on interest and skills made her feel fulfilled and happy in a long time.

She began to actively learn, not only improving her writing skills but also experimenting with color matching and simple borders under Sister Jiang's guidance. When the first issue of the blackboard newspaper, designed entirely by her, featuring harmonious colors and a fresh layout, was praised by the department head with a casual "Well done!", Lin Xueyin felt a warm warmth well up inside her.

Weekends were no longer a daunting time. Sister Jiang couldn't sit still, so she'd drag Lin Xueyin along to explore Beijing. They'd eschew the famed tourist spots, preferring instead to wander the alleyways and flea markets, seeking out hidden gems.

On a sunny Saturday morning, Sister Jiang approached Lin Xueyin mysteriously and said, "Xiao Lin, I'm going to take you to a great place today. I guarantee you'll like it!"

They rode their half-worn bicycles borrowed from their workplace, weaving through the winding alleys. A spring breeze caressed their faces, carrying the faint sweet fragrance of locust flowers. Sunlight filtered through the tall locust trees, casting dappled shadows on the grayish-blue brick walls and vermilion door lintels.

The hutongs were filled with a vibrant atmosphere of life: elderly men strolled with bird cages, elderly women chatted while washing vegetables at the communal tap, and children chased and played. This vibrant atmosphere, starkly different from the regimented and solemn atmosphere of the work compound, gave Lin Xueyin a strange sense of intimacy and relaxation.

Sister Jiang took her around in circles and finally stopped in front of an inconspicuous little shop with a sign that said "Trust Store."

"Let's go in and see if there are any treasures in here!" Sister Jiang was very excited.

The shop was dimly lit and filled with a unique smell of old wood, old paper and dust.

The shelves and glass counters are filled with all kinds of old things: yellowed books, chipped porcelain, old-fashioned clocks, and even rusty bicycle parts. There are not many people here, mostly elderly people, who are leisurely browsing and exchanging things.

Lin Xueyin surveyed all this with curiosity. Her eyes were drawn to a set of old porcelain cups in the corner of the counter, painted with a lotus pattern and a white background with blue flowers. The cups looked quite old, with a warm glaze and elegant patterns, exuding a quiet beauty that had been etched with time.

Sister Jiang followed her gaze, her eyes lighting up. "Wow, you have good taste! This looks like an item from the Republic of China. It's not particularly valuable, but the painting is meticulous and the item is in perfect condition." She spoke familiarly to the shopkeeper, a veteran in reading glasses who was repairing an old radio. "Master Li, how much do I have for this set of cups?"

After some friendly bargaining, Sister Jiang helped Lin Xueyin buy the set of cups at a very low price. As she walked out of the trust store holding the cups carefully wrapped in old newspapers, Lin Xueyin felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

This is not just buying an old item, but more like finding a small mark and fun of her own in this huge city.

"Come on, to celebrate your finding the treasure, I'll treat you to something delicious!" Sister Jiang waved her hand and took her to a nearby old snack bar with a very good reputation, where they ate authentic douzhi, jiaoquan and aiwowo.

The unique sour taste of douzhi made Lin Xueyin frown, but under Sister Jiang's hearty laughter and the encouragement of "when in Rome, do as the Romans do", she still tried it. The wonderful experience left a deep impression on her.

Besides her "adventures" with Sister Jiang, she also grew close to her neighbor, Sun Mei. Sun Mei's work at the library was more relaxed, and she was quiet. Sometimes in the evenings, Lin Xueyin would visit Sun Mei's dorm room, books in hand.

Sun Mei's dorm was clean and cozy, with several pots of green radish growing lushly on the windowsill. They would share snacks they brought from home, usually North City specialties sent by Lin Xueyin's mother, or roasted nuts from Sun Mei's hometown. They would chat about their reading experiences, the customs of their respective hometowns, and occasionally, cautiously, touch upon their uncertainties about the future.

"Sister Lin, do you think we will stay here forever?" Sun Mei asked softly once, with a look in her eyes similar to Lin Xueyin's, a hesitation about the unknown.

Lin Xueyin remained silent. She couldn't offer an answer; her future was still shrouded in uncertainty. But she still tried to comfort him, "Things will get better. At least... I have a stable job now, and I've gotten to know you all."

These words were partly to comfort Sun Mei, and partly to comfort herself. Yes, although she had no control over her situation, the stability she had now, and the small but real warmth around her, were all she could hold on to.

She began to manage her small space with greater care. She washed the old porcelain cups she'd found and placed them solemnly on her desk. Occasionally, she would brew a cup of the floral tea her father had given her, and watching the steam rise brought her peace of mind. She used the cloth coupons she'd saved to buy a piece of light blue cotton fabric and clumsily made a simple curtain for the cold window of her dormitory.

The sunlight filtered through the blue fabric, softening the room. She even secretly plucked a few crabapple branches from the company yard and placed them in a glass bottle filled with water. The vibrant pink added a touch of vivid color to the drab room.

Her changes were subtle but constant. Her face gradually became plumper, her paleness faded, revealing a healthy glow. Her eyes were no longer the panicked, empty look she had when she first arrived. Though worry still lingered deep within, they now held a gentle, bright glow befitting her age.

When she walked, her back was straighter, and occasionally when she talked and laughed with Sister Jiang, she would show her fine white teeth. Although that smile still had a bit of shyness, it was genuine and touching.

She wrote to her parents more frequently, and the content of her letters became richer and richer. She no longer just reported safety but began to describe in detail the fun she had with Sister Jiang while strolling through the hutongs, her beloved set of old porcelain cups, the crabapple blossoms she grew on her dormitory windowsill, a particular delicious dish in the cafeteria, and even alluded to Sun Mei and a few other relatively friendly colleagues at work.

She tried to make her words sound light and cheerful, trying to prove to her parents that she was really adapting here, really... trying to make her life better.

Far away in the north, Lin Guodong and Su Yuzhen read their daughter's neatly written, increasingly long letters over and over again. Su Yuzhen's tears faded, replaced by a smile of relief and deeper concern.

"Old Lin, look at Yinyin's letter. It's much more lively now. She even knows how to exchange old things, just like when she was a child..."

Lin Guodong, wearing reading glasses, carefully read the letter, his brows slightly relaxed. "Well, it seems like life is starting to get better. Comrade Jiang sounds like a kindhearted person. Little Sun from the library is not bad either... As long as she feels better, that's better than anything else."

They still worried about the "Comrade Song" hiding behind the scenes, but the little bits of happiness revealed in their daughter's letter and the gradually unfolding life were like a faint light, dispelling the haze in their hearts. As long as their daughter was fine, the rest could only be taken one step at a time.

Lin Xueyin hadn't completely forgotten Song Zhiyuan's existence. The pebble and the unopened chocolate were still the most conspicuous "decorations" on her desk, silently reminding her of another side of reality.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, after the joy had subsided, fear and confusion would once again strike. He was like a huge shadow, hanging over her sky that seemed to be gradually clearing up, and she didn't know when it would cast a haze again.

But at least, this spring, she learned not to wallow in fear. She began to try to find her own sunshine in the cracks of the shadows. She worked hard, treated others sincerely, and tried to salvage those small, yet certain, moments of happiness from the ordinary and trivial days.

It was another weekend, and Sister Jiang suggested going to Beihai Park for boating.

"The willow trees along the North Sea are just beautiful at this time, and the lake is thawed, making boating the most pleasant experience!"

Lin Xueyin was a little hesitant, as she had never rowed a boat before.

"What are you afraid of? I'm here!" Sister Jiang patted her chest.

It was a beautiful spring day, with a clear blue sky. Beihai Park was bustling with people, and all sorts of small boats were bobbing on the lake. Willow branches, like smoke, brushed across the water, creating shimmering waves.

Lin Xueyin and Sister Jiang rented a small boat, with Sister Jiang at the helm. Lin Xueyin was a little nervous at first and held the oars stiffly, but with Sister Jiang's guidance and laughter, she gradually relaxed and clumsily learned to row.

The boat swayed slowly towards the center of the lake, a cool breeze carrying moisture wafting down my face. In the distance, the white pagoda was reflected in the emerald water, and tourists crowded the shore, laughing and talking.

Lin Xueyin looked at this lively scene and listened to Sister Jiang humming a lively old song she had never heard before. Suddenly, she felt that the depression that had been pent up in her chest seemed to have quietly dissipated a lot with the spring breeze and the waves.

She raised her head, squinting her eyes as she felt the warm sunlight, and the corners of her mouth lifted unconsciously, revealing a carefree, relaxed smile. That smile, reflected in the shimmering water, was bright and vivid.

At this moment, she temporarily forgot all the uneasiness and constraints, and simply enjoyed this rare spring leisure, the warmth of friendship, and the simple happiness that a young girl should have.

This brief, stolen freedom and joy, like the prelude to spring, though she didn't know how long it would last, had already left a warm and bright mark in her heart. She was like a tenacious blade of grass, under the weight of a boulder, still striving to stretch out her tender leaves towards the sunlight in the cracks.