Chapter 328 The Story of the Handwritten Copy
Before we knew it, it was the last day of 1974.
Lu Huailin took Hao Hao out to pay New Year's visits.
Wearing a plaid apron, Gu Yihan hummed a song as she fried her favorite New Year's treats.
Two hours later, Gu Yihan was rubbing her lower back.
My gaze fell on the neatly arranged, overflowing fried meatballs, fried lotus root, and fried ribbonfish on the stove.
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
At this moment, Zhang Mei walked in carrying a large bowl.
He called out with a smile, "Xiao Han, how's your New Year's preparation going?"
Upon hearing this, Gu Yihan walked out of the kitchen, smiled, and greeted him, saying, "It's almost ready."
Zhang Mei handed the bowl to Gu Yihan and said with a smile, "My husband Lao Zhao traded 10 quails in the production team, and I fried them into tofu balls."
"You and Commander Lu should try it out, but don't be too critical!"
Gu Yihan didn't refuse, and accepted it with a smile.
"Auntie, what are you saying?"
"These quail meatballs are a rare treat. Stew them with some cabbage and vermicelli, and the taste is so delicious you'll want to swallow your tongue."
Upon hearing this, Zhang Mei's eyes narrowed into slits with a smile; she loved talking to Gu Yihan.
He could always make her feel incredibly happy.
Gu Yihan carried a bowl into the kitchen, poured the quail tofu balls into a large porcelain basin, and casually filled a bowl with fried lotus root slices before coming out with a smile.
She noticed Zhang Min staring blankly at the handwritten sketchbook on the table.
A hint of doubt flashed in her eyes, then she smiled and said, "Auntie, I fried some lotus root. Take it home and let Tiger try it."
Zhang Mei composed herself, glanced at the fried lotus root slices in the bowl, and forced a smile.
"Xiao Han, you're being too kind."
Gu Yihan smiled slightly upon hearing this.
It's not like she's completely clueless about social interactions.
Even the best relationships require give and take; otherwise, if one person is always the one making sacrifices, the relationship will eventually fade.
Zhang Mei glanced at the table out of the corner of her eye and asked casually, "Xiao Han, do you also like this kind of black and white line drawing?"
Upon hearing this, Gu Yihan was stunned for a moment, not understanding what Zhang Mei meant, and looked at her with a puzzled expression.
Zhang Mei smiled and pointed to the handwritten sketchbook on the dining table.
"It's this kind of black and white drawing."
Gu Yihan then realized that Zhang Mei was referring to a sketch, and explained with a smile, "Auntie, this isn't a black and white drawing, it's a sketch."
"sketch?"
Zhang Mei chewed on those two words repeatedly, a hint of desolation flashing in her eyes, and said in a low voice, "Xiao Han, there's no use learning this painting technique."
“They all say that this is feudal, capitalist, and revisionist, and we can’t draw it or look at it.”
After saying that, she looked up and stared at Gu Zihan with a serious expression, and instructed her, "Xiaohan, you must never let anyone see you reading this kind of book."
Gu Yihan glanced at Zhang Mei's nervous expression and couldn't help but chuckle.
"Auntie, don't worry, this is teaching material from the shirt factory, it'll be fine."
Gu Yihan walked past Zhang Mei to the dining table, handed it to her, and said with a smile, "Auntie, take a look."
Zhang Mei quickly placed the large bowl containing the couplet on the dining table and vigorously wiped her hands on her blue clothes.
He reached out his hands and carefully took the handwritten copy.
Upon opening the package and seeing the familiar handwriting, my heart clenched instantly, my nose stung, and tears, which I could no longer hold back, rolled down my cheeks.
Gu Yihan was startled when she saw Zhang Mei crying for no apparent reason.
He quickly took her arm, helped her sit on the sofa, and gently patted her shoulder.
He whispered, "Auntie, what's wrong?"
Zhang Mei raised her eyes, wiped her cheek, and said in a trembling voice, "This is my master's hand-drawn book."
Upon hearing this, Gu Yihan's eyes widened in disbelief, and she exclaimed, "Your master?"
Zhang Mei nodded gently, crying as she recounted her story.
When she was a child, her family was poor and had nothing to eat; she was so hungry that she had no other choice.
Zhang Mei would go up the mountain to dig up wild vegetable roots to fill her stomach, and sometimes she would go into the silt in the river to catch eels.
Once, while she was catching eels, she slipped and fell into the water. Since she couldn't swim, she struggled in the water for a long time.
Just before she lost consciousness, her seemingly mad master rescued her in time.
"Crazy?"
Gu Yihan turned her head and looked at Zhang Mei with suspicion. Such a meticulously handwritten copy could not have been written by a crazy person.
Zhang Mei didn't see the doubt in Gu Yihan's eyes, but instead lowered her head and carefully stroked the handwritten copy.
"Yes, he's a bit crazy. Master is sometimes lucid and sometimes confused."
"When he was lucid, he would teach me to draw, and he would stroke my head and repeatedly tell me that I must study."
He said that studying was the only way out for girls.
Zhang Mei gave a miserable smile: "My family doesn't even have money for food, how could they possibly support a girl like me to go to school?"
Gu Yihan recalled the first time she met Zhang Mei. She was dressed in clean and tidy clothes, and spoke with a refined and deliberate way.
She doesn't seem like someone who can't read or write.
"Later, when my master was sober, he saw that I was not in school, so he started to teach me to read and write. When he had time, he taught me to draw and told me stories that I had never heard before."
When Zhang Mei said this, her eyes were bright, as if she were lost in some beautiful memory.
But soon her face showed sadness, and her voice was low and tearful.
"Later, when my master died, he said he remembered who he was and where he lived, and he wanted to go home."
"But he died before he could get home."
Hearing Zhang Mei's words, Gu Yihan felt a tightness in her chest and couldn't help but sigh deeply.
"Later, I looked at the handwritten copies he left me, but I didn't recognize the characters."
"We could only use a fire poker to trace the patterns on it over and over again."
"I wasn't able to read all the words on it until my two children graduated from high school."
Gu Yihan looked at Zhang Mei, a hint of heartache flashing in her eyes. She reached out and held Zhang Mei's hand tightly, offering silent comfort.
Zhang Mei smiled slightly at Gu Yihan and said gratefully, "Xiaohan, thank you for listening to your auntie say so much."
Gu Yihan smiled and shook her head, then asked softly, "Does Auntie still have her handwritten copy?"
A hint of sadness flashed in Zhang Mei's eyes as she shook her head and said, "She's gone."
“Back in 1968, Old Zhao was worried that those books would bring disaster to the family, so he burned them all behind my back.”
Upon hearing this, Gu Yihan's anger surged instantly.
That was Zhang Mei's cherished memory, yet Zhao Xu burned it without even asking her.
He has absolutely no respect for his wife who has shared joys and sorrows with him.
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