Chapter 1 Blind Date
[This article was first published here]
It's the annoying plum rain season.
It was drizzling when I came out of the station.
Having forgotten his umbrella, Pei Xi's hair and spring sweatshirt were soaked with moisture. He deliberately stood in front of the hall to "dry" for a while before entering his workplace.
Ancient books in the workplace are most susceptible to dampness.
"drop".
The door lock is unlocked.
This is the fingerprint unlocking system that our company just installed at the beginning of the year.
It's one of the more novel things in this building, which was built in the 1980s.
Just like Pei Qi, who had just graduated from university.
It's very new.
At that moment, Old Jiang, holding his reading glasses, stood in front of his workstation and raised his graying eyebrows: "Xiao Qi, come quickly."
Upon hearing the sound, Pei Qi quickened his pace and walked over: "What good stuff has arrived?"
Chiang Kai-shek: "Take a look."
On the protective paper of the workbench lay a thin, thread-bound book.
The book is chipped and crumbling starting from the bottom right corner.
Thread-bound books became popular after the Jiajing period of the Ming Dynasty. After a week of observation, the young man fixed his gaze on the tattered and yellowed old paper, on the red seal that had not disappeared with time.
Pei Xi: "Tianlu Linlang".
Tianlu Linlang is a library.
However, this library belonged to Emperor Qianlong.
This collection contains the most cherished items of this stamp-collecting fanatic.
Just last month, Pei Xi went to an auction to appraise the "Tianlu Linlang" collection, and the buyers in the audience spent a fortune for the incomplete half of the collection.
Old Jiang took off his reading glasses, put his hands behind his back, and said, "Are you confident? I'm leaving it to you."
The young man paused for two seconds, his gaze lingering on the book that was gradually turning into the crust of an egg tart over the course of time.
"I have confidence."
"Okay." Old Jiang took off his thick reading glasses, stretched, and said, "Then I'll leave it to you. I'm going out for a bit."
The young man's eyes were still fixed on the tattered book on the table. He sat down at his workstation and, while observing it closely, said, "Master, could you smoke less?"
There are no open flames allowed in the workplace, so when the workers say they're going out for a while, they mean they're going outside to light a candle.
Old Jiang clicked his tongue and said, "I'll go order paper from the paper mill, so you won't keep complaining about not having enough paper."
There was no reply.
The young man picked up the tweezers beside him and gently picked up a piece of crumb that had fallen from the book.
He needs to take an X-ray of the debris to see how much the fibers have aged.
Chiang Kai-shek stared at him for a long time, but the young man seemed completely oblivious.
The experienced craftsman walked away with his hands behind his back, somewhat helpless.
The people were probably almost downstairs.
The young man had barely lifted the tweezers containing the shredded paper when his brain paused for two seconds, trying to recall what his master had just said.
.
The master cannot be lost.
He sent it for testing first.
The shredded paper, dating back a century, is now being preserved in a sealed bag by a young man.
It looks a bit like a crumb that fell off a piece of puff pastry.
It is this seemingly insignificant "fragment" that, through glass slides and modern testing techniques, can make this ancient book speak.
In the afternoon, the test results showed that the fibers were severely aged and their structure had been basically lost.
"The hydrolysis and oxidation are too severe." The inspector, Sister Dan, was typing on her computer, recording the test results. "It's bamboo paper fiber. We've found a similar type of paper, haven't we?"
We're running low on paper lately.
The paper needed for the restoration work has very high requirements; it must be made using traditional methods. However, the amount needed is small, making the work laborious and unrewarding. Therefore, many paper mills are unwilling to take on the task.
"Found it." While waiting for the test results, Pei Qi had already searched the warehouse for a long time and found the only remaining piece of similar bamboo paper.
"Old Jiang really trusts Xiao Qi, he's even let go of Tianlu Linlang's collection." It was lunchtime, and the master craftsmen in the studio stopped what they were doing and started playing with the youngest child.
Su Mo was Pei Qi's fellow disciple and always protected his junior brother: "Our junior brother has extraordinary talent. When we were in our twenties, none of us could keep such composure as him."
Old He, the oldest person here, nodded in agreement: "When I was in my twenties, I was busy exchanging grain coupons for cloth coupons, making clothes, and going on blind dates. My blind date back then..."
A group of people outside the workstations were chatting enthusiastically.
The young man stood in front of the workbench, seemingly oblivious to what was happening, tidying up the paintbrushes beside the table.
I bought a new batch of paste brushes; the bristles are new, but they don't brush as well as the old ones.
I'm not very familiar with tools like the slurry brush.
He needs to find an old acquaintance.
"Senior brother, do you have any old brushes?" The young man finally raised his eyes.
"Forget about the old brush, let's go eat first." Su Mo put his arm around the young man's shoulder.
Pei Xi waved her arms wildly: "Wait...wait, let me wrap it up first."
Su Mo: "Okay, okay, okay."
Pei Qi was exceptionally serious and even a little excited as he independently restored a collection of books of the "Tianlu Linlang" level for the first time.
Emperor Qianlong's book collection.
Suddenly I realized that Emperor Qianlong's fondness for stamping documents also had its uses, providing clues to the identities of ancient books for later generations.
After finishing his meal, he took the paste brush he had borrowed from his senior and began to lightly apply paste to the yellowed old bamboo paper.
Holding the brush tightly with his fingers, he controlled the pressure—not too heavy, not too light—and the soft sheep hair brushed lightly across the old bamboo paper, stroke by stroke.
It was already past closing time, but he wanted to finish some finishing touches on the second page.
As I was scanning, my phone started vibrating in my pocket.
The young man put down the paintbrush he had taken from his senior and took out his phone.
It was a call from my third aunt.
Pei Xi answered hurriedly: "What's wrong, Third Aunt?"
"Have you set off yet? They're almost here."
A single word awakened me from my dream.
No wonder he felt like there was something he hadn't done today.
It turns out she forgot she was going on a blind date.
"Don't forget to sign, Dr. Guan," the circulating nurse reminded Guan Yue as he stepped down from the platform.
The man took off his surgical gown, which was stained with a little blood, threw it into the laundry basket, and turned around to sign the surgical record.
Those hands, with their well-defined joints, had been in close contact with the sterile gloves for too long, and were covered with a layer of damp sweat.
"Okay, I'll be going now." The man picked up the pen and signed his name with flowing strokes.
The junior apprentice on the stage nodded: "Okay, I just need to finish sewing the last hole. Senior brother, shall we eat together later?"
Before he could finish speaking, the operating room door opened with a "whoosh," and the man hurriedly left.
A few seconds later, the door slammed shut again.
The anesthesiologist yawned beside him: "Dr. Guan hasn't come off the operating table all day. He's probably fallen asleep right now. He doesn't have the energy to ask us out for a meal."
Indeed, Guan Yue was too exhausted to go out for meals or even sleep.
I took a shower in the changing room's shower room and then headed to the parking lot.
After performing three appendectomies and one biliary reconstruction, my vision is now blurry and bloodshot.
Driving was already exhausting, and with limited time and not much to spare, the man simply hired a designated driver.
When I arrived at the agreed-upon coffee shop, there were only ten minutes left before the agreed-upon time of 5 o'clock.
Ten minutes left.
Pei Qi watched helplessly as the Line 5 train heading towards Tongyun Street closed its glass doors and sped away.
It's okay, let's wait for the next one.
I'm definitely going to be late anyway.
While waiting for the subway, the young man scrolled through his chat history with his aunt.
I found the contact number of my blind date.
He wasn't very good at making phone calls, and after mentally preparing himself for three seconds, he finally pressed the dial button.
"beep--"
"beep--"
The call was connected after about the fifth beep.
"Hello." A voice came through the receiver.
Pei Xi held her phone and paused for a moment: "I'm sorry, Dr. Guan, I might be a little late."
There was no immediate response on the phone.
The young man tapped the transparent case of his phone with his fingertips and pursed his lips.
"It's nothing." A few seconds later, a steady male voice came through the receiver.
Just as Pei Qi was about to say her closing remarks, the male voice on the phone spoke again: "I'm sorry."
Pei Xi: "What?"
The voice from the receiver was exceptionally clear, with a magnetic quality: "My surname is Guan."
"..." The young man's fingertips, which were tapping on the phone case, suddenly stopped, and he pursed his lips even tighter.
He clearly remembered his aunt telling him it was "Dr. Guan"...
Throughout the year, I don't know how many times I've misheard it.
I feel I should take some time to go to the hospital to get my ears checked.
As the young man stood there in a daze, he heard the phone call end.
Is it because I didn't respond that Guan... no, Dr. Guan got angry?
Um. ,
That is indeed very impolite.
So, holding his phone, he mentally prepared himself for seven seconds before dialing again.
This time, the call was only answered on the ninth beep.
"Dr. Guan, I'm so sorry..."
The subway roared in at that moment. It was rush hour, and there were many people inside and outside the subway. People squeezed past the young man and bumped into his elbow.
A swipe of the fingertip resting on the screen.
Um.
The call has been disconnected...
Pei Xi was squeezed into the carriage by the crowd.
He thought that Dr. Guan should be able to guess that he wanted to say "sorry".
They probably don't think I deliberately called and then hung up.
Never mind, I'll explain when we meet.
The melodious piano music in the coffee shop overlapped with the busy tone of the telephone.
The man slowly put down his phone.
I remember the first time we met.
Pei Xi also hugged him.
However, his tone was much softer than before. With his arms outstretched, he took a step forward, and the young man hugged his waist.
The young man's eyes were red at the corners, and his whole body reeked of alcohol, with a hint of plum sweetness, though it was unclear whether it was from drinking.
Or maybe he was just naturally sweet.
Thinking of this, the man stirring his coffee paused slightly.
He parted his thin lips slightly, picked up his coffee, and took a sip.
A slender figure flashed past the shop window.
It slipped into the man's peripheral vision.
Fill the remaining light with the fragrance of plum blossoms.
"I'm sorry I'm late." Pei Qiren hadn't even reached the table before he started apologizing. "I even accidentally hung up the phone on the subway. I'm so sorry..."
The man sitting on the wooden sofa slowly got up.
The minimalist chandelier overhead swayed slightly, seemingly just centimeters away from colliding with the man's head.
"It's nothing." The man extended his hand, his tone humble. "Hello, Teacher Pei."
Pei Qi smiled, revealing a pair of dimples on her cheeks. "Hello, Dr. Guan."
At the same time, he reached out and shook hands with her.
Guan Yue was so tall that he could reach the chandelier, so his frame was obviously not small, and therefore his hands were also very large, with distinct knuckles, long and well-proportioned.
A warm sensation spread through my palm, as if my entire hand could be enveloped in it.
The young man's gaze slowly climbed from the hand upwards, landing on the man's handsome and well-proportioned face.
For a moment, their eyes met.
The young man with dimples smiled rather naturally.
But gradually, it became unnatural.
Why do those peach blossom eyes hidden behind half-rimmed glasses look so familiar?
etc……
This silver-gray frame...
It looks like he picked them himself.
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