Chapter 39
When they arrived at the fish market under the Galata Bridge, there were so many people that Tang Yuchuan and Zou Ping felt like they were walking through the crowd.
The air was filled with the salty sea breeze and the aroma of fried fish, mixed with the shouts of the fishermen. Tang Yuchuan suddenly stopped and bought two freshly fried fish sandwiches from the vendor, handing one to Zou Ping.
"Try this." His tone was natural, leaving no room for negotiation.
Zou Ping took it, took a bite, and groaned softly at the heat. Her eyes lit up, "It's a bit too delicious."
Tang Yuchuan looked at her expression with a smile, as if he had known this would happen.
They continued walking forward, and he did not bother to explain the ancient buildings, but suddenly led her into an alley that no one noticed.
At the end of the alley was a dilapidated blue wall with a line of scribbled sentences in Turkish on it.
Tang Yuchuan translated it on his mobile phone and handed it to her. The general meaning was - we will eventually grow old with the wind, but today's light is new.
Zou Ping stared at the line of words, her heart trembling slightly.
She didn't say anything, but just reached out and touched the mottled blue paint, and a little dust came on her fingertips.
They walked and stopped along the way, and before they knew it, the sun was setting.
There are many ferries docked on the Bosphorus Strait. The setting sun dyes the entire water surface deep orange, and seabirds fly past the side of the ships.
Tang Yuchuan didn't say much, he just took off the scarf and gently wrapped it around Zou Ping. His movements were so natural as if he had done it countless times.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Don't catch a cold." His tone was casual, yet it so easily penetrated her defenses, the defenses in her heart.
Not far away, a little boy was drawing a crooked boat on the ground with chalk.
Tang Yuchuan stopped, squatted down, took out a few coins from his pocket and put them in the boy's hat.
The boy looked up, his eyes shining like newly polished glass.
Zou Ping looked at this scene, a gentle smile on her lips. She wanted to take out her phone to take a picture, but Tang Yuchuan was too quick, and by the time she remembered, he had already returned to her side.
It doesn’t matter, Zou Ping thought, she had already captured this scene with her eyes. She thought that when she returned to the hotel tonight, she would draw this scene into a painting.
The wind came from the sea, blowing Zou Ping's scarf.
Tang Yuchuan reached out to hold her hair, his fingertips touching the ends of her hair. For a moment, she could almost hear the rhythm of her own heart overlapping with the breathing of the city.
Zou Ping suddenly spoke, her voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the wind: "If there were colors right now, what color do you think they would be?"
Tang Yuchuan glanced at her and smiled: "Maybe it's blue. But not cold, the kind of blue you get when the wind blows across the sea."
"Blue?" Zou Ping repeated softly, the corners of her mouth slightly raised. "I thought you would say orange, the color of the sunset."
"Orange is beautiful too." Tang Yuchuan looked out at the sea, his eyes drenched in the twilight. "Perhaps every color is right. It's just that my first reaction was blue. I often feel that blue is like time itself: quiet, yet constantly flowing."
She turned her head to look at him, the wind ruffling a few strands of her hair: "It sounds like your personality."
Tang Yuchuan smiled and did not deny it. He just raised his hand and gently tucked her hair behind her ears.
Zou Ping seemed to have suddenly thought of something and fell silent.
If we say that Tang Yuchuan is blue, there is nothing wrong with this metaphor itself, but there is a person who is more appropriately described as blue.
Tan Jing.
Although they only met once.
But, somehow, Tan Jing's image suddenly emerged in her mind. Her features were clean, almost flimsy, and her eyes were devoid of any sharpness. Yet, it was this very restraint that made her resemble a faded watercolor, so quiet that she seemed out of this world.
She thought of her almost instantly.
At that moment, she suddenly had a strange feeling: the two of them seemed like tides naturally growing in the same ocean, and she was just a passerby who happened to come in.
A passerby who brings color and breath, but always has to be careful not to disrupt their world.
"What's wrong?" Tang Yuchuan noticed the sadness that flashed across Zou Ping's eyes.
Zou Ping looked up at him, the corners of her mouth twitched slightly, as if she was about to speak, but she held herself back.
She didn't want to turn the topic to Tan Jing in such a gentle twilight - it was neither appropriate nor seemed to puncture the tranquility of the moment for no reason.
She was silent for a moment, her gaze falling back on the deep blue sea. Her voice was as light as the wind passing over the water: "It's just... I suddenly feel that the color blue can sometimes make people sad."
Tang Yuchuan glanced at her sideways with a calm expression, and didn't seem to be in a hurry to ask the reason.
The wind passed between them, and he slowly spoke: "Blue makes people sad, perhaps because it is too much like time, vast and silent, making you realize that some things can't be kept. I often feel this way too."
What's that feeling? The feeling of not being able to keep it? Zou Ping wondered.
Is it the color, the time, or the person that can't be retained?
"I think my heartbeat and heartache all come from the color blue, just a breath away." Zou Ping looked at Tang Yuchuan with a serious and earnest expression.
She stared at him with a strange persistence in her eyes, as if she wanted to see through him, as if trying hard enough could change something, and as if she wanted to carve this moment deeply into her memory.
Tang Yuchuan looked at her for a moment, there seemed to be a smile in his eyes, but also a hint of gentle sigh.
He turned his gaze towards the sea, his voice low and steady: "Perhaps heartbeat and heartache are the tides of the same sea."
Did he understand? Did she hope he did?
Zou Ping suddenly felt a little confused. She had said that because she wanted him to understand, to understand her anxiety about the gains and losses in this relationship, to understand her love and fear for him.
But once these little thoughts were truly exposed, she knew that all she would be left with was awkwardness and helplessness.
So, she wanted to say something, but didn't, or said it ambiguously.
He answered, but it seemed like he didn't answer. Or rather, his answer was superficial.
She knew clearly that Tang Yuchuan had a lover, Tan Jing, for more than ten years. When she continued to like him, she had no right to care about many things because that was her choice.
She clearly understood this contradiction, but still couldn't control her emotions.
At this moment, she kind of hated herself for being so sensitive and willful in stirring up her emotions.
She lowered her head and gently twisted the edge of the scarf with her fingers, as if trying to sort out the tangled threads in her heart, but it seemed like she could never finish.
She kept telling herself that she didn't want to be seen through, but she also wanted to be understood. This was unreasonable to ask of anyone else. But that was just how she was. What could she do?
Zou Ping lowered her eyes, staring at the sea surface dyed with different shades by the setting sun. After a while, she whispered, "What if it's my color?"
Tang Yuchuan didn't seem to answer immediately. His eyes stayed on her profile, as if he was carefully choosing in his mind.
Finally, he spoke: "It's the wind that stirs the dusk into a bright color, with the green of the sea and mixed with the faint purple halo of the sky. It's irregular and stubborn... Sometimes it's close to dusk, sometimes close to dawn."
She was slightly startled, then laughed out loud: "Your description sounds even less reliable than my painting reviews."
"Things that are difficult to define are closer to the truth." When Tang Yuchuan said this, his voice was very low, but it revealed a calm certainty.
The wind blew her scarf gently across her chin. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the sea breeze. The colors before her, the gentle breeze, and his casual words seemed to form a complete picture together.
Zou Ping felt a throbbing in her heart, like the color flowing in the air, gentle and vivid, making her almost want to record it all on the canvas.
The residual warmth of the wind is still flowing through my fingertips, and the air seems to be filled with the moisture and light and shadow of the sea.
The spacious suite has been cleaned up, with soft lights shining on the edge of the bed and the sofa, and every corner seems to be welcoming this throbbing.
Zou Ping gently put down her scarf and touched the edge of the bed with her fingers. The surge in her heart was like ink that had not yet dried, still extending in the air.
Tang Yuchuan stood aside, his movements calm and his expression normal, as if everything that started at the seaside - the light, shadow, throbbing, and temperature had never stopped and continued here naturally.
She raised her eyes and felt the colors, air and sounds intertwined together, and throbbing and depression repeatedly rippled in her chest.
The light and wind from the seaside seem to be secretly drawn and quietly spread to the room in front of you, making this space gentle and lively.
"You've been walking around all day today, so go to bed early." Tang Yuchuan's voice was low and steady.
Zou Ping, still immersed in the memories of the sea breeze and colors, whispered, "I... want to paint a picture. About today, our today."
Tang Yuchuan nodded slightly, with tenderness in his eyes, "Then I'll go wash up first."
He walked along the side of the room and pushed open his bedroom door.
The suite features two separate bedrooms situated side by side, with a spacious living room and living area at its center.
"Yeah." Zou Ping looked at his back, and a warm feeling quietly surged in her heart.
She picked up the drawing board and touched it with her fingertips, trying to record the colors in her memory.
Just as Tang Yuchuan was about to go in, the whole room suddenly shook violently, the chandelier swayed, the floor creaked, and the sound of furniture colliding mixed with dust scattered in the air.
"Ah--!" Zou Ping screamed, the drawing board slipped from her knees, and she was shocked and fell forward.
Tang Yuchuan quickly reached out and grabbed her, trying his best to protect her in his arms. The strength in his arms was tight but not stiff, like iron and cotton.
His eyes were calm, yet filled with an unconcealable anxiety. The whole room was like a cage that was about to collapse at any moment. The light was shaking, and the air was filled with the smell of wood and dust.
"Hold on to me!" he whispered, his voice soothingly calm.
Zou Ping's heart was pounding, her mind pounding like a hammer. The fear, the throbbing, the lingering warmth of the sea breeze, the memories of the light and shadows were all pushed to the back of her mind. Only Tang Yuchuan's solid chest remained in her arms. Her hands clutched the corner of his clothes tightly, her fingertips trembling.
Dust and sawdust were flying in the room, and the vision was fragmented by the constantly shaking light.
Zou Ping's heart almost jumped out of her chest. Every shaking was like the impact of the waves. She felt the fragility of life, but also had a sense of security because of his existence.
Tang Yuchuan's breathing was steady and powerful.
Zou Ping heard his voice in her ear: "Don't be afraid, I'm here."
I don’t know how long it took, but finally... the shaking stopped temporarily.
The lights went out at some point, and darkness enveloped the surroundings. Zou Ping then realized that she was trapped by fallen furniture and debris.
The air was so thick that it was almost impossible to breathe. Dust blew through the mouth and nose, carrying a slight burnt smell.
Zou Ping's heartbeat thundered in her chest, each throb echoing through her mind. She could hear the creaking of wooden planks, the faint sound of something falling in the corner, and the whistling of air mixed with the rustling of dust particles.
Tang Yuchuan was right beside her, protecting her all the time. His breathing was low and powerful, like a taut string, supporting her in this depressing space.
Zou Ping's fingertips unconsciously clung to his sleeves, feeling the warmth of his body. In the darkness and fear, that warmth was like an invisible rope, pulling her back from the panic of drowning.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
