Chapter 46
The booming business in Zhou Yue's shop was purely a coincidence. One day, a young girl got separated from her tour group and was too lazy to contact the tour guide. She accidentally walked into Zhou Yue's shop by herself and discovered a new world. At that time, Zhou Yue only made silk scarves. The shape and pattern of each scarf were different, but the color was always blue: indigo, lake blue, cloisonné, peacock blue... On a hot day in Shenzhen, walking through the bustling crowd in the ancient city and into this quiet and peaceful shop, you are greeted by a cool comfort and a sense of "unity" that makes you feel at ease.
People always yearn for mystery. This store is too secluded, not to mention that the proprietress is such a cold beauty. She never wears makeup and always wears a suspender skirt made of shantung silk. She is alone in the store tying cloth strips and painting fan patterns. Her black hair is loosely tied up. A breeze blows through, and her silky black hair flutters in the wind. Her snow-white skin is as bright as the moon. I heard that her name is Yue.
Just standing there and looking at it, without buying anything, and smelling the faint fragrance wafting from the shop, will remind you of the line from "Yangzhou Slow": "The Twenty-Four Bridges are still there, the waves are rippling, the cold moon is silent. Thinking of the red peony by the bridge, I know for whom it blooms every year."
The little girl bought a silk scarf with a star and moon pattern, and the proprietress tied it on her with her own hands. She was so fascinated that she couldn't walk anymore. She walked out of the door and became a little trumpet, singing all the way back to Shanghai along the Shenzhen River. Word spread from one person to ten, from ten to a hundred, and from a hundred to a thousand. Since then, the store has been visited by tourists in an endless stream.
Zhou Yue looked confusedly at the tourists who were walking around the store with curious looks on their faces. They were holding the things she made, looking at them, comparing them, and wearing them happily, as if they were holding some interesting toys.
She was busy, so busy that she was filled with joy. Other shop owners would wait for you to come in and pay without saying a word, but she always had a sewing kit on her waist. She would go back and forth to try on a tie-dyed halter dress for customers, squatting on the ground and holding up the hem of the dress for customers, saying, "It's too long." Then she would stand behind the customer and gently lift the waist of the dress up, comparing it in the full-length mirror, "It would look better with some wrinkles..." As she spoke, she held the needle and thread in her mouth. After a few stitches, a common bohemian dress became a designer style. However, she would never use the gimmick of "designer style" to charge exorbitant prices. Her things were always cheaper than those of other handicraft shops. The reason was simple: her location was not convenient, and the rent could not compare with other shops in all aspects, so the prices naturally could not compare with others.
When it was time to purchase goods (mainly cloth and dyes), Jiang Huai would always send someone over. The person who came was different every time. The people around him were used to being domineering. Every time they came in from the front door, the car would brake suddenly, scaring the customers who came early and unable to dodge. She couldn't help but say it once, which was better, but men don't know how to be gentle and careful after all. Putting something in makes a lot of noises. She didn't want to say anything more, so she just asked someone to come earlier so as not to scare the customers in the store. Jiang Huai agreed to this request very happily.
But there would be one day a week, sometimes more than a week, or even two weeks, when no one was at the front door. After she was busy for that period, there was no one in the store. Usually, a small calico cat would take advantage of the quiet time to come in from the back door with lazy cat steps, eating slickly, with its big fluffy tail raised high. It would lightly jump onto the glass counter, admire its beauty in the mirror for a while, then fall to the ground with a thud, and roll to Zhou Yue's legs like a solid lead ball, rubbing against them. If Zhou Yue was sitting on a high stool, she would jump onto her legs, turn around, lie down, sigh deeply, and take a comfortable nap.
But on days like this, the kitten would not come to sleep with her. She would hang up a sign that said "lunch break", walk through the store and go to the back door. The kitten's gentle meows were faintly heard in the draft.
She walked to the back door, leaned against the wooden door frame and smiled. Her long black hair sparkled in the sunlight, and a few strands of hair hung down, fluttering in the wind along with the smile lines at the corners of her mouth.
"Flatterer." She laughed, tilting her head to look lovingly at the kitten nestled in the man's arms, "You won't recognize me when you see me."
He was extremely tall, and the long-haired cat, as fat as a gas tank, could not only spin around in his arms, but also stand up like a human, with its two front paws resting on his chest, and rubbing its furry little head against his Adam's apple and chin, and his fur, making his black pants look like felt.
He chuckled like a fool, said "hmm" honestly, glanced at her quickly, and smiled as he lowered his head, "She missed me."
"Hmph, she missed you?" She put her hands behind her back, slipping on her bamboo slippers, and slowly walked to the edge of the bamboo forest. There was a bench there, and the man was sitting on it, sitting in the swaying shadows of the trees. She sat beside him casually, looking at the mountains and white clouds in the distance. "She missed Guan Guan."
"Yeah." He smiled even wider, lowered his head and slowly smoothed the fur on the kitten's back, without saying a word, just waiting, waiting for her to glance at him with great arrogance and disdain, move over to stroke the kitten's fluffy fur with him, lean on his arm, and after a while, she couldn't help but put it up, resting her chin on his shoulder, looking at his rolling Adam's apple with seductive eyes, her eyelashes lightly brushing his jaw, and murmured: "But I miss you." Her hand covered the back of his hand, slowly taking off his black gloves, her fingertips caressing his exposed muscles, softening his tense hands, and interlocking their fingers, "Don't you miss me?" She smiled and watched him turn his face away, his chest heaving violently. After a while, he turned around and bit her lips, impatient like a young boy who had never touched a woman...
In the days when we are looking forward to it day and night, such moments are especially precious. Cloth and dyes are piled up in the corner, neatly arranged, and moved in silently. The kraft paper packaging is curled up by the sun, and it bursts with a slight snap amidst an uncontrollable gasp.
The sun moved westward, and against the white wall, in a patch of orange sunlight, overlapping figures intertwined, entwined and infatuated. The woman raised her slender neck, her tied-up hair falling, swaying on the wall with the trembling shadows of bamboo leaves. The man in her arms looked up at her, as if gazing at the distant moon, waiting for her to lean over and cup his face, kiss his chapped mouth, and lick and smooth out his ugly scars...
They fell in love in an empty corner, in the cracks of time, and when the hands started turning again, only the woman was left sitting alone on the high stool, with a drunken flush on her cheeks. She hurriedly adjusted her skirt, tied up her scattered hair in the mirror, and ripples appeared at the corners of her rosy lips.
She stared long and hard through the mirror at the coffee table behind her, where guests could rest. On it lay two iron lunch boxes: one with shredded potatoes and green peppers, the other with scrambled eggs and tomatoes, and a small porcelain bowl filled with rice that was practically overflowing, resembling a small hillock. The more she looked, the wider the smile lines at the corners of her lips spread. She murmured dreamily, "You're feeding the pigs?"
But every time she would eat until not a grain of rice was left, and she would not be able to eat dinner anymore. After finishing her work in the store, she would call Jiang Huai. He would usually answer the phone quickly. When he didn't, she would send a text message, "I'm ready." A car would come to pick her up soon.
Jiang Huai would come back in the evening, and sometimes he wouldn’t come back. In that case, he would call her. Receiving a call from Jiang Huai in the evening was the happiest thing for Zhou Yue because he wouldn’t come back.
At such times, she would sleep peacefully in the small bedroom on the first floor. She was too tired, too busy, and too fulfilled. After taking a shower, she lay in the quilt with her legs sore. She leaned against the head of the bed in the light of a small desk lamp to review her homework. The small desk beside the bed was piled with textbooks and drawing books. The little notebook with stars and moons that Xiao Yuan bought for her in the bookstore was already full of notes and sticky notes. When exam week came, even the walls were covered with sticky notes. A small room where servants lived was made to look like a college dormitory by her, except for the large rosewood wardrobe in the corner that was heavy and depressing.
But it didn't matter. She lay down, covered with the quilt so that only her eyes were exposed, and lay on the pillow, secretly looking at a drawer of the large cabinet for a long time. Then she got up and walked barefoot to the door to listen. There was no movement. Only then did she dare to take out the moon hairpin, hold it in the palm of her hand, and look at it, stroking it gently. The diamonds shone brightly under the dim table lamp, like a dazzling galaxy.
After she had seen enough, she hid herself carefully, climbed back into bed, turned off the lights, and then fell asleep contentedly.
In the dream, he still looked like a child, with a round little head, chubby little black hands, only the palms were slightly white. In the dark night, he held his chin with both hands, and looked at her infatuatedly in the bright moonlight. When his eyes turned and he smiled, her white eyeballs and white teeth could be seen. In the dream, she could even burst out laughing.
When he saw her smile, he also laughed hoarsely. His voice was hoarse the whole time, and he called her "Yueyue" hoarsely. He pecked her lips carefully, and when he saw that she didn't lose her temper, he pecked her again, and again...
"Just kiss me, why are you being so sneaky..." She smiled with her eyes closed, opened her red lips slightly to hold his lips, hooked out the tip of his tongue with her tongue, sucked it, he seemed to be stunned for a moment, then responded to her kiss passionately and madly, the hot breath was wrapped in the smell of alcohol, the intoxicating smell was released in her nasal cavity, diffused, and spread... She woke up suddenly, and saw only a pair of slender willow-leaf eyes and a red mole between the eyebrows in the moonlight, and eyelashes that were so feminine that made people feel ominous, half closed, looking at her mouth, nose, and then looking into her eyes. It was obvious that he was drunk, his eyes were sluggish, staring at her straight, she was completely sober, looking at him desperately. Seeing his open shirt collar, his neck and chest as red as the mole between his eyebrows, he threw back the quilt and covered him. The tearing sound pierced her eardrums in the cramped space, "Mr. Jiang, I..." She looked at the ceiling in despair and swallowed the rest of the words back. It hurt like swallowing a needle tip, but he didn't hear it at all. He spread her legs apart and looked down at her. He stared at her blankly for a long time and laughed, "You are so fucking..." He slapped her face lightly, leaned over to her ear, and couldn't even open his drunken eyes, "Missed me?"
"Yes." She smiled, touching his shoulder, caressing his back, her hand rubbing into the roots of his hair, "I was still thinking about you not coming back."
"You little thing is hooking me," he thrust in without warning, causing her to gasp in pain. He licked her tears, breathing in the alcohol in her ear, and smiled foolishly, "How can I not come back?"
He was slower than before after drinking. When she was unconscious from the pain, he fell down exhausted and fell asleep with his face buried in her neck. She stared blankly at the ceiling and listened. His face was buried in the pillow and she couldn't hear his breathing. She was so nervous that her heart was pounding. But after a while, he took a deep breath, turned his head and lay face outward on her to sleep soundly, breathing evenly and snoring lightly. She was left alone with her eyes open until dawn, her heart colder than the gray sky.
He slept for a long time, and when he woke up he sat by the bed for a long time. "You like sleeping here so much." His voice was hoarse. He stood up naked and walked over slowly. He casually tore off a piece of note and looked at it. He smiled, but he didn't look very happy.
"I'm scared if you don't come back." She covered her chest with the quilt and carefully watched his expression. She eagerly picked up a wearable piece of clothing from the floor and put it on first. She ran upstairs to get one of his nightgowns and put it on him. While tying the belt for him, she whispered, "I'm afraid of sleeping alone. This small room is more comfortable to sleep in."
"Hmm." He was reading a small notebook with stars and moons in his hands, and hummed noncommittally. He nodded after reading the last page, closed the notebook and examined it carefully. "Who doesn't yearn for the ivory tower? Come to think of it, I haven't been studying for many years. I originally wanted to apply to the Department of Architecture, but there are not so many peaceful days. I relied entirely on reading books and newspapers. I even learned piano from Jiang Pingnan. I listened in the attic. Hum, idiot, he taught me over and over again, and I know it all, but he still hasn't."
"You've seen him on TV, right?" He smiled and looked up at her. Seeing her nod, he nodded too. He put down the notebook and sat back on the bed, gazing at the gray sky. He sighed dejectedly, as if the past was too far away. What he felt was no longer anger and hatred, but boredom. "He's handsome, a very talented person. When you saw him... I should have been standing behind his family. I didn't even have the qualifications to speak in front of the microphone."
"But now it's just you. They're all gone." Zhou Yue stood at the end of the bed and looked at him. "You win." He listened, still looking out the window with a sense of loss. After a while, he smiled, a helpless smile. He lifted his eyelids and looked at her. "You are getting better and better at flattering me. You're flattering me so blatantly. You won't let me go even if I don't care." He stood up and walked towards her, holding her face and looking around, as if looking for something. "Give me money, treat your mother's illness, give you the opportunity to return to the ivory tower, and even let you open a shop. What else do I need to give you in order for you to give me a little heart?"
"I'm sincere." She raised her hand to cover his, rubbing her cheek against his palm. He looked at her, his smile becoming mischievous. "But as a woman," he patted her face, "being sincere in bed is enough."
"Okay, I'm going to take a shower." He stretched and walked out the door in his slippers, heading to the second floor. "I have something else to do today, so hurry up and take a shower and come up."
"good."
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