Extra 1
The small kitchen was filled with bottles and jars. There were so many things that a wooden board was nailed to the wall, which was also filled up. There were thumbtacks nailed under the board, and frying pans, milk pans, and steamer baskets from small to large were hung on them. The small stove was also piled with seasoning jars and kettles.
But even in such a cramped place where you can barely turn around, the tiles and range hoods are polished to a shine, and even the back of the seasoning box, where dirt and grime are most likely to hide, is spotless. As soon as you enter, the glutinous aroma of rice hits your nose.
There is a small table behind the stove with a chopping board, a kitchen knife and half a potato on it. It must be that they had just cooked, and the oil and soup in the pot were still hot. The hot steam floated to the window and formed fog. The hot and cold water droplets flowed down the window, and you could vaguely see a vast expanse of white outside.
The living room was quieter than usual, with only the sound of dishes colliding.
The living room is also small. A few steps and a door lead to the balcony. Next to the balcony door are two rattan chairs covered with blankets and a small table where you can bask in the sun when the sun is good during the day. There are several children's storybooks piled on the tea table, and a half-knitted sweater on the rattan chair.
But at this moment, the old wooden door on the balcony that creaked and swayed when pushed was locked, and the radiator was dragged to the living room. A little black child was sitting on his chair next to the wooden table, with his hands on his chin, his furry eyelashes blinking again and again, silently looking at the stranger sitting opposite him. The man was holding a plate and slurping shredded potatoes into his mouth, even not letting go of the oil and soup. The little black child secretly glanced at his mother who was sitting next to the stranger. She also held her hands on her chin, looking at the stranger, his eyebrows, his face, his hair... She was fascinated and couldn't take her eyes off him. She smiled as if she was having a dream that she had already had for the first half of her life and didn't want to wake up from for the second half.
But that man was not good-looking at all, the little black boy thought. He looked "old" all over. Why was he old? There was a long, deep scar on the right corner of his mouth, which was all black. And his right eye was gray and white, as if covered with a layer of lime. His eyelashes were black, long, thick, and furry, curling upwards. He was dusty and covered with dirt from the journey. In the blink of an eye, the dirt fluttered everywhere under the light.
Not only that, there were also many scars on his neck and arms exposed under his rolled-up sleeves, some horizontal and some vertical, like a patchwork rag doll sewn together with needle and thread. No, not a rag doll. He was tall, strong, and dark, with dark skin and black eyelashes. The darkest thing was his one good eye, which was like the night and the raging fire. He looked more like a big Tibetan mastiff, a big Tibetan mastiff that had suffered many injuries.
After my mother got this old uncle, she no longer wanted him. She used to hug him and kiss him, sing to him, and give him a bath every day when she came home, but today she didn't even look at him.
The more the little black boy looked, the higher his mouth pouted, the corners of his mouth shrunk, tears welled up in his eyes, and he jumped off the chair without a word and ran back to his room, hiding himself in the quilt. But after a while, he became worried again.
After dinner, the mother gave the little black boy a bath and took him to the bedroom to coax him to sleep. After turning off the lights, she kissed his little face, leaving wet tears, and said, "Tiantian, go to sleep."
Tiantian is too young to understand that sometimes crying is not because of sadness, but because of happiness.
He was worried, so he sneaked out of the bedroom, walked through the dark living room, and leaned against the wall to see that there was a light on in the bathroom.
He saw the big Tibetan mastiff sitting in the bathtub, its body seemed to be sewn together piece by piece. His mother was bent over with her sleeves rolled up high, her skirt was soaked by water, and her face was covered with soap foam. She gently rubbed his hair and said with a smile, "You are so dirty! You can't make foam with so many shampoos. I'll cut off all your hair!" After that, she turned around and squeezed a lot of shampoo into her palm. At this time, Tiantian saw the big Tibetan mastiff in the bathtub move. He hugged his knees and turned his head, staring at his mother motionlessly, but when his mother turned around, he lowered his head again.
His mother knew nothing. She rubbed his hair and murmured softly, saying that after all these years, no snack in Shenzhen could compare to the Old Walnut Crisp, that pork prices had gone up again, and that the milk seller wouldn't come during the New Year, so he had to go to the supermarket...
She was muttering to herself while using the showerhead to rinse the foam off the big Tibetan Mastiff's head. She didn't notice him slowly raising his head and looking at her. His eyes followed wherever she turned her head, lingering greedily on her face. His eyeballs, which were as gray and white as dead fish, came alive and sparkled.
As he looked at her, he slowly kissed her face and the corner of her lips.
Tiantian felt strange and familiar with this scene. That vague shadow had once kissed her mother's lips so passionately. At that time, she had no expression at all, her face was cold and her eyes were lifeless, but she did not struggle or curse. But now, she jumped up and slapped the big Tibetan Mastiff on the back. Her face turned red, her ears turned red, and she shouted, "What are you doing!" But her eyes were as charming as the red koi in the clear spring in summer. She swung her smart tail, creating a circle of ripples that spread to the corners of her mouth.
This really confused Tiantian. Not only was he confused, he was also sleepy. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the big Tibetan Mastiff again. It was behaving well even after being beaten. So he felt relieved and went back to sleep.
The crackling sound of firecrackers outside the window rang all night long. The mist on the bedroom window dispersed and condensed again. The fireworks blooming in the night sky turned into hazy halos, lighting up and then extinguishing.
The woman on the bed had wet hair draped over her naked back. She lay on top of the man, her fingertips gently stroking the uneven scars on his chest, which was covered with large beads of sweat. She was too tired to open her eyes, but she was still listening to his heartbeat greedily.
"Call me sister." She suppressed the heat in her eyes, raised her head and rested her chin on his chest and smiled. The man laughed too, and the vibration of his chest made her ears itch. A pair of dry hands stroked her back, rubbing her waist and hips mischievously, leaving a red spot. "Sister."
"Chimpanzee, if you don't listen, I will beat you." She buried her face in her neck. The man looked at the ceiling, smiled and listened quietly to her muffled sobs.
"You've forgotten everything."
"Yeah." He smiled. There was a scar across his neck, so he could only speak in a whisper. "I forgot everything."
"Then you just happened to be passing by here, and seeing that I, an orphan and a widow, was easy to bully, you got tempted by my beauty." She cried breathlessly.
He smiled even wider, "Well, for someone like me, being able to sleep with such a beautiful woman in this life is like dying under a peony flower, and even becoming a ghost is like being romantic."
"Who told you to say the word 'die'!" The woman jumped up and leaned over him, glaring at him angrily, but her red eyes, swollen from crying, could not even open. She felt more wronged than courage. She turned over and tried to get off him, but his arms had already held her tightly, making her unable to move. His straight, deep eyes, one black and one white, looked up at her in the flickering fireworks. He stroked her face to wipe away the traces of tears, and his hot, rough palms rubbed her, causing her to shiver with pain and itchiness.
"I had a dream," he said, his hoarse voice in the darkness like the melodious whistle of a train coming from afar.
"In my dream, I took a train for two days and one night. I leaned against the window and looked out. I saw the forest turn into barren mountains and the tall buildings turn into chimneys emitting black smoke. The uncle next to me made me instant noodles and added ham sausage. The smell made my mouth water. He kept talking to me, saying that he had a little sister at home who was so cute and I would definitely love her. I didn't believe him. He just wanted me to call him dad. I thought to myself that my dad had died a long time ago and I would never call him dad. I would get to his house and run away as soon as I got a chance. I didn't eat a single bite of the instant noodles he made for me."
"But as soon as I got to his house..." He smiled in the darkness, one hand rubbing the woman's hair in his arms, rubbing it into her hair, "I thought I'd never leave again."
"I stayed and slept next to her. I kissed her secretly, but no matter how much I kissed her, it was never enough. Later, when she was watching TV, I moved a stool to sit next to her. She watched TV while I watched her. I gave her the toys my uncle bought me first. I wanted to make her happy and give her all the best things. But I had nothing. I only had myself."
"Later, I dreamed that my uncle had passed away, and my aunt had also passed away. I was so anxious. I had to support her and pay for her education, but I had so little money. Every day when I opened my eyes, I wondered what I was going to do with the small change in my drawer. But I was so proud. I raised her well. She has fair skin and beautiful hair, like a big peony. I raised her by myself, and I was the one who sent her to college."
He smiled and studied her face, as if still immersed in that beautiful dream. The woman's hot tears dripped onto his scarred face, intoxicating like cracked land moistened by rain. "Finally, after graduating from college, she didn't look for a job outside and came back to be with me. We opened a small restaurant together, and she even gave birth to a son for me."
"Such a beautiful dream." He smiled foolishly, "I want to find it."
"After waking up, I walked along the road in my dream. I took the train, got off the train and took the bus. I found the home where she and I grew up together, found the restaurant we opened, and saw the person in my dream. She was busy in the kitchen alone, and our son was carrying soda to each table, calling her uncle and aunt. He was as pitiful as she was."
"I just stood there and watched, waiting for everyone to leave before going in." He laughed, "The little guy even stopped me and wouldn't let me in."
He finished speaking, and the woman clutched her chest, sobbing heartbreakingly. He pulled off her hairband, his quiet white eyes like a clear lake as he kissed her cold temple bone, cheek, and neck… He rolled over and pressed her under him, licking her tears and the shell of her ear, and whispered in her ear, "I love you."
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