Chapter 108: Journey to the Buddhist Temple
As the man said, he was below, below the piano bench, and below the time.
But it goes far beyond that, onto the piano keys.
The moonlight reflected from the piano lid swam on the wall, and it was not only the moonlight that swam, but also the curve of the spine of the silver fish as it glided past.
Zhou Junheng's tie hung casually, and as the buttons of his shirt undone, the piano resonated faithfully, with waves of sound surging from the bass.
Her knees crushed over it, and the sudden force of gravity on a certain key might have bounced back the next second, so the unfinished piano sounds were suspended in mid-air, like the swaying prisms on a crystal chandelier, or like her unstable body.
The hair clung to the smooth lacquered surface of the piano like seaweed entwined around a ship bound for the warm ocean.
The waves in the deep sea grew higher and higher, and the zither music became increasingly dissonant...
The voyage has reached the end of the sea area, and we encountered another high wave tonight.
Those who take risks and feel the waves are more excited at this moment.
When Ye's nails pressed the heaviest scratch on the Eb key, beads of sweat fell down Zhou Junheng's chin.
The entropy value of the entire piano room (indicating the degree to which heat is converted into work) reached its peak.
Second song, finished.
…
This night.
As the last chord faded, ice flowers formed outside the French windows.
The lines spread by the crystals on the glass are just like the silver traces faintly visible under the piano room and the girl's silk.
The forgotten hot drink is no longer hot, and white steam is lingering on the music stand, interweaving with the residual sound waves in the piano resonance box to form visible warmth.
The outline of Jingshan Mountain visible from the window became clearer and clearer as the sky brightened.
…
When she woke up again, she only smelled the fragrance in the room.
The vase in the piano room was knocked over last night, so Zhou Junheng had roses delivered early this morning.
He knew that she liked to arrange flowers herself, so he didn't do it for her in other rooms, only the master bedroom.
The man left a note saying:
[The thorns may prick your hands, so be careful!]
[If you're bored, you can ask your friends to come over and hang out with you. I'll be back in the afternoon, so don't worry.]
I could almost imagine his expression as he wrote these two sentences, stroke by stroke. The exclamation mark after "cautious" must have made his brows furrowed, worried but also not wanting her to be alone and bored...
She smiled sweetly as she thought about it. Her emotions became more sensitive after pregnancy.
But because of his thoughtfulness, she smiled even more.
He was on a morning schedule, and it was only about nine o'clock. His suggestions were completely practical:
She planned to invite a flower arrangement teacher to her house and give him a bouquet of flowers.
I called Sheng Li and asked her if she wanted to come, but she seemed to be still asleep?
Her voice was too hoarse and weak.
He was also worried when he heard it: "Your throat sounds very dry. If you are sleepy, don't come. Get some more sleep. Remember to drink water. If you catch a cold again, you will be doomed."
I was still muttering in my heart: The Department of Foreign Affairs is really busy at the end of the year, and the excessive overtime is too exaggerated.
Sheng Li paused for a moment, as if he had drunk some water to moisten his throat.
It was a little better than the muteness just now: "I'm fine. I was fine this morning."
"I'll go over and keep you company later. You'll get bored easily by yourself, and I'm worried about you."
"You should catch up on your sleep~ I feel like you're sleepy."
Shi Ye was choked for a moment. Why didn't anyone trust her?
Sheng Li's response was even more direct than before: "...Uh, I'm not sleepy. I'll catch up on my sleep another day. I'll be there soon. Wait for me."
Refuse space when it is not given at all.
She nodded obediently: "Oh, okay."
He added: "But I'm not in a hurry, so don't be in a hurry."
"Drink some more water." As soon as Shi Qing spoke, Sheng Li immediately heard that his throat was not much better.
His hand holding the cup was still cupped in front of her, just like when he was talking to Shi Ye on the phone. Sheng Li drank from it while he was holding it. But now, it seemed that he still had no intention of putting it down.
I wasn't awake just now, but now that I'm awake, other shy emotions have surfaced.
Even though it wasn't her first time with him, she still felt embarrassed.
"I don't want to drink anymore... You drink it, your throat is hoarse too."
Shi Qing drank it, but not much. She didn't change the cup and continued to drink from the same direction as before.
When he thought about when he got up just now, Sheng Li blushed.
I used to think he was such a decent guy, but now he's so playful and his actions are really not concealed at all.
"You said last night that you wouldn't make a fuss, and now our throats are still like this. You really are..." Sheng Li didn't want to say the adjective that followed.
But Shi Qing had no self-awareness at all and answered very frankly: "The sound insulation can't all be wasted."
Sheng Li: "? Is this how sound insulation is used?"
The chuckle in Shi Qing's voice was completely cheerful: "Ali, there's no rule for this... Besides, you only screamed because it's soundproof, okay?"
His last question really made Sheng Li lose his temper and the topic could not be continued.
The phrase "dying of shame and anger" is really the most appropriate. She buried her face completely in the quilt.
She kicked him and warned him, "Stop talking, stop talking... Take it out now!"
She really had no way to deal with him in this regard.
The warning was so minimal that Sheng Li didn't know that her soft tone really had no deterrent effect at all.
The answer to whether he went out is obvious.
If Shi Qing had listened to Sheng Li, their voices might not have been so hoarse.
It can only be said that Shi Ye’s last reminder, “Don’t be anxious,” was so on point that Sheng Li could no longer be anxious because her whole body was soft.
…
There was icicles on the copper ring of the west corner gate of the Summer Palace.
A black Mercedes-Benz turned off its engine and parked under the ginkgo tree at the side door of the temple like a piece of black jade.
The moment the car door opened and closed, it startled the flock of birds under the copper bells on the eaves, but did not disturb any monks who were attending morning prayers - the temple warden had received three pieces of gold-sprinkled paper last night, and the old license plate had been removed in advance.
The hem of Zhou Junheng's black cashmere coat was lifted by the cold wind. It was too cold in front of the palace on that early winter morning, but his expression did not change at all and remained solemn.
Three abbots in red robes came to greet us along the swept path. They led the way silently, and everything was done in a very low-key manner.
Huang Qian followed the abbot's direction and looked towards the west side hall.
The abbot counted his rosary beads and sighed, "Donor, the heaviest snow in the world never falls on your shoulders."
"The answer lies in whether the donor's heart is colder than snow."
The words written in cinnabar ink on the merit book were presented to Huang Qian:
“May the donor have good fortune, if not, then learn to be strong in compassion;”
“May the donor receive what he desires. If not, then learn to be happy in loneliness.”
His "getting what she wanted" referred to the question she had just asked: "Why is this world so unfair? Some people have so much love, but she only wants to be loved by one person, but she can't get it. Why? Can't she have just this one person?"
The cinnabar red characters are soft and delicate, and seem to slowly instill faith in those who seek help.
But Huang Qian gave a wry smile, she was too helpless and too clear-headed. She blurted out her pessimism:
"Strength has left me covered in wounds, and loneliness has made me dwell on the past."
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