Chapter 10 Red Tomatoes Under the Shooting Stars
# Chapter 10 Red Tomatoes Under the Meteor
The weekend arrived as expected, and the backyard was filled with the blended aroma of vanilla and honey. Grandma Zhang and a few other women were setting up a display stand under the grape trellis. The display was covered with a blue cloth that Chen Wang had dyed with grape skins a few days ago, and it was faintly printed with leaf veins. Uncle Li, carrying a ladder, was polishing the wooden sign that read "Qingxi Village Traditional Variety Cultural and Creative Workshop" with a soft cloth, polishing it to a gleaming red finish. Lin Xiaoman, wearing a new light blue dress, held a thin ribbon between her fingers as she bent down to tie a star-shaped tomato decoration—a characteristic of the village's traditional tomato varieties, their slightly angular shape resembling a tiny star. Her movements were gentle, afraid of damaging the fruit. Her hair fell down to frame her eyebrows, and the sunlight fell on her hair, casting a soft, golden edge on it.
"Reporters are almost here. Xiaowang, please go over your story again, focusing on the unique features of our traditional breed!" the village director shouted excitedly over a megaphone. This was the first time county-level media had come to Qingxi Village for an interview. Even the usually sedentary accountant brought a small stool to help, clutching a small notebook filled with the history of the traditional breed.
Chen Wang was about to respond when Lin Xiaoman plucked the reddest strawberry from the patch. Holding the stem between her fingers, she held it out to him, her eyes fixed on the tip of his shoe. "Try it first. Is it sweet? We'll let the reporters get a taste later." As soon as her fingertips touched his palm, she recoiled as if burned. Her ears blushed slightly as she added, "This is an old variety of 'Cream Strawberry,' twice as sweet as regular strawberries."
At 10:00 AM, a news van bearing the banner "Cultural Tourism Report" pulled up at the courtyard's entrance. As the reporter entered the backyard, his gaze was captivated by the grape trellises—bunches of "Mi Guang" grapes dangled from the vines, their plump, purple-tinged grapes. The most remarkable thing was that several neatly arranged bunches, with the naturally arranged lines of the berries, faintly revealed the Chinese characters "Qingxi," a characteristic of the old vines. Chen Wang had specially marked them a few days prior, eager to showcase them today.
"The patterns on these grapes are so unique! Are they grown naturally?" The cameraman quickly picked up the camera and kept shooting at the bunch of grapes.
Lin Xiaoman came over with lemon tea, with a fresh slice of lemon on the rim of the cup. When she handed it over, she tightened her arm slightly and lowered her voice: "Try this. The lemon is an old variety of 'perfume lemon'. It has a fresh and sweet taste when brewed. No need to add extra sugar." After that, she took half a step back and stood beside Chen Wang, as if she had found a safe support.
The reporter took a sip and her eyes immediately lit up. "It's really sweet! Much more refreshing than the lemons you buy in the supermarket." She turned to Chen Wang and asked, "What made you want to return to the village to grow these traditional crops?"
Chen Wang's gaze drifted unconsciously to Lin Xiaoman, who happened to look up at him. Their eyes met, and she quickly lowered her head, twirling the hem of her dress with her fingertips. Chen Wang cleared his throat, his voice deeper than usual. "At first, I wanted to escape the fast pace of the city, but as I planted, I discovered the resilience of the old-fashioned crops and the honesty of the villagers. Gradually, I came to believe that there were things here worth protecting more than the city, like this land, and... people who could discuss planting with me."
The last few words were spoken softly, and Lin Xiaoman's ears turned even redder. She quickly turned to tidy up the vanilla soap on the table, but her fingertips accidentally knocked over the bamboo basket of tomatoes. Chen Wang reached out to steady it, and their hands touched the handle at the same time, then pulled back as if they had been electrocuted. The aunt helping nearby saw this and secretly nudged Grandma Zhang with her elbow, causing them both to laugh.
The interviews continued into the evening. As the reporters departed, the setting sun painted the sky an orange-pink hue. The villagers gradually returned home, leaving Chen Wang and Lin Xiaoman alone in the backyard, sitting on bamboo chairs, staring blankly at the vanilla soap hanging on the drying rack. The soap was a faint green, the color of mint and wormwood, and the breeze carried its fragrance far into the distance.
"Do you think our cultural and creative products can help more people know about old crop varieties?" Lin Xiaoman asked softly, pinching a piece of dried tomato leaf between her fingers. It was left over from making specimens during the day. Her fingertips repeatedly stroked the leaf veins, not daring to look at him.
Chen Wang pulled two sheets of paper from his pocket. They were the meteor forecasts he had printed out yesterday. He handed them over with deliberate delay. "Of course. Oh, by the way, there's the Perseid meteor shower tonight. I looked it up, and the view is best from the top of Old Orchard Mountain. Should we... go see it together?"
Lin Xiaoman's eyes lit up, then he quickly lowered his head and said softly, "Hmm," in a voice as quiet as a mosquito's buzz: "Okay, when I was a kid, I went to the top of the mountain with my grandfather to see a meteor. The meteor was particularly bright."
As night fell, the two of them carried bamboo baskets and headed up the mountain. Wangfu ran ahead, a small blanket in his mouth. The basket contained bread with strawberry jam, lemon tea, and a few star-shaped tomatoes he had picked that day—Chen Wang had left them there specifically, saying it was windy up there and needed something sweet to warm him up. The stone bench under the old pear tree was gleaming white in the moonlight. Lin Xiaoman spread out the blanket and just as she sat down, she exclaimed, quickly covering her mouth and lowering her voice: "Listen!"
The wind rustled through the old pear tree's branches, making a rustling sound that mingled with the chirping of insects in the distant rice paddies, like a gentle melody. Chen Wang leaned against the tree trunk and looked up. "Grandpa used to say that the old pear tree's dense branches and leaves change their tune when the wind blows through them, like a song."
The two sat side by side, slowly nibbling on strawberry jam bread. Lin Xiaoman spoke of her childhood, her voice soft, "Grandpa always said that old-fashioned crops recognize people; if you pay attention to them, they'll grow well. I used to think he was nagging, but now I understand that these crops embody the life of our village, and... the spirit of living a leisurely life."
"So what wish do you want to make tonight?" Chen Wang turned to look at her. The moonlight fell on her face, and her eyelashes cast a long shadow like a small fan.
Just as Lin Xiaoman was about to speak, Wangfu suddenly barked at the sky. They looked up and saw a bright meteor streaking across the night sky, trailing a long silver tail that looked like fragments of light scattered across the sky.
"Make a wish quickly!" Chen Wang subconsciously moved closer to her, and the back of his hand accidentally touched the back of her hand. He quickly retracted it, his heart beating fast.
Lin Xiaoman closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and her shoulders trembled slightly, as if she were meditating earnestly. Chen Wang looked at her pious profile and silently said to himself: I hope that more people will like the old varieties of crops, and I hope to spend more time with Xiaoman in the orchard in the future.
At the moment the meteor fell, the wind suddenly picked up, and a leaf from the old pear tree fluttered down, landing right in Lin Xiaoman's hair. Chen Wang hesitated for a moment, then reached out to help her pick it off. When his fingertips touched her earlobe, she suddenly opened her eyes, and their eyes met, then looked away at the same time.
Chen Wang took a deep breath and pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket. The cloth was dyed lavender from grape skins, and a tiny cloth tomato was sewn into it. He handed it over, his fingers pinching the edge of the bag, his voice a little tense. "I made this a few days ago when I had some free time. It contains a dried specimen of an old pear tree leaf... I thought, when we're documenting old varieties of crops, if we forget the characteristics of a particular one, we can look at this and remember what happened to the old pear tree."
Lin Xiaoman took the bag and gently traced the tomato pattern on it with her fingertips. Her eyes gradually reddened, but she didn't cry. She simply whispered, "I, I have something for you, too." She pulled out a small notebook from her canvas bag. The cover was pressed with dried strawberry leaves, and inside were several crop sketches she had drawn. "This is my collection of old variety notes. It records the watering and fertilizing times. If you're busy and forget, just look through it."
Chen Wang took the notebook, his fingertips touching hers. This time, he didn't shy away. They both froze for a moment, then slowly loosened their grip. Lin Xiaoman hugged the cloth bag tightly to her chest, looked up at the sky, and said softly, as if talking to herself, "From now on, every harvest season, let's come to the old pear tree and check on the crops, okay?"
"Okay." Chen Wang's voice was also soft, but firm.
At that moment, a few more shooting stars streaked across the night sky. The moonlight stretched their shadows very long, and they fell under the old pear tree, like a slowly unfolding painting. Wangfu ran over with a star-shaped tomato in his mouth and placed it at their feet, his tail wagging like a flower.
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