Chapter 20: A Lifelong Promise Under the Old Pear Tree
# Chapter 20: A Lifelong Promise Under the Old Pear Tree
In the first month after the supply chain crisis was resolved, life in Qingxi Village was like well-cooked strawberry jam, a sweet, steady delight. "Star-patterned" tomatoes from Gongxiang Field hung abundantly on the branches, and the workshop's newly arrived reusable cardboard boxes piled high. Printed with a simple drawing of an old pear tree—designed by Aunt Wang's daughter, who described it as "very familiar"—Chen Wang sat at an old wooden table in the workshop, tallying orders in an Excel spreadsheet. As the word "Shipped" appeared on the screen, he couldn't hide the smile on his face.
Every morning, Chen Wang and Lin Xiaoman would patrol their shared fields together. Carrying a small satchel containing a tape measure and a notebook, Chen Wang squatted beside the tomato vines, noting down data: "Today's fruit diameter has increased by an average of 0.3 centimeters, and the sweetness should increase by another 0.5 degrees." Lin Xiaoman, holding a magnifying glass, carefully inspected the undersides of the leaves for aphids. Occasionally, her fingertips brushed against the back of his hand, and both of them would gently part their fingers as if struck by electricity. Then, pretending to inspect the crops, their ears would quietly turn red.
During one inspection, a pear leaf got stuck to the end of Lin Xiaoman's hair. Chen Wang reached out to help her pick it off. As his fingertips touched her hair, the grapevine behind them swayed, and a bunch of ripe "honey light" grapes fell, landing squarely in the bamboo basket between them. Lin Xiaoman bent down to pick it up, and when she looked up, she met Chen Wang's gaze. They both smiled, and though they didn't say anything, they understood each other's feelings better than any words could.
That evening, the setting sun cast a long shadow across the old pear tree. Chen Wang was helping Lin Xiaoman sort through his grandfather's planting notes. As his fingertips turned a yellowed page, an old photo fell out. A young Grandpa Lin stood beneath the old pear tree, holding a bamboo basket filled with freshly picked pears. Grandma Lin nestled beside him, her eyes curved in a smile, a small pear petal tucked into her hair.
"This is a photo of my grandparents when they were young," Lin Xiaoman leaned over, her fingertips gently brushing the edge of the photo, her voice soft, "Grandpa said they fell in love under this old pear tree. Back then, his family was poor and didn't have many valuables, so he picked a basket of pears he had grown and said to Grandma, 'I'll grow pears and support you in the future,' and Grandma agreed."
Chen Wang's heartbeat slowed, and he looked up at the old pear tree outside the window. The setting sun filtered through the branches, casting tiny specks of light on the ground. The wind rustled the leaves, as if whispering something. He remembered Lin Xiaoman squatting on the edge of the field, sifting leaf mold as they battled root rot; he remembered her firmly defending herself, clutching the test report during the rumor storm; he remembered her searching through her grandfather's notes for cooperation resources when the supply chain was disrupted. All the hardships they had endured together, all the sweetness they had tasted together, now coalesced into a single thought: he wanted to spend his whole life with this girl, guarding this land and these old varieties.
"Xiaoman," Chen Wang put down his notes, his voice deeper than usual, but with unprecedented seriousness, "Let's go for a walk under the old pear tree."
The two walked side by side to the old pear tree. Wangfu followed behind, holding a cloth towel in his mouth. Inside the cloth was a freshly baked rice cake—Grandma Zhang had given them that afternoon, saying, "It's good to eat when you're hungry." Chen Wang leaned against the rough trunk, watching Lin Xiaoman look up at the small green pears on the branches. The sunset dyed the tips of her hair a faint gold, and her thoughts became clearer and clearer.
He pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket and opened it to reveal a ring—not some precious jewel, but carved from an old pear tree branch, polished to a smooth, rounded shape. Two small characters were engraved on the inside: "Qingxi." He had spent three nights crafting it, busy in the workshop during the day and carving under the lamp at night. He had pricked his finger several times with the splinters, but it didn't hurt at all.
"Xiao Man," Chen Wang's voice was slightly nervous but firm. "From the first time we met in the orchard and you taught me how to tell the ripeness of tomatoes, I've felt at ease with you. Later, we dealt with root rot together, clarified rumors together, and found supply chains together. Every time it was difficult, you were by my side; every time it was sweet, you shared it with me."
He paused, then handed the ring to Lin Xiaoman, his fingertips trembling slightly. "I'm not as good at sweet talk as Grandpa, and I don't have anything particularly valuable. But I want to tell you, from now on, I will treat you with all my heart, just like I would plant an old crop, guarding this land and you with all my heart. Will you... marry me? This isn't a spur-of-the-moment agreement, it's a promise to spend my life with you."
Lin Xiaoman turned around suddenly, her eyes instantly filled with tears, but not sadness, but happiness that was about to overflow. She was stunned for a few seconds, then nodded vigorously, her voice a little choked, but extremely clear: "I do! Chen Wang, I do!"
She reached out to take the ring, her fingertips brushing against Chen Wang's. Neither of them flinched, their hands still clasping. The wind suddenly picked up, and a few leaves from the old pear tree fell, landing squarely on their shoulders, like a special blessing from the tree. Wangfu also came over, placing the rice cake in his mouth at their feet, his tail wagging like a blooming flower.
"Oh, we've finally been waiting for this day!" Grandma Zhang's voice suddenly rang out. She led a dozen villagers over, holding a freshly steamed wedding cake with a small pear leaf pattern printed on it. "I knew something was wrong with you two, so I asked the kitchen to steam the wedding cake a long time ago!"
Uncle Li held up a wine jug and said with a smile, "We have to celebrate tonight! For Xiaowang and Xiaoman, and for the good future of our Qingxi Village!" The villagers also joined in the fun. Some said, "From now on, our old variety will be 'wedding candy'", and some said, "We should plant more pears next year to share in the old couple's happiness."
Chen Wang slipped the ring onto Lin Xiaoman's ring finger; it was a perfect size. Lin Xiaoman raised her hand, the setting sun shone on the wooden ring, casting a gentle glow. Chen Wang pulled out his phone and took a picture of their clasped hands, the old pear tree behind them, and the gathered villagers. He opened his "Orchard Diary" and slowly typed a line: "With the old pear tree as matchmaker and the villagers as witnesses, for the rest of our lives, we will grow our traditional varieties together and live a good life together—sharing the sweet and the bitter."
As night fell, the villagers hung lanterns beneath the old pear tree, their warm yellow light illuminating everyone's smiling faces. Everyone gathered around, eating wedding cakes and drinking pear paste water, discussing next year's planting plans. Uncle Li said he wanted to expand his tomato planting by two acres, Aunt Wang said she would teach everyone how to make pear paste candy, and Lin Xiaoman said she would compile her grandfather's notes into a book for those who would like to grow the old varieties in the future.
Lin Xiaoman leaned on Chen Wang's shoulder and said softly, "Grandpa would definitely be very happy if he were still alive."
"He will," Chen Wang held her hand tightly and looked at the old pear tree. "Look at this tree. It's growing so vigorously. It's like it's watching over us for Grandpa, and seeing our good days."
The wind rustled through the old pear tree, its leaves rustling as if in response. The old-variety crops in the shared fields swayed gently in the night. The sweetness of tomatoes, the fragrance of grapes, and the freshness of pears blended together to create the sweetest night in Qingxi Village.
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