After a few fine and dense spring rains, some fluffy green began to struggle to show through the gray background of the old city's shantytowns.
The palm-sized courtyard in front of Sun Guixiang's cottage has been tidied up and has changed its appearance.
The old plum tree in the corner of the yard had shed its last few lonely petals, but its branches seemed even more vigorous. The newly turned soil beneath the tree was moist and dark, with several shallow furrows neatly carved into it.
The most eye-catching thing is the row of coarse pottery basins, chipped clay pots, and even a few clean old tin biscuit boxes arranged along the wall, in which plump, green succulents live quietly.
Some are round like small fists, some are flat like lotus seats, and there are also some plants with plump stems and leaves hanging down. Their postures are different, but they are all neatly arranged.
The edge of the basin was polished to a shine, and even the dust on each leaf looked as if it had been gently brushed away with a very fine brush.
That is the children’s “territory”.
Sun Guixiang stood at the door of the house, holding a coarse porcelain bowl in her hand, which was filled with freshly washed, juicy young spinach.
She didn't look at the vegetables. Her cloudy eyes only looked across the narrow yard and fell on the figure sitting on the small bamboo stool under the shadow of the old plum tree.
The spring sunshine filters through the sparse branches that have just sprouted tender leaves, and falls down like gold foil.
Ye Qingliu was sitting in that piece of broken gold.
He was wearing a brand new white linen shirt, the material crisp and with a soft, almost pearly sheen in the light.
This set of clothes cost all the hard-earned money that Sun Guixiang had saved by working day and night, peeling edamame for someone in a corner of the vegetable market for three whole months.
But now, seeing the child wearing it, sitting there quietly, with an incredibly thick book spread out on his knees, Sun Guixiang felt that it was worth it. Absolutely worth it.
The white clothes made his exposed neck and wrists look even colder and whiter, like fine porcelain, yet strangely coated with a layer of warmth by the sunlight.
Silver-rimmed glasses rested on his straight nose, and his gray-blue eyes behind the lenses were lowered, his gaze glued to the densely packed symbols on the pages of the book, so focused that it seemed as if the whole world only contained him and the book.
Only when slender fingers occasionally turned the pages of the book did a slight sound come out.
The wind was light, carrying the moist scent of soil and new leaf buds, ruffling a few strands of soft, jet-black hair in front of his forehead.
"Little friend," she spoke, her voice hoarse like that of an elderly person, yet soft as if it had been bathed in the spring sunshine.
"Are you reading? Are you tired? Let me pour you a glass of water."
Ye Qingliu heard the voice, his fingertips stopped on the page, and he slowly raised his eyes.
His gray-blue eyes withdrew from the profound words and turned to Sun Guixiang at the door.
"Not tired." He spoke, his voice as clear as the dripping ice from the eaves. His tone was flat, but strangely, he didn't have the coldness that kept people at a distance.
Sun Guixiang's smile grew even wider as she walked over with a bowl of spinach in her hand. "I'm glad you're not tired. I'm glad you're not tired. The sun is perfect, it'll keep you warm. Just be careful not to hurt your eyes."
She kept muttering, with concern evident in her cloudy eyes.
The child's eyes swept across the spinach in her bowl with water droplets on it. She didn't say anything, just said "hmm" softly, and her gaze fell back on the page of the book.
Sun Guixiang felt satisfied because her child agreed to her request.
She stopped disturbing him and went into the house, leaving the yard filled with silent sunshine and the boy immersed in the sea of books.
The bamboo fence and trellis in the corner of the yard, which was originally crooked and about to fall apart, became straight and neat at some point.
Several old bamboo poles that were originally abandoned at the base of the wall were reused, wedged deeply into the soil, and cleverly tied together with the original frame to form a new skeleton.
The angles are tricky yet stable, with an almost rigid geometric beauty.
Sun Guixiang woke up from her nap, rubbed her still sore eyes, walked to the door, and saw the brand new fence at a glance.
She was stunned for a moment, then her cloudy eyes lit up with surprise.
"Oh!" She cried out softly, walked quickly to the fence, and carefully touched the bamboo pole that had been tied again with even the knot tied meticulously with her skinny hand.
"This...was this done by a kid?"
She turned her head and looked towards the old plum tree.
The child was still sitting on the small bamboo stool, the book still on his knees, but at this moment he tilted his head slightly, and his gray-blue eyes were looking at her quietly through the lenses, as if silently asking: Is this okay?
"Good! Very good!" Sun Guixiang smiled so hard that her teeth were showing and nodded repeatedly. The wrinkles on her face were squeezed into deep grooves.
"This trellis is so sturdy! It's a hundred times stronger than the one I built! Tomorrow, grandma will go buy some loofah vines and lentil seedlings, climb them up, and provide shade for the children in the summer!"
The more she spoke, the happier she became, as if she could already see the green vines climbing all over the new racks, blooming small flowers and bearing fruit.
The child didn't say anything, but just looked at her happy expression. The corners of his straight lips seemed to move upwards very slightly, so fast that it seemed like an illusion.
Then, he lowered his eyelashes again and his gaze fell back on the page, as if the focused gaze and the subtle arc just now were just Sun Guixiang's imagination.
The sun was shining warmly, and the only sound in the courtyard was the rustling of pages turning, and Sun Guixiang's satisfied sighs as she walked around the new fence, looking left and right.
The fat lady from the grocery store at the entrance of the alley came to visit, carrying half a basket of freshly picked, juicy toon shoots.
Her loud voice could be heard from far away in the courtyard: "Sister Sun! Is Sister Sun home? I'll bring you some fresh food to try!"
Sun Guixiang was sitting on a small stool at the door, sewing a loose button on Ye Qingliu's shirt cuff in the daylight.
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