024｜(Twenty-three) Throw Pillow
After doing homework for so long in the afternoon, Xie Qingyan's elbows and back were sore and tired. Leaning back in the comfortable and soft chair, her thoughts drifted. As she thought, drowsiness gradually overwhelmed her, and her eyelashes sank heavily. Before long, she was drowsy.
The sound of even, long breaths could be heard.
Su Xingmao turned his face again, his eyelashes obscuring his gaze, hovering over her face.
He watched her quietly, raised his hand, and used his fingertips to smooth the long bangs that were almost touching his eyes. He straightened them one by one. He didn't know if it was an accidental movement or the sudden noise of horns outside the window that startled her.
"What's wrong?" Xie Qingyan suddenly opened his eyes. The cat, who had just woken up, first frowned, and in the clear blue light, it was full of vigilance.
Su Xingmao pursed his lips, his movements froze in mid-air, his hand paused, about to retract.
But she grabbed him.
Upon recognizing the constellation Mao, Xie Qingyan's tense body instantly relaxed.
She pulled his arm over. Su Xingmao was tall and muscular, but his arm was not strong. She hugged it like a long radish doll, using that arm as a pillow.
He shifted restlessly in the seat a few more times, finding a more comfortable position. His eyelids opened and closed like Venetian blinds, then slowly closed with a snap until his clear outline became a blurry silhouette in the light.
"I'm so sleepy, let me sleep for a while, wake me up when we get there..." Xie Qingyan mumbled, as if he had a piece of cotton in his mouth, his voice was like mucus, and his words were unclear.
Before he could finish speaking, he fell asleep again.
Su Xingmao knew that Xie Qingyan liked to hug a doll while sleeping.
Half of her large bed was occupied by herself, while the other half was piled high with all sorts of adorable plush toys. Not only the bed, but even the bay window was filled with them. When she was asleep, she would curl up into a ball, whether she needed to hug something or she slept in a shrimp-like position, all of which were signs of a lack of security.
She secretly hoped that one morning, Zhang Fulan would return from faraway France and give her a big surprise. She also hoped that the three of them would lie side by side with her in the same bed, watching the Sichuan version of "Tom and Jerry." The fake sophistication and the windmill's comical actions, coupled with the playful dialect, made the whole room burst into laughter.
It's somewhat laughable, but even now, Xie Qingyan still dreams about things from when she was very young. Around the age of four, her parents were still married.
On a midsummer night so far away that it's impossible to count, my father built a swing under the wisteria trellis.
After the meal, as soon as the dishes and chopsticks were cleared away, Xie Qingyan ran over and sat down in a flash, as if afraid someone would take them from her, her little hands tightly gripping the rough hemp rope.
She has been clingy and affectionate since she was little, and always needs both her parents to push her.
As the swing soared high, my heart felt as if it were about to fly away too, so tense I wanted to scream. The cool breeze rushed into my heart, bringing unparalleled joy.
My body swayed, light and airy, transforming into a soft cloud, ready to fly with the wind into the distant rosy clouds, into the clear yellow halo of the moon, and to collide with the twinkling stars.
It's as if you could raise your hand and hold a handful of starlight, only for it to leak out through your fingers and overflow.
It sparkled in my eyes. I shouted to my parents, "Mom and Dad, I caught a star!"
Children speak without restraint, and we shook our heads and laughed as we listened. Mother set up a bamboo chair, which swayed back and forth and creaked as soon as she sat down. She slowly peeled the large pomegranate that the neighbor had given her, pinching the thick, yellow-red skin with her fingertips and using a gleaming knife to cut a square opening at the top.
Gently break it open, and the pomegranate seeds, red as jade, roll one after another into the enamel bowl, crystal clear and bright red.
Her father chewed a mouthful and said it was so sweet. He held a handful of the food in his hands and tried to feed it to Xie Qingyan, but she turned her head away and refused to eat it. No matter how sweet it was, she found it hard to spit out the seeds.
At that time, Su Xingmao had not yet moved in. Next door lived an elderly couple. The old lady next door was leaning on a wooden cane, and she and the old man were supporting each other as they were walking back from the mountainside after their meal.
My father brought a small basket from inside the house, filled with the green plums he had picked in the countryside the day before. In return, he gave most of them to the two elderly people.
Xie Qingyan curiously stretched his neck, clamoring to pick one to eat. He bit down and "crunch" with a crisp sound. The sour juice immediately filled his mouth, sour and a little bitter. He couldn't taste a trace of sweetness. His face scrunched up like a bitter gourd, and he spat a few times, saying that it was not sweet and not tasty.
Xie Jinyu covered her mouth and smiled, saying that it would be sweet if it were made into candied plums.
Zhang Fulan picked up the conversation and recounted how, as a child, she secretly made wine with green plums, got drunk, and slept soundly in the yard all night, her cheeks still burning the next day.
“It was as red as these pomegranate seeds,” he said, pointing to the white porcelain bowl and making things up. “So I lied and said I had a fever, and skipped school for a day without any qualms.”
Xie Jinyu was so angry that she lightly punched him and scolded, "With a father like you, you're going to corrupt Yan Yan again."
As the weather grew cooler and the night deepened, she yawned, shivering, and her mother pulled her inside to sleep.
The wind was still howling, and dark clouds obscured the moon, threatening rain. Father turned off the dim yellow lights in the yard one by one, and a few of the bright stars in the sky went out as well.
She can't be without someone when she's washing up or going to sleep. With her big, blinking eyes, she wants to be the brightest light bulb in the world, blocking out their world and sleeping between her parents.
Back then, her parents' hearts and eyes were completely devoted to her.
Xie Jinyu would hold her in his arms, gently stroking her head and patting her back. Her father would hum an unknown French nursery rhyme, gentle and melodious, as warm as a summer breeze, softly coaxing her, "My sweet baby, fall asleep quickly."
So happy.
As we grow up, happiness becomes like glass candy. Swallowing it whole will get it stuck in your throat and make you suffocate. If you chew it up before eating it, the sharp little glass pieces will draw blood from your throat.
"Yanyan has grown up." "You're not a little kid anymore." "Be obedient." "Be sensible."
When did she lose the right to be willful, even having to carefully choose her words and consider every detail when sending messages to her parents?
He just wanted more attention or care.
As the car entered the Second Ring Road, it was summer vacation, and the sidewalks were packed with people, making it even noisier with horns blaring. Xie Qingyan was not sleeping soundly; her eyes darted around under her eyelids like rolling glass beads.
Su Xingmao did not pull his hand away, letting Xie Qingyan hold him.
Originating from her warmth, through their skin touching, the dense heat seeped into his veins, circulating back to him little by little, making his heart burn with passion.
His gaze remained calm as he looked at her, his eyes seemingly softened by her warmth, as gentle as her body temperature.
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