Chapter 108 Ordinary Days
Autumn is in full swing, and most of the sycamore leaves in the yard have turned yellow.
When the wind blew, the snow fell all over the ground with a rustling sound. Wen Xiaoxiao swept it up again and again, and the next day it was covered up again.
That afternoon, Wen Xiaogai ran back from outside, clutching a small transparent bag in her hand, puffing out her cheeks and blowing hard.
The thing was blown bigger and bigger, round and gleaming unnaturally in the sunlight.
Zhao Fei had just returned from the factory when he saw his son standing in the yard, struggling with the "balloon," his face flushed red.
"Wen Xiaogai!" Zhao Fei strode over and snatched the item from his hand.
"Dad! My balloon!" Wen Xiaogai jumped up and down, trying to grab it.
Zhao Fei held the rubber product, which had been blown so thin it was as thin as a cicada's wing, his expression changing repeatedly.
"Where did this come from?" Zhao Fei squatted down and looked at his son seriously.
Wen Xiaogai blinked: "I found it under the bed. It looked like a balloon, so..."
Under which bed?
"It's...it's in your and Mom's room, under the bedside table." Wen Xiaogai's voice lowered as he noticed his father's expression was off.
Zhao Fei took a deep breath, loosened the air from the object, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into his pocket.
He stood up and took Wen Xiaogai's hand: "Come on, Dad will take you to buy balloons."
The father and son went to the convenience store at the street corner.
Zhao Fei took out his money and bought a big bag of colorful balloons—round ones, long ones, animal-shaped ones, a whole bunch of them in all sorts of colors.
"Here you go." He handed the balloon to Wen Xiaogai. "If you want to blow up balloons in the future, blow up this one. That one... isn't a balloon, you can't blow it up, understand?"
Wen Xiaogai hugged the big bag of balloons, her eyes lighting up: "Remember! Dad, are all of these mine?"
"They're all yours." Zhao Fei patted his head. "Take your time blowing them. Dad will buy you more after you're done."
Back home, Wen Xiaogai sat in the yard blowing up balloons.
Blow one, tie it up, put it aside, then blow another one.
Before long, a dozen or so colorful balloons were piled up on the ground, swaying gently in the autumn breeze.
Wen Xiaoxiao came out of the house and was stunned when she saw the scene: "Where did all these balloons come from?"
"Dad bought it for me!" Wen Xiaogai said proudly. "Mom, look, did I play it well?"
Wen Xiaoxiao looked at the balloons, then at Zhao Fei, who was sitting to the side reading a newspaper.
Zhao Fei looked up from behind the newspaper and winked at her.
Wen Xiaoxiao understood. She walked over and gently kicked Zhao Fei's foot: "You..."
Zhao Fei put down his newspaper and said softly, "Children don't understand, we'll teach them slowly."
"Hmm." Wen Xiaoxiao sat down next to him, watching her son blowing up balloons earnestly in the yard, and suddenly smiled, "Time flies."
“That’s right.” Zhao Fei looked at his son. “In a few more years, he should be going to college.”
Wen Xiaoxiao leaned on his shoulder: "It's still early."
Good news has arrived from Yizhen Yibao.
The two sisters participated in the city's children's painting competition. One of them painted "My Mother," in which Wen Xiaoxiao is wearing clothes she designed herself, standing in a clothing store, with a warm smile.
Yizhen painted "Our Home," which includes a courtyard, a sycamore tree, and the whole family.
Both paintings won first prize in the primary school group.
Wen Xiaoxiao and Zhao Fei both attended the award ceremony.
Yizhen stood on the stage to receive her award, her small chest puffed out high.
After coming down, she took Wen Xiaoxiao's hand and said, "Mom, I want to be a fashion designer in the future and design lots and lots of beautiful clothes for you."
Wen Xiaoxiao felt a warmth in her heart and patted her daughter's head: "Okay, Mom is waiting to wear the clothes you designed."
Remembering something, she added, "Oh right, you have an Uncle Zheng—he used to be a fashion designer before he opened his factory. When there's a chance, Mom will introduce you to him and have him teach you."
As soon as he finished speaking, Zhao Fei, who was standing next to him, snorted and turned to walk towards the parking lot.
Wen Xiaoxiao then smiled, pursing her lips.
She caught up with the children, and as she got into the car, she deliberately said, "Some people, even after all these years, are still jealous."
Zhao Fei started the car and looked ahead: "Who's jealous? I was just... I was in a hurry to get home, I still have things to do at the factory."
Yi Zhen and Yi Bao chuckled to themselves in the back seat.
Wen Xiaogai didn't understand, so she clung to the seat and asked, "Dad, what is aged vinegar? Is it tasty?"
Yi Bao tapped him on the head: "Go eat your balloon!"
When she got home, Yizhen took out needles, thread and fabric from her small toolbox. They were leftovers from Wen Xiaoxiao's time as a tailor, and Yizhen treasured them very much.
She measured herself, cut and sewed, and after two days of hard work, she actually made a dress.
The light blue cotton dress had a few small white flowers embroidered on the neckline. Although the stitching was still a bit immature, the style was fresh and looked quite decent.
"Mom, look!" Yizhen put on her dress and twirled in front of Wen Xiaoxiao.
"It's so beautiful." Wen Xiaoxiao looked at it carefully. "The flowers are embroidered so well. Yizhen, your skills are even better than your mother's back then."
Yizhen was embarrassed by the praise and whispered, "When my older sister comes back from her vacation, I want to make her a nightgown. I've already thought of it; I'll use that soft fleece fabric so it'll be warm in winter."
“Your older sister will definitely like it,” Wen Xiaoxiao said.
Life went on peacefully like that.
Until this day, someone came to our door.
The man who arrived was a middle-aged cadre. He was carrying a folder and shook hands with Zhao Fei politely: "Director Zhao, I'm sorry to bother you. It's like this, the old city renovation plan has been finalized, and your old courtyard house is within the demolition area."
Zhao Fei was stunned: "Demolition?"
“Yes.” The official opened the folder and pointed to the planning map. “This whole area will be demolished and new residential areas will be built. The government has a compensation policy, calculated based on the area. Your yard, including the main house, the two side rooms, and the yard, will be compensated for this amount in total.”
He gave a number.
Wen Xiaoxiao listened from the side and did some mental calculations; it was no small sum of money.
"When will it be demolished?" Zhao Fei asked.
"Next spring. If you agree, we can sign the agreement in the next few days, and the compensation will be in place within a month."
Zhao Fei was silent for a moment, then nodded: "Okay, we'll think about it."
After seeing off the street officials, Zhao Fei sat on the sofa and remained silent for a long time.
Wen Xiaoxiao sat down next to him: "You can't bear to part with me?"
“A little.” Zhao Fei sighed. “That courtyard…we lived there for so many years. Yidi used to run around in it when she was little, and Yizhen and Yibao were born there too…”
Zhao Fei's memories are unforgettable, but Wen Xiaoxiao doesn't want to recall them.
The next day, Zhao Fei drove alone to the old town.
The courtyard house is still there, but several surrounding households have already moved out.
The word "demolish" was painted in large red paint on the wall, a shocking sight. The courtyard gate was ajar, and he pushed it open and went inside.
The yard was overgrown with weeds, and withered yellow grass sprouted from the cracks in the stones.
The door to the main room was locked, and several pieces of window glass were broken.
The door to the side room was half open, and the room was empty except for some old and broken items piled up in the corner.
Zhao Fei stood in the courtyard and lit a cigarette.
He recalled that many years ago, when Li Rui was still alive, the yard was always clean and tidy, with several pots of flowers in the summer.
Later, Wen Xiaoxiao arrived and moved into the side room.
The courtyard became even more lively.
Recalling the scene of Zhao Qingda abusing Wen Xiaoxiao, Zhao Fei still felt a tightness in his chest.
I think back to those arguments, partings, and reunions.
He only came to his senses when the cigarette burned out and burned his hand.
He stubbed out his cigarette, took one last look at the courtyard, and turned to leave.
He locked the door slowly, as if he were locking something inside.
When he got home, he signed the agreement.
The compensation arrived in my account quickly.
Wen Xiaoxiao said that no one could touch this money; she wanted to keep it for Yidi.
Life goes on.
However, Zhou Lanying's health is becoming increasingly worrying.
The old lady's leg pain hadn't gotten better, and recently she'd started having trouble walking long distances, having to rest twice just to walk from the yard to the house.
Wen Xiaoxiao wanted to take her to the hospital, but she waved her hand and said, "No, it's an old problem, it's pointless to go. I'm over seventy years old, my body parts are old, it's normal."
That's what she said, but Wen Xiaoxiao felt bad seeing her shuffling along with her crutches.
That afternoon, Zhou Lanying sat in the courtyard basking in the sun, with Wen Xiaoxiao keeping her company. The old lady suddenly said, "Xiaoxiao, my life has been worthwhile."
"Auntie, what are you saying?"
“Really.” Zhou Lanying squinted at the falling sycamore leaves in the yard. “Seeing you and Zhao Fei living a good life, seeing the children grow up, seeing Yidi go to university. You haven’t lived in vain.”
She paused, then said softly, "Sometimes... I just miss... my Rui'er..."
Wen Xiaoxiao grasped her hand: "Auntie..."
"It's alright." Zhou Lanying patted her hand. "When people get old, they tend to think about the past."
As the sun sets, it bathes the courtyard in gold.
Zhou Lanying sat in the rattan chair, and Wen Xiaoxiao sat on the small stool next to her. The two of them sat quietly like that.
A gust of wind blew, and a few more sycamore leaves fell.
Looking at the leaves, Wen Xiaoxiao recalled the scene many years ago when she lived in the courtyard house, and Zhou Lanying helped her take care of Yizhen and Yibao.
In the blink of an eye, so many years have passed.
“Auntie,” she said softly, “you must live well, watch Yizhen and Yibao go to university, watch Xiaogai grow up, and watch Yidi get married and have children.”
Zhou Lanying laughed, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deep and shallow: "Then I'll have to live like an old hag."
“Then live like an old hag.” Wen Xiaoxiao leaned against her lap. “We all need you.”
Zhou Lanying stroked Xiaoxiao's hair without saying a word.
In the courtyard, Wen Xiaogai was still blowing up balloons. After blowing one up, she tied it to a sycamore branch.
Now, more than a dozen colorful balloons are hanging on the tree, swaying gently in the wind, like a tree full of strange flowers.
Wen Xiaoxiao thought, "Let's leave it at that."
And so, peacefully, day after day, they lived on.
Until the children grow up, until they grow old.
Until the leaves of the sycamore tree turned yellow and then green again, and green and then yellow again.
Until time transforms all the past into the finest wine.
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