65 We should not be the alternative
The waning moon hung like a hook in the indigo sky, and the whole city was filled with silence. When Liu Yuwei arrived at the funeral home, the door was already full of cars. Stepping through the gate, the morning mist spread over the dark green pines and cypresses, weaving a damp web between the branches, and his body shuddered involuntarily. The further he walked in, the colder it became. Liu Yuwei tightened the collar of his coat and suddenly remembered what he learned in college geography class - for every 100 meters increase in altitude, the temperature drops by 0.6℃. Perhaps sadness is like this, the deeper it goes, the more biting it becomes. After passing the octagonal pavilion, he came to a wide field. The rows of houses formed a semicircle, and above each door was an electronic screen, coldly scrolling the information of the deceased. Liu Yuwei did not need to look for Jiang Fan's name, because among the solemn black, white and gray colors, the little girl in the shiny blue princess dress was too conspicuous, like the North Star that suddenly appeared in the night. She wore a down jacket over her skirt, and the fluff around the brim of her hat fluttered in the wind like the wings of a fledgling. Liu Yuwei slowly stepped forward to greet Jiang Fan's family. The man who had been so high-spirited the last time they met was now frosted with snow, looking ten years older. He held his daughter's hand and silently bowed to each mourner. An elderly woman in a black dress and black shirt stood nearby, her white hair neatly tied back. But her eyes, like Jiang Fan's, were like hollowed-out glass. Had Jiang Fan lived to see the ripe old age of sixty, she would probably have been this gentle and elegant. Jiang Fan had mentioned the death of her father from illness when she was in high school, but her mother often said, "Life is like tea; no matter how bitter, you can still savor its sweetness." Having lost her husband in middle age and her son in old age, this cup of tea was likely bitter as hell. As daylight gradually brightened, the farewell ceremony proceeded in an orderly manner. Walking around the coffin, Liu Yuwei saw Jiang Fan lying quietly in the transparent cabinet, as if he was just lost in a deep dream, and would soon stretch out and greet the sun like everyone else. At some point, soft sobs began to be heard in the mourning hall, and a sad and oppressive atmosphere gradually engulfed everyone. According to the custom in Jiang Fan's hometown, the last step before cremation is "the filial son smashing the basin." This basin represents the deceased's meal bowl. When it is smashed, she will be free from all worries in this world and can leave peacefully. The little girl in a princess dress was pushed to the front of the coffin by the adults in a daze. She held the red clay basin and raised it high in front of everyone's gaze. After hesitating for a moment, she slowly put it down. "Can we go outside to smash it?" She looked up at the man next to her, "It's too loud..."
The waning moon hung like a hook in the indigo sky, and the whole city was filled with loneliness.
When Liu Yuwei arrived at the funeral home, the entrance was already packed with cars. Stepping through the gate, the morning mist drifted over the dark green pines and cypresses, weaving a damp web between the branches. She shuddered involuntarily. The further inside, the colder it got.
Liu Yuwei straightened the collar of his coat, suddenly remembering what he'd learned in college geography class: for every 100 meters of altitude increase, the temperature dropped by 0.6°C. Perhaps sadness is like this: the deeper it goes, the more piercing it becomes.
Passing through the octagonal pavilion, we arrived at a spacious area. Rows of houses formed a semicircle, and above each door hung an electronic screen, coldly scrolling through the messages of the deceased.
Liu Yuwei didn't need to search for Jiang Fan's name. Amidst the solemn black, white, and gray, the little girl in her sparkling blue princess dress stood out like the North Star suddenly appearing in the night. She wore a down jacket over her dress, and the fluff around her hat's brim fluttered in the wind, like the fledgling's fledgling wings.
Liu Yuwei walked slowly forward and greeted Jiang Fan's family.
The man who had been full of vigor and vitality when we last met was now covered in frost and looked ten years older. He held his daughter's hand and bowed silently to each mourner.
An elderly woman in a black dress stood nearby, her white hair neatly tied behind her head. But her eyes, identical to Jiang Fan's, looked like hollowed-out glass. If Jiang Fan could live to the ripe old age of sixty, he would probably be this gentle and elegant.
Jiang Fan once mentioned that her father died of illness when she was in high school, but her mother often said, "Life is like tea, no matter how bitter it is, you can still taste the sweetness."
She lost her husband in middle age and her son in old age. Now this cup of tea is probably too bitter to drink.
As the sky gradually brightened, the farewell ceremony proceeded in an orderly manner.
After walking around the coffin, Liu Yuwei saw Jiang Fan lying quietly in the transparent cabinet, as if he was just in a deep dream. He would be able to stretch out and greet the sun like everyone else soon.
At some point, soft sobbing began to be heard in the mourning hall, and an atmosphere of sadness and oppression gradually engulfed everyone.
According to the custom in Jiang Fan's hometown, the last step before cremation is for the filial son to smash the basin. The basin represents the deceased's meal bowl, and by smashing it, she can leave the world without worries and feel at ease.
The little girl in a princess dress was pushed in front of the coffin by the adults in a daze. She held a red clay basin, raised it high in front of everyone's gaze, hesitated for a moment, and then slowly put it down.
"Can we go outside and fight?" She looked up at the man beside her. "It's too loud. It will wake up Mom!"
The man squatted down and touched his daughter's head. Liu Yuwei saw his fingers trembling.
"Mom is very tired and is sleeping soundly. It's okay. Do you remember what she said to you when you broke the plate last time?"
The girl tilted her head and thought for a moment, "Is everything alright?"
"Yes..." the man's eyes were red, and his voice suddenly choked. "Break this basin, and Mom will bless you with peace and safety from now on."
The moment the clay basin fell to the ground, the crisp sound of it breaking echoed in the mourning hall, and the funeral guests shouted "open the coffin".
The old woman, who had been standing like a statue, suddenly came to life. She rushed towards the coffin with a speed unbelievable for someone nearly seventy years old, her withered fingers scratching the glass with a harsh sound.
"Let me see her again!"
She leaned heavily on the coffin, a few strands of her white hair falling from her tightly-knit bun. Her palms pressed against the glass, as if caressing the delicate skin of a newborn.
This scene pierced everyone's hearts, and the suppressed cries broke out like a flood.
"Sail..."
The old lady's voice suddenly dropped to a heartbreaking whisper. "You're just like your father...a liar..."
She pressed her forehead against the coffin lid and sobbed like a child.
"You promised to take care of me until the end of my life... You and your daughter... why don't you keep your word..."
When relatives and friends came forward to support her, her once neat dress was already covered in dust and wrinkled beyond recognition. She suddenly became quiet and allowed others to help her back to the side, but her eyes were still fixed on the coffin, as if she wanted to leave a final mark on her daughter with her gaze.
The sound of "opening the coffin" sounded again, but it seemed to come from another world.
The funeral returned to order, and only the broken tiles on the ground reminded people of the most primitive and naked pain that had just erupted.
…
Coming out of the funeral home, Liu Yuwei stood on the steps. The April sunshine flowed on her shoulders like warm water, but it could not warm the chill that penetrated her bones.
The willow trees on both sides of the road have grown yellow-green branches, swaying in the wind like green gauze. Spring has come, but some people have lost their vitality.
Liu Yuwei had been feeling restless for the past few days, and the funeral had drained away her already limited energy. She walked to the parking lot with her college classmates, looking listless.
The footsteps on the gravel road were chaotic, and finally someone broke the silence.
"I heard Jiang Fan is about to be promoted to partner, that's why he works so hard!"
"There are always people to take over the job, but the child only has one biological mother."
“So, only when you lose something do you know what is most important.”
Liu Yuwei looked up and squinted at the sun.
When I was a child, I memorized the ancient poem "Tomorrow and tomorrow, how many tomorrows there are," and I only understood it as a warning not to waste time. Now, it seems that another line from the poem is even more relevant: In the morning, I watch the water flow east, and at dusk, I watch the sun set west. How many tomorrows can there be in a hundred years?
Yes, how many tomorrows can we have in life?
Life is like the catkins in April, seemingly flying lightly, but in fact it is fleeting.
Those people we thought we would wait for forever may never be seen again on an ordinary morning.
Those agreed "next time" and promised "some other day" may forever be frozen as unfinished regrets.
Seeing her stop, the female classmate next to her also looked at the cloudless blue sky and sighed softly.
“What a nice day!”
"Yu Wei, tell me, if those who died in an accident tomorrow knew in advance, what would they do now?"
Liu Yuwei turned her head away. She didn’t know what others would think, but if possible, she hoped to say goodbye to the person she loved and say what she hadn’t said.
In the taxi on the way back to the city, she tried to call Jin Lang again, but the call was still not connected.
Before I could hang up, the receiver beeped, indicating an incoming call.
…
It was lunchtime, and the unassuming Wenzhou Seafood Noodle House, just off the South Third Ring Road, was already filling up with diners. The freshly fried toppings and the rich, fragrant broth awakened Liu Yuwei's stomach. Finally, after days, she felt a hint of hunger.
[Where have you been? I told the boss to come down later, otherwise it will be clogged by the time you get here!]
Liu Yuwei put down his phone, held his chin with both hands, and his fingertips unconsciously traced the texture of the table, as if he could touch the past of the tree - perhaps it was once lush and green, and watched the sunrise on some unknown mountain, but was later made into furniture.
Ren Yiming lifted the plastic door curtain against the light and saw Liu Yuwei sitting by the window in the back row at a glance.
She lowered her head, her face calm, yet an indescribable sadness emanated from her. Her black sweater made her look even thinner, like a shadow that could melt in the sunlight at any moment.
Just now on the phone, she said she was in a bad mood and had no appetite. Ren Yiming replied that it was even more important to eat well. When the stomach is satisfied, all the internal organs will feel comfortable.
Liu Yuwei hadn't seen Ren Yiming in a while. Over a month ago, he had gone to Europe to oversee the Ling'an investment and factory construction. At the time, Ren Yiming had called to ask if she would accompany the delegation as a consulting lawyer. Liu Yuwei said that if the client made such a request, she would have to go. Ren Yiming understood the implication and didn't force it. Due to the time difference and their busy schedules, the two of them only occasionally chatted.
"Is my noodles cooked yet? I've been eating white people's food for over a month and I'm craving this!"
Ren Yiming's voice was full of travel-worn energy.
Liu Yuwei looked up at the sound of the voice, and a delicate white paper box was pushed in front of him. He glanced at the gilded logo. It was the internet-famous cake shop that still had a long line even after opening for a year. No wonder he was so late. The corners of his mouth finally curved slightly.
"Thanks!"
"When you're in a bad mood, eat something sweet to stimulate the secretion of dopamine in your brain!"
Ren Yiming pulled out a chair and sat down, the wooden chair creaking slightly. He could see her lifeless smile. Although he hadn't seen her in that state for a long time, he quickly recalled her expression when she was heartbroken in her early years.
Liu Yuwei scooped a piece of cake and put it in her mouth. The cream was smooth, but she frowned slightly. It was obviously her favorite chestnut flavor, but at this moment she couldn't taste any sweetness.
Just as I was about to speak, my cell phone rang and an unfamiliar number appeared on the screen.
"Hello, who is this?"
"Xiaoyu, it's me!"
This voice, passing through the radio waves, is so real that it almost seems unreal.
Liu Yuwei's fingers trembled, and the silver fork fell to the ground. She bent down to pick it up, holding the phone. As she stood up, she looked out the window. The midday sun was particularly glaring, and a huge, swaying white circle of light exploded before her eyes.
After a few seconds of silence, the other party, unable to wait for a reply, spoke again.
"Xiao Yu, are you listening? I'm Jin Lang."
"I know. Where...are you?"
The sound was very light and vague.
"I just landed in Beijing North and plan to go back home first."
"Did you change your phone number?"
"No, this is Zhang Yi's phone number. I'll come find you later, okay?"
"OK."
"That's it for now, I'll call you this afternoon!"
After hanging up the phone, Liu Yuwei picked up another large piece of cake with chopsticks and sipped it carefully. The sweetness of chestnut velvet bloomed on the tip of his tongue, and his taste buds seemed to wake up.
She looked up again and smiled brightly at Ren Yiming, "How sweet!"
Ren Yiming looked at her eyes that suddenly lit up, and was surprised at what magic this phone call of less than a minute had that could make a withered flower bloom again in an instant.
He subconsciously asked, "Who is it?"
"Jin Lang."
The two words, coated in cream, flowed out from her lips stickily, with obvious joy.
This answer left Ren Yiming speechless, as if Pandora's box had been opened, and he didn't know how to start for a moment.
While hesitating, Liu Yuwei had already eaten the whole cake, and at the same time, the hot seafood noodles were brought to the table by the waiter.
"There's still one bowl left, can you finish it?"
"No, thank you, one bowl is enough!"
Liu Yuwei answered politely, then turned to Ren Yiming and said with a smile, "You gave me a cake, and I'll treat you to noodles!"
"What about you?"
"I have something to do, so I have to leave first. Take your time eating!"
As she spoke, Liu Yuwei pushed the stool away and picked up the coat and bag beside her.
"Let's make an appointment another time!"
She looked relaxed, completely different from Liu Yuwei who had just been sitting there in a daze.
Liu Yuwei turned around and took only two steps before she was forced to stop. Someone grabbed her wrist with all their might. She turned to meet Ren Yiming's gloomy face.
"You're going to look for him, aren't you?"
His voice was very low, like a rumbling thunder.
"yes."
Liu Yuwei answered directly and frankly without hiding anything.
The hand that was pulling her suddenly slipped away, and the finger marks on the wrist slowly faded into a red mark.
She saw the emotions in Ren Yiming's eyes: incredible shock, bottomless sadness, and even a bit of burning anger.
"Aren't you hungry? Go eat some noodles!"
Liu Yuwei stood on tiptoe and patted his shoulder as if to comfort a willful child. The action was both intimate and distant.
Then he left a meaningful message to Ren Yiming.
"Life is too short for us to be options!"
A bowl of seafood noodles for everyone
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