Chapter 400
Bathing Dabai was a daunting task. He was so large and his fur so thick. In the yard, a little girl and a guard kept pouring water on him. After a long while, Dabai shook his head and body, splashing water all over him. Only the surface of his fur was wet, while the fur underneath remained dry. The two people bathing him were completely soaked.
Wang Jiazhi held the kitten and watched as she bathed Dabai. The kitten was very happy. The little girl and the guard also bent their arms in front of their faces and laughed heartily. Dabai splashed water all over himself, grinning and sticking out his big tongue, looking innocent.
He came back and saw this scene, and looked at her with a smile that was somewhat meaningful.
Wang Jiazhi probably understood why he had to wet her hair for a long time before washing it completely. Wang Jiazhi's hair was very thick, and it was very troublesome to wash it after it was shortened and permed before. Now that it was long and straight and reached her waist, it was even more difficult to wash.
Old Yi looked at his daughter again. She now had the same hairstyle as her. The kitten's hair was as good as her mother's.
Wang Jiazhi recalled the helpless look in the barber's eyes every time her mother took her to get a haircut when she was a child.
"Cutting your daughter's hair is twice as much as cutting someone else's."
But they are very proud every time they go to the barber shop, because their hair is so thick and heavy.
"It's a family heirloom. My grandmother, my mother, I, and she all have such beautiful hair," she told him.
Dabai finally finished washing, and then let it dry in the sun. After it was dry, she combed its fur. Every time she combed, a large mess was left. Snow fell in the yard in July. After the little girl finished combing its fur, she also became white and fluffy. Looking at Dabai again, he was still a big and fluffy cat.
They also gave the kitten a bath. His daughter's hair had grown longer and now had the same hairstyle as hers. He washed his daughter's hair and said with a smile, "Your hair is so nice, honey. It's just like your mother's."
Lao Yi thought Wang Jiazhi was particularly good, even when they first met in Hong Kong. Of course, at that time, our feelings and understanding of her weren't that deep; we just superficially thought her appearance and temperament were wonderful, and that she had the air of a woman from the Book of Songs, from the inside out.
He suddenly remembered the poem "The Great Beauty": The great beauty is tall, her hands are as soft as catkins, her skin is as white as cream, she has a charming smile and beautiful eyes.
Wang Jiazhi was indeed a good match for this poem at that time. She was healthy and young. Although her life was not very good, she still had infinite longing and hope for the future.
Seeing Ouyang in the carriage, he recalled Sima Yan's selection of a wife for his son, Emperor Hui of Jin. He favored the daughter of the Wei family, saying she was virtuous, beautiful, tall, and fair-skinned. But Empress Yang insisted on marrying the ugly, wicked, and barren Jia Nanfeng. As a young man, he felt incredibly fortunate that such a tall, fair, beautiful, and virtuous girl didn't marry that fool. Otherwise, he would have been incredibly heartless.
At that time, he was thinking, why would such a good person follow such a fat fool.
When he left Hong Kong, he could not have imagined that in his eyes, the woman in the Book of Songs and the person who defiled her were even more disgusting than that fat fool.
When they met again in Shanghai, he was also shocked. She had changed so much. She was so thin that it looked like she was just bones. He had touched her healthy, round arms in Hong Kong, but after three years, they had become much thinner.
His expression was no longer as innocent as before. There was no light in his eyes, only melancholy and sorrow.
He walked to the door of her room. She was wearing lake green clothes. Under the night light, she looked like someone from the Book of Songs: There are Fusu trees on the mountain, and lotus flowers in the marshes.
The tragedy of Fusu in ancient books made him feel that this poem was also tragic, but this tragedy was poignant and beautiful.
Wang Jiazhi was like a white lotus quietly blossoming on a deep blue lake in the night. Above the deep blue lotus pond was a deep blue night sky, and in that sky a mournful white moon. The moonlight shone on the lotus and the lake, creating shimmering waves. That shimmering light was the silvery white light reflected by the night lamp on her reflection in the mirror. The lotus pond was her little house.
He stood at the door, like a bystander, admiring the sad yet beautiful lotus flower in the quiet night waves in the world outside the lotus pond.
Soon after, he finally possessed the lotus flower as he had wished. He had to admit that many of the world's most beautiful things were morbid. She was even more mysterious and beautiful than she had been three years ago. Her lean, supple body, her sorrowful and rebellious soul, were alluring to him from the inside out.
There is a sentence in Wang Jiazhi's book: It is no longer the case that as long as you are willing to open the door, she will wait for you inside.
After she was gone, he read this sentence and remembered the night she died. He opened the door and the room was dark. The light from the corridor shone in from the doorway and just illuminated the place on the bed where she had sat. Now it was he who sat there, and it was his shadow reflected in the mirror.
There was no Wang Jiazhi left in the world. Looking back on the past, it seemed as if he had always stood at her door. This room was like her lonely world. She had begged him to come in so many times, but he would only fight her to death. Then he would leave, leaving her alone inside, bleeding and sad. Only after she was gone did he think about getting to know her better, and he entered her world, but she would never know.
Strangely enough, in her previous life, when Wang Jiazhi wrote those novels, she had only a brief encounter with him in Hong Kong. Yet, the stories and words in the books seemed to have come true, their story resonating everywhere. Yet, the creator herself never realized this until her death. She believed that in the end, she would be just one of his countless lovers, soon to be forgotten. If he didn't forget, he would simply hate her and dislike her.
They'd been avoiding talking about their Hong Kong experience, as if they'd both lost their memory, neither remembering their first encounter in Shanghai. It was like a familiar trope from novels and movies: a couple or a lover loses their memory, wakes up, and tells each other, "I'm your significant other." Then, they produced photos, certificates, and other evidence, gathering friends and family to attest to their relationship. Once the other person believed them, they went on with their lives as usual. Even though they'd both lost their memory, they knew they were a couple, so naturally, they stayed together.
But there was one time when Wang Jiazhi heard something and came back to ask him, "What did you feel when you first met me?"
He smiled and said that it reminded him of "Shuo Ren" in the Book of Songs. She was very happy to hear that.
But he only said the first layer. He first thought of the "Book of Songs", and then thought that this tall, white and beautiful little white cat must be very...
He didn't say it not because he was afraid that she would think he was vulgar, but because he knew the cause of her illness. Seeing how innocent she looked at that time, she should not have been ruined.
It was indeed wise for him not to say anything, because if he did, Wang Jiazhi would really think that way.
In her previous life, after that incident, she found herself bleeding. It was the first time he had made her bleed, and she felt as if a needle had stabbed her in the heart. It happened a few more times after that, and she felt sad every time.
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