When I pushed open the mottled wooden door, the musty smell wrapped in years of dust hit me in the face. The room with peeling walls was like an old well covered in dust, and the cold air penetrated right into the bones.
Chen Mengzhao hung our coats in the closet. The moment the tip of her hair brushed the back of my hand, I felt a slight shiver.
She and I went to the kitchen, and I skillfully started a fire with dry wood. The moment she bent over to add firewood to the stove, her light grey sweater was wrapped around her familiar curves, and memories suddenly surged in her mind.
I heard my own rapid breathing, and the next second I had her in my arms. Her body was stiff as a string at first, but soon turned into a pool of spring water. The scalding tears seeped through my sweater and stained my skin, leaving traces of burning heat in the cold.
"Why..." Her voice muffled in my heart, like crushed moonlight, "You have already forgotten me."
The firewood in the furnace suddenly burst into sparks, and the orange light reflected her red eyes. I tightened my arms: "I tried, but I'm afraid I will never be able to erase you from my memory in this lifetime."
The damp fragrance of hair mixed with the smell of firewood rushed into my nostrils. Those thoughts that were deliberately buried finally broke through the ground in this dilapidated old house.
Chen Mengzhao's eyelashes were still stained with dried tears: "You must be starving. I'll drive your car to buy some food. There's a small store over there." She pointed at the winding dirt road outside the yard, her fingertips hanging in the air, slowly falling.
I clasped her cold wrist, pressed my Adam's apple against the top of her head and shook my head gently: "With you, I can stand even if I don't eat worldly fireworks." The flames in the furnace jumped up, dyeing the tips of her ears cherry blossom color.
She lowered her eyes and smiled softly, with a long-lost soft light in her dimples: "You are becoming sweeter and sweeter."
I lifted her chin and watched the flickering fire in her eyes shatter into stars: "I don't know whether it's sweet or not, why don't you try it yourself."
"Guan Hongjun!" She slapped my hand away in anger, her ears turning red, "Do you think I'm an experienced young girl? You're obviously seducing decent women now." The corners of her lips raised, and she couldn't hide the smile in her eyes.
I sighed, with a look of desolation in my eyes: "I'm afraid my chances of abducting you are limited."
She didn't share my sadness. Instead, she suddenly stood on tiptoe and scratched the tip of my nose. Her eyes were filled with familiar cunning and optimism. "Life is like a hopeless situation. Who knows what will happen in the future? At this moment yesterday, I was still sitting at home feeling sad, but at this moment today, aren't we hugging each other?"
I was deeply moved by her optimism. Yes! Who would know about Ming Wo?
The flickering flames in Chen Mengzhao's eyes were even brighter than the flames in the furnace.
The fragrance from her hair mixed with the scent of firewood, weaving a warm web in the dilapidated old house, trapping me in her confident smile. Those hopes that had been dormant for a long time, like new buds under the frozen soil, quietly pushed away the frost and snow covering our hearts.
We sat side by side on the creaking long bench, the dancing flames casting shadows on the mottled wall, swaying in the flickering light.
She gently leaned her head on my shoulder, her hair brushing against my neck, making me tremble with itchiness. "When Aunt Qin left," her voice was filled with warmth, "she was worried, but I think she must have felt at ease."
I looked at the dancing flames and thought of her gentle face in the black and white photo in the mourning hall. I couldn't help but sigh: "She gave her whole life's love to Zhang Xiaomin, spent her youth, suffered from illness, and in the end, they were not able to stay together. Maybe she would have some regrets, right?"
Chen Mengzhao suddenly sat up straight, with a hint of stubbornness in her eyes: "You don't understand her. I often go to the hospital to accompany her and listen to her talk about her youth." She paused, and her tone became gentle and firm, "In her heart, meeting Uncle Zhang and being able to keep this relationship are the most precious things. She never regretted those years."
My throat tightened, and I thought of Zhang Bomin's red and swollen eyes and hunched back, and my heart ached: "But this deep affection eventually became Zhang Bomin's shackles. She's gone, and he's probably going to have to spend the rest of his life repaying this debt of love..." The firewood in the furnace suddenly exploded, splashing a few sparks, which, like a sigh, dissipated in the cold air.
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