Chapter 22: The boats and carriages are heading towards the evening, and the capital is just beginning to close
While morning dew still clung to the doorknocker of the Fang residence, the wooden wheels of the first carriage had already rolled over the bluestone slabs. Little Swallow, leaning against the carriage window, watched the familiar vermilion-lacquered gate recede into the distance. The vine-covered courtyard wall was blurred into a blur of green by the morning mist. Her nose suddenly felt sore, and she quickly buried her face in the cloth bag in her arms—it contained the rose seeds she had collected overnight, and on the bag was a half-finished rose embroidered.
"Don't lie down too long, it's cold." Xiao Jian sat beside her, holding a well-thumbed travelogue. Noticing his sister's shoulders sway slightly, he reached out and pulled the curtain toward the center, blocking the cool breeze from the passage. He was wearing a navy shorts today, so he could be on the lookout for them on the road. A small swallow-embroidered amulet hung from the sheath of his dagger at his waist, which clashed gently with the carriage's rocking motion, making a small, creaking sound.
Little Swallow grumbled, "Hmm," and fished a flower seed from her cloth bag, twisting it between her palms. The seed was small, carrying the scent of earth. She had personally gathered it yesterday by the lotus pond. Mrs. Li approached with freshly brewed mint tea. Seeing her daughter vacantly clutching the flower seed between her fingers, she placed the tea bowl on the small table and said softly, "When we get to the capital, have the servants dig up the empty space in the backyard, and we'll plant it ourselves. Next year, the yard will be filled with flowers."
"Can I really survive?" Xiaoyanzi looked up, her eyelashes still a little damp, but her eyes lit up. "The soil in the capital is different from that in the south of the Yangtze River. Will you dislike it?"
"Flower seeds are stronger than you think." Fang Zhihang stepped out from the carriage in front, holding a folded map with the day's route marked in red. He sat down next to Xiaoyanzi and pointed to the river on the map. "Let's take a boat to Yangzhou first, then change carriages and head north. It's smooth sailing and we'll reach the capital in less than two weeks. When your roses bloom, Dad will teach you how to make rouge from the petals. It's even more fragrant than the ones you buy in the shops."
Xiaoyanzi was so moved by what he said that the flower seeds on her fingertips seemed to have gained strength. She carefully put the seeds back into the cloth bag and tied it around her waist: "Then I will let them bask in the sun every day, just like when I was in the south of the Yangtze River." She lifted the car curtain a little, watching the Jiangnan water town in the morning mist gradually recede, and the white walls and black tiles turned into blurred shadows. Her heart suddenly warmed - it was great to have family members accompanying her on a journey far away in this life, unlike her previous life, when there was not even someone to say "safe journey".
The carriage lurched northward, leaving Jiangnan. At first, the view outside the window was of small bridges, flowing water, and blue-tiled, white-walled buildings. But after passing Yangzhou, the scenery gradually changed. The river widened, and the reeds on both sides grew taller than a person, rustling in the wind. Further north, the plains opened up, and villages appeared sparsely in the distance, their earthy-yellow roofs gleaming warmly in the sunlight.
At first, Little Swallow couldn't get enough of the sight by clinging to the car window. When she saw a windmill, she would clap her hands in surprise: "Look, Mom! That wheel turns like a windmill. It can be used to grind flour, right?" When she met a vendor selling candy figures, her eyes lit up: "These candy figures are only sweet when eaten hot. They become hard when they are cold." As soon as she said this, she was stunned. These trivial common sense were obviously learned by struggling on the streets in her previous life. How could she blurt them out so easily?
Resting at the post station that night, while Li braided her hair, she rambled on about the latest happenings in the capital: "I heard the alleys in the capital are so interconnected that if you go the wrong way, you can spend half a day wandering around..." Little Swallow listened, nodding, her fingers unconsciously twirling the ends of her braids—she knew, of course, that in a past life, she'd wandered through the alleys until dark to deliver medicine to Liu Qing, only to have a kind old man show her the way. These memories, buried deep in her heart, were like seeds buried in the soil, eager to sprout the moment she approached the capital.
After about ten days of travel, they finally saw the outline of the capital in the distance. The city walls were tall and thick, moss growing in the cracks between the blue-gray bricks. Flags on the gate towers fluttered in the wind, and a constant stream of carriages and pedestrians came and went. Xiaoyanzi suddenly sat up straight, her fingers trembling as she clung to the window, her throat tight—it was Deshengmen! She couldn't mistake it. In her past life, she had passed through this gate countless times, and she remembered it clearly, having seen several generations of guards.
"That's Deshengmen." Xiao Jian looked in the direction she pointed, his eyes a little more alert. "Don't run around after entering the city. Let's go to our residence first." Seeing his sister staring at the city gate in a daze, he thought she was nervous and whispered to her, "Don't be afraid, I'm here."
Xiaoyanzi shook her head, her fingertips unconsciously picking at the tassels of the carriage curtain, her voice a little hoarse: "I'm not afraid, I just feel that... this city gate looks really familiar." It was like old friends who had been separated for a long time finally met again.
The carriage slowly pulled into the city gates, the clacking of its wheels over the cobblestones a familiar sound. The streets were lined with shops, the signs of the silk shops, the lanterns of the restaurants, the plaques of the bookstores, even the tunes of the waiters calling out from the doorways—they were exactly as I remembered them. A woman carrying a basket passed by, muttering, "The vegetable prices have gone up again today." The crisp Beijing dialect pierced her ears, and Xiaoyanzi's eyes suddenly welled up—she had heard this local accent for over a decade, how could she forget it?
"There seems to be a grocery store up ahead." Xiaoyanzi pointed to the street corner, her eyes sparkling. "They must sell needles and thread, combs and rakes, and maybe even coarse cloth."
Fang Zhihang poked his head in from the front carriage and joked with a smile: "Our Ci'er hasn't even entered the city yet and it's already connected to the capital? Once you're settled, let your mother take you for a good tour."
Xiaoyanzi stuck out her tongue and quickly lowered her head, her heart churning. It turned out those memories, long forgotten, hadn't left her. She remembered the owner of this grocery store loving to hum songs, the steamers at the bun shop next door always emitting white steam, and the direction of the compound where she lived in her previous life, just around the corner...
The carriage passed through several streets and alleys before turning into a quiet alley. The old locust tree at the entrance was lush and leafy, almost identical to the one at the entrance to the compound in my memory. Its dense shade exuded a sense of peace and tranquility. The carriage stopped in front of the vermilion-lacquered gate of the "Fang Mansion." The plaque on the lintel still had the luster of fresh paint. Several servants were already waiting at the door. They hurried to greet them, "Master, Madam, Young Master, Young Miss, you've finally arrived!"
Little Swallow followed her parents down from the carriage. As soon as she landed, she was captivated by the courtyard before her. Two lush peonies flanked the gate. A birdcage hung on the central courtyard porch, and a thrush chirped at the sight of people. The door to the backyard was ajar, revealing the old locust tree, its trunk so thick it took two people to hug it. Beneath it stood a stone table and stone bench.
"How is it?" Li pulled her towards the backyard and pointed to the empty space. "The servant said the soil here is very fertile. Is it enough for you to grow roses?"
Little Swallow ran to the base of the locust tree and looked up at the dense branches. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, shimmering warmly on her face. She reached out and hugged the trunk, the rough bark rubbing against her palms. Suddenly, she remembered a time in her past life, under the old locust tree in the compound. Liu Hong taught her how to mend shoe soles, Liu Qing chopped wood nearby, and Xiao Douzi and the others gathered around to grab some candy... Those everyday memories had always been hidden in the softest part of her heart.
After inspecting the yard, Xiao Jian came over and handed her a wooden swallow: "I carved this on the road to calm you down." The swallow's wings were painted with vermilion, making it look lifelike.
Little Swallow took it, held it tightly in her hand, and suddenly smiled, her eyes shining like falling stars: "Brother, let's plant roses tomorrow? I want them to bloom quickly."
The evening breeze blew in through the window lattice, carrying the delicate fragrance of locust leaves. Little Swallow sat by the window, pouring rose seeds into her palm. The seeds shimmered faintly in the moonlight. From afar came the familiar sound of a clapper. "Dong—dong—" two knocks, just like countless ordinary nights in a past life, gentle and steady.
She picked up the embroidery needle and continued embroidering the roses on the cloth bag. The needlepoint moved across the fabric, stitch by stitch, incorporating the warmth of Jiangnan, the familiarity of Beijing, and her hopes for the future. This time, she was no longer alone. She had family, a new home, and the courage to face the familiar past.
As the night deepened, the lights in the Fang Mansion lit up one by one, their warm yellow light filtering through the window paper and illuminating the bluestone slabs of the alley, like a field of scattered starlight. The warm wind from the capital gently blew through the old locust tree, and also blew the flower in Xiaoyanzi's heart open—her new life had just begun.
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