The red charcoal in the charcoal basin gradually turned into ashes, and the laughter and joy after the interview still lingered in the house.
The guests put on their coats one after another and said goodbye to the Lin family on the snow. The sound of car engines and farewells gradually faded away.
Only Mu Siwen was leaning against the carved door frame, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the kraft paper envelope in the pocket of his Zhongshan suit, his eyes following Lin Zhiyue's figure as she packed up the tea set.
"It's snowing heavily outside, why don't you leave in a hurry?"
Lin Weidong refilled the enamel pot with hot tea, and the rising mist blurred the lenses.
Mu Siwen smiled and shook his head, but did not move a step until Lin Zhiyue came out of the inner room with a pile of documents. He then quickly stepped forward and said, "I'll help you sort these out."
As the night deepens, the locust tree outside the window casts a mottled shadow in the moonlight.
Meng Shuang'er curled up in the corner of the street, looking at the warm yellow light coming from the Lin family's house, her nails digging deeply into her palms.
She saw Mu Siwen bending down to help Lin Zhiyue pick up the scattered drawings. Their shadows overlapped on the window paper, and the sporadic sound of firecrackers coming from afar was like the last thorn in her heart.
Meng Shuang'er's eyelashes were covered with frost, the hem of her military coat had long been soaked by the snow, and her numb feet moved back and forth in the snow.
She stared at the warm light coming from the Lin family's kitchen and heard Wen Yu's enthusiastic greeting floating in the wind: "Xiao Mu, stay for dinner! Auntie has cooked mutton soup!"
The crisp sound of porcelain bowls colliding could be heard from inside the house. Mu Siwen's hearty laughter mixed with Lin Lang's teasing: "He's so beautiful. He's been waiting for this meal!"
Meng Shuang'er bit her lower lip and tasted the taste of rust spreading on the tip of her tongue.
Through the frosted window glass, she saw Mu Siwen take the apron handed to him by Lin Zhiyue. The dark blue fabric wrapped around his slender figure. The two of them washing vegetables side by side looked exactly like the scene she had imagined countless times.
The north wind blew snowflakes onto her face, but she was completely unaware.
The icicles under the eaves hung longer and longer, shining coldly in the moonlight, just like her gradually turning colder heart.
When the aroma of mutton soup wafted from the Lin family, Meng Shuang'er finally turned around, staggering and crushing the snow on the ground, not noticing that her scarf was blown away by the wind.
She didn't know that she had been standing in the snow for three hours, and the laughter and joy in the house were always separated from her by a cold iron door.
The red lanterns under the corridor swayed gently in the night breeze. Lin Zhiyue wrapped herself tightly in her cotton jacket and walked Mu Siwen to the door. The snow dripping from the icicles of the eaves hit the stone steps, making a crisp sound.
When Mu Siwen turned around, his military boots left deep footprints in the snow, and the moonlight gave his outline a silver edge: "It's cold outside, you should go inside quickly."
As he spoke, he raised his hand, as if to smooth out her hair that was messed up by the wind, but he stopped in mid-air and tightened his scarf instead.
Lin Zhiyue nodded, and the white mist she exhaled dissipated into yarn under the moonlight: "Be careful on the road."
She looked at Mu Siwen's back as he turned around, and watched the navy blue coat gradually blend into the snow, until the sound of him breaking the thin ice merged with the north wind.
After sending Mu Siwen back, Lin Weidong's hand, covered with age spots, reached in first. The shoulders of his dark blue Zhongshan suit were stained with sweat, and the glass cans in the plastic bag made crisp sounds when they collided.
"Yueyue, come and see!"
The old man took two steps at a time and walked to the sofa. He rubbed his rough palms on his pants before taking the notice. His reading glasses slid to the tip of his nose, and his cloudy eyes narrowed into two slits.
He suddenly straightened his hunched back, his bloodshot eyes sparkling, "Grandpa, can I hold a graduation party for you?"
"At the Foreign Guest Hotel, call your Grandpa Mu's family, and Grandpa Bai and the others,
Lin Zhiyue looked at his grandfather's graying temples.
Looking at my grandfather, he looked excited, expectant, and a little cautious.
Lin Zhiyue really couldn't bear to refuse her grandfather.
"Just do it."
As soon as Lin Zhiyue finished speaking, Lin Weidong's hands covered with age spots began to tremble slightly.
He reached out to touch his granddaughter's head, but was afraid that his rough hands would mess up her hair. He held his hand in the air for a while before gently landing on her shoulder: "Okay, okay! Grandpa will go and book a table right away!"
When the old man turned around, the corner of his dark blue Zhongshan suit swept across the coffee table, causing the glass cans to tinkle again.
The north wind brought snow particles that hit the mottled window frames of the Mu family. Lin Weidong took off his woolen hat that was frozen stiff by the cold air and wiped the thin layer of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
The aluminum kettle on the coal stove in the house was bubbling. Mu Xuejun was repairing a military satchel under the dim light of a bulb. His reading glasses slid to the tip of his nose, and his calloused fingers deftly moved through the thick thread.
"Old Mu!"
Lin Weidong rubbed his frozen hands and moved closer to the fire. The snow on the shoulders of his Zhongshan jacket left dark marks on the brick floor. "Several of your children have been admitted to university. Should we hold a graduation banquet for them together?"
He took out a neatly folded copy of the admission letter from his faded canvas bag, the corners of which were damp from his body temperature.
Mu Xuejun paused, and the silver needle suspended in the air swayed slightly.
He looked at his comrade's bloodshot but sparkling eyes, and his thoughts drifted back to last year's cold winter.
Lin Zhiyue had a high fever, and it was I who rushed the child to the hospital overnight.
At this moment, the whistling north wind outside the window overlapped with the crisp sound of wheels rolling over the ice in his memory. He put down his work and rubbed his chin with his rough palm: "Okay, but this place... set up a table in a state-owned restaurant? Although the dishes are a bit old-fashioned, it's more affordable."
Lin Weidong suddenly straightened his hunched back and took out a crumpled newspaper from his arms, with oil stains on the corners.
On the yellowed pages, the news about the opening of the Foreign Guest Hotel was heavily circled in red pen: "Go there! I've asked around, the new building has a revolving door and glowing crystal chandeliers! The kids have studied so hard for so many years, it's time for them to see the world!"
He spoke excitedly, his saliva splashed on the stove cover, and tiny white smoke rose up.
Mu Xuejun's Adam's apple moved and his eyes swept over the photo of his son in military uniform on the wall.
As a veteran soldier from the battlefield, he was used to being frugal. But seeing his old comrade's face flushed with excitement, he finally smiled and nodded: "Okay, I'll do as you say! But we have to agree that each family will pay half of the money, so don't pay secretly!"
The snow outside the window stopped at some point, and the moonlight poured in through the icy glass, casting a layer of silver frost on the backs of their clasped hands.
Sporadic sounds of firecrackers came from afar, startling the sparrows under the eaves. Amid the fluttering of their wings, one seemed to hear the lively clinking of glasses at the graduation banquet.
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