Chapter 94 Chapter 94 Headless Candy.
The road that Gu Huaijin took her to sneak down the mountain was the road that Wu Dao planned to take her out of the mountain.
The road leads to the foot of the snow-capped peaks, in the other direction of the sea of yellow roses.
Standing in front of the dark cave, Nan Qiong Shuang's hair was blown up by the cold wind in the cave.
Gu Huaijin stood beside her: "It's very dark. Can I carry you?"
She hadn't done anything yet and had no strength left, so she nodded exhaustedly.
Gu Huaijin held her in his arms.
The cave was dark and damp, the darkness sticking thickly to the skin and icy to the bones.
She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about anything, and put her ear to his chest, listening quietly to his heartbeat.
"I used to walk this path often when I was little. I was naughty back then, and my father kept a close eye on me, but I always found a way to escape," he laughed. "But the path here is so complicated. When I was little, I would scrape the rock face with a dagger along the way, leaving marks to avoid getting lost on the way back."
He carried her to the mountain wall and asked, "Would you like to touch it?"
She had little interest in these little things now. She followed his instructions and touched it. Sure enough, her fingertips touched a few lines of carved knife marks. "Hmm."
"Still not feeling well?"
"No."
"If you don't feel well, we'll go back."
She grabbed his sleeve tightly: "No."
It was their first Qiqiao Festival and also their last.
So, not going back.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, the darkness broke and a dazzling light suddenly appeared before my eyes.
Down the mountain, Sifang Town was neither large nor small. While not bustling, it wasn't deserted either. Strings of colorful and intricate lanterns filled the sky, stretching out endlessly. The market seemed to be covered by a shroud of flickering red light. Lanterns dangled from the eaves of every household, and the streets were bustling with people, shoulder to shoulder.
That was the first time she appeared in the crowd openly without wearing night clothes or avoiding anyone's gaze.
She closed her eyes. The wind, carrying the sounds of hawkers, people talking, and the aroma of pancakes and walnut cakes, gently brushed against her face.
If she were free, the wind would smell like this.
Freedom, and...
She stopped thinking about it.
Gu Huaijin was afraid that she was not feeling well and would get sick again after walking a few steps, so he held her all the way to the market at the foot of the mountain, not daring to let go.
She snuggled up to his neck all the way, and was quite responsible. She stopped crying when she shouldn't have.
Finally arriving at the market, he gently put her down and held her carefully.
"arrive."
In Sifang Town, lanterns are hung high, and the town is decorated with colorful lights, making it extremely lively.
The people in the town were all ordinary people, wearing coarse linen clothes, the men only tied their hair with a scarf, and the women wore only some ordinary jewelry. Although simple, everyone was happy and lively, with rosy faces.
The Qiqiao Festival is a festival for lovers to meet. People on the street are in pairs, and she looks at the couples with great interest.
In front of the stall, a piece of coarse linen was spread on the ground, with some dull jewelry on it. It was a small stall. A pair of lovers stopped in front of the stall. The woman was ordinary-looking, but her eyes were smiling. Her lover picked up a thick silver hairpin and held it to her hair. She looked back and forth at a broken mirror on the coarse linen, her face flushed with shame.
Nearby, a barefoot old man sat leaning against the wall, a white cloth beneath his butt, a variety of handmade lanterns spread out. A woman picked up one, and the man next to her took out money and muttered, "I buy it every year, every time, and after I buy it, I only light it for one day."
Ahead, another couple was having an argument. The girl wiped her tears with a handkerchief, stamped her foot, and ran forward a few steps. Fearing she'd run too far and be kidnapped, she looked back every two or three steps. Her lover, however, stood there motionless, unsure what to do, like a goose.
She found everything new and interesting, and watched quietly without saying a word.
Gu Huaijin didn't notice anything, looked around, and saw someone selling sugar paintings nearby. He wanted to ask her if she wanted one.
He looked down at her and was stunned.
Why are you looking at all this with such eyes?
Fresh and enviable, nostalgic and attached, even though I haven't lost it yet, I've already started to miss it.
It’s like a person who is used to losing. When he sees something he has always dreamed of, he dares not grab it and only wants to remember it.
Suddenly, in the sea of bright lights, she raised her eyes and looked at him.
The thing she dared not grasp and only wanted to remember suddenly became him.
People are coming and going on the street.
He was stunned.
Why are you looking at him like that?
She said nothing, and didn't shed a single tear. Her eyes curved into crescents, and there was a hint of red in the bottom of her eyes, gleaming with crystal-clear light.
"What are you looking at? Let's go."
He asked, "Jiaojiao, do you have something to say to me?"
She didn't answer, but walked forward alone without looking back.
Gu Huaijin didn't know why, but he always felt that once she left, they would be separated and would never see each other again. He panicked and hurried to catch up.
He grabbed her hand and found that it was soaked with cold sweat. He was startled and asked, "Are you feeling unwell?"
"No."
"Why are your hands so cold?"
She didn't explain: "Why don't you just warm me up?"
He took both of her hands in his palms and held them tightly. "Let's go back. You've been..."
"I'm not going back." She said firmly, pointing to the stall in front of her: "Is there anyone selling combs over there? There are so many people there."
Gu Huaijin led her towards the stall, and after every three steps he looked back twice, "Are you really okay?"
She didn't respond, "Why do we sell combs on Qiqiao Festival?"
"They say that if a couple shares a comb, it's considered a marriage of joy." He stopped in front of the stall. "This is a custom in Sifang Town. Jiaojiao has been working as a boat girl here, so how come she doesn't know this?"
You see, if you keep hiding something, one day you won’t be able to keep it hidden any longer.
She didn't answer, but squatted in front of the stall and watched with interest.
There were a wide variety of combs on the stall: half-moon jade combs were translucent and warm, painted wooden combs were bright and colorful, and horseshoe-shaped lacquered wooden combs had intricate patterns. She leaned her elbows on her knees, cupped her face in her hands, and looked at them, unable to choose for a moment.
"Which one do you want?" he asked.
She looked around with a slightly false smile.
Finally, he laughed at himself, shook his head, and stood up.
Nan Qiong Shuang, what are you doing?
You can't keep the things you want just by buying a comb.
Gu Huaijin said to the vendor, "Get a jade comb."
She was stunned. He handed her the half-moon carved jade comb. It was smooth, cool, and delicate. "Why did you buy jade? The stones sold at this stall may not be real jade."
He laughed: "My selfishness."
She didn't understand.
Then, he reacted.
His name is Huai Jin.
She was silent, lowered her eyes, brushed a strand of her long hair, placed it in front of her chest, and combed it carefully.
Gu Huaijin walked to her side, pulled up a strand of his hair, mixed it with her long hair, and combed it with the jade comb.
The black, shiny and smooth hair is combed open by the translucent teeth all the way to the end of the hair.
He picked up the strand of hair that belonged to them both, raised his eyes and smiled at her, "Jiaojiao, this is how we are married."
Under the bright lights, his expression was as gentle as usual. The brilliant light made the bags under his eyes look almost crystal clear when he smiled, and there were two points of light in his eyes like bright snow.
Those smiling eyes now hurt her every time she looks at them for a moment.
She laughed.
Suddenly, there was a strange twitch in her chest. She couldn't tell whether it was a sob or a dry cough. She suppressed it with laughter and looked left and right.
He put the jade comb back into his sleeve and pulled her through the crowd.
In front, there is a small stall selling sugar paintings.
Gu Huaijin pulled her over and asked, "What pattern do you want?"
She lowered her eyes and saw some ready-made ones on the stall. She looked at them carefully one by one and laughed.
All of them are ugly.
The peony is painted like a wheel, the dragon is painted like an earthworm, and the dog has its left eye pointing to the sky and its right eye pointing to the ground, showing some extraordinary wisdom.
She shook her head and whispered in his ear: "If it's painted like this, it's better not to come out."
Gu Huaijin raised an eyebrow: "Really? It's not better than your painting."
She was trapped in sorrow and couldn't get out of it. These words made her stunned for a moment and then she laughed out of anger.
"What? Slander. Have you ever seen me draw?"
"You've never painted before?" He laughed. "Didn't you make a rough sketch for Baitang's clothes? I saw it, and it was so ugly that I didn't even dare to tease you."
She scoffed again in anger.
"Didn't dare? What do you mean by didn't dare? Will I scold you if my painting is not good?"
"You're not scolding me?" He shrugged. "What pattern do you want? I'll draw it for you."
The best painter on the mountain, you really stand out now, Nan Qiongshuang gave him a blank look.
"I'll draw it myself." She took the copper coin from Gu Huaijin's hand and handed it to the old man guarding the stall. "Can I draw it myself?"
The old man received the money without having to work, so he was naturally happy to be lazy and nodded repeatedly.
Gu Huaijin put his arm around her waist and asked, "What are you drawing?"
"Draw you."
"Draw me?" He pointed a finger at himself in confusion. "Sugar painting is best done with just a few strokes. You want to draw me?"
"It's very simple." She didn't even look up.
Gu Huaijin had no choice but to wait and see.
Nan Qiongshuang took the spoon filled with syrup and scooped it smoothly on the stone slab, making a circle.
Gu Huaijin took one look and laughed: "My face is so round?"
She didn't answer, but drew a well-shaped pattern on the circle.
Gu Huaijin immediately knew what she was going to draw, sighed and rubbed his eyebrows.
She added five small arcs around the circle. The syrup dried up in an instant, and she put the spoon back into the casserole beside her.
The old man came over and stuck her sugar painting on a wooden stick. He picked it up and looked at it. He laughed out loud and said:
"This turtle is so lifelike."
Nan Qiongshuang took it and compared it to his face: "Did you hear that? They said it was lifelike."
Gu Huaijin tilted his head. The usually handsome and elegant man was both amused and helpless. He glanced at her for a while without saying anything and scratched her face with his index finger.
She brought the turtle closer to his eyes, a golden, translucent candy, raised into the air, almost amber: "This is you."
Gu Huaijin laughed coldly, took her hand, and bit the candy turtle. With a click, he bit off the turtle's head.
Looking at her shocked and unbelievable face, he chewed proudly: "Why? Didn't you come to me to feed me?"
"You..." She bit her lip, hit him angrily, lowered her head and bit the place where he had bitten her.
"There are portrait painters there," she said.
He said nothing, just looked at her.
A bit of burnt-yellow sugar clung to her lips, revealing a shimmering luster. It seemed to have melted slightly, leaving even her lips stained with sugary liquid.
Soft and delicate lips.
Every time he put it in his mouth, his heart melted.
He didn't answer for a long time. Nan Qiong Shuang was stunned and looked back at him in confusion.
"What's wrong?"
There were huge crowds of people, bustling about. In the sea of lights, he looked at her tenderly and lovingly.
After a while, he sighed and pressed the tip of his thumb on her lips, rubbing them absentmindedly.
He was itching to kiss you when he got home tonight.
night.
Her eyes suddenly turned red and she staggered half a step away to avoid his eyes.
Gu Huaijin took her hand again. "Want to paint a small portrait?" He suddenly remembered the dream. "I'm the best at painting. Why do you always want someone else to paint?"
"What do you mean by 'always'?"
He doesn't speak.
In that dream, after she finished drawing the portrait, she left, leaving him alone in the crowd. No matter how much he collapsed, she refused to look back.
He didn't like that dream.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked.
"Jingjiao," he looked up at the sky. There was a dazzling and colorful Milky Way stretching across the horizon. He looked at the Milky Way, distantly and bewilderedly, and suddenly asked:
"Will you leave?"
She was stunned.
He said, "You can't leave."
She dropped her eyes.
The clasped hands slowly tightened, and Gu Huaijin used some force to hold her hand.
His eyes were slightly red, with a glimmer of light in them, fragile yet paranoid:
"Jiaojiao, promise me."
Who was leaving? He still didn't understand.
She said, "Okay."
Gu Huaijin got her promise, but no matter what, he couldn't relax.
For some reason, he always felt that she was planning to leave him recently.
Or, - abandon him.
He was so flustered that he ignored the crowds of people on the street, hugged her in his arms and kissed her earlobe.
"Go back tonight and let me kiss you properly, okay?"
In front of so many people, she didn't get angry. She put her hand on his back and wrinkled his clothes.
"good."
She didn't dare think about it anymore.
"Do you still want to paint the portrait?" she asked. "If not..."
If you don’t want to paint, don’t talk about going back yet.
"Draw it." He didn't know why, but he vaguely felt that it would be a good idea to leave a painting of her behind. Although he still wanted to draw one for her himself, it was too late in the end.
What's too late?
He took her hand and led her to the stall. He said to the busy vendor, "Old man, could you please paint a small portrait of my wife?"
As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he was stunned.
In the dream, he seemed to say exactly the same words.
The old man turned around, with the same gray hair as in the dream, the same wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and between his eyebrows, and the same black mole.
"A couple? Newlyweds?"
Her face flushed and she grabbed his collar: "What nonsense are you talking about."
He stood there, as if struck by a bolt of thunder.
Why?
Why does everything coincide with that dream?
He suddenly remembered the look she had given him just now—not seeking to capture it, but only to remember it.
His eyes suddenly turned red: "Are you really going to leave?!"
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