Inside and outside the umbrella
When Xu Jianing returned to the dormitory, the dim light bulbs in the corridor flickered on and off, and the damp air was still filled with the fishy smell of rain.
He quickly tidied himself up, draped his wet undershirt over a bamboo pole by the window, and then went to the public bathhouse for a hot shower. When he came out again, the clock on the wall was almost seven o'clock.
Xu Jianing looked at the clock on the wall and hesitated for a moment. He had originally planned to stay at school this month, but then he remembered that Chen Tianying had asked someone to write a letter to him, telling him that he must go home this week.
I said I would go back, so I can't go back on my word.
So he stuffed a few things into his canvas bag and took an umbrella with him before leaving.
The rain had stopped, but the steps outside the corridor were still full of water. He walked carefully, his shoes slowly revealing slippery mud.
The bustling atmosphere of the evening was long gone, with only a few people remaining. Most of the people waiting for the bus were wearing faded blue clothes or old cloth shirts, with patched snakeskin bags and bamboo baskets at their feet, quietly waiting for the last bus to arrive.
The muddy ground beside the awning was worn smooth by the wheels of vehicles, and water accumulated in the potholes, reflecting the dim yellow light and shimmering with a faint glow.
Xu Jianing carried the old canvas bag on his shoulder. The corners of the bag were worn white, and the fabric was stiff and stuck together because it had been wet by the rain.
He stood quietly, his expression as indifferent as ever, but his hair, still damp with moisture, made him look somewhat disheveled.
The bus lights gradually illuminated the darkness, causing the waiting passengers to squint, and the engine churned.
"Get on the bus! Hurry up!" the ticket seller shouted, sticking his head out.
The crowd surged forward, splashing mud everywhere. The doorway was narrow, and everyone jostled and pushed their way in, afraid of missing the last bus back to their village. Chaos reigned at the door. The ticket seller urged them on while reaching out to pull hesitant passengers onto the bus.
Xu Jianing sat down by the window and reached out to wipe the fogged glass. He could only see the blurry night view outside through streaks of water.
Amidst the roar of the engine in his ears, he seemed to hear that phrase again—
"I'm going to catch up with you, in terms of grades."
That earnest and stubborn look gradually appeared on the car window as the rain streaks appeared.
Xu Jianing's fingertips rested on the cold glass, her eyebrows twitched slightly, and she couldn't help but raise her hand to her forehead, chuckling softly.
A smile flashed across his lips, then quickly disappeared into the night.
The car sputtered along, and after leaving the county town, the streetlights outside the window became fewer and fewer, leaving only the dark country road gradually illuminated by the car headlights.
The carriage was stuffy, filled with the smell of diesel fuel mixed with the damp earth. Some people had already dozed off in their seats, their snores mingling with the flapping of chickens and ducks. As the vehicle drove through the fields, the bumpy dirt road jolted and jolted, causing the people in the carriage to sway and stagger.
Xu Jianing's eyes were half-closed, his expression seemingly calm, but only he knew:
Those words still echo in my ears.
——
The bus bumped along in the dark until it finally stopped at the entrance of town.
Passengers disembarked in twos and threes, dragging sacks and carrying bamboo baskets, their footsteps gradually fading away on the wet dirt road.
Xu Jianing, carrying a canvas bag, got off the bus, opened his umbrella, and walked along the familiar country road towards his village. The road was muddy after the rain, and his shoes were covered in mud. The surroundings were so quiet that only the chirping of insects and the occasional barking of dogs in the distance could be heard.
When he pushed open the courtyard gate, the house was pitch black.
"Mother?" Xu Jianing called out.
No one responded.
Just as he was wondering, there was a rustling sound coming from the inner room, and a figure came out carrying a kerosene lamp. It was his elder brother, Xu Chengtao.
"Ah Ning, you're back."
The dim light flickered, illuminating Xu Chengtao's forehead, which was covered in sweat. He still carried the smell of labor, and his cuffs were stained with grayish-black marks, clearly indicating that he had just returned from the factory.
Xu Jianing put down the umbrella and asked, "Where's Mother?"
Xu Chengtao placed the kerosene lamp on the table, the flame flickering and illuminating a small patch of light in the dim room.
“Mother isn’t home.” He sighed. “Aunt Wang passed away a while ago. She left in a hurry, leaving him all alone at home. He caught a fever from being caught in the rain during the day, and with no one to take care of him, Mother was really worried and went to stay with him.”
The "fool" Xu Chengtao mentioned was a pitiful person known far and wide in the village.
He's over forty years old now, in the prime of his life, but a high fever he had as a child wasn't treated in time, damaging his brain and leaving him slow-witted and unable to do delicate work. He's relied on Aunt Wang for support for most of his life, living in poverty.
When villagers talk about him, they always shake their heads and sigh. If he had been discovered in time and sent to the county hospital for a check-up, he might not have become mentally disabled.
The simpleton was quite strong, but he wasn't good at doing chores. He would often help with harvesting wheat or carrying water, but he would forget his own strength and spill things, making others both angry and amused. Over time, the villagers only allowed him to do odd jobs on the side and give him a meal as a form of support.
Fortunately, Aunt Wang is kind-hearted and helpful. She is always there for weddings and funerals. Whenever someone is short of help with farm work, she is always the first to lend a hand, never caring about losing out.
One of the things she often said before her death was, "When I'm gone someday, please remember to help my son out as much as possible."
Upon hearing this, Xu Jianing couldn't quite describe the feeling in his heart.
He remembers clearly that several times he didn't want to go to work in the fields, so he would secretly take his books and run to read under the big tree when the adults weren't looking.
Just then, Aunt Wang happened to pass by.
He thought he was going to get scolded. After all, his family was busy with farm work, and he had sneaked out to read. If someone shouted at him and it got back to the fields, he would definitely get a scolding from his father.
Just as he was panicking and didn't know what to do, she didn't say anything to blame him or expose him. She just smiled at him and took two eggs out of the bamboo basket and put them in his palm: "Study hard and you will be successful in the future."
At that time, Xu Jianing felt both grateful and somewhat guilty.
After all, her son should be of school age.
But now, she's gone, leaving behind a "child" in his forties, all alone in the village.
Xu Jianing had met the mentally challenged man a few times. Although the man was mentally challenged and could not speak fluently, every time Xu Jianing saw him holding a book, he would give an awkward smile, clumsily step aside to let him pass, and say in a simple and honest voice, "Studying, good."
His respect for scholars was instilled in him little by little by his mother, Aunt Wang.
Thinking about this, I felt a mix of emotions.
Xu Jianing was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "I'm going to find my mother to lend a hand."
After saying that, he turned around to grab his umbrella and prepared to leave.
Xu Chengtao quickly called out to him, "Hey, where are you going? Our mother is watching over there, you won't be able to help even if you go."
"Besides, you know about Aunt Wang's room..."
Xu Chengtao didn't say what he was going to say next.
The house had fallen into disrepair over the years; patches of plaster were peeling off the walls, the roof often leaked when it rained, and it was damp and cold inside. Now that the people were gone, only a fool was left to guard it, making it seem even more dilapidated and desolate.
The only sound in the room was the soft hiss of the kerosene lamp, its flame flickering and casting the brothers' shadows on the wall, some long and some short.
"elder brother."
"I want to see Aunt Wang off." Xu Jianing's voice was a little hoarse.
Xu Chengtao was taken aback. He was about to say that the mourning had ended long ago, but when he looked at his younger brother, he saw that he was looking down and seemed to be thinking about something.
He also went during the days of mourning.
What impressed Xu Chengtong most was the image of the simpleton standing blankly before the coffin, surrounded by people weeping their hearts out. A few white candles burned in the main room, their flickering flames casting a pale, bleak light on the mourning hall.
Aunt Wang's coffin was placed in the middle, and a wailing woman slapped her thigh and wailed, while several elderly people covered their eyes and sighed incessantly. The paper money on the ground was burning brightly, and the choking smoke rose to the roof beams, mingling with the damp, gloomy air blowing in from outside.
Amidst the wailing, the simpleton just stood there, his eyes vacant. Looking at the coffin, he suddenly asked in a simple, honest voice, "Where's my mother? Why hasn't she come back yet?"
After saying that, he smiled foolishly, as if his mother would come out of the kitchen, pat him on the shoulder, and call him to get a bowl of rice.
The crying all around suddenly grew louder, and several women couldn't help but wipe away their tears: "Sigh, they're such grown-ups, and they still don't know what 'Mother is gone' means."
This scene was even more heartbreaking than the crying.
When Xu Chengtao came to his senses, Xu Jianing had already left.
The sky darkened again, and the dim country roads were obscured by the heavy rain. Occasionally, lightning would flash, illuminating the field ridges and low houses for a moment before being swallowed by darkness again.
Xu Jianing gripped the umbrella handle tightly, the veins on the back of his hands bulging slightly. Mud splashed onto his trouser legs, but he paid no attention, focusing only on walking forward.
"Study hard, and you'll have a bright future."
"I wish my son could be like you."
"Could you teach my mentally challenged son to read during your vacation? I can't read, so I can't teach him."
Everyday words of advice have now become last words.
Soon, he arrived at the entrance of Aunt Wang's courtyard and could vaguely hear Chen Tianying comforting him: "Be good, don't move around, drink your medicine first."
Immediately following was the slow, sluggish reply from the simpleton: "Where's my mother? Why isn't my mother... coming back yet?"
"Your mother...she went to a faraway place. She asked me to take care of you."
The fool took it seriously and drank the medicine in the bowl in one gulp. After a while, he asked again in a simple and honest voice, "Will she come back tomorrow?"
Chen Tianying couldn't hold back her tears, lowered her head to wipe them away, and said in a trembling voice, "I don't know."
The simpleton wasn't very talkative. After asking the question, he slumped wearily at the head of the bed and soon fell into a deep sleep. Chen Tianying tucked the blanket around him and then left the room. She stood by the bed for a while before taking the kerosene lamp and heading outside.
When she stepped out of the house, she saw her son holding an umbrella and standing quietly under the eaves waiting for her.
"You're here?" Chen Tianying wasn't surprised that he came.
Xu Jianing hummed in response, her eyes swirling with emotion. Mother and son looked at each other in the sound of rain, neither of them rushing to speak again.
Chen Tianying suddenly pulled a crumpled cloth bag from her bosom and handed it to Xu Jianing.
Xu Jianing was taken aback, then reached out and took the bag. The cloth bag was heavy; when opened, it contained some wrinkled, yellowed banknotes, and even a few faded grain coupons, clearly saved up little by little by Aunt Wang.
"This is what she asked me to give to you."
"She said this money is for your college education, and she knows that college education costs a lot of money."
Chen Tianying choked up as she said, "She also said that she was especially grateful to you, because you were the only person in the village willing to teach her child to read. She has never been literate in her life, and this is the thing she feels most guilty about."
"Jia Ning." She suddenly called out to him.
"I have gained a son, and you have gained a brother."
Xu Jianing clutched the cloth bag in his hand, lowered his head, his shoulders trembling violently, unable to utter a single word.
He suddenly knelt down and kowtowed heavily at the doorway.
With a "thud," his forehead hit the ground, and raindrops dripped from the eaves, mingling with the tears on his face.
This bow carried all the gratitude and guilt in his heart, as well as a young man's most clumsy yet most solemn promise to the deceased.
His forehead remained pressed against the cold ground, and he didn't lift it for a long time.
Chen Tianying held an umbrella and stood silently beside him, sheltering him from the rain.
Outside the umbrella, the rain was pattering softly.
Inside the umbrella, intermittent sobs could be heard.
At that moment, everything around seemed to fall silent, leaving only the unfinished words between him and the deceased.
After returning from Aunt Wang's house, Xu Jianing sat quietly on the bed for a long time.
It was late at night, and Xu Chengtao was fast asleep. His snores came from above, and the bed creaked slightly with each turn of his head. The sound was particularly clear in the quiet night.
The room was lit only by a kerosene lamp, so the light was dim, and his shadow was stretched long and projected onto the wall.
The shadow was silent; only the person who was awake knew what they were thinking.
He had always thought that studying was a personal matter, the only way out of the fields, and a rope to escape fate.
But now, he suddenly realized that wasn't the case.
They placed their hopes on him, not because he was much smarter than others, but simply because he was still on his way.
Some people can no longer walk, while others have never walked at all.
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