Chapter 41 Life's Journey
The setting sun blazed through the hanging windows, and the staircase vanished into the evening light. An elongated figure was cast across the wooden staircase, and then its outline gradually became clearer.
Song Ting's figure came into everyone's sight, his neat short-sleeved shirt was fully bulged by his shoulders, and every step he took on the stairs made a muffled sound that echoed in the teahouse.
He took the last step and stopped. His tall figure took away most of the light and oxygen in the teahouse. Even the floating dust was disturbed by his footsteps.
Old Man Nan turned around, his eyes filled with deep and complex meaning, and said to Song Ting, "This is Xiao Lin."
Nan Jiu put his thumb in his trouser pocket and clasped the stitching of the hem. Blood was drawn from his fingertips, causing a slight numbness.
Song Ting didn't look at Nan Jiu, but walked straight to Old Man Nan and looked at Lin Songyao.
Lin Songyao stood up straight, a polite smile on his lips. "You must be Uncle Nanjiu, right? Hello, I'm Lin Songyao."
Lin Songyao took the initiative to extend his hand towards Song Ting, his movements natural. Song Ting glanced down at him, raised his hand and touched it briefly: "Just call me Song Ting."
The two men stood face to face, their height and aura almost evenly matched. Song Ting exuded a toughness and maturity honed by life. Lin Songyao, on the other hand, possessed a composure and depth nurtured by a life of luxury. Their eyes met, but there was no spark, no coldness, only a fierce scrutiny. They both released their hands almost simultaneously, stirring the air.
Old Master Nan glanced at Nan Jiu, whose face was tense, and subtly broke the deadlock. He invited Lin Songyao to sit down, then turned to Aunt Wu and said, "Would you like to stay for dinner?"
Aunt Wu quickly waved her hand: "No, you guys chat among yourselves, I won't disturb you."
Aunt Wu picked up her phone and left first. Old Man Nan murmured to himself, "Let's make some tea first."
Old Man Nan runs a teahouse, and since this is his future grandson-in-law's first visit, he should make him a cup of tea. Usually, whenever someone comes to the teahouse, as long as Old Man Nan says this, Song Ting will turn around and make tea.
However, today, Song Ting didn't move, clearly not intending to make tea. Old Man Nan sensed something was amiss and leaned on his cane to walk towards the tea cabinet.
Nanjiu stepped forward at the right time and said, "I'll go."
Ever since Nan Jiu said before his last birthday that he didn't want to see her again, she hadn't come back. Every holiday, she would send him a text message with a blessing and a red envelope. He never replied, nor did he accept it.
This time she suddenly called Nanjiu back, she was unsure what to do. She didn't know what her grandfather's attitude towards her was now, and she didn't know how much impact the incident had on Song Ting.
Yet, when they actually met, it felt as if the events of that year had never occurred. Nan Jiu wasn't sure if Grandpa had given her some face in front of Lin Songyao. In short, his attitude towards her was quite calm. Not only was Grandpa Nan kind and gentle, but even Song Ting was calm and composed in his every move, acting like a true uncle, inviting her and Lin Songyao to the table for dinner.
Nanjiu washed her hands and helped set the dishes. Song Ting naturally took the warm bowl from Nanjiu's hand. Their fingers brushed lightly, neither of them looking up, their movements smooth as if they had performed this many times before.
Ever since Nan Jiu entered the room, Song Ting hadn't even glanced at her. Nan Jiu also tried to avoid eye contact. In the room, aside from Lin Songyao, the other three people subtly maintained a delicate balance.
At the dinner table, Mr. Nan handed Lin Songyao a thick red envelope. Lin Songyao declined, but Mr. Nan stuffed it into his hand and said, "It's a meeting gift. This is the custom. Take it."
Song Ting glanced at the red envelope, lowered his eyes and wiped his hands slowly.
Lin Songyao glanced at Nanjiu, who nodded. He took the red envelope from the old man and thanked him.
After Lin Songyao sat down, he glanced around the teahouse. Most of the furnishings showed signs of age, except for the tea table, which remained pristine. Nan Jiu also noticed the brand-new tables and chairs and asked, "When were the tables replaced?"
"It was just changed last Tuesday, the day you called. The furniture delivery guy took the wrong route and delivered it late in the evening." Mr. Nan replied.
Lin Songyao took over the conversation, his tone considerate, "I've noticed that many shops at the entrance of the alley have installed signposts. The teahouse could consider one, too, to make it easier for customers to find it."
Song Ting carefully folded the hand towel and set it aside. "From the alley entrance to here, there are eighty-four paving stones. The old residents know what's buried under each one. Anyone who gets lost doesn't really want to drink tea."
Nan Jiu paused for a moment with his chopsticks in his hand, then turned to Lin Songyao and said, "Pass me a tissue."
Lin Songyao took out a piece of paper and handed it to Nanjiu, and the topic was dropped without anyone continuing.
After a moment, Mr. Nan spoke up, breaking the silence: "What is your main job now?"
"My current focus is on the commercial complex project. Starting from the second half of the year, I will gradually take over some of my father's businesses."
Mr. Nan was a little puzzled: "What is the complex for?"
"In fact, it is a new type of shopping mall with richer content. It integrates functions such as catering, entertainment, office, retail and exhibition into one building." Lin Songyao explained.
After hearing this, Mr. Nan nodded in understanding.
Lin Songyao smiled slightly, his words polite and thoughtful. "My dad also likes drinking tea, and he invested in several tea spaces in the early years. The shop has a Chinese antique style, relying on details like caissons and brackets to create an artistic atmosphere for drinking tea. If grandpa ever plans to renovate the teahouse in the future, I can arrange for a familiar designer and engineering team to help."
Song Ting slowly picked the bones from the fish's belly. Without raising his eyes, he asked calmly, "Which part do you think needs to be modified?"
Old Master Nan's originally relaxed gaze gradually became fixed, moving from Song Ting's face to Lin Songyao.
Lin Songyao approached Song Ting and said calmly, "Since the tables and chairs have been replaced with new ones, in principle, it's best to keep the color of the wooden frame consistent with the tables and chairs for a more harmonious visual effect."
"What else?" Song Ting's tone remained normal.
"And that pillar, I see quite a few scratches on it. If you can do that, the wall can be refinished, too."
Song Ting smiled, his face barely visible. He put down his chopsticks, his voice steady yet with a hint of force, "The four rooms and the attic of the teahouse have all been renovated. Do you know why the teahouse isn't being moved?"
Nanjiu couldn't help but slow down her movements in picking up food, and she never thought about the reason.
Lin Songyao didn't respond immediately, but just stared at Song Ting.
"That water stain on the wall behind you on the left," Song Ting raised his chin, his tone grave. "It's the flood line left by the 1998 flood. It was that wall that blocked the flood outside and saved this teahouse."
He paused, his eyes sweeping over the pearwood stand beside him. "That stand was made by Mr. Feng Changguang, a famous craftsman in Nancheng, in the year Hong Kong returned to China. The 2008 earthquake affected this area, and some of the tea sets in the teahouse were lost. However, the old glass tea jars on the stand, deposited by sixteen neighbors, remained intact."
"Of course, it's too brittle now to bear any weight, but every old tea drinker who comes here still makes a point to take a look." Song Ting's tone deepened. "When you say antique, it's not just about imitating the look of wood and painting it. What we really want to imitate is the human touch that these old objects have accumulated day by day and year by year. How do you imitate this?"
As soon as Song Ting finished speaking, the teahouse suddenly fell into silence.
Nan Jiu's eyes lightly passed over Lin Songyao's silent figure, and his eyebrows raised slightly.
Lin Songyao had a typical businessman's mindset, always considering profit as his starting point. Of course, this wasn't a flaw; at least at the negotiation table, he always managed to find the opponent's weak spot and deliver a fatal blow. This was the first time Nan Jiu had seen him speechless.
However, her subtle expression was noticed by Old Man Nan, who was sitting across from her. His husband was at a disadvantage, but his granddaughter not only did not defend him, but instead watched the show. The absurd feeling once again surfaced in the old man's heart.
"As for the scratches on this pillar," Song Ting turned his gaze to Nan Jiu for the first time, "these scratches were made by Grandpa every time he measured the heights of his grandchildren when they came back. Each scratch represents their height at different stages of growth. Little Jiu has a bad memory, so I'm afraid he can't even find his own scratches, right?"
Nan Jiu turned his head, and his eyes met Song Ting's briefly in the air, but they both looked away in less than a second.
Lin Songyao put down his chopsticks, his face devoid of any anger or embarrassment. Instead, he wore a humble smile. "Thank you for your advice. I was inconsiderate." He changed the subject and asked casually, "By the way, I haven't asked you yet. What year were you born?"
Song Ting handed the fish meat with the bones removed to Old Man Nan and replied, "It's the Rabbit."
"Then I should call you brother," Lin Songyao said, his smile still etched. "I'm two years younger than you." He paused, his gaze sweeping across the teahouse, which bore the marks of time. His voice was gentle yet sharp, "Since a teahouse is open for business, while heritage is certainly important, sustainable revenue must also be considered. After all, even the deepest feelings require practical support to endure."
Lin Songyao hadn't gained anything from the previous exchange, yet he still steered the conversation back to revenue. Having worked with Lin Songyao for so long, Nan Jiu knew he wasn't the type to goof off without a reason. Asking this question must have ulterior motives. Nan Jiu frowned slightly and stared at Lin Songyao.
Song Ting replied calmly, "The reason this teahouse has been able to remain open to this day isn't because of the constant patronage, but because of sixty years of consistent brewing techniques and temperature control. It's the tea grown exclusively from the thirty-seven old tea trees on Nangan Mountain, and the first spring tea ordered every year by the established tea drinkers who inhabit half the alley." He looked at Lin Songyao, his tone deep but powerful, "The revenue here isn't calculated by table turnover or average customer spending. We're not looking for quick bucks, but rather the reputation we've built over sixty years."
Lin Songyao didn't say anything else, but instead smiled intriguingly.
Nan Jiu's calm exterior began to falter slightly. She turned and said to Lin Songyao, "Stop talking and eat."
Old Man Nan's rough fingers rubbed the edge of the bowl, his eyes slowly sweeping over Song Ting. The coldness in Song Ting's body gradually receded. The atmosphere in the teahouse, which had been slightly stagnant due to the deep conversation, also began to flow again.
"Why don't you leave tonight and stay here?" asked Mr. Nan.
"No," Nanjiu replied, "We'll stay in a hotel."
Nanjiu stirred the bowl of soup in front of him silently with the spoon in his hand, and a hint of discomfort was hidden under his calm expression.
Song Ting had a certain amount of scrutiny in his heart; he wanted to see for himself what kind of man Nan Jiu would ultimately choose. Seeing Lin Songyao's shrewd, worldly-wise demeanor, his ability to quantify everything, a flicker of urgency crossed his heart, a desire to temper his sharpness and teach him that not everything in this world can be measured in terms of gains and losses.
However, when he caught a glimpse of Nan Jiu's tense profile, he couldn't bear to embarrass her between them.
During the conversation, Song Ting's phone screen on the table lit up at the right moment. He glanced down at it, went to the side to answer the call, then turned around and said to Old Man Nan, "I have something to do. I have to go out."
Song Ting glanced at Lin Songyao and nodded, "Take your time eating."
It was not until Song Ting's figure disappeared at the door of the teahouse that the invisible pressure that enveloped Nan Jiu dissipated a little with his departure.
Lin Songyao looked at Nanjiu thoughtfully.
Old Man Nan said, "I appreciate your kindness. But at my age, I can't afford to work so hard anymore. Her uncle always told me not to worry too much about the teahouse and just live it out peacefully. I'm still keeping it open to provide a place for my old neighbors to have tea, and to relieve my boredom."
Lin Songyao understood that the profitability of the teahouse had never been Song Ting's concern. He maintained the teahouse to give Old Man Nan a comfortable old age. Since that was the case, he said no more.
After dinner, Mr. Nan asked Lin Songyao to have some tea. He called Nan Jiu into the house and talked to her for a while.
The last time Nanjiu walked into this room, it was still the same. This time, the room was different; the walls and floor had been refinished.
Nan Jiu asked, "Didn't you say you didn't plan to renovate the house?"
"I don't plan to renovate it because the walls are too moldy during the rainy season. You Song...he said it's not good for your health to live there, so you just helped me with the simple renovation." Old Man Nan knocked on the lid of the teacup. Nan Jiu understood and picked up the thermos to add water to the old man.
"These rooms were built by your grandmother when she was alive. She's been gone for ages now, and I can't keep them any longer. Only the teahouse is still being maintained. By the time the teahouse can no longer be maintained, I'll be almost buried."
"Don't say that. You're in good spirits. Living to a hundred years old shouldn't be a problem."
"All of you grandchildren are going to start your own families. You have to accept your age."
Nanjiu put down the thermos and her eyes fell on the wooden carved cane. She had never seen this cane before.
Old Man Nan followed her gaze to the cane and stroked the handle: "This one is easier to use than the previous ones. Where did you buy it?"
Nan Jiu raised his eyelashes and asked, "Did Nan Qiaoyu tell you later?"
"Does he need to tell him?"
Nan Jiu lowered his eyes again: "I asked the master to make it."
Nanjiu sat on the small stool, talking to his grandfather just like he did when he was a child.
Old Man Nan picked up the teacup, took a sip of hot tea, and said, "I thought you wouldn't change your mind until you were thirty. Tell me, what made you fall in love with that boy? Is it because his family is rich?"
"Of course not." Nanjiu opened his eyes wide, "If I really want to find a rich man, there are plenty of men lined up for me to choose from, right?"
Old Man Nan scoffed at her: "You are not humble at all, why is that?"
"It's suitable." The old house was dimly lit, and Nan Jiu's curly eyelashes gently covered her eyes. "I met him while working together. We get along well and communication is easy. His family is also from Feng City, so we can usually look after each other."
Old Man Nan glanced at Nan Jiu, his tone filled with the vicissitudes of life: "This couple, their hearts are twisted. They can get along well when there are no conflicts at the moment, but there are many days to come. If something really happens, the emotional foundation is still needed to go a long way."
Nan Jiu stopped talking, his gaze fixed on the steaming teacup.
"Okay, I won't tell you more. I've become an old antique and can't understand the thoughts of you young people today. I won't go to your wedding. It would be too much for my old bones to go all the way there just to have a meal. You taking care of yourself is better than anything else. I'll see you off..."
At the entrance to the teahouse, Old Man Nan stood hunched over the threshold. Nan Jiu took a few steps and turned to look at him. Old Man Nan raised his withered hand and waved gently toward her, his cane supporting his gaunt frame like an old tree rooted in this place for decades.
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