When Shi Meng returned to his residence, he passed by the patch of marigolds in the yard and looked at them several times, but in the end, he did not take down the newly erected canopy.
It provides rain protection on cloudy days and sun protection on sunny days, serving two purposes in one. What's wrong with that?
However, when he habitually picked up the watering can, he hesitated and didn't go out to water the flowers. Adhering to a scientific and rigorous attitude, Shi Meng even used his phone to check online. The encyclopedia said that marigolds do indeed prefer dry conditions and dislike dampness, so he naturally told himself that this choice was for the flowers to grow well and had nothing to do with anything else.
After quickly preparing a simple lunch, Shi Meng sat down in front of his easel.
Teacher Ma had already registered Shi Meng for the painting competition on her behalf. Since the theme was portrait painting, Shi Meng spent a long time sketching on the drawing board with a charcoal pencil, but still couldn't decide what to draw.
He's not good at drawing portraits, and even has a natural aversion to it. I discussed this issue with Teacher Ma via email before, and Teacher Ma suggested that he try drawing ordinary working people around him, to capture their most authentic appearance, since the simpler things are, the easier they are to move people.
So Shi Meng began searching her memory for people she had recently seen. Pan Jiawei had just gotten two ear piercings, which didn't fit the image of someone who was simple and unpretentious at all; Aunt Pan had just gotten her hair permed, so she needed to observe her carefully before writing anything down; Mr. Wei, whom she had met yesterday, acted and behaved like a capitalist, not a working-class person; the breakfast stall owner was busy repairing glass and hadn't opened this morning; and the one she had seen at the police station this morning…
The pen paused, drawing a crooked arc on the paper. Shi Meng took a deep breath and put down the pen.
He told himself that he must not have done enough rehabilitation and his hands were still unsteady. Besides, it was just these people coming and going around him, so it was normal for him to think of him.
Thinking this, he took out a rubber band from his pocket and recalled what the doctor had taught him yesterday: to stretch his thumb and other four fingers back and forth as a rehabilitation exercise.
From index finger to little finger, after completing one round trip, just as I was about to start over, a loud bang came from outside, the sound of the iron gate being pushed open.
Following the sound, Shi Meng went outside and saw a person standing at the door carrying large and small bags. She subconsciously blinked, as if unsure if she was seeing things.
The newcomer was also not very calm; her clenched fists betrayed her nervousness.
The two stared at each other for a while before Li Bihan broke the silence, saying gently, "I had some free time today, so I thought I'd just bring the things over. I was planning to drop them off and leave, but I didn't expect the iron gate to be unlocked..."
Following her gaze, Shi Meng looked at the iron gate.
Although it was locked, he usually just pulled it when he came back, regardless of whether it was closed or not, since there was another door inside anyway.
Shi Meng simply said "Oh," and since he had never dealt with this situation before, he could only say dryly, as if he were receiving a guest, "Would you like to come in and have a cup of tea?"
They were still drinking the flower tea that Li Bihan had sent.
These past two days, we've had many visitors, so Shi Meng simply placed the small porcelain bowl filled with tea directly on the table.
Seeing that her gift had been used properly, Li Bihan smiled, picked up the cup, took a sip, and asked Shi Meng, "This flower tea wasn't dried very well, so the taste is a bit weak. Do you like it?"
Shi Meng made himself a cup as well. Hearing this, he lifted his face from the cup and nodded, "Mm."
He thought that since he had accepted the gift, he couldn't turn the person away. Although no one had taught him this kind of manners since he was a child, he still understood it.
Li Bihan then brought up the flowers planted in the yard: "Are these flower buds from the seeds I sent you? It's good that you planted them early; they should bloom next spring."
These words inexplicably reminded Shi Meng of the few rose stems he had uprooted. If they had taken root and survived, would they have bloomed next spring?
After finishing her tea, Li Bihan stood up and said, "I brought a lot of things this time, let me help you take them to the kitchen to sort them."
Shi Meng followed her in and watched as she took out a series of exquisite lunch boxes from a bag that was much larger than the insulated bag that the person had brought last time. Some were transparent, and some were printed with little rabbit patterns, just like the ones on the windowsill.
"This is beef sauce, a new recipe that your Aunt Fang and I researched... This is grapefruit tea, something I just whipped up myself. Try it, and if you don't like it, just throw it away... This is Chinese sausage. When I don't have time to cook, I just steam it in a pot with rice. Once it's cooked, I slice it and eat it. Remember to slice it slowly, be careful not to burn yourself..."
Li Bihan pushed the bottles and jars in front of Shi Meng while explaining them in as much detail as possible. However, Shi Meng's attention was not on the food, but on Li Bihan's hands.
These hands, once pampered and sheltered from the elements, now bear the marks of time with fine lines and even a few tiny cuts, as if they had been accidentally scratched while chopping vegetables.
Even in this state, he still knitted a new pair of gloves for Shi Meng.
This time it's a five-finger version, with extra thickness added to the palm of the right hand. Li Bihan explained, "Winter is coming, and hands shouldn't get cold, especially affected areas. This one is more convenient to wear at home."
Shi Meng took the gloves; they felt very soft, and the stitching was much neater than the last pair. After looking at them for a while, he looked up and asked, "And what about yours?"
Li Bihan was taken aback at first, but when she realized what was happening, she realized that the person asking was her hand. Her red fingertips trembled slightly, and she quickly said, "I'm fine. I came by car. I can't stand the cold. Don't worry."
Only after saying that did he realize that Shi Meng might have just asked casually and didn't mean to be worried.
Since this was the first time Shi Meng had spoken to her since the incident, Li Bihan was still overwhelmed with joy and didn't know what to do with her hands and feet. She tentatively suggested to Shi Meng, "I also brought some fresh pork bones. Shall I make you some soup? I'll just borrow the kitchen for a while. You go about your business, I won't bother you."
It wasn't until she returned to the balcony and sat in front of the easel that Shi Meng realized what she had agreed to.
He felt a little regretful, but not because he was afraid to hand over the kitchen to Li Bihan. He was afraid that if it happened once, it would happen again, and once she got used to it, it would be difficult to break away. It was the same principle as boiling a frog in lukewarm water.
Shi Meng picked up a charcoal pencil and drew a squatting frog on the paper.
The canvas was Shi Meng's safe zone, so he drew for a while and his restless heart calmed down.
The frog was finished, but it lacked a background, so Shi Meng used a brush to place a lotus leaf underneath.
Lotus leaf, lotus flower, 菡 means lotus flower. As if guided by something, Shi Meng's gaze drifted towards the kitchen doorway again.
From this angle, you can see Li Bihan standing in front of the kitchen counter, her head down, preparing ingredients. The setting sun casts a halo around her, making her look soft and gentle. Her slightly hunched shoulders are the marks of time.
Her thick, black hair was tied up and draped over one shoulder. The crisp coat accentuated her slender and tall figure, reminding Shi Meng of someone who had complimented his good proportions and said he looked like a celebrity, and even speculated that his mother must be very beautiful.
Mother……
This title, which rarely appears in Shi Meng's mind, has a powerful effect.
Without thinking, Shi Meng laid a new sheet of paper on the drawing board, held a charcoal pencil, and while looking at the drawing, he sketched the scene reflected in his pupils on the paper.
Pork bones are not easy to stew until tender, and Li Bihan was so busy that it was dark by the time she finished.
When she came out, she saw Shi Meng raising her hand to cover her drawing board. She smiled and said, "Don't be afraid, I won't peek." Then she pointed to the kitchen, "The soup is ready, would you like to try some?"
Out of respect for the fruits of others' labor, Shi Meng accepted the steaming bowl and took a bite.
Faced with Li Bihan's expectant gaze, he nodded, silently giving his approval.
Her initial trepidation vanished, and Li Bihan finally smiled from the bottom of her heart, her eyes sparkling with joy.
While eager to get closer to Shi Meng, she also knew the principle of moderation. After Shi Meng finished a bowl of soup, she got up, took off her apron, and prepared to leave.
Before leaving, he gave a few instructions such as "Be careful when you live alone" and "Drink more hot water and don't eat cold food." His steps toward the door gradually slowed down due to hesitation.
Shi Meng escorted her to the door. Seeing that she seemed to have something to say, he didn't urge her but just stood there silently without saying a word.
As the door opened and the cool breeze blew in, Li Bihan finally made up her mind. She pulled a piece of clothing from her still bulging bag after taking out many things, turned around, tiptoed slightly, and draped it over her body.
"I bought the down jacket a while ago, but I was worried about the shipping." She said, "Your birthday is in a couple of days, and the lawsuit over there is at a critical stage, so I might not be able to come over. I'll just bring you the gift first."
Shi Meng didn't pay much attention to what he was hearing. He just felt a warmth on his body and then smelled that familiar citrus scent, the same scent that Li Bihan often had.
What he once longed for and envied is now so close to him, so close that it's within reach, yet he doesn't know how to respond. He stands there dumbfounded, letting the thick clothes wrap him up tightly.
The size is just right, and there's still room to wear an undershirt underneath. Li Bihan patted Shi Meng's shoulder, then took two steps back to admire her, her eyes crinkling with laughter: "Our Mengmeng looks good in anything."
My heart skipped a beat; it was a more intense feeling of certainty than when I received the letter.
This made Shi Meng somewhat flustered, and he even forgot to say thank you. Li Bihan, on the other hand, saw his helpless look and for some reason her eyes reddened.
"Our Mengmeng deserves the best things in the world."
She reached out and straightened Shi Meng's collar, afraid that he would feel burdened, and choked back tears as she said, "This is not compensation, but returning what is rightfully yours."
Later that evening, Shi Meng pulled a letter out of his pocket.
People often use words to express things that are difficult to say directly, and Li Bihan is no exception.
In her letter, she wrote: "I regret treating you badly in the past. If you still blame me, then ignore me or scold me. If you don't blame me, then don't forgive me easily. Let me do more for you."
After reading it, Shi Meng let out a breath and said silently, "I have never blamed you."
He was willful and stubborn, but not unreasonable. Especially after experiencing life and death, he felt that everyone has difficulties and will make mistakes. If you always dwell on the past, life will be too difficult.
But letting go is not the same as accepting. Letting go does not require courage, but accepting requires much more, much more than when you first picked it up. Shi Meng had already run out of strength and could not pick it up, so he could only stay there dejectedly.
Similarly, after calming down, Shi Meng realized that she had not blamed Fu Xuanliao.
He was forced into a desperate situation, and his army collapsed like a house of cards. In desperation, he resorted to attack instead of defense, in order to make himself look less pathetic and not always be led around by him.
Once the impulse triggered by the passive attack subsided, Shi Meng began to frequently visit the breakfast shop to assist the proprietress in investigating the thief's whereabouts.
Actually, no assistance was needed. There were only so many people coming and going in this area. The proprietress took advantage of the business being closed and hid in the shadows to observe for a while, and she caught some clues.
As usual, Shi Meng went to inquire about the situation that day. From afar, he could hear the child wailing and the landlady's loud cursing.
Upon closer inspection, it became clear that the person being beaten was the proprietress's youngest son.
This boy is the youngest child of the owner and his wife, and the whole family dotes on him. It is said that the filling of the meat buns in the shop is made according to his picky taste, and the buns have become a famous brand. Whether customers are eating noodles or wontons, they always order a basket of buns to go with them.
When Shi Meng arrived, the proprietress temporarily stopped, picked the child up from the bench and brought him to her, saying apologetically, "I'm so sorry, great painter, this naughty child has caused trouble, and your friend has taken the blame."
The child wanted to buy a toy, but his parents thought it was too expensive and wouldn't let him. He remembered that his family's shop received a lot of money every morning, so he decided to steal it.
As for why he stole the painting along with the artwork, the mischievous child felt quite aggrieved: "The painting was so realistic that I wanted to copy it. I climbed onto the stool and just as I took it down, I knocked over the table... and accidentally broke the window."
Shi Meng then understood why the thief could come and go so easily and disappear without a trace; it turned out that it was one of his own family members who committed the crime.
Shi Meng unfolded the drawing paper that the children had folded into squares and hung it back on the wall. She also helped the shop owner install surveillance cameras in the store.
Finally, the owner and his wife thanked him profusely and saw him off, leaving him with a thick stack of breakfast vouchers.
Shi Meng felt it was too much, more than he could eat in a year. The proprietress smiled, revealing two dimples, and said generously, "Bring your friend here to eat? This is a good opportunity for me to apologize to him."
This is something that Meng Zi would not actively convey.
Hearing that the police had already come and, in addition to educating the children, informed them that the person had been released, Shi Meng went home reassured.
The neighbors were still discussing the matter endlessly, but Shi Meng ignored it all. When Aunt Pan came to gossip, he only vaguely said it was a misunderstanding.
"It's good that it was a misunderstanding." Aunt Pan said while eating sunflower seeds. "That police station detention room is no place for a human being. I heard there's no food or water there, not even a hard bed. If you stay there a few more days in this weather, you'll definitely get sick."
It wasn't until evening, when Shi Meng heard the sound of rain and went downstairs to close the window, that she heard the iron gate clanging. She went out to lock it, but someone who had been lying in wait in the corner suddenly rushed out and hugged her from behind. Only then did she have a general idea of what had happened and how she had "gotten sick from all the trouble."
The instant she was embraced, Shi Meng recognized her by her breath and instinctively breathed a sigh of relief before struggling.
"Don't move, don't move." Fu Xuanliao seemed extremely tired, his voice hoarse as if he had a handful of sand in his mouth. "Just like this, let me hold you for a while, just a little while."
Shi Meng wasn't sure how long he meant by "a while"—whether it was a second or a minute—so she ignored him, pried his arms off with both hands, pushed him back, leaned forward, and escaped his embrace.
Fu Xuanliao not only couldn't muster the strength to hold Shi Meng tightly, but was also pushed backward, almost falling if it weren't for the railing behind him.
By the light coming from inside the room, Shi Meng could see his dejected face and his figure, which had become noticeably thinner in just a few days.
It was so cold, yet he was still wearing that thin clothing, and the warm breath he exhaled became intermittent and thin.
As if everything Aunt Pan had said had been confirmed, Shi Meng, after observing the situation, asked, for reasons unknown, "Isn't there any food in there?"
Fu Xuanliao slowly straightened up, supporting himself against the wall. He was taken aback when he heard the question, then smiled slightly.
"You care about me?" he asked first, then looked at Shi Meng and confirmed, "You care about me."
"I knew it."
The familiar embrace from behind, the familiar scene and words, made Shi Meng feel as if she had been transported back to Christmas Eve ten years ago.
This person, with the same gritted teeth and a tone tinged with grievance, said to him, "I knew it... you like me too."
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