fireworks
In late January, the chill of December, wrapped in the sweet aroma of roasted chestnuts, swept through the bluestone streets. Beneath the neon lights of department stores, people carrying bags of New Year's goods jostle shoulder to shoulder. Children clutching candied haws (candied haws) dart through the crowd. Loudspeakers from shops along the street blare "Congratulations and Prosperity" on a loop. The relentless shouting of vendors in the wet market is ear-piercing. Fresh hairtail fish gleams silvery on the ice, and the glowing red lanterns paint the entire street like a flowing sunset glow.
Gu Zhengfeng stood at the kitchen chopping board, rolling the rolling pin back and forth with his knuckles. The chopping board was dusted with white flour, like a thin layer of snow, and the flour grains clung to his newly changed dark blue apron, like specks of frost. The alcohol rehabilitation manual his psychiatrist had given him three months earlier was still pressed beneath the glass on the coffee table. With deft movements of his wrist, he rolled the dough into a round, slightly thinner-edged skin, his movements more deft than those used to filleting fish.
"Dad, pinch the folds tighter." Gu Songyi squatted on a low stool, clumsily moving the filling toward the center of the dumpling wrapper. Flour stained the boy's eyelashes, and the tip of his nose was smeared with white ash, like a kitten that had drunk milk. Gu Zhengfeng smiled and wiped the powder off his son's nose with his fingertips. These hands, trembling with the pain that had shattered countless wine cups, could now steadily hold his son's crooked dumplings and carefully place them on a bamboo tray covered with a damp cloth.
The kitchen door curtain suddenly opened, and a chilly breeze blew in a few tiny snowflakes. Gu Hanzhi stood at the door, clutching a freshly filled hot water bottle. She looked at the neatly arranged crescent dumplings on the chopping board, and the flour on the noses of the father and son, and her eyes suddenly felt warm.
On New Year's Eve last year, the shards of broken wine bottles were still flashing coldly in the cracks between the tiles. Now the steaming water vapor has blurred the glass windows, and the dough on the chopping board is wrapped in plastic wrap, quietly waiting for the next round of rolling.
"Let's cook some first?" Gu Zhengfeng added water to the pot, the red prayer bracelet on his wrist swaying gently—it was the amulet Su Wanqing had prayed for at the City God Temple. Fine drops of water gradually emerged from the edge of the pot lid. Gu Songyi tiptoed to sprinkle chopped green onions into the pot, while Gu Hanzhi arranged the vinegar dishes in a neat arc. As the first batch of dumplings floated up, firecrackers exploded outside the window. In the rising white mist, the clinking of three porcelain spoons clashed together, like a prelude to the new year.
In the afternoon, the sound of firecrackers rippled through the streets, the crisp, resonant sound carrying the scent of sulfur across the rooftops. Curls of smoke rose, and crimson confetti covered the bluestone pavement like fallen petals. The air was thick with the choking smoke, yet it also intensified the festive spirit. This continuous sound intensified the rich flavor of the New Year.
Gu Hanzhi leaned against the carved window frame and watched the children at the alley chasing each other while holding candied haws. The rock sugar reflected the crystal clear edges in the sunlight, just like the mint candy that Shen Zhihe often handed to her in her memory.
Suddenly, a dark blue silhouette streaked across the snow. Gu Hanzhi's fingers gripped the window frame, her nails leaving crescent-shaped white marks on the wood. The figure, wrapped in a black cashmere scarf, stood beneath the icicle-covered wall of the Gu family's old house, looking up in her direction.
Her skirt brushed the cool tile floor, and she practically stumbled towards her wardrobe. Her moon-white dress, a cold fragrance in the deep winter air, had been specially prepared for this day. The lily-of-the-valley buds embroidered around her waist trembled slightly with her rapid breaths. The red rose hairpin in her hair suddenly fell to the ground. She quickly picked it up. The metal petals still carried his body temperature—they had been a gift from Shen Zhihe. Now, they shone brightly against her temples, making the eyes of the person in the mirror water.
New Year's fireworks exploded in the night sky, their last bursts of golden red. Gu Hanzhi ran downstairs through the snow, her plush scarf lifted and swayed by the wind. As she reached the bottom of the building, she saw a tall figure under the streetlight—Shen Zhihe, wrapped in a dark gray coat, shaking the snow off his shoulders, his watch gleaming coldly in the night.
The moment their eyes met, Gu Hanzhi suddenly panicked. The snow slipped on her shoes, and as she tilted, she was supported by a warmth. Shen Zhihe's coat wrapped around her trembling back, and the scent of snow mixed with sandalwood blew against her face. She heard his slightly panting chuckle in her ear: "Why, are you more excited to see me than fireworks?"
As she tilted her head back, she met his smiling eyes, their eyelashes still stained with tiny particles of snow. The "Happy New Year" song playing on repeat at the convenience store downstairs suddenly became deafening, and in the distance, new fireworks soared into the sky, painting the outline of his face a gentle crimson.
"Why are you here?" she blurted out. "Shouldn't you be having a reunion dinner with your family?"
Shen Zhihe lowered his eyes, frost flakes falling from his eyelashes. Moonlight passed over his pale lips, as if all the coldness of the cold night was condensed in his eyes.
Gu Hanzhi suddenly thought of the Shen family's magnificent courtyard and the vicious stepmother Shen Zhihe had mentioned. She hurriedly said, "Sorry, I meant..."
"That kind of home," Shen Zhihe suddenly chuckled, his voice colder than the icicles on the eaves. "There's no reunion at all." He looked at Gu Hanzhi. "But you..." He paused, his Adam's apple moving. "Would you like to set off fireworks with me?"
"Is this okay? Won't this affect you?" She looked up at the boy's chiseled profile, her heartbeat mingling with the distant cheers of the countdown, exploding in her chest. Shen Zhihe lowered his head and smiled, his Adam's apple rolling beneath his sweater. His bony hand had already naturally slipped through her fingers, the warmth of his palm spreading up through their clasped hands.
"If we're any later, there won't be fireworks vendors and such a beautiful view." His voice was wrapped in white mist, the tail sound like frosting crumbed by the winter wind. Gu Hanzhi stared at their interlocked hands and suddenly remembered that when she fell in her freshman year of high school, it was those same hands that carried her through the crowd and carried her to the infirmary.
"But I was in a hurry to go downstairs and didn't bring any money." She tried to find a topic in a panic, but saw Shen Zhihe took out a large amount of money from the inner pocket of his coat. The cold light reflected by the metal zipper made her squint.
"I'm not asking you to pay." The boy pressed the money into her palm, his eyelashes casting tiny shadows on his eyes as he lowered his head. "Just consider it my New Year's gift—after all," he paused, then suddenly leaned in close so she could smell the scent of fireworks, "how can you let a girl pay?"
The countdown had just reached the last three seconds, and the golden and red fireworks exploding in the sky illuminated the burning smile in the boy's eyes. Gu Hanzhi's hand holding the red envelope trembled slightly, and she suddenly felt that the snow this winter was not as scorching as the one falling on her heart at this moment.
Arriving on the street, Gu Hanzhi squatted in front of a stall, selecting sparklers, her fingertips darting through the shimmering wrapping paper. The moment she lit the sparkler, silvery sparks flew like stardust, illuminating the corners of her eyes with golden hues, and the smile on her lips was sweeter than the fireworks.
Shen Zhihe looked at the pink scarf around the girl's neck, which was wrapped around her fluffy hair. Her moon-white dress trembled gently in the flickering fireworks, like a egret perched on a branch.
His Adam's apple rolled unconsciously, the tips of his ears turned slightly red, and even the white mist he exhaled when he spoke was filled with panic: "Be careful not to get sparks on your scarf." But his eyes were stubbornly glued to her profile, which was illuminated by the firelight, and his heartbeat made his chest hot.
Shen Zhihe pulled out his phone and tapped the shutter button as the setting sun slanted over Gu Hanzhi's shoulders. She raised her hand to her forehead, her hair lifted by the wind, and her gilded eyelashes trembled slightly in the backlight. "Take a good-looking picture of me."
The phone made a soft click. Shen Zhihe lowered his eyes and scrolled across the screen, handing the photo over. The cold light from the screen made Gu Hanzhi's pupils sparkle. The girl in the photo was smiling, the cinnabar mole at the corner of her eye more radiant than her rouge, reminiscent of Juliet.
"Why didn't I realize you were such a good photographer before?" Her fingertips unconsciously rubbed the edge of the phone, the corner of her mouth curled up sweeter than a magnolia in spring. "I should have asked you to take more pictures earlier."
Shen Zhihe lowered his eyes and deleted the other nine useless photos in the album, then casually put the phone back into his pocket: "Maybe you are just good-looking." There was a faint warmth on his fingertips from when he pressed the shutter, like the touch of Gu Hanzhi's hair brushing against the back of his hand when she leaned over.
Gu Hanzhi looked at Shen Zhihe, and when she turned around, there was a cunning light in her eyes: "Shen Zhihe, why are you blushing." She reached out to poke his hot ear, but he grabbed her wrist the moment she touched it, and all that was left was their intertwined breaths.
As the sky darkened, the two figures receded, the dazzling glow of fireworks flickering behind them. Shen Zhihe turned back to watch the girl disappear into the alleyway, tucked the undelivered roasted chestnuts back into his arms. With the New Year's bell ringing, this chance encounter might quietly write a new chapter on some ordinary morning, a glance reunited on a street corner.
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