Chapter 27
"Clean up the house!" Seeing the piles of things filling the yard, he placed the fruit in his hand on the coffee table. He casually glanced through the window at the items displayed. Suddenly, his gaze fixed, and he walked over in two or three steps, squatting in front of the gramophone. "Isn't this the British imported gramophone I mentioned last time? Did you find it?"
Xiao Xiao took a look and said, "Just moved out."
The dark brown walnut phonograph shimmered slightly in the sunlight, its varnish gleaming slightly.
Liu Guoxing was excited and looked at the phonograph that had not been wiped clean on the low cabinet for a long time. His fingers touched the two metal buttons on the surface and he turned the turntable slightly. "It's really beautiful. Look at these keys and this tonearm."
Touching the dust on the record, Liu Guoxing frowned distressedly, "Such a good thing, look at what she has ruined it into."
Xiao Xiao paused wiping her things for a moment, looked up and asked, "What's wrong?"
"It's really hard for her to be with you," Liu Guoxing said, and walked back to the living room.
Yang Ye had just closed the door to the study when he saw him pacing around in the living room. "What are you looking for?"
Liu Guoxing glanced at Yang Ye with a reproachful look, "Looking for a handkerchief to clean your phonograph?"
Yang Ye didn't care at all, "Doesn't Xiao Xiao have a piece of dry stuff?"
He rarely frowned at Yang Ye, "How can you wipe with such a rough towel? Is there a softer one, like the pure cotton one?"
Yang Ye walked into the kitchen, opened the storage drawer next to the refrigerator, and took out a cotton towel that had not been opened yet. "Is this okay? I bought it but haven't used it yet."
Liu Guoxing followed, his suspicious eyes fixed on the white cloth Yang Ye had just taken out. He rubbed his fingers over the surface of the cloth, feeling the delicate touch. He took it and said to Yang Ye before leaving, "It's better to use this cloth to wipe it."
"Why are there so many problems?" Yang Ye muttered.
Taking the phonograph down from the low cabinet, Liu Guoxing found a relatively empty space. He squatted in front of the phonograph and carefully wiped off the dust on the surface. As he wiped, he said, "Delicate items like this need to be maintained with special cleaning fluids and care oils."
Pinching a tiny corner with two fingers, he leaned closer to the grooves on the surface of the phonograph. A thick layer of dust rose from the clean cotton cloth.
He showed Yang Ye the dust on the cotton cloth and said, "Look, it's so dirty."
"It's been there for decades, so isn't it normal for it to be a little dusty?"
"I've told you that the things in your room should be taken out and cleaned up once or twice every few years, but you insist on not using them. Porcelain bottles and ancient books like these don't even have decent covers." Liu Guoxing said as he carefully wiped the dust off the phonograph. Suddenly, he thought of something and turned around with difficulty. "Hey, why did you think of taking them out today?"
Yang Ye stood there, expressionless, "On a whim"
"What a sudden impulse!" He continued polishing the phonograph. "Where are all those records?"
"I don't know." Yang Ye was still standing there, wondering where to put the porcelain bowls in front of him. He said casually, "They are probably still in the cabinet. There are none outside, so they can only be inside."
Liu Guoxing's eyes lit up and he stood up from where he was standing. "Really? Don't lie to me!"
Yang Ye put one hand on his waist, thinking about the key point, but he was not in the mood to joke with him, "Why don't you go to the warehouse and look for it?"
He didn't even finish listening to the words, and ran into the house impatiently, even his steps became brisk.
There was no right way to place the porcelain bowls. Three stacked together would be too high, and the low cabinet wouldn't fit. But if they were placed on top, it would take up too much space. Yang Ye was pondering this when Zhou Yi, holding the porcelain vase he had just brought in, noticed where Yang Ye was standing and whispered, "Boss, the record doesn't seem to be in that room anymore."
When he first moved cabinets in the room, he looked through almost all the cabinets that could be opened, but they were all filled with small ornaments or cups, and he didn't see any records.
"It's okay, just let him find it." Yang Ye pulled off the apron that was slightly displaced around his waist. Just as he was about to squat down, he saw the old man who came in with Liu Guoxing standing in the room, a little at a loss.
Zhou Yiheng leaned over and whispered to Xiao Xiao, "Are you going to look for it now?"
Xiao Xiao said: "Professor Liu likes this kind of thing. He asked the boss several times before, but the boss didn't give it to him. This time, with just a few records, he will definitely go."
Yang Ye untied her apron and walked into the living room.
Stand opposite him, extend your hand, and say, "Hello."
His light gray-blue Mao suit, though made of aged fabric, still held its shape and firmness. His hair, now gray, was neatly combed back. He wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes gentle behind the lenses, just like him, gentle and refined, with a smile on his face.
It was like a spring breeze, but I could also sense the obvious fatigue hidden in his eyes.
"Hello." He also extended his hand.
The handshake involved the schoolbag he was carrying in front of him. The schoolbag was bulging and seemed to contain something large.
He lifted the slightly slipping backpack strap onto his shoulder, lowered his head, and saw the zipper was tightly closed. The tension in his eyes faded a little. He took a deep breath and let it out silently.
"Professor Liu brought me here to see Boss Yang," he said in a low voice, speaking slowly and steadily.
Yang Ye nodded, "I am"
"Hello, Boss Yang." He smiled politely and nodded to Yang Ye.
The moment their eyes met, it seemed as if time had passed in this brief encounter.
"Let's go have a cup of tea," said Yang Ye.
He hesitated for a moment, then turned around and saw Liu Guoxing holding something wrapped in old newspaper and walking excitedly into the yard.
"Professor Liu," he called out, but Liu Guoxing probably didn't hear him.
"What is this, what is this?" He walked to the yard excitedly, picked up the white cloth on the phonograph, put down the thing he had just found in his arms, and pulled off the sealing tape on it with force.
He squatted slightly, his shoulders shrugged, and his entire upper body was shaking. Yang Ye smiled awkwardly and explained, "He might not have heard it."
"It's okay," said the old man.
"Then let's go and take a look first." Yang Ye raised his hand and motioned the old man to go with him.
He wiped the phonograph carefully with the white handkerchief a few more times, then turned on the phonograph that had been put away. Liu Guoxing said to himself, "I wonder if this old guy can still play."
Xiao Xiao came over and said, "It can't be done anymore, it's been so long."
"Try it?" Liu Guoxing said, his eyes full of anticipation.
There was a series of "clicking" sounds, and the stiff sound of old parts being forcibly awakened from the inside of the phonograph, followed by a vague rustling and the muffled sound of gears being stuck. The sound disappeared for a while, and no sound could be heard from the speaker.
Xiao Xiao, who was standing next to him, saw the phonograph had stopped and said, "The record is not playing, it must be broken."
"Wait a little longer." Liu Guoxing didn't believe it and stared at the phonograph carefully.
The record platter was stuck, and the thin pointer was still shaking slightly, making a brief crackling sound, just like fingernails accidentally scratching across the concrete floor, bringing out the weird sound that makes one's hair stand on end.
His brows furrowed in furrows. Just as his face was filled with worry, thinking his newly found joy was about to be dashed, a rich, aged voice suddenly emerged from the brass speaker. The powerful voice carried a uniquely ancient air, each word resonating like the sound of knocking on a sandalwood table, carrying the allure of an old Beijing opera house.
Hearing the sound, Yang Ye was also surprised. He walked over and saw that the record was spinning well. "This is still usable?"
"Of course it can be used. Look at this record of yours. It's been scratched all over."
The scratch almost went through the entire surface of the plate, and Liu Guoxing stroked it back and forth with heartache.
The old man looked at it and said: "It should be usable after applying some pine oil."
Looking up at the old man, Liu Guoxing slapped his head, as if he suddenly realized something. He stood up from the ground in a hurry and said to the old man with an apologetic look: "I'm sorry, I almost forgot something."
He glanced at the old man, then at Yang Ye, and said sheepishly, "Are you still collecting things now?"
Yang Ye paused and saw the bulging schoolbag on the old man's back. After a long silence, he looked back and forth at the old man.
She made way and said, "Let's go inside and talk."
A set of emerald green tea set was placed on the rectangular old elm dining table.
Several people sat down at the wooden table. Yang Ye took the set of teacups and heated the kettle next to it. While waiting for the water to boil, she brought a box of tea leaves from the kitchen. As the water boiled, she skillfully filtered the water and poured the tea. The steaming aroma of tea filled the entire room.
"Boss Yang, I..." The old man wanted to unzip his schoolbag, but Liu Guoxing stopped him.
The clear tea was poured into smaller teacups. Yang Ye took two cups and handed them to them. "Try this tea. Although it's from last year, I feel that it tastes no worse than this year's new tea."
Liu Guoxing picked up the teacup, sniffed the tea, took a sip, nodded, and praised, "Well, it tastes fresh."
"You too," she said, raising her hand to the old man.
The old man took the teacup that had been heated by hot water and was still warm. "The tea tastes really refreshing, and it seems to have a hint of jasmine?"
"It was placed together with the jasmine tea bag earlier, so the flavor might have been tainted a bit," Yang Ye said. Seeing that they had finished their cups of tea, she put down the tea set in her hand and said, "Tell me, what good stuff do you have?"
Liu Guoxing glanced at the old man, who seemed to have received a reminder. He hurriedly opened his schoolbag and carefully took out the porcelain vase from it.
"The rule that you have to drink a cup of tea before talking about things when you enter the door has not changed until now," said Liu Guoxing.
“A cup of tea upon entering the door is the minimum respect”
"Your rules are always the same."
“There aren’t many things that can be left behind, and rules are one of them.”
Seeing the blue and white porcelain vase that had been placed on the table, Liu Guoxing raised his hand and said, "Take a look at it."
Yang Ye, half-believing, retrieved a pair of unopened gloves from the house. She stood before a blue-and-white porcelain vase, about a foot tall, its neck curved gently and smoothly, a natural curve. The blue-and-white ware depicted lush bamboo, supplemented by banana leaves, honeysuckle, and distorted, auspicious clouds. The delicate brushstrokes defined the distinct patterns. The inner circle was glazed with white, and the bottom bore the six-character inscription, "Made in the Xianfeng Period of the Great Qing," written in ink in regular script.
Originally, she was just observing and curious, but the moment those blurry words caught her eye, Yang Ye's pupils suddenly shrank, like a calm lake shattered by a sudden pebble, spreading out from the center and creating ripples. Her lips unconsciously pursed her calm face, and her gaze became sharp.
She put down the porcelain vase and looked at the old man opposite her. "I won't accept this."
"Why?" Liu Guoxing asked.
"Forget it." The old man didn't have much hope. He supported himself on the table and slowly stood up. He silently put the blue and white porcelain vase into his schoolbag. There was a bit of loss in his eyes. His movements were slow. Every step seemed so heavy and helpless. It seemed that what was put into the schoolbag was not only a porcelain vase, but also his last remaining hope.
Liu Guoxing was still sitting there, and just asked Yang Ye, "If you don't want to buy it, at least give me an estimate of the price, so that I can find someone else."
"I can't estimate the value of this thing," Yang Ye said directly, "I advise you not to sell it. You know its origin better than I do."
The old man hunched his back and moved his feet, causing the wooden boards beneath him to creak slightly.
He said: "No matter how good the thing is, it is just a thing. If you don't take it with you, you can't take it away. Selling it can at least save my lover's life."
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