Chapter 42
After the Winter Solstice, the remaining days of the year pass by extremely quickly.
In the cold twelfth month of winter, the sky is always overcast. The clouds are low, almost pressing down on the roofs of the tall buildings in the distance. The air is filled with the damp chill unique to the south wind, which quietly seeps into the collar, making people shrink their necks.
That day, Zhou Yiheng brought a cup of milk tea to Yang Ye and Xiao Xiao when he came to work. He said that this was the first cup of milk tea in winter, which has been a very popular term on the Internet recently.
While drinking milk tea, Xiao Xiao talked about hot pot. So at noon, in the yard of the grocery store, Xiao Xiao called Xu Jingzhe, who had just finished his night shift, and Liu Guoxing, who had no classes in the afternoon, and the five of them sat in the yard to cook hot pot together.
While waiting for the pot to boil, Liu Guoxing mentioned that he had met with Fang Zhiyang two days ago. He had already sold his old house, and with the money from the porcelain vase, he had paid off his debt and had some money left for his unborn grandson. With the rest, he planned to take Ye Miaoshu to Xinjiang. If they had time, they would also like to go to Tibet and Yunnan.
"I don't know how much time she has left, and the doctor hasn't given us a clear answer. I just want to take her out while she's still conscious to see places she's wanted to go to for so many years, places we've talked about for so many years but never got to. I don't want to regret it one day because of these things we didn't do, and let her die with regrets."
The rising steam from the open pot briefly blurred Yang Ye's vision. Any further words he wanted to say were interrupted by Zhou Yiheng's chopsticks picking up the mutton.
Seeing the extra, still-cooked mutton in the bowl, Yang Ye raised his eyes, and happened to meet Zhou Yiheng's gaze, which he hadn't had time to look away from. Their eyes met, and Zhou Yiheng's lips curled up slightly, revealing a perfectly normal smile, without saying anything.
Liu Guoxing, who was sitting nearby, saw the two interacting, his eyes wandering between them. He noticed Zhou Yiheng's ears were a little red, but he still wanted to pretend nothing had happened. He leaned forward, leaned close to Yang Ye's ear, and whispered in a voice that only the two of them could hear: "He likes you."
Not a question, but an affirmation.
Yang Ye turned her head and looked at Liu Guoxing with indescribable emotions in her eyes.
She retorted, "What nonsense are you talking about?"
Liu Guoxing said: "Don't say you don't feel anything at all"
Yang Ye looked at the man sitting across from her, talking to Xu Jingzhe. They seemed to be discussing something amusing, both laughing. Seeing his lively smile, Yang Ye was unconsciously drawn in, her lips curved. She froze for a moment, silent, and lowered her head to eat the now-cold mutton.
“He’s so young.”
He took the meatballs and meat out of the pot and placed them in the dipping sauce to cool. Liu Guoxing looked at Zhou Yiheng's profile and couldn't help but sigh, "They look so much like him."
Yang Ye asked: "How is it similar?"
Liu Guoxing said: "The eyes, nose, and mouth are all carved exactly the same."
Yang Ye smiled and asked: "You haven't really met him, yet you speak so frankly?"
"Those photos in your study, if you change the clothes and background, they will look like now, right?"
Looking at the boiling hot pot in front of him, Yang Ye murmured, "Why do you all keep mentioning him? I really don't understand. What's so good about him?"
"If I don't know him, I don't know you either. Would you like him if he wasn't good?" Liu Guoxing knocked Yang Ye's arm down and said with a smile, "You've been thinking about him for so many years, isn't it because he's good?"
"Who said I was thinking about him?" Yang Ye said softly.
Because he is good and you like him, we all want to help you remember him.
Suddenly, a strange thought flashed through his mind, and he bumped into Yang Ye a few more times, "Do you think this is his reincarnation?"
Yang Ye had just picked up the vegetables and was about to put them in the pot when she heard Liu Guoxing's words. She paused and looked sideways at him, "You've watched too many science fiction movies. Where's the reincarnation thing?"
"Isn't it true?" Liu Guoxing muttered to himself.
"Really?" Yang Ye said.
But her eyes slowly drooped, the corners of her mouth twitched, and she forced a smile.
Master Chu Fang had said long ago that Xue Shangyang would not be reincarnated. He used the rest of his life and the curse that there would be no next life to beg God for hope that she could live.
How could such a person be reincarnated?
February 31
It happened to be a weekend.
Xu Jingzhe's job was unusual, so he didn't usually have much time off. This time, he'd had to work several shifts to find the time. So Xiao Xiao and Xu Jingzhe went home a week early to discuss their wedding next year. Zhou Yiheng wasn't at work either, probably because it was a holiday. The street outside the alley was bustling with people celebrating the approaching New Year.
Only Yang Ye's grocery store was deserted, which was quite different from usual.
Li Cheng once asked her if she would still want the quietness she had before after getting used to the hustle and bustle. She said yes with certainty at the time, but now she thinks that if there is someone who can come and talk to her and walk around in front of her, it would actually be better than waiting all day by herself.
Yang Ye woke up a little after eight in the morning. She ate some bread for breakfast and washed an apple that Xiao Xiao had bought a while ago, saying it was for Christmas Eve. She picked up the tablet on the sofa and watched a TV show. It was almost noon when she opened the refrigerator and fretted over the overflowing fruit and vegetables in two drawers. She was alone, so whatever she cooked would always end up with leftovers. She simply grabbed a bag of instant noodles, ate a few bites, and went back to bed.
The sun was setting in the yard, and she saw the sun outside through the glass window. It was warm and should be very comfortable.
She moved the recliner out of the living room, opened it and placed it in the middle of the yard. She then took out a pillow and a blanket and slept under the old camphor tree that had been with her for decades.
Unlike Beijing's winters, the temperature in southern China often fluctuates rapidly. For example, right now, even at noon, even a blanket covering her body felt hot, and her skin was itchy from the sun. She folded the blanket in half and placed it under her waist, hands at her sides, and slowly lowered her eyes.
The sunlight fell on her face. In this warm embrace, Yang Ye's breathing gradually became even and slow. Everything around her seemed to become quiet. Only the occasional wind blew past, shaking the leaves of the camphor tree above her head and lifting the gauze curtains in the room, making a slight rustling sound.
"What are you doing, Zhaozhao?" Her brother patted her shoulder and suddenly appeared from behind her.
The pen that had just been dipped in ink was slapped down, and some of the ink on the tip of the pen splashed onto her.
She was shocked and annoyed: "Brother, why are you scaring me?"
"How did I scare you? You're the one who wasn't steady enough." Seeing the ink stains on her face, her brother held back his laughter and reached out to wipe her face a few times to wipe off the ink.
"You are the one who is trying to scare me. Look at what I wrote." She pointed at the couplet on the table that was almost finished, with only the last few strokes missing.
"It's okay, I'll ask my brother to write another one for you. His handwriting is much better than yours."
"You're the one who's writing nonsense!" When she heard this, her grievance instantly turned into anger, and her face, which had already been bruised by her brother, became red with anger. "You are just trying to scare me. I'm going to tell my mother that you bullied me."
"Don't," he stopped Yang Ye, put his hands on his hips and asked her seriously, "How old are you? Why are you still talking about telling mother about this?"
"Seven-year-old" Yang Ye was confident.
"What are you two talking about again?" Mother brought in a plate of fruit and heard them arguing in the yard from far away.
"Mother, my brother bullied me. He ruined the words I just wrote." Yang Ye trotted to his mother, grabbed her sleeve, and pointed angrily at his brother sitting opposite him.
Mother looked down, saw the marks on her face, and asked with a smile, "What happened to your face again?"
Yang Ye was puzzled. She rubbed her face vigorously, but saw a black spot suddenly appear in the palm of her hand. "Brother!!"
She ran towards her brother angrily.
"I wiped it for you," the elder brother joked. He deftly dodged Yang Ye's attempt to bump into him. Mother sat on the porch, the plate of fruit on her lap, her eyes curved as she watched them having fun in the yard.
A series of rustling sounds at the door startled Yang Ye awake from her sleep. Her consciousness was still hazy, her brain briefly mired in chaos, her thoughts drifting. The faint roar of artillery shells seemed like a random fantasy that had appeared in her dreams.
But then, the bell-like sound rang several times, and Yang Ye woke up.
She went to open the door in her slippers. Zhou Yiheng was having trouble with the combination lock on the door.
Hearing the sound of the door being opened from the inside, and seeing Yang Ye opening the door, Zhou Yiheng grinned, revealing a row of big white teeth, "Boss, this combination lock seems to be broken again."
Yang Ye took a deep breath and asked calmly, "It's the weekend today, why are you here?"
"I just happened to be passing by here, so I came to take a look," Zhou Yiheng said. He rubbed his exposed hands, and the white breath he exhaled instantly disappeared into the air. He smiled and said, "Boss, can I go in first? It's quite cold outside."
He was only wearing a beige sweatshirt and dark blue jeans. In the almost zero-degree weather outside, he was so thin. Yang Ye's tone was a bit blaming, "Why don't you wear more clothes?"
"I had a cotton-padded jacket, but I didn't wear it when I went out because it was too hot. Who knew the weather would change this afternoon?" Monday walked in. Tonight was New Year's Eve, and originally, he hadn't considered going out, but then he thought about it. Tomorrow was the new year, and it really didn't make sense to stay at home on the last day of the old year.
She put on the blanket he had covered the back of the chair and said, "By the way, boss, aren't you going out?"
"I don't want to go out." Yang Ye sat down on the sofa.
"I guess so," he muttered.
While waiting for the bus, Zhou Yiheng wandered around the area. Suddenly, his gaze crossed the bustling streets and caught sight of the park in front of the mall. On a bench in the park, he saw an elderly woman sitting. She had silver hair, a thin frame, and a slightly hunched back. She sat there quietly, away from the crowd, enveloped in a sense of loneliness.
Looking at the old man, Zhou Yiheng somehow thought of Yang Ye. In fact, Yang Ye and the old man had many similarities: they were both the same person and felt the same loneliness.
Yang Ye heard his mumbling. To be honest, she was somewhat surprised by Zhou Yiheng's appearance. However, because of this unexpected surprise, her mood became complicated.
I couldn't help but get closer, but I rationally wanted to escape.
Zhou Yiheng opened the refrigerator and asked, "Boss, what did you have for lunch?"
Yang Ye pulled the blanket next to him, "Instant noodles"
Zhou Yiheng asked again: "What would you like to eat tonight?"
Yang Ye didn't have any idea, "whatever"
"I knew you would say that," Zhou Yiheng closed the refrigerator door, "I'll order takeout. I have some vegetables in the refrigerator, so I can make hot pot tonight."
“Didn’t you just eat?”
"That was all at the beginning of the month. Now it's the end of the month, no, it's the end of the year. Let's have a hotpot at the end of the year, and the New Year will definitely be perfect," Zhou Yi said with a smile.
The hot pot simmered, its scarlet, glossy broth surfacing with dense clusters of Sichuan peppercorns and chili peppers. Steam curled between them, mingling with the distinct aroma of spicy hot pot, and puffed directly into their faces. The beef rolls curled in the simmering broth, revealing an alluring pink-white hue. The emerald green vegetables clung to the sweltering heat, seemingly warming the very air around them.
Zhou Yiheng waved his hand in front of her and said, "Boss"
Yang Ye focused his gaze, "What's wrong?"
Zhou Yiheng asked with a smile: "Are we going to set off fireworks later?"
"No, it's too cold at night and I don't want to go out," Yang Ye refused bluntly.
The joy on Zhou Yiheng's face disappeared instantly. He hung his head and continued to persuade: "Let's go. It's right by the river. The fireworks will be beautiful."
He murmured in a voice that sounded like he was acting coquettishly.
Yang Ye didn't even raise his eyelids, "No"
She used to love watching fireworks. Every year during festivals, she would go to the riverside outside the city with her father and mother to watch the fireworks soar into the sky, blooming brilliantly before her eyes. Later New Years, she spent them with Xue Shangyang. After dinner, the two of them would walk hand in hand through the alleys, perhaps to listen to music or see a movie.
But when those fireworks that were supposed to be displayed in the sky for people to enjoy turned into ammunition that blew up the city of Beijing, and when she personally felt that thing exploding beside her, the scorching flames seemed to engulf her.
From then on, she seemed to no longer like fireworks so much.
Perhaps she had been too decisive in her decision not to go. After finishing her hot pot and cleaning up the kitchen, Yang Ye stood in the living room, observing the now completely quiet room. She smiled helplessly, her hands still damp from moisture after wiping them clean. Zhou Yiheng would probably spend the New Year with his friends this year. After all, such a festive occasion would be more enjoyable to spend with friends and family than with an elderly woman living alone.
It was already dark outside. Yang Ye sat on the sofa, turned on the TV which he hadn't watched for a long time, found a New Year's Eve party, and listened to the excitement coming from the TV.
The heater in the room had been on all afternoon, but perhaps because the house was so large, it couldn't cover the entire room. She felt a little cold and hugged herself.
Outside the window, the neon lights of the entire city were still flashing, and occasionally the sound of fireworks came from outside. The screen of the mobile phone next to it lit up a few times, and there were several promotional text messages.
There were faint noises outside, and the warm yellow light in the living room was still on. Yang Ye opened her eyes, drowsy, as if she had slept for a while. A faint light shone through the window, and she pulled open the curtains in confusion. Zhou Yi was squatting in the yard, his hair messy from the wind. To avoid blocking his view, he could only shake his head repeatedly.
She was amused by Zhou Yiheng's comical swaying from side to side, and saw him stand up straight. Zhou Yiheng felt the faint light from the room, and he turned around, his mouth corners raised, with the most sincere smile in his eyes.
He carefully held the small cake he had just taken out of the box and looked into Yang Ye's eyes in the room. He held the cake in one hand and waved to Yang Ye with the other.
"Boss, come out," Yang Ye read from his lips.
Noticing that he was still wearing only the same amount of clothes he wore during the day, Yang Ye grabbed the blanket beside him, walked out anxiously, and asked, "Aren't you cold?"
The candlelight reflected on his face and he lowered his head slightly.
Looking at my watch, "Wait a minute"
"Ten, nine, eight, seven..."
In just a few seconds, Yang Ye felt like his breathing had stopped.
"Four, three, two" He looked at the hands on the dial, smiled and raised his head, "Happy New Year"
At the same time, the sound of enthusiastic fireworks rang out densely over the city.
"Boss, Happy New Year!" He looked at Yang Ye with a smile.
The young man's gentle eyebrows and eyes were in the swaying candlelight, and the dancing candlelight was the fragmented light reflected in his eyes.
"Zhao Zhao, Happy New Year"
That year, Xue Shangyang said the same thing.
How wonderful those days were.
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