Qin Ming rose, returned to the workbench, and picked up the half-carved stone statue.
It was A-Yuan, sitting on the threshold with the end of her braid draped over her shoulder, knees together, holding nothing in her hands, simply gazing quietly ahead.
Only the final few cuts remained.
Qin Ming picked up the flat chisel.
"Rest for a few days."
"Once you've rested, we'll raise a memorial for your parents and A-Yuan."
A-Fu watched the stone statue gradually take shape, his throat working.
"Uncle."
"Mm."
"Can I stay here with you for a while?"
Qin Ming's hand paused for an instant.
"Mm."
Then stone chips continued to fall. Like the little girl with braided hair on the threshold all those years ago, A-Fu picked up the fragments from the ground one by one.
A-Fu stayed there, and Qin Ming began carving again. This time, he carved no other figures, only stone statues of the Zhou Family.
Qin Ming carved for three days.
Just as he had carved that cat at the beginning, he held the flat chisel and cut stroke by stroke.
A-Fu crouched beside him and watched, just as he had when he was little.
On the first day, Qin Ming carved Zhou the peddler.
He carved him carrying his load, his shoulders slightly tilted beneath the curved burden pole, the cargo boxes covered with a piece of old blue cloth.
A-Fu said that cloth had been sewn by his mother. In one corner was an extremely tiny, faint plum blossom, too subtle to notice unless one looked closely.
So Qin Ming made a cut along the edge of the blue cloth.
Light and shallow, like the imprint of a plum blossom.
On the second day, he carved the woman.
She held out a bowl as if offering it