This is a newly built house, located on the side of the Mulberry Garden. Its white walls blend into the surrounding snow, and the high gable walls are also covered with snow, revealing the edges of the dark tiles and rafters, like black lines drawn on white paper. With just a few simple strokes, it outlines a picture of a Jiangnan folk house.
Qingmu stood on the second-floor corridor, gazing at the scenery outside.
The snow was still falling gently, turning the trees, big and small, into dancing silver snakes. Only the lake surface remained untouched by snow, as calm as a mirror, reflecting the gray sky. As soon as a snowflake landed on it, it seemed to be sucked into the mirror and disappeared.
Behind him was a familiar door, with a couplet pasted on it that read, "Only Qingmu can shelter the divine crow." Inside was a small room containing a desk, a sofa, a bookshelf, and a bird stand. On the desk sat a pack of Paramount cigarettes, a box of matches, and an ashtray. Magazines, all the latest, were scattered haphazardly on the sofa and floor. The bird feeder contained fresh braised pork hock, which still smelled delicious.
Further inside was a small room with white walls on all four sides, spotless. Against the wall was a bed, covered with a neatly folded silk quilt.
Everything was exactly the same as when he left. If it weren't for the changes in the exterior walls and location of the house, he would have thought he had lived there yesterday.
It's hard to believe it's been five years!
Liuying Lane is gone, the willows have turned into mulberry trees, and the old neighbors who once greeted him have all moved elsewhere. The mulberry Mulberry Garden is beautiful, but it is too desolate. He thought of that woman, living alone here, her black hair now frosted with gray, and a sudden pang of pain struck his heart.
This was a feeling he had never experienced before. For a lazy person without dreams, emotions were like icicles hanging from the eaves; they would freeze when they were supposed to freeze, and melt away naturally when they were supposed to melt, leaving nothing behind.
Qingmu looked up, reached out, and gently broke off the thin, long strip of ice. It was icy cold to the touch, but as he held it in his palm, the melted water seeped from between his fingers, soaking his skin. Eventually, it stopped feeling cold and instead felt warm, then slightly burning, as if he were holding a gentle flame.
The Crow perched quietly on his head, neither cawing nor making a fuss, simply watching the snowflakes drift past him one by one.
"Dinner's ready!" came Bi Shenghua's voice from downstairs.
The restaurant was small, with square tables against the wall, leaving three sides open. On the table were four dishes and a soup: a braised pork knuckle, a braised carp, half a poached chicken, a plate of stewed cabbage, and a bowl of radish and meatball soup.
Qingmu and Bi Shenghua sat facing each other, while Crow stood alone on one side, with a sliced braised pork knuckle in front of it.
Bi Shenghua smiled and said, "I didn't know you were coming back, so I didn't prepare much food. The market is closed on New Year's Eve."
Smelling the enticing fragrance, the Crow cawed contentedly, "Caw, Ruhua, I'm so satisfied! I feel alive again! Without you, life would have no meaning! You gave me rebirth and made the world a better place!... Caw... Mmm..."
Qingmu used his chopsticks to pick up a piece of pork knuckle and stuff it into its mouth, silencing its poetic mood, and laughed, "It's the New Year, don't talk about life and death."
Bi Shenghua took out a bottle of red wine and asked, "Would you like a little?"
Qingmu nodded and said, "Okay, have a little."
As Bi Shenghua opened the bottle with a corkscrew, she said, "This wine was a gift from Huang Ziqiang."
" Huang Ziqiang?" Qingmu thought for a while before he remembered that it was Boss Huang from West Mountain Hot Springs Resort.
"Yes, do you remember when we drank 1982 Lafite at his hot spring resort? That was more than five years ago!" Bi Shenghua said with a touch of emotion.
Qingmu laughed and said, "Didn't you say that the 1982 Lafite wasn't anything special, just that the weather was good that year, and that anyone who buys that kind of wine at a high price is a fool?"
Bi Shenghua said, "Later I thought that since the bar had expanded, it wouldn't be bad to stock up on some of this kind of wine to show off, so I asked Huang Ziqiang if he had any in stock, and I wanted to buy a few bottles from him. He said he was out of Lafite, but instead sent me a case of Romanée-Conti. I tried to pay him, but he absolutely refused. Judging from his expression, he was afraid you would come back and settle the score with him."
Qingmu couldn't help but smile, thinking to himself, "I'm not that petty. I wouldn't cause trouble for someone over a few bottles of wine." He then said, "I hope this guy didn't cause any trouble while I was away?"
"No, not at all. He's been doing very well in the business world these past few years, and he's quite a figure now. He hasn't forgotten you, though; he comes to ask about you every year and sends me quite a few things."
Bi Shenghua poured the wine into a decanter, and while it was sobering up, she talked to Qingmu about many things that had happened in the past few years. She talked about Professor Mei, Yao Jingjing and Hou Biao, Hu Xing and Shi Dazhuang, Yu Meiren and Xia Tian... She just kept talking without asking where Qingmu had gone or what he had done.
Qingmu and the book listened silently, occasionally asking a question. He also wanted to tell her the story of Ramla, but he didn't know how or where to begin.
Savages who eat raw meat and drink blood, the terror of a giant moon in the sky, the bizarre phenomenon of three suns appearing at once, the despair of Spacetime Deep Well... these stories, which might be extremely exciting to write in novels, only seemed like a blemish to him at this moment.
"Everyone is concerned about you. Logically, you should have told them as soon as you got back. But today is New Year's Eve, and it's snowing heavily, so we won't scare them with news about you. Tomorrow is New Year's Day, so how about..." Bi Shenghua hesitated for a moment and said, "I'll send everyone a message, and we can get together tomorrow?"
Qingmu looked at Bi Shenghua's face, at the occasional silver light reflecting off her hair under the lamplight, and remained silent for a while before saying, "No need for now, I'll stay with you for the next few days."
Bi Shenghua paused for a moment, hummed in agreement, and lowered her head to shake the decanter in her hand.
The Crow looked left and right, its eyes darting around, and said, "Will I turn into Hou Biao?"
"What?" Qingmu and Bi Shenghua asked at the same time.
The Crow said, "Your head is too bright, you're a natural light bulb!"
Bi Shenghua burst out laughing and said irritably, "With all that black, you'll never be a third wheel in your life!"
Seeing that she was more or less sober, she poured a glass for herself and Qingmu. The Crow hopped around, cawing, "Me too! Me too! Guagua!"
Bi Shenghua took a small glass of baijiu (Chinese liquor), poured a little into it, and said, "Drink slowly, don't get drunk!"
The Crow, seeing how small the cup was, was quite dissatisfied. It lowered its head, gulped down the wine in one go, smacked its lips, and cawed:
" Ruhua, another cup of quail! Ru--Hua--, don't be so stingy, quail!"
Bi Shenghua had no choice but to pour it another cup. It drank it down with the braised pork knuckle, then, slightly drunk, mumbled, " Ruhua, again! Ru--hua--, little girl, pour me some wine!"
Bi Shenghua slammed her hand on the table. "What did you say?!"
The Crow was so startled that it stumbled and fell off the edge of the table, landing on a chair. It stretched its neck, poked its head onto the table, and cautiously opened its beak. "Um, quack, what just happened? Guagua..."