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墨書 Inktalez
Twenty-five years ago, on the winter solstice, my father and I moved to a small town in City Z. In the middle of the night on the train, I lay in my bunk tossing and turning, while my father snored loudly below me, occasionally mumbling indistinctly in his sleep. I decided to sit up, using the flashlight under my pillow to pull out Mr. Lu Xun's "Dawn Blossoms Plucked at Dusk" from my backpack.
"We are now walking along a narrow and treacherous path, with an endless muddy swamp on the left and an endless expanse of quicksand on the right, and ahead lies our destination shrouded in thin mist..." I was captivated. The window outside gradually brightened, and I knew that when the sun hung high again, we would arrive at our new home.
City Z is a coastal city in the south, where every breath carries a damp, salty taste. When I first got off the train, I felt short of breath; the biting sea breeze filled my nostrils with the salty scent of seawater, reminiscent of long-stale rotten eggs—though the smell was gone, it lingered in the air. Growing up in City B, I had long been accustomed to the bleak northern winds. Arriving in City Z, the same sky had a different taste that made my stomach churn.
After another half-hour taxi ride, we finally arrived at an old low-rise neighborhood. Dragging my luggage behind me, I followed my father as he turned left and right through three corners until we stopped in front of an old building. It was a seven-story standalone building with a weathered exterior; its walls were peeling into irregular fragments, and dilapidated awnings were sparsely draped over several balconies. The dim lights in the stairwell flickered ominously.
Reaching the fourth floor, my father paused in front of Room 403 and fumbled for his keys in his pocket to unlock the door. Inside was a small two-bedroom apartment with one living room and one bathroom. Upon entering, there was no musty smell as I had expected; instead, I saw clean white walls and furniture covered with tidy white cloths—a fresh scent of sunlight permeated the air as rays filtered onto the balcony. My father set down his luggage and said to me, "This is the house your grandparents left for your mother after they passed away. Your grandmother was from City Z. Your aunt often comes to clean; she heard we were moving here and came early to prepare everything. Take a look around; if you don’t like anything, just tell your aunt." With that, he walked toward the kitchen, where faint clattering sounds of pots and pans soon followed.
I entered the bedroom and looked around with warmth filling my heart. By the window stood a 1.8-meter single bed covered with a beige floral bedspread. Next to it was a desk with an old photo frame on it. I picked it up to take a closer look; it contained a picture of two girls—one tall and one short—both with ponytails wearing colorful tops and black pants. It was my mother and aunt. I touched my mother's face in the frame and gazed out at the endless coastline beyond the window, feeling empty inside but unable to articulate what emotion it stirred.
That evening, my aunt and Uncle came over carrying bags of groceries for dinner. My ten-year-old brother Shen Xiuyu also helped carry things like a little adult—he was adorable.
"Sister, which school will you be attending here?" Shen Xiuyu asked while munching on chicken leg meat.
"You'll be attending Second Middle School next to your school," my aunt replied as she placed a piece of fish into my bowl. I nodded at her and devoured my food eagerly. Ever since starting junior high and getting my period, my appetite seemed to have increased significantly; two bowls of rice became standard for me as I grew taller and developed more noticeably—sometimes I could eat several meals in a day when hunger struck.
"Auntie, when can I register?" I asked.
"Monday morning; your Uncle teaches there so he will take you," she said while gently nudging Uncle with her elbow.
"Xiao Fan, I'll pick you up at 7:45 on Monday morning; remember to bring your backpack along with basic stationery and your transfer certificate," Uncle said with a smile.
"I got it; thank you, Uncle."
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