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墨書 Inktalez
Although Qing Shusheng never mentioned Liu Jiawei, his figure often standing at the bridge, with eyes gradually aging, told others that his heart was both hard and soft.
He both blamed him and was deeply worried about him.
As for Liu Xiuzhen, it goes without saying that every day she would tirelessly complain and nag Qing Shusheng to vent her longing for Liu Jiawei.
She was not good at hiding her emotions, often turning her complaints about Qing Shusheng into tearful accusations.
Especially after Qinglan returned, she felt even more empowered, frequently pulling Qinglan to her side to scold Qing Shusheng while crying out Liu Jiawei's name.
“Lanlan, tell me, if your father were not too harsh on your brother, would he sneak out alone? He is someone who fears hardship so much, yet he would rather suffer outside than return home. Isn't it because his heart has grown cold towards your father?”
Liu Xiuzhen knew that as long as she mentioned Liu Jiawei's running away from home, no matter how much she scolded Qing Shusheng, he would not retort.
“Mother, you've been talking for so long, and Father hasn't responded. You should stop mentioning him,” Qinglan said, pulling at Liu Xiuzhen's arm while looking at Qing Shusheng.
Caught in their argument, Qinglan felt torn.
“He is guilty at heart; that's why he remains silent,” Liu Xiuzhen wiped away a tear.
Although Qing Shusheng did feel some guilt, Liu Xiuzhen always seized upon this matter to hurl various insults at him. Even though he refrained from directly retaliating out of consideration for Qinglan, he couldn't help but turn his face away in annoyance.
“Lanlan has finally come home; you don't want to live a peaceful life yourself, nor do you let her have a quiet year, right?”
After saying this, Qing Shusheng strode out of the house and stood under the old locust tree in the yard. He pulled out a pipe from his waistband, lit it up, and took several deep puffs.
Qinglan helped the sobbing Liu Xiuzhen into her room and closed the door.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Qinglan took out a handkerchief to wipe away the tears on her mother's face and reached out to smooth down the messy hair scattered across her face and temples.
“Mother.”
As soon as she called out “Mother,” Qinglan's voice began to choke up.
Liu Xiuzhen looked at her in confusion.
Gazing at Liu Xiuzhen's aged face, with several strands of white hair at her temples, Qinglan felt a pang of bitterness in her heart.
Once, she was such a strong woman. When she held her daughter in her arms, she was like a hen guarding her chick, vigilantly watching everyone who passed by Qinglan with fierce eyes. She believed that she had to protect her daughter at all times.
But now, her gaze was filled with helplessness, her eyes weak and powerless; she was no longer the strong woman of the past, no longer the Mother who could protect Qinglan.
"Mother, please stop arguing with Father."
Qinglan suddenly interrupted. She didn't know how to express herself to her Mother.
What she wanted to say was that if you only knew how to argue with Father, one day you would drive him away. You really should learn from Brother Shaojie's Mother.
Qinglan finally couldn't bear to say these words out loud; she didn't want to see the look of despair on her Mother's face after hearing them.
For Liu Xiuzhen, in her current state, the daughter she had cherished since childhood was the only lifeline she could grasp. At this moment, Qinglan could not break that lifeline.
Qinglan turned her gaze to the window, looking at the faint flickering light outside. She knew that the light was directed towards the orange glow from the other side.
The old low Stilt House emitted an orange glow that appeared dreamlike in the hazy cold night of the mountains. Occasionally, faint sounds of laughter drifted out from inside, penetrating the night sky and reaching the ears of those who saw the light and heard the laughter, bringing warmth and comfort to those in the cold, making them unconsciously want to move towards that direction.
Yes, there were people Qinglan wanted to get closer to in that direction.
A few days ago, Shaw Min had also returned from Shenzhen.
This was Shaw Min's first time home for the New Year after working in Shenzhen for several years.
In previous visits around summer vacation, she had hurried back a few times for An Shaojie's college entrance examination and application matters but hadn't stayed at home for several days.
This time home for the New Year, she would stay for at least ten days! Qinglan had known Shaw Min was back for a while and had always wanted to see her but lacked the courage.
These past few days, Qinglan had been restless at home.
After lunch, just as the sun broke through after a gloomy morning, Qinglan stepped out of the house. In the yard, she glanced several times towards An Shaojie's house and saw Bai Cuifen bustling in and out.
Finally unable to resist any longer, Qinglan stepped out of the yard.
With her hands tucked into the pockets of a large red cloth coat, she strolled across the bridge at her doorstep along the path by the pond and headed straight towards the arched bridge at the edge of the village.
Standing at the bridgehead, Qinglan turned around, raised her hand to smooth her hair that had been tousled by the wind, and squinted as she gazed far away at the small village hidden among the emerald bamboos across the pond.
The Black-Tiled Bamboo House stood as it always had, with the May Mountain Gardenia Tree in front still intact. A snowfall had occurred a few days ago, and there were still patches of melting snow on the gardenia tree. Of course, the trees in front of the house and the black tiles on the roof were scattered with remnants of snow.
Qinglan gazed out at the distant mountains and the other bamboo houses across from her. There was hardly any trace of accumulated snow on the rooftops of the distant mountains or on the trees in front of those bamboo houses.
Places without residents felt a bit desolate, even the snow melted more slowly there, Qinglan thought.
The bamboo house across from her that was unoccupied belonged to Lin Xi's family. It was a place where Qinglan and An Shaojie often played when they were young.
Qinglan lowered her head and lifted her foot, preparing to walk across to the other side. She wanted to see the house that had brought them countless joys in the past.
And what about the Plum Tree on the hillside behind the house? Was it still there?
“Lanlan?” Someone called from behind.
It was a soft, delicate voice; Bai Cuifen stood at the other end of the bridge, holding a wooden basin.
“Hmm.”
Qinglan turned back and smiled at Bai Cuifen. After hesitating for less than half a second, she cheerfully walked onto the bridge and approached Bai Cuifen, leaning in front of her as she used to do in childhood, calling out shyly, “Mother.”
“Hmm, Lanlan, why did you come to the door without coming inside? Your Sister Shaomin is back!” Bai Cuifen looked at Qinglan with affectionate eyes filled with warmth. “Sister Shaomin... I know she’s back. Is she... okay?” Qinglan asked hesitantly. “You’ll know if you go in and see how she is,” Bai Cuifen replied teasingly, still smiling.
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