After paying the bill, Fang Yanyan saw a food stall outside the market selling roasted meat sandwiches. The fragrant aroma of meat filled the air, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Sister Jia Nan, I'll treat you to roasted meat. Don't be shy!"
On a misty, rainy day, you really need some hot food to soothe your downcast mood. The two of them, carrying large shopping bags, stood by the stall, munching on roujiamo (Chinese hamburger). After they finished, Song Jianan asked, "Would you like some grilled squid or fish balls?"
"Grilled squid, grilled squid!" Fang Yanyan hurriedly agreed, stretching out a greasy hand to pull out two crumpled banknotes. "Boss, three cups of bubble tea, with pearls, hot."
Song Jianan casually asked, "Why three cups? Can you even drink that much?"
"No, we'll each have a drink. You, me, and my brother, I just texted him to come pick me up."
"Ugh, your brother!!"
He was wearing a white trench coat, without an umbrella, his hands in his pockets, his short, straight hair gleaming, a few strands damp and falling across his forehead, glistening with raindrops. His eyes, veiled by the thin rain, held a cold, almost unreal aura. Seeing them standing together, he frowned slightly. "Fang Yanyan, I was only gone for a short while, and you ran out on your own?"
She casually handed him a cup of bubble tea, smiling ingratiatingly, "Your house has no food at all, it's like another dimension."
He smiled and took it. "Is there anything else to eat? It's so cold outside, Song Jianan, what do you want to eat?"
Song Jianan was happily eating a small bowl of wontons when she saw Su Li. Her heart skipped a beat, but she couldn't bear to put down the hot soup. She blew on the wontons and replied, "Chicken broth wontons."
"I like the chicken broth." Fang Yanyan chuckled and took a small spoon to scoop some out, which made Song Jianan frown and complain, "Fang Yanyan, if you want to eat it, go buy it yourself. You just ate most of the eight-treasure porridge."
"Books can only be read if borrowed, and food can only be enjoyed if snatched. Oh, it's delicious and smells so good." Fang Yanyan nudged Su Li and gestured with his lips, "You should try some too."
He took the spoon that Fang Yanyan handed him, then met Song Jianan's smiling eyes. Before he could refuse, Song Jianan pushed the bowl in front of him, "It's delicious, try it." As she spoke, her bangs slid down her forehead, covering half of her eyes. Under the light of the roadside stall, he could clearly see the raindrops on her eyelashes, like flowing light.
"You're being unfair!" Fang Yanyan complained, tilting her head. "Jianan, you're favoring Su Li," she said, reaching out and scooping up most of the food.
Song Jianan suddenly didn't know how to respond, and awkwardly withdrew her hand. Su Li, on the other hand, smiled slightly at her, just like the smile he had when she was at a loss before going on stage to receive an award.
Su Li took a spoonful from her bowl and warmed his other hand against the rim of the bowl. "It's really good, but there's not much left. Do you want me to buy you another bowl?"
She quickly shook her head, "I've already eaten most of it, I'm full."
Su Li smiled and didn't answer. She glanced at Fang Yanyan and then turned her gaze to Su Li. She never thought that such a man would be sitting at a roadside stall eating. She lowered her head and took a sip of milk tea, slowly chewing the pearls. In the smoky outdoor food stall, the man in front of her seemed like a thin mist, his face indistinct.
She suddenly remembered her college days, when a few good friends would go out at night to eat hot pot and spicy hot pot, having a lively time. She wondered if he would also sit with his friends in twos and threes at roadside stalls on winter nights to enjoy food.
She even had a vain hope that she wanted to live in his life, both in the past and now.
She was startled by her own realization, but then she regained her senses. Fang Yanyan and Su Li had finished eating, and she wanted to stand up and say goodbye, but Fang Yanyan interrupted, "Sister Jia Nan, where do you live? We'll take you home first."
She thought for a moment and then declined, "It's okay, just drop me off at the subway station ahead."
"Hey, let's go, let's go, stop making excuses." Fang Yanyan picked up her shopping bag and tossed it into Su Li's hand with a smile. "I'm injured, I can't lift heavy things."
He naturally took her bag and smiled, "It's okay, no trouble at all. Fang Yanyan has been cooped up these past few days, it's good for him to get out and get some fresh air."
She lived in a remote part of the neighborhood, where cars couldn't go. The rain had been getting heavier and heavier, so Fang Yanyan volunteered to stay in the car. "Brother, I'm injured, so you should take Sister Jia Nan home."
Song Jianan was speechless after being teased by Fang Yanyan, while Su Li seemed unconcerned. He carried her things, held up an umbrella, and gestured for her to get out of the car. Fang Yanyan sat in the passenger seat and waved to her obediently.
They even felt somewhat apprehensive, especially when facing Su Li.
He walked to her left. The neighborhood was deserted in the rainy night. The two did not speak, and even their breathing was so faint that it was almost frightening. Only their exhaled white vapors melted into the vast fog, creating a scene as quiet and peaceful as a tranquil yet flowing painting.
She walked cautiously, following closely beside him. Song Jianan suddenly remembered that dark night, the white light on his phone screen on the stairs, and the soft footsteps. She followed behind him, her heart pounding with each step.
A slight pang of sadness welled up in my heart. I looked up at the sky and realized that winter rain truly is the tears of those who are parting.
All that remains are the marks of time. Ten years ago, he was unaware of the footsteps in the darkness, and ten years later, he is unaware of the turmoil in the hearts of those around him.
The outlines of the distant mountains of the city were no longer visible, and the neon lights flashing on the high-rise buildings mocked her bewilderment. She looked out without focus, trying to see further, but gradually, her vision was blurred by the mist and rain.
Suddenly, the man next to her spoke up, "Song Jianan, it rained like this during that awards ceremony."
Her mind went blank for a while before she reacted, and she softly said "Mm" before falling silent. He continued, "Every year at the beginning of winter, it rains here, just like this. You can't see the raindrops, but you're completely immersed in the rain."
"Many people hate this kind of rain, and I'm no exception, but this kind of rain only happens once a year."
She stretched out her hand, her fingers filled with a chilling, penetrating coldness. She touched icy water droplets, but even more so, mist, which overlapped with that hazy, rainy encounter in her memory. She smiled slightly, "You were sitting next to me that time."
Unexpectedly, she brought up this topic again. Su Li turned his head to look at her, then turned back and shook his head with a smile. After thinking for a moment, he swallowed what he wanted to say. "Yes, in the blink of an eye, so many years have passed."
“Yes, so many years.” Song Jianan smiled and let out a long sigh. She suddenly stopped, raised her head slightly, looked at Su Li steadily, and said softly, word by word, “Actually, I never thought I would meet you again.”
Quietly awaiting his answer, he loosened his grip on the umbrella handle slightly, his faint smile becoming even more hazy in the mist. His brows furrowed and then relaxed, and his indifferent eyes seemed to flow with a quiet warmth.
"Life is unpredictable, but I never thought I would never meet you again."
Author's Note:
costarica
The weather was bad, rainy and foggy, an inevitable melancholy, and thus, an uncontrollable bout of writer's block.
Leave a message, boohoo.
Happy New Year in advance!
"Time's Edge" by Sheng Li, Chapter 30 — Jinjiang Original Website [Works Library]
"Get some rest and don't overthink it."
She turned her head again to watch his figure slowly disappear into the mist. She leaned against the corner of the stairwell, staring blankly for a long time. She didn't know how long she stood there until she felt completely cold before she sneezed twice.
It wasn't about looking at Su Li, nor was it about looking at the rain scene; at that moment, I didn't want to think about anything, my mind was completely blank.
After taking a hot shower, I sat down at the computer. Fang Yanyan's avatar was lit up on QQ. I sent her a smiley face, "Sister Jia Nan, you're only just getting online? What are you doing?"
"I was just about to look at some posts, that's why I'm chatting with you."
"Hehe, I'm eating Want Want rice crackers, and crumbs are everywhere. It's so satisfying."
She couldn't help but laugh, "You really are the kind of person who, once you're better, starts causing trouble again. Did your brother die of anger?"
"It's almost here, almost here. He's practically dead. His house is too perfect. Perfect things are meant to be destroyed. You know, he's not a medical student, so how can he have OCD? A science student should be free-spirited and unrestrained."
Whenever Su Li was mentioned, she couldn't help but try to get more information out of Fang Yanyan. She secretly mocked her own selfishness, but still asked in a very generous manner, "Where is Su Li? Is he next to you?"
"Yeah, he was right next to me, crawling around my feet sweeping the floor. I just told him why he didn't wait until I finished eating the sunflower seeds before he started sweeping, and he kicked me hard. It still hurts. How can a man be so violent?"
Song Jianan immediately replied, "You deserve it."
There was no reply for a long time. Just as she was about to close the chat window, a message popped up: "I made that kid go to bed and let him get some rest before heading to Beijing the day after tomorrow. Goodnight, and you should go to sleep early too."
"Okay, goodnight."
The window was fogged with condensation, making the distant lights appear hazy and indistinct, their light scattering erratically and indistinctly. Song Jianan stretched out her finger, hesitated for a long time, and then carefully wrote Su Li's name, stroke by stroke, seriously or perhaps playfully. The scenery outside the window became clear again, but she saw that Su Li's name was weeping.
The next day at work, the weather was still misty and rainy. She didn't bring an umbrella, and by the time she arrived at the newspaper office, her bangs were soaked. Rainwater dripped into her eyes, making them feel swollen and uncomfortable. She could barely see people clearly and almost mistook the director for a cleaner.
As usual, it was another long meeting, which revolved around the issue of web clipping. There's a flu going around in the office lately, and what should have been a serious criticism session turned into a constant stream of coughs, snot, and sneezes.
Song Jianan listened absentmindedly but pretended to be diligently taking notes. Her notebook was full of random, incomprehensible things. She suddenly remembered that Su Li had told her before that he liked to practice calligraphy during school assemblies, especially regular script. He would use the calligraphy as a spokesperson, writing slowly and forcefully, just like an ancient executioner slowly torturing a prisoner.
After get off work, I go to the bookstore to buy a calligraphy copybook. Every day I tear out a page and place it inside the copybook. I don't know which copybook Su Li used before, whether it was Pang Zhonghua, Wei Zhonghua, or Shinbei. His calligraphy has always been very elegant, and he is just like his calligraphy.
And what is he doing now? He always seems so busy. Questions slowly rose in my mind. I stared blankly at the ballpoint pen in my hand, watching myself write the two characters "Su Li" and then gently, stroke by stroke, cross them out.
Zeng Shuyi came to find her at noon and invited her to lunch. Song Jianan didn't react for a moment. "I'm not going to eat with you to celebrate the New Year. We women are getting a year older, and we're using this as a way to commemorate it. Then we drink ourselves into a stupor like crazy, grab a random man, and say that life is not wasted—hypocritical."
Zeng Shuyi was shocked, "Song Jianan, when did you become so eloquent, quick-witted, and insightful?"
"It's not my original work; it's plagiarized from the woman next door." She thought for a moment and then added, "Hypocrisy is my conclusion."
Zeng Shuyi banged her head against the wall helplessly. "It wasn't that kind of meal, it was a blind date."
Song Jianan glanced at Zeng Shuyi calmly. "Oh, you go on blind dates too? Didn't you swear you'd never go down that feudal path?"
“There’s no other way. Capitalism and socialism don’t work in today’s society. We have to go back a hundred years and follow the feudal path. Arranged marriages and matching social status are becoming more and more popular.” Zeng Shuyi sighed deeply. “This is the trajectory of our lives: going to school, working, falling in love, getting married, having children, growing old and dying. No one can escape it.”
Song Jianan laughed and said, "Aren't you afraid that I'll go on a blind date with you and steal your young and promising man? In romance novels, it's always the younger sister who steals the older sister's lover, the best friend who steals her boyfriend, the blind date where the person accompanying her ends up becoming a couple, and even the bridesmaid who steals the groom at a wedding."
"Come on, are you going or not? This time my mom brought me a Chinese-American returnee, who is said to be a big fan of Chinese culture, both ancient and modern, and a very patriotic young man. I'm afraid I can't handle him. You know, I'm a business major, what's the point of going with him? -- Sorry, I misspoke."
Song Jianan shook her head, "Don't actually say that out loud. The sea turtle will probably turn into a fossil immediately. What good would it do me to go with you? It's New Year's Eve, and I'm going to see the New Year's Eve concert."
"Hey, don't be so high and mighty. I've already treated you to a free meal. If there's any ancient poetry or song to recite, you have to come to my rescue. If this person is feeling down, you have to help me out too. Just like you guys doing live reporting, be flexible and adaptable."
She really accompanied Zeng Shuyi on her blind date. The location was a famous Western restaurant in the city. There were many couples around during the New Year, and they were so sweet that she didn't want to be a supporting character. She had a strong urge to run away, but Zeng Shuyi dragged her there. Before they even reached the table, a broken Chinese voice floated over, "Are you Miss Zeng Shuyi? Who is this? Hehe, you two ladies are still being coy. Please come and sit down."
What does it mean to be coy and half-concealed? She looked up at the man. He wasn't tall, just an average overseas returnee. He looked quite like someone who was building socialism. Then she looked at Zeng Shuyi, who was silent. She thought this was a bad start, so she quickly tried to smooth things over. "My name is Song Jianan. I'm her colleague. Well, she's not very familiar with me. I'm afraid the whole process might be awkward, so I'm here to keep her company and liven things up."
She gasped as her foot was stomped on hard, then chuckled foolishly for a while before deciding to shut her mouth tightly.
She found the man's words so flamboyant that they were depressing. The socialist man said, "I don't ask for much in life. A long-awaited rain after a drought, meeting an old friend in a foreign land, a wedding night, and passing the imperial examination. Now I've passed the imperial examination, met an old friend in a foreign land, and received the rain. All that's missing is the wedding night, haha."
He also said, "The most successful time in life is when you are awake and holding power over the world, and drunk and reclining on the lap of a beautiful woman."
Song Jianan silently lowered her head and ate her sizzling seafood noodles. Zeng Shuyi quietly kicked her twice, and her phone vibrated twice in her pocket. She slowly raised her head and said, "Actually, I think... whether a person is successful or not in their lifetime depends on their funeral."
The socialist man's lips twitched slightly, and he chuckled, "Miss Song Jianan covers the entertainment section, huh? She really has a great sense of humor. Watching TV today, Hu Jintao's speech was very powerful, and his Three Represents were very insightful!"
“Oh, I know, the Three Represents: electricity meter, water meter, gas meter,” she interjected casually, then said expressionlessly to the dumbfounded man, “Did I say something wrong?”
Zeng Shuyi chuckled to herself, then nudged Song Jianan to signal that she could stop. She stood up, bowed slightly, walked to the bathroom door, took out her phone, and prepared to pretend to be a boss and call Zeng Shuyi, telling her to go and do an interview now.
The window was slightly ajar, letting in a cool breeze. She reached out and touched her burning cheeks, letting out a long sigh. Suddenly, she felt incredibly bored, as if she couldn't control anything, just following the conventional path. To put it another way, "Life is a series of torments and endurances. Three years of high school to get a university acceptance letter, four years of university to get a diploma, three more years to get a marriage certificate, and five more years to get a divorce certificate."
As her thoughts drifted, the door to the men's restroom was pushed open, and a strong smell of alcohol wafted in. She frowned in displeasure. A tall, young man stumbled over. Song Jianan instinctively tried to avoid him, but somehow, the man slipped. She instinctively reached out to grab him, but only managed to grab one of his sleeves. The man fell to the ground and couldn't get up no matter how hard she pulled.
"I really hate drunkards," Song Jianan frowned slightly, squatted down to try and wake him up. His eyebrows and eyes were covered by his hair, but his profile seemed familiar. Song Jianan's heart skipped a beat. After taking a closer look, she was stunned and speechless.