During Huaiyu's days of "living a life worse than death," he could not see the snow melting, but only felt the weather gradually warming up, and his longing for her was like a knot.
Whenever he falls silent, there is always a hand in his heart, writing one word at a time, stroke by stroke, up and down, each word the same.
Dandan must hate him for breaking his promise, hate him for abandoning her. A lifelong hatred. The repeated broken promises, the repeated abandonment, all brought her suffering. If she could never forgive herself, that would be better; but what could she do if she found out?
—Oh, she used to have thick, untamed, long black hair. All I see is black, just like him today.
What color is the lotus flower? Black. Through a year of withering and flourishing, the lotus pond holds the lotus root, which is also black. In the villages of Yuhang, West Lake, people dig lotus roots, extract the juice, remove the residue, and dry them into powder, thus creating the bowl of lotus root powder that Duan Mu holds in her hand. In Huaiyu's mind, that sweet lotus root powder, fragrant with the scent of hanging lotus blossoms, is also black.
The vegetables were black, the water from Tiger Spring was black, the vinegar fish was black, honey-glazed ham, Longjing shrimp, Dongpo pork, crispy fried tofu skin, rock sugar turtle… In his panic, he swept the plate of stir-fried eel paste across the floor with one hand, making a loud thud, his heart filled with sorrow. Life is too long.
What hope is there? He is not a blank slate, he is a bottomless abyss.
The water in Peach Blossom Pool is only three thousand feet deep, yet it is bottomless, endless, and without dawn or dusk.
Spring of 1934, Shanghai
Dandan watched with slight unease as Mr. Jin, who had only taken a few bites, suddenly convulsed and knocked over a table full of noodles.
"Mr. Jin, is the stir-fried eel soup served with noodles? Is it not to your liking?" she muttered, sounding a little aggrieved.
“No,” he said. “My throat is dry. Give me a glass of water. The noodles are delicious.”
Jin Xiaofeng pondered, he really was getting old. He had been in poor spirits lately, feeling tired and irritable. No, he had to hold on and not let his only woman look down on him!
"How about Coca-Cola?"
Jin Xiaofeng suddenly gripped Dandan's hand tightly, and after a long while, said, "Alright."
She sensed that in these tumultuous years, he had not only aged a bit, but also weakened. After all, his pride required him to expend twice the effort to cope with his impending demise; he couldn't bear to see himself come to an end. But his back remained straight, his shoulders broad, and his will unbreakable. Only in a moment of carelessness did his eyes betray him. Even the most discerning eyes can show a fleeting moment of sorrow.
Dandan smiled understandingly:
Where have you been these past few days? What have you been doing?
"Me? These past few days, these past ten days, you've been exceptionally good to me. I feel I haven't been wronged at all. Where did we go just now? To take a bath, get a haircut, change into nice clothes..."
Is there a show?
"I don't have any shows to do, so I don't look well."
"Whom are you going to see?"
"Reporter." Jin Xiaofeng pressed, "I want him to write an article titled 'An Interview with Mr. Jin Xiaofeng,' to portray me as the consistent, unchanging Jin Xiaofeng. I also took photos. The article will be published the day after tomorrow."
Dandan looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"He also mentioned that when the deputy commanders-in-chief of the Army and Navy visit the sea next month, he will attend the welcoming ceremony to show hospitality. ... He talked a lot. The article will be published the day after tomorrow."
"The day after tomorrow?"
"Yes. You can read the newspaper, right?" As he spoke, Jin Xiaofeng felt another wave of discomfort, strangely, his discomfort seemed to come in waves. He was a little embarrassed.
He firmly but politely sent them away:
"Could you pour me some Coca-Cola?"
She withdrew:
"I'm not looking, I'm not looking at anything."
His gaze was fixed on her retreating figure, lost in thought. An uncontrollable fire ignited within him, a cold fire that burned not at others, but only at himself.
He remains noble, immortal, and remembered by all. A subtle unease stirred within me—he had not fallen before all his adversaries.
Dandan handed him a glass of thirst-quenching liquid. Coca-Cola. Why Coca-Cola? Because its color is unfathomable, its taste is unbearably strange, and it's a kind of magical medicine.
Jin Xiaofeng got a new haircut; his gray hair was shorter and smelled of hair oil, making him look slightly comical—everyone who gets a new haircut looks different from usual.
He took the glass and tried to focus his attention on Dandan's face, listening intently to whatever she said, or trying not to listen at all.
However, when he raised his glass, he inevitably spilled some liquid onto his fine clothes, like a small puddle of discolored, aged blood.
She seemed happy, wanting only to feed and care for him—a simple, primal desire to ensure he ate and drank well. Over the past ten days, she had often prepared different kinds of noodles. Yesterday, she gave him three-shrimp noodles, made with shrimp meat, shrimp brains, shrimp roe, and seasonings, stir-fried and poured over soup. Today, they had eel noodles.
That's really well thought out.
He looked at her, very deeply.
He had never been threatened before, and finally, with a very nonchalant air, he tilted his head back and downed the Coca-Cola in one gulp. Because of the bubbles, the sudden downing irritated his throat, and he coughed while laughing unrestrainedly: "Another one, please!"
Dandan kept looking at him, her gaze deep.
Only after he finished drinking did she remember to put on a smile. She was transformed, filled with joy and radiance. In an instant, she seemed to be the master of her own life, her eyes shining with a light that even she could not believe. A small tear at the corner of her eye glistened, and even her skin was excited and taut.
Okay, one more cup.
When she came again, Mr. Kim was not in the hall.
Like a weary, sleepless beast, he finally crawled to his secluded abode. His soul wandered within the small golden room, all sounds blurring in his ears. Mr. Jin felt an eerie cold. Large beads of sweat rolled down his back, and gradually, his entire body was enveloped in the chill of the small space between his pillow and bedding. His eyes began to turn purple, and he gasped for breath.
He saw Dandan pour him another full glass of Coca-Cola. But he hesitated, and at that moment, he was overwhelmed with surprise and delight.
He already knew!
But how could this heartbroken man, so deeply in love, extricate himself? After all, she had devoted her entire life to his actions. Mr. Jin sneered arrogantly: