The two remained silent for seven or eight seconds.
Zhao Xiyin suddenly called him in a low voice: "Brother Zhou".
Zhou Qishen's lips trembled slightly, and then he said, "Come home with me. I want to offer incense to my mother."
It takes an hour to drive west from the city center to reach Zhou Qishen's hometown.
A slightly winding road narrows as the village is filled with two-story houses, red lanterns hanging high, and burnt firecracker debris scattered on the ground, occasionally punctuated by the barking of dogs. As midnight approaches, many people come out to prepare for setting off fireworks.
Zhou Qishen's car was very conspicuous; only a few cars like it could come to this village.
Many people exclaimed in surprise, "Wow, Qi Shen is back for the New Year?!"
Zhou Qishen rolled down the car window and greeted the person politely, "Happy New Year."
"Did you come back alone?"
"My lover is back too."
As he spoke, Zhou Qishen leaned back a little, making way for them without any attempt to hide. Everyone looked out from the passenger seat, and Zhao Xiyin greeted them with a sweet smile, "Happy New Year."
The car continued driving slowly forward. Zhao Xiyin glared at him, "What nonsense are you talking about? Who is your lover?"
Zhou Qishen said innocently, "The person I love is my lover. Where did I say anything wrong?"
Zhao Xiyin: "..."
OK, you make a good point.
Zhou Qishen asked her with a roguish grin, "Then what about me? Am I your lover?"
Zhao Xiyin felt that no matter how she answered, she would fall into his trap, so she simply slapped his face and turned him away, saying, "Focus on driving."
Zhou Qishen's face lit up with joy, as if only now did he truly feel the spirit of the New Year.
When I got home, the door was locked, the lights were on inside, and I could hear the television coming from the doorway.
Zhou Qishen stood there, unresponsive, without a key. His eyes blended into the darkness, devoid of any light. Zhao Xiyin knocked lightly on the door, once, then twice.
"Who is it?" The voice was heard first, then footsteps approached, and then the door creaked open.
Zhao Xiyin smiled sweetly and brightly, "Uncle Zhou, Happy New Year!"
Zhou Boning was wrapped in a black cotton-padded coat, his eyes always red. He was clearly stunned, and when he saw Zhou Qishen, his face darkened again.
Zhou Qishen's expression was no less stern than his; he was a hard, thorny figure, cold from head to toe.
But one doesn't hit a smiling face. Zhao Xiyin was still there. Even though it was the New Year, Zhou Boning didn't go crazy. He just stood at the door, making way for one person, and said to Zhao Xiyin, "Well, come in."
The old house was renovated four years ago, and everything is new. Although it's large, it's empty. The Spring Festival Gala is playing on TV, and there's nothing on the coffee table except for a bottle of wine and a dish of peanuts.
Zhou Boning went to the kitchen and didn't come out for a long time.
Zhou Qishen held Zhao Xiyin's hand tightly and said calmly, "Sit down, you can rest for a while."
Zhao Xiyin hooked her finger around his, "It's okay, I'll stay with you."
Zhou Qishen went to the side hall, where a black-and-white photograph hung on the wall—a very blurry frontal shot of his mother when she was young. Zhou Qishen lit incense for her, closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, raised the incense above his head, and bowed three times with great reverence.
Zhao Xiyin sat in the living room, watching quietly.
When they got married, she asked, "If you're looking for your mother, why are you setting up a memorial tablet for her? Isn't that contradictory?" Zhou Qishen's expression was calm and indifferent, devoid of any emotion. He said, "Since my mother has run away from this home, this is where her heart has died."
Dead means someone who will never come back.
For families like that, it's always the right thing to never come back.
That was the first time Zhao Xiyin saw the despair and darkness in Zhou Qishen's heart, which made her feel sorry for him and understand him better.
Zhou Boning, a long-time drinker, suffered from gout. It took him a while to finally emerge from the kitchen, carrying two cups of tea and limping. Zhao Xiyin quickly took them, along with Zhou Qishen's cup.
The atmosphere was silent and awkward.
Zhao Xiyin took out a red envelope from her bag and very considerately handed it to Zhou Boning. Zhou Boning glanced at her, then accepted it. Then he asked, "Are you staying tonight?"
Zhao Xiyin subconsciously looked at Zhou Qishen.
Zhou Qishen didn't say anything, he just took her hand and went upstairs.
Surprisingly, the second-floor bedroom was spotless and tidy, with freshly changed sheets and blankets, and not a speck of dust on the tables and chairs. Zhao Xiyin thought that Zhou Boning had prepared these things every year, probably hoping that Zhou Qishen would come home for the New Year.
There was a bathroom upstairs, and Zhou Qi squatted down to help her get her clothes.
He was very attentive; he could even tell whether the sanitary napkins in her suitcase were for day or night use. He handed her a neat stack of them, saying, "Turn the water up a little hot. There's no non-slip mat in the upstairs bathroom, so be careful. Come out as soon as you're done washing up, and don't stay in the water playing around."
Zhao Xiyin protested, "I didn't play in the water!"
"You used to hog the bathroom for an hour at a time, don't you remember fainting once?" Zhou Qishen snorted.
Zhao Xiyin blushed instantly.
How could she not remember that time she got so dizzy from taking a bath that she fell asleep, and Zhou Qishen had to carry her out. She was really scared, and she was both angry and heartbroken. "Is your husband not good to you? If he is, tell me and I will change. Don't try to commit suicide during your marriage."
Zhao Xiyin laughed and kicked him, revealing a patch of spring sunshine. The two exchanged glances and rolled around together in perfect unison.
He remembered every single detail.
After showering, Zhao Xiyin, wrapped in a cotton coat, stood somewhat awkwardly by the bed. Zhou Qishen was drying his hair, his royal blue silk pajamas resembling the color of a lake. His casual attire gave him a touch of roguish charm—an innate, unreserved, and naturally charismatic quality.