Ning Que woke up, but before he could open his eyes, he gasped. There was a sharp pain in his head, which made him a little confused. He could not remember the last scene in the Building of Pines and Cranes last night. He was not sure whether the headache was caused by the hangover or something else.
He thought for a long time and finally remembered the tall old man in fox fur and the thick short stick in the old man's hand. He also understood the cause of his headache. He could not help feeling angry and ashamed. He was angry that the old man dared to hurt him, and ashamed that as a core disciple of the Headmaster of Academy, he was beaten by an old rich man in Chang 'an with a stick.
Was he still lying on the balcony of the Building of Pines and Cranes? Ning Que thought about these questions and touched his body subconsciously. From the hardness of the brick bed and the smell of the bedding, he knew that he was lying in the Old Brush Pen Shop. Then who sent him back? Was it the shopkeeper of the Building of Pines and Cranes or that hateful old man?
The familiar smell of the bedding lingered in his nose. It was not a peculiar smell, but a smell that made him feel at ease. It was the smell of him and her. However, he smelled another smell that he was not familiar with but was very clear in his memory. The smell of beef and egg porridge made him feel lost for a moment, as if he had returned to the past.
Many years ago, he took Sangsang to the City of Wei to join the army. On the way, they passed by the town of Tushi and met a grassland barbarian chef who was selling beef porridge in the town. An old man in the town was very particular about breaking an egg into the beef congee. When the fresh beef came into contact with the egg that had just fallen to the grass in the morning, it immediately became an extremely fragrant, sweet, tender, and smooth delicacy. Even from afar, one could feel that it was extremely delicious.
Sangsang was very hungry for the bowl of beef and egg porridge, but Ning Que did not buy it to save money. The two passed through the town in silence. Later, in the City of Wei, he followed the army to kill the Horse Gang for the first time. After getting the first money, Sangsang made beef and egg porridge for four days in a row. Both of them felt a little sick. Then they realized that although beef and egg porridge was very nourishing, it actually tasted ordinary. So they never made it again.
Ning Que opened his eyes and looked at the white paper pasted on the roof. He smelled the aroma of beef and egg porridge coming in through the crack of the door. He rubbed his aching head and sat up.
He pulled his outer coat from the foot of the kang and put it on. Pushing open the door, he went to the courtyard. He saw that the neatly stacked firewood under the courtyard wall was a bit less, as if it had been stolen by rats in the night. There was a hole in the top row.
He looked at the front of the shop and saw that the vegetables, rice, and roast duck that were left on the table the day before were gone. The table had been wiped clean and the floor had been mopped. There was no dust at all.
A hot mist floated out of the kitchen. Ning Que walked over and found that the leftover vegetables had been poured into the swill basin. The stove, which had been cold for two days, was warm again. A few small firewood were quietly burning inside. The porridge bowl on the stove was bubbling, constantly emitting steam and fragrance.
There was a small stool in front of the stove. Sangsang sat at the place she was most used to sitting. She looked at the firewood, listened to the sound of porridge, and controlled the heat. Her head was slightly drooping, as if she was a little tired. Her dark face was reflected by the firewood, and the yellowish hair floating in front of her forehead was curled even more by the heat.
Ning Que looked at her thin back. After a moment of silence, he walked up to her and patted her on the shoulder.
Sangsang woke up and looked up at him. She asked, "You're awake?"
Ning Que said, "It seems that you didn't sleep much last night?"
Sangsang said, "Yes."
Ning Que said, "Then you go to sleep first. I'll make porridge."
Sangsang stood up from the small stool in front of the stove and wiped the slightly curled hair on her forehead to the back. When she walked to the door of the kitchen, she suddenly remembered something. She turned back and reminded him, "Watch the fire. Don't make it too big."
Ning Que said, "I know."
Sangsang said again, "You can't drink. Drink less in the future."
Ning Que said, "I know."
Then he walked to the stove and sat on the small stool. He took out the most burning firewood from the hole of the stove and turned the windshield to make the firewood smaller.
…
…
Sangsang woke up at noon. She took out a towel and a toothbrush to wash up. She went into the kitchen to take a look at the porridge bowl and then walked to the front bed.
There was a beautiful plate of peeled roast duck on the table in front of her. There were also two plates of vegetables with fresh spring onions and garlic. There was also a bowl of beef and egg porridge that was slightly burnt and appetizing. There were also two pairs of chopsticks and two empty bowls.
Except for the beef and egg porridge cooked by Sangsang, the other dishes were exactly the same as the day before yesterday. Ning Que actually went to the market to buy vegetables and recooked the dishes while she was sleeping.
Sangsang looked at the dishes on the table and suddenly looked down at the small shoes outside her skirt. She whispered, "Have you recovered? If you have, I'll go back to the Scholar's Mansion. "
Ning Que said, "You don't have to go back."
Sangsang was startled. After thinking for a while, she walked to the table and picked up a bowl of porridge for him. She placed it in front of him and handed the chopsticks to him. Then she began to serve herself porridge.
"Eat." Ning Que picked up a duck leg and put it in her bowl.
Sangsang said seriously, "This is a dish, not rice."
Ning Que said, "It's all the same."
Then they began to eat quietly in the shop. Occasionally, he would pick up some vegetables for her. Occasionally, she would dip the duck skin in the sauce and put it into his bowl. Then, she would serve him a second bowl of porridge.
Ning Que suddenly laughed.
Sangsang laughed, too.
…
…
A horse carriage stopped at the entrance of Lin 47th Street.
Mo Shanshan sat by the window and lifted the curtain to look at the Old Brush Pen Shop not far away. The Old Brush Pen Shop was not closed. She could clearly see the scene in the shop and many details.
Her eyes were still calm, but her eyelashes were slightly trembling.
She had read the Chicken Soup Calligraphy. And it was because of the rubbing of the note that she gradually imagined the man who wrote this note. So much so that she had developed feelings for him even before they met. And it was also because of this Chicken Soup Calligraphy that she had been very familiar with the name at the top of the calligraphy since last summer.
She even knew the importance of that name to Ning Que earlier than himself. That was why she had been silent and thinking many times in the Wilderness. That was why she had to see Sangsang.
She saw Sangsang on the first day she entered Chang 'an. To her surprise, she was just an ordinary handmaiden. Then she saw Sangsang again today.
And this time, she saw Sangsang alone with Ning Que.
Looking at Ning Que and Sangsang eating at the opposite table in the Old Brush Pen Shop, Mo Shanshan finally believed that these two people had been in a separate world many years ago. For them, everyone else in the world was outside the world, and everything was outside the world. It was difficult to leave their own shadows in that world.
Just like eyes and eyelashes, the only difference was that the eyes could not see the eyelashes, and the eyelashes could not hurt the eyes. But when a strong wind blew from the outside, the two would notice each other's existence.
"But I am a mountain, not the wind."
Mo Shanshan slowly put down the curtain, took out a letter and handed it to Zhuo Zhihua beside her.
Zhuo Zhihua hesitated and said, "Are we really leaving Chang 'an like this?"
Mo Shanshan calmly said, "After all, Mr. First invited me here. Later, we will go to the Academy in the southern suburbs. After seeing Mr. First, we will leave."
Zhuo Zhihua sighed and no longer tried to persuade her. She took the letter and got off the carriage.
…
…
After the meal, Sangsang went to wash the dishes. Ning Que sat at the table and opened the letter.
The letter was written in Mo Shanshan's familiar handwriting. The young girl's handwriting was not elegant or delicate, but there was a sense of openness and determination that could not be hidden under her tranquil appearance.
The last few paragraphs of the letter were like this.
"Maybe fate arranged for you to be in a separate world many years ago. There was no need for someone to stand outside the wooden door and knock, nor for someone to shout and disturb you under the winter tree outside the courtyard. But I don't believe in fate."
"I have benefited a lot from the journey in the Wilderness. I am very happy to travel side by side in Chang 'an in winter."
"In the snowy night and the red wall, you once said that you liked me. I once said that liking was not enough, and it turned out that it was indeed not enough. But at least you once said that you liked me, and I like it very much."
"Chang 'an is far from the Great River Kingdom, but it is not as far as the Wilderness. If you really want to come, if you really want to go, it is very close. In the future, you will come to see me, or I will come to see you, or we will meet again in the clouds. It is all a happy thing in life."
"After so many things, the rivers and mountains in my eyes have a new meaning. When we meet again, what I write will be more magnificent than what I write today. I hope you will also work harder and not let me down."
After reading the letter, Ning Que was silent for a long time. Then he walked back to the bedroom in the backyard, lifted the bed board, and took out the box under it. He found that the silver notes in the box had been returned.
Looking at the thick silver notes in the box, he could not help but smile. He knew that even if he did not say that before dinner, Sangsang had already prepared to move back.
He put the box back under the bed board, looked at the letter in his hand, thought for a moment, and threw it into the wastepaper basket beside the desk. Then he took the big black umbrella and told Sangsang to wait for her in the front berth.
After washing the dishes, Sangsang began to fetch water. She had fetched water once in the morning the day before yesterday, and the water tank was basically full. Soon she finished her chores and habitually wiped the non-existent beads of sweat on her forehead. She walked back to the bedroom and started to change clothes. Then she saw the letter in the wastepaper basket.
She was silent for a moment, carefully wiped her wet hands on the apron, and walked to the wastepaper basket to pick up the letter. Then she took out another box from a corner of the room and solemnly placed the letter in the deepest part of the box. Then she put the box back in its original position.
This was Sangsang's little black box, in which there were some things that Ning Que had decided to throw away for some reason, but were very precious to him. For example, the funeral invitation that Ning Que had copied on the rainy night after Zhuo Er's death.
She knew that this letter was precious to Ning Que, so she kept it.
…
…
Walking out of the Old Brush Pen Shop, Sangsang opened the big black umbrella and followed Ning Que to the outside of Lin 47th Street.
Ning Que had long been used to her making the bed, washing the dishes, and holding the umbrella.
But after a while, he suddenly took the big black umbrella from Sangsang.
Sangsang raised her little face and looked at him with a puzzled look.
He smiled and said, "Let's go."
Sangsang squinted her willowy eyes and nodded with a smile, "Yes.
The first spring rain fell in Chang 'an City, and it was as precious as oil.
Under the umbrella, the master and the handmaiden looked at the curtain of rain, as if seeing the past and the future.
…
…
(The third chapter, there are still a few minutes before the end of today, please vote for me if you have recommendation tickets. I will write the fourth chapter, but I don't know when it will be finished. Those who can't stay up late can go to bed first.) (To be continued. If you like this work, please come to Qidian.Com to vote for me. Your support is my biggest motivation.)
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