“Huo Shao left?”
Grandma passed through the courtyard and asked.
Xun Long nodded.
Grandma: “Why didn’t you ask her to stay for dinner?”
Xun Long had been forced to add Jin Zhuo on WeChat and was currently browsing through a Moments feed that seemed to stretch on infinitely.
“Her house has food.”
“Having it together is no big deal,” Grandma said, peeling and washing scallions against the sound of running water. “That girl is busy all day and still has to cook.”
Feixian Town was at least a driving hour away from the county seat. Usually, there was only one public bus a day, and many people going out had to catch cargo trucks whose schedules were unpredictable. In Xun Long’s memory, one had to wait at the intersection when the sky was still turning pale.
In a small town like this where there were barely any food delivery options, major chain brands would never set up shop. Many young graduates returned home only to find it just as underdeveloped, and left in disappointment to work in big cities.
Most of those who stayed behind could either endure the loneliness or knew how to cook delicious food themselves.
The content Jin Zhuo posted on WeChat Moments was far more extensive than on other social platforms, featuring countless late-night instant noodle sessions. It was clear her supplies were well-stocked, even stretching to Southeast Asian instant noodles.
Xun Long didn’t give Jin Zhuo a single like, and asked casually, “Don’t her parents cook?”
“She said she doesn’t see eye to eye with Old Jin, who is always cooking for her younger sister.”
“Old Jin eats rice mixed with fermented bean curd during the day and goes out drinking at night,” Grandma sighed. “He always drinks with your grandfather too, talking about finding a son-in-law to take over the business.”
Xun Long remembered how overly emotional Jin Zhuo had been while crawling onto her bed earlier that night, and thought to herself that that would probably be very difficult.
She asked a question she already knew the answer to, “Did he find one?”
Grandma walked toward the kitchen, carrying dripping scallions. “Hard to say. Nowadays, which young person is willing to do blacksmithing? Your grandfather’s lanterns are being passed down to no one either.”
The Xun family’s lantern shop had also been passed down for several generations, but in Xun Long’s father’s generation, no children were willing to take it over, preferring to run businesses outside.
Xun Long’s parents had her while doing business outside. Unfortunately, fate was unkind; they met with a low-probability tragedy, and both parents passed away, leaving behind only a babbling toddler.
Jin Zhuo’s WeChat Moments seemed endless. Xun Long put her phone aside and asked Grandma, “Does it really have to be passed down?”
“Factories make lanterns in batches now. Aren’t ironware items the same?”
The blacksmith shop next door mostly sold agricultural tools in the early years, along with some utensils that needed repairs.
In Xun Long’s memory, that sound was very noisy even through a single wall. From morning till evening, once you got used to it, it could simply blend into white noise.
Uncle Jin was always shirtless with a pitch-black wall behind him, and Jin Zhuo’s mother occasionally stood at the doorway chatting with neighbors.
What did Jin Zhuo’s mother do again?
She forgot.
Xun Long was very skilled at skipping over such unimportant information.
Grandma: “Of course it’s different.”
Xun Long asked why, but Grandma only repeated that it was different, and Xun Long stopped asking.
She had nothing to do all day long. Perhaps because she had spent too much time lying down intermittently during the day, she sat with her grandfather at night weaving bamboo strips. The old television was on, playing the same DVDs Xun Long used to watch when she was little, when suddenly her grandfather called out her name.
“Yuelong.”
Xun Long let out a soft “Hmm” and asked, “What is it?”
She wove bamboo strips very slowly, not like her grandfather, whose fingers were clearly thick yet nimble.
Every time Grandma said this trade had to be passed on, she had never asked Xun Long if she wanted to try.
They say you can tell a person’s character by the time they are three. It was blatantly obvious Xun Long was not a child who would stay in Feixian Town, so the elders tacitly avoided asking and didn’t make Xun Long help with anything.
Many nights during her student days were spent with Xun Long studying late by lamplight, while her grandfather and grandmother sat on the side watching TV and making lanterns.
Fortunately, the house was their own with no shop rent to pay, and the money they earned could still make ends meet.
Every Spring Festival, her grandfather would write couplets for people to earn a little extra pocket money.
Xun Long could make simple lanterns, though she hadn’t started from scratch with the bamboo strips back then; her handwriting, however, was quite good.
Out in the world, though, very few people knew she had this specialty.
Previously, on Jiang Kemin’s father’s birthday, Xun Long gifted a piece of calligraphy and painting. Jiang Kemin had been very surprised, asking how she had managed to keep such a hidden talent.
Xun Long honestly didn’t think it was a big deal. Just like there are mountains beyond mountains, she had never systematically studied it, so there was nothing special to talk about.
The TV played some unknown television drama from years ago, occasionally breaking into song.
Grandpa asked, “Aren’t you going out to play?”
Xun Long shook her head. “There’s nothing fun to do.”
The young people in the town were dwindling. These days, things had only gotten slightly better entirely thanks to strong government support for tourism.
Yet once the tourist season passed, it remained desolate. Summer was considered the peak season, and tourists brought in by tour buses came in waves; even the opposite grandmother hanging clothes would get photographed by someone.
“You should still go out for a stroll and see the sky.”
Her grandfather’s eyebrows were completely white, and he was gaunt and thin. In Xun Long’s memory, her grandfather used to ride a bike to neighboring towns to play the suona with people.
Xun Long: “It’s inconvenient.”
People outside all assumed Xun Long’s legs were completely ruined, but her grandfather and grandmother had been to the hospital with her and knew Xun Long hadn’t reached that point.
She could walk with a crutch, but perhaps finding it too unsightly after trying it out during her rehabilitation at the hospital, she preferred sitting in a wheelchair ever since she returned.
When no one was around, walking a couple of steps in the backyard to complete her daily task was enough.
Since Xun Long put it that way, her grandfather didn’t force the issue.
Taking the opportunity, Xun Long handed over the half-woven lantern she had made and asked, “Why can’t this be passed down anymore?”
The old man had spent his whole life making lanterns, and Grandma had married him precisely because he possessed this craft.
When Xun Long was little, Grandpa would make even more strange lanterns for her to play with, though unfortunately Xun Long was naturally quiet and didn’t cheer them on like other grandchildren.
After a moment of frustration, the little old man had gotten over it, and afterward, whenever Xun Long wanted something, he was always quick to pay.
“Wrong, this strand should go through here.”
Grandpa took away the half-finished lantern Xun Long was working on and showed her how to proceed.
The lantern shop had a deep storefront, with unpapered skeletons piled up on bamboo racks.
Many old, large lanterns hung from the ceiling. Sometimes walking past outside, one could see numerous large and small lanterns strung together with iron wire. If Grandpa Xun wasn’t at his table, he was mostly in the back making lanterns.
Jin Zhuo had walked past several times, but from a tricky angle where she couldn’t see Xun Long.
Xun Long understood after hearing it once. Seeing her sitting quietly, old man Xun suddenly sighed.
Xun Long asked, “What’s wrong? Is something wrong?”
She still cared deeply about right and wrong, just like when she was a child.
The old man let out a long sigh, merging with the music playing from the old TV DVD, casting his and Xun Long’s shadows onto the aged wall.
“You have much more patience to sit still than Xiao Wu and the others. I told your eldest uncle that after your grandmother and I are gone, Xiao Wu should take over the shop, but he couldn’t be persuaded.”
Xiao Wu was Xun Long’s cousin, around the same age as Jin Zhuo, working outside.
After Xun Long returned, he and his parents had also come to visit Xun Long. They weren’t very close, exchanging a few polite pleasantries without deep conversation.
Xun Long asked, “You asked him after I came back?”
Grandpa nodded. “How old are your grandmother and I? Just in case we pass away, if you ever want to come back in the future, you need to have a place to stay.”
Xun Long: “I won’t be left without a place to stay.”
The old man glanced at Xun Long’s wheelchair. “I haven’t even had to sit in a wheelchair yet, but you went and sat in one first. I still have to leave you some fallback plan.”
Xun Long smiled. “You just want to try an electric one, don’t you? Here, you can sit.”
As she spoke, she made a move to stand up by holding onto the wall, her movements slow and sluggish. Grandpa waved his hand, “Forget it, driving my tricycle is the same.”
Remembering Grandma saying the Old Jin next door wanted to recruit a son-in-law, Xun Long asked her grandfather if this was true.
Grandpa and Uncle Jin frequently drank together, so he let out an affirmative “Hmm.” “No one does his trade anymore either, but Huo Shao is capable. Beating iron plates is something a girl can do too.”
“Nowadays, who needs to make iron hammers? Farming uses machines now. In spring spraying pesticides, a drone just flies right over.”
Xun Long wove slowly, occasionally needing her grandfather’s help, and smiled as she listened. “Then what kind of live-in son-in-law does Uncle Jin want?”
Old man Xun thought for a moment. “It’s hard. Like Huo Shao herself, I told Old Jin, aren’t the daughters doing it themselves anyway? Yet he still worries about this and that.”
After all, it was someone else’s family business. Xun Long chatted casually for a bit, understanding why Jin Zhuo said her old man was traditional.
“Why are you suddenly curious about the Old Jin family next door?”
Grandpa Xun pondered for a moment and asked his granddaughter, who was lowering her head to weave bamboo strips, “Do you want to recruit a husband too?”
Xun Long: “I don’t need one.”
She had a gentle appearance and looked easy to manipulate. Yet after exchanging a few words with Xun Long, one could sense the strong will hidden beneath her gentleness.
Her looks earned her plenty of innate goodwill, yet were also cut short by her proud temperament.
When school alumni mentioned Xun Long, even while acknowledging she was top-tier in every aspect, they would still leave behind a general consensus that she was difficult to get along with.
Superficial small talk was fine, but Xun Long was someone very difficult to get close to.
Therefore, her friends could be counted on one hand, and even then, many turned into bitter enemies, leaving many people sighing in dismay.
Grandpa knew he couldn’t control Xun Long. He didn’t understand Xun Long’s line of work, but during that period in the hospital, he could also see Xun Long’s impatience with visiting colleagues.
A single accident had disrupted all of Xun Long’s plans.
If she hadn’t completely given up hope, with Xun Long’s temper of needing to debate right and wrong in everything, she wouldn’t have come back home.
The old man let out a long sigh. “If you don’t need one, what are your plans for the future?”
Just as Xun Long was about to speak, someone shouted for her outside, “Xun Yuelong!”
Before Xun Long could reply, the person walked straight into the storefront like it was their own home, weaving through the tightly packed paper lanterns, walking right up to Xun Long’s side, and cheerfully greeting old man Xun, “Grandpa Xun, have you eaten?”
Grandpa Xun wasn’t surprised at all and let out an “Oh,” saying, “It’s Huo Shao.”
The bamboo strips were flexible, having been split by her grandfather earlier.
In earlier years, the lantern shop could source lantern skeletons from a certain grandpa in the village, but after that grandpa passed away, no one made them anymore.
Grandpa Xun and that grandpa had been taught by the same master back then. Occasionally, he would mention his senior apprentice to Xun Long, sighing repeatedly about how nobody was learning it anymore.
Xun Long had a half-woven small lantern resting on her knees, raising her eyes to look at the uninvited guest. “What are you here for?”
Her left eye was covered with medical gauze, and her skin seemed even whiter than the gauze. The wall behind her reflected countless lanterns swaying due to Jin Zhuo walking in.
The lanterns collided, emitting a muffled, hollow sound, much like the thumping of Jin Zhuo’s heart right at that moment.
How utterly hopeless.
She had seen her just a few hours ago; why did seeing her again still make her heart race?
This was completely different from seeing a big fat dog.
Jin Zhuo walked over carrying a basket of peaches. “I’m bringing you some green mangoes.”
“A customer gave them.”
“Thank you,” Xun Long didn’t take them. “Didn’t I say there wasn’t any for me? Wait, never mind.”
Before Xun Long could finish speaking, Grandpa Xun chimed in, “Huo Shao, are you free right now?”
Sensing her grandfather’s intention, Xun Long gave a light cough. “She has customers tonight.”
Perhaps due to the heat, the ends of Jin Zhuo’s octopus-style hair were tied up in a clump, resembling the fluffy, embellished tail of an animal.
She smiled at Xun Long. “It’s fine, my customers are playing with iron plates on their own and don’t need me. That’s why I came out to deliver the green mangoes.”
Grandpa Xun: “Then why don’t you take my granddaughter out for a stroll, it’ll be good to get some breeze.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“Okay.”
Before Xun Long could refuse, Jin Zhuo dropped that basket of green mangoes, grabbed Xun Long’s wheelchair, and wheeled her away.
“My wheelchair is electric, you don’t need to push me.”
Jin Zhuo was strong, pulling Xun Long’s wheelchair away effortlessly, skimming past a huge pile of semi-finished lanterns on the ground. Smaller ones even fluttered up into the air like bubbles.
“Use me.”
Jin Zhuo lowered her head, and the stray locks of hair she hadn’t managed to tie back brushed against Xun Long’s cheek, releasing a rich fruity fragrance.
It wasn’t tomato sauce, but rather more like the scent of a ripe tomato freshly plucked from the vine.
The fresh fragrance of the branches carried a hint of nightshade-like pungency, as if it could only thrive within an orchard.
Many years ago, Xun Long had smelled this scent in an aromatherapy market.
It was very fleeting and impossible to hold onto.
Hearing Xun Long’s feedback, the stall owner had said, “My dear, if you like it so much, you should go smell it in an orchard.”
That kind of scent could never last forever.
An old scent from years past appeared out of nowhere as Xun Long was brought out onto the street amidst the swaying, bubble-like lanterns.
The sky had turned completely dark, streetlights had lit up, and there were still sporadic tourists on the road.
The wheelchair wasn’t as conspicuous as Xun Long had imagined, perhaps due to the darkness, or perhaps because there were other people in wheelchairs among the tourists.
Or perhaps it was because Xun Long had clearly grown up in Feixian Town, yet felt like a stranger.
The woman pushing the wheelchair wore a self-made necklace around her neck; Xun Long couldn’t clearly see what the pattern was.
Jin Zhuo lowered her head and asked, “Still angry? I sent you a message on WeChat.”
“You said it required your approval, but you didn’t reply to me.”
Totally unreasonable.
Xun Long: “I was busy.”
Jin Zhuo: “How about this, from now on, any approval request that isn’t replied to within five minutes will automatically default to approved.”
A tyrannical treaty.
Realizing how shrewd Jin Zhuo was, Xun Long let out a scoff. “Do you think that’s possible?”
The woman, caught in the act, pinched the necklace hanging around her neck. “Fine, then half an hour? I sent it to you forty minutes ago, and I was even lingering at the door for a long time.”
Xun Long: “You don’t have a chance anymore.”
She was referring to the chance of entering her house. Jin Zhuo understood and let out a wail, “Don’t be like that, sister.”
“You can’t count this as me coming over to deliver things for your grandparents, why are you deducting my counts?”
“Wait, if the base count is once a day for three months, does that mean I still have eighty-nine times left?”
Xun Long: She was speechless.
She was afraid someone might drop dead right in bed.