Korla, light snow, minus three degrees.
In the summer of 2002, you were wearing a big white T-shirt, chewing bubble gum, and your ponytail was swaying. You stood in front of the bus, suddenly pushed through the crowd heavily, and flashed me at the back of the bus a toothy grin. Your smile was so silly it bubbled over. I didn't know you, so I turned my head, my heart thumping loudly. I even muttered under my breath: shameless.
But I had an even more shameless thought then. I heard that if in this life you see someone smiling at you for no reason, it means there was an appointment in your past life. Thinking about this, I glanced at you again; you weren't too bad-looking.
We both got off at the stop of Route 235. I got off first, and you followed slowly. Later, you quoted Faust to me: "You are so beautiful, please stay a moment." Your voice was Shakespearean enough to give me goosebumps. I turned around to look at you, under the sunlight your teeth were white, and your smile was healthy. Then you took out a box of toothpaste and a bottle of shampoo from your backpack and said, "Buy them, they suit you well. I'll give you a discount."
My heart shattered into pieces. I'd misread the situation completely.
I gave you 27.5 yuan and bought two bottles of counterfeit shampoo that I never used. The reason I was fooled by you is because I saw the crumpled bread in your backpack, and I thought your life wasn't as optimistic as you appeared. Of course, I thought I wouldn't meet you again, so what did it matter being tricked once? This world is so big, the chance of meeting a stranger twice isn't very high.
But I met you again. The next day, you were at the stop of Route 235, holding up the 27.5-yuan bill like a conscience-stricken idiot. Later, I found out that all of this was just your plot, a pick-up line, a seduction, the initial form of love.
You played the part of the "distressed prince," and I played the "lady rescuer." On the day we held hands, it was sunny, blindingly bright, so much so that when you kissed me, I wasn't prepared.
Korla, overcast, minus four degrees.
Actually, I hadn't fallen in love with you yet. I just wanted to use the most despicable method to forget a man. This clumsy and clichéd method was that you fell into my trap, and I just needed the right opportunity. You had to be my man, attending the memorial service of my ex-boyfriend.
His name was Xu An, the kind of man who could make women go crazy with love. But he died, in a plane crash. He had a wife and child, and I didn't even have the qualifications to pretend to be widowed. That day, you stood beside me, unaware of the situation. Like everyone else, you thought I was just a regular colleague of his. That day, I was freezing, my teeth chattering. You draped your coat over me, which smelled of men's cologne. The scent started with cardamom and seaweed, and ended with musk and wood. My nerves were sensitive, and I said, "Your initial pick-up line was a small trick. You're rich, I think you're a coal boss or the offspring of one." You tapped my head, "Are only coal bosses rich?" I said, "Your pick-up tactics are despicable." You replied, "But they're sincere." Everyone looked at us, thinking we made such a perfect pair.
For a moment, I almost thought we had a future.
But I knew I was just borrowing you to send Xu An on his final journey, and also to let Xu An's wife know she slapped the wrong person. I never loved her husband, and this way, we would all feel better. Women are good at deceiving themselves. They can cry however they want without embellishing their sorrow. I bit my lip, my face covered with thick powder, and no one could tell I was pale as death. As I cried, she saw me, and the man beside me. She smiled at me, starting with regret and ending with triumph.
I pulled your arm tightly, and you caught my hand. Your hand was warm and dry, and I wasn't so cold anymore.
Korla, partly cloudy, minus two degrees.
A boring magazine said that there are three ways to forget someone. First: Send their belongings piece by piece to disaster areas. Second: Think of them once, and then slap yourself hard. Third: Find someone to replace them.
The first two didn't work, so you were my third method.
Then, I brought you to my house. You pointed at Xu An's picture on the bedside table and said, "Aren't you scared? Hope he comes back to visit you every night?" I glared at you. Ten minutes later, you shamelessly replaced it with your own picture. You said, "Cry all you want in your own home, no need to deceive yourself."
So I cried, screaming until you were alarmed. You cooked me a bowl of noodles, which smelled strange, but I ate it all with snot and tears. Like a pitiful cat, I curled up in your arms and slept soundly for the first time since Xu An left. In my daze, I heard you say, "Look how thin you've gotten. If you follow me, I'll fatten you up into a big white steamed bun, sturdy and filling..."
You didn't say you loved me, but I knew. Later, I asked you, "Why did you fall in love with me?" You rolled your eyes and said, "Because I like idiots."
I started to enjoy living with you, able to be completely carefree. Unlike with Xu An, I worried about his phone ringing, thought about his taste while cooking, wore clothes he liked, and performed to be the person he liked. So every time I asked you, "What kind of me do you like?" You always said, "There's deception and concealment in love, but don't perform, just be yourself." You looked like a relationship expert, I laughed at you, you hugged me and kissed me repeatedly.
Ultimately, I loved him a little more, and you loved me a little more, and this difference required us to overcome many obstacles to be together.
Korla, clear, zero degrees
On the day Xu An's wife came to our door, I wondered what we were doing. Probably you were planting potatoes in the white porcelain flowerpot on the balcony, two of them. You said, "One is me, one is you. When the potatoes are ready, if you agree, we'll get married."
If Xu An's wife hadn't come in, I might have agreed on the spot.
Xu An's wife came in and pointed her finger at me and scolded me. However, she was ultimately a well-bred woman, and the harshest thing she said was "vixen." The gist was that before Xu An died, he bought a personal accident insurance policy, and the beneficiary was me. I was stunned. I had always thought Xu An's love for me was limited to the hours between 6 PM and 10 PM.
Suddenly, the buried love for Xu An surged forth.
You came out from the balcony and shielded me, like a father protecting a child who had made a mistake. You said, "This man handled things quite reliably."
Ultimately, I declared I wouldn't take the money, and Xu An's wife left. Ten minutes later, she came back and handed me a USB drive, saying, "Let's call it a trade!"
On the USB drive was Xu An's diary. Every word was written for me. He said, "Falling in love with Mai Qian was on a roller coaster. She screamed and clung to me, her face pale. At that moment, I was incredibly happy. I hate myself for marrying another woman so early..."
At this point, you sourly remarked, "A low-class trick." I pushed you away, "But it was sincere." Once, I saw a cartoon where a giant panda went berserk shouting, "You people just want me to mate, mate! All I want is love!" I burst out laughing, pointing the cartoon at Xu An. He smiled and patted my head, saying, "Mai Qian, all I want is love too."
Thinking about this, tears fell drop by drop.
You had already returned to the balcony and silently planted your potatoes, each stroke heavy and forceful. You said, "How did love become a cover-up?"
You understand nothing! I told you to leave, to get as far away from me as possible. The reason I was angry with you was because you hit my sore spot. We indeed used love as a cover-up for the shameful extramarital affair.
Korla, light rain, five degrees
And you left.
While packing up things, you didn't say anything, and I restrained myself from looking at you. My eyes were glued to Xu An's ten-thousand-word love letter to me, utterly defeated.
The door slammed shut, and my heart inexplicably ached. Then I heard the door open again. You were coming back in. I secretly smiled. I knew you would probably shrug and inform me, "I'll give you another chance."
I thought I had you completely under control. We always toyed with and hurt those who love us.
But you came in, placed the key on the shoe cabinet, and said to me, "Take good care of my potatoes and yourself."
This time, you really left, possibly so far away that you couldn't return.
The first day, I neither ate nor drank, clutching the USB drive, crying and laughing.
The second day, I went to work as usual, putting Xu An's photo back up.
The seventh day, I began to miss you, missing the days when you cooked and I accompanied you, and when you washed dishes and I helped.
The thirtieth day, your potatoes grew into tiny seedlings. I fertilized and watered them, burning Xu An's photo.
The thirty-first day, I started looking for you.
I went to your house. It was a yard full of pink roses, with Yunxi weather. I peeked three times, walked back and forth five or six times, but I didn't have the courage to knock on the door. Could I knock and then shrug and say, "I've decided to give you another chance"? I couldn't bring myself to do such a stupid thing. Of course, I didn't see any trace of you outside the door either.
You were truly heartless.
When the potatoes reached the tuber formation period, you still hadn't returned. I went to your house again. The roses at the gate had withered, but a red wedding character was posted on the door, vulgar yet eye-catching. I was sure it was you, definitely you, who had no siblings.
I went home and turned on the computer, which I hadn't opened since you left, and logged into the only MSN account that belonged to you. There was a message from you:
"Still sitting in front of the computer all day watching your USB drive, huh? You peeked three times at my house, okay, I've decided to give you a chance. Come to my house this afternoon, peek one more time, and I'll introduce you to my parents. Mai Qian, will you come?"
This message was sent 57 days before I saw it.
Korla, overcast, seven degrees
Thus, I ran to your doorstep again and knocked on the door. A strange man stood inside. I said I was looking for Xu Ziqing. He said I had the wrong place, the whole family had moved to Korla, I had bought the house for my wedding, it had been a week.
From then on, across seas and mountains, I could no longer find you. And my only connection to you was the weather forecast of Korla, letting me know whether it was sunny or rainy where you were.
Not only did the white porcelain pot produce potatoes, but there was also a ring inside. Under the autumn sunlight, the ring gleamed brilliantly, scorching my eyes, and I cried uncontrollably.