Prologue.
The Ling family's car is parked outside the gate, without any flowers on the roof or the auspicious Chinese characters on the windows. It looks like a sedan from the old society used to pick up concubines, quietly coming and quietly leaving. It doesn't even attract the surprise of the neighbors around, wondering why a luxury car is parked at my doorstep.
I know, it must not be for me.
Two bows, lift your head. I saw the red envelope tightly held in my mother's hand, not thin, enough to cover the tuition for Yeye's first year of college and the subsequent treatment expenses for her heart disease. My mother said she would go to the county bank the day after tomorrow to deposit it for Yeye. I helped her write Yeye's account number on the back of the envelope, deliberately making each digit large, so it looks a bit distorted when viewed from below. My mother's eyesight has deteriorated a lot in recent years, probably from crying too much at night, hurting her eyes. I just don't know if she's crying for my father or for Yeye.
Early in the morning, my father entrusted someone to deliver a letter. He and that woman will attend my "wedding" and be honored guests at the Ling family banquet. As for my mother, she can only bid me farewell at home.
Three bows, lift up the head, and finally take a look at the family who gave birth to and raised me. We are not wealthy, and our home is not spacious. According to hetushu.com, there may not be a large bedroom that I desire to go to, but behind this door, there are memories of me playing and laughing with Yeye. In this kitchen, there are images of my father and mother supporting each other. Everything here is my last attachment. When I wake up tomorrow, I am afraid that I will already be in another place...
I once took a red velvet flower and carefully pinned it to my mother's ear with a clip. Then I lowered my eyes and gently patted her back a few times.
Today, my mother dressed up exceptionally well. Her new jacket was stiff and hung straight down when she walked, without the corners of her clothes moving at all. She rarely takes care of herself, but today she even used Baihua brand hair oil to comb her white temples. On her feet were embossed black cloth shoes, which I bought for her after the end of the Yeye College Entrance Examination.
Who can imagine that in a quiet and ancient town in the 21st century, there would still be a family living with one husband and two wives on the same street for over a decade? The family went from initial chaos and turmoil to gradually becoming clear-headed, from a time of prosperity to the current hardships and difficulties, all stemming from a certain affair of the father.
In the early morning, the twilight shrouds my doorstep. On the winding path, which is filled with cool air, a few villagers who are selling their own vegetables are squatting sparsely. Occasionally, a large yellow dog without an owner can be seen leisurely passing by with a bell ringing.
Bow once, then lift my head. I saw on the ebony table high snacks and fruits with colorful packaging printed with a series of letters that my mother did not recognize. These were supposed to be delivered by the man who was supposed to take me away, but he was said to be too busy to come and pick me up, so someone else put them on my mother's desk instead.
It is my dowry money.
Very quiet. It feels as if today is just a recurring fragment in this small town for hundreds of years. Often, such fragments are difficult to be remembered by people.
Perhaps time has not healed the pain in her heart from being abandoned by her father. She cannot learn to forget because she finds it hard to let go. Only one person can heal such wounds, and all I can do is bow and bid her farewell before I leave.
My mother said that if it weren't for arranging my departure, she wouldn't even want to hear any news about my father. When she speaks, she occasionally lifts her eyelids and looks towards the front door, just like when she used to wait for my father to come home from work with eager anticipation.
Someone gave me a cushion as a gift. I knelt down, placed my hands beside my ears, leaned forward, touched my forehead to the blue stone, and bid farewell with utmost sincerity.