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墨書 Inktalez
I pulled Da Bao and asked where Father was. Da Bao said he was in Mother’s room. I ran excitedly toward Mother’s room.
As soon as I reached the door, I heard Mother crying. I pushed the door open, and what met my eyes were Mother’s swollen red eyes and Father’s lowered head in silence. Father was holding a boy’s hand, who looked older than me, around seven or eight years old, and appeared disheveled, looking no different from a street beggar.
When Mother saw me, she wiped her tears from her face and grabbed my hand. She said to Father: “Duan Anhou the Great General, you really are something. All these years, all you’ve done is fight wars. Marrying you feels like being a living widow. Now you bring back a son bigger than Ashi. Don’t you feel guilty towards us mother and son?”
Father glanced at me, then looked at Mother with eyes full of guilt and said, “Madam, I’m sorry.” He then took the boy and walked out.
Mother hugged me and cried loudly.
In the spring of the following year, Duan Anhou’s wife, the Zhou, passed away. I lost my mother. I was five years old that year.
I hated him. Duan Qinnan. But he seemed unaware of my hatred, seeking me day and night, bothering me.
I liked to eat Pear Blossom Pastry. He said he liked it too, snatching away what I bought and later buying me double portions at night. He claimed to enjoy what I bought, so eventually, I started buying two portions each time—one for me and one for him.
Later I realized he didn’t actually like Pear Blossom Pastry. It was too sweet and too greasy, but he would always buy it and leave it on the table uneaten until I came to eat it. I found he wasn’t so annoying after all.
When I was twelve, Father went off to war again. It was said that this time he would be gone for a long time—three to five years before returning.
The day Father left was my birthday; everyone was there to see him off, and no one remembered my birthday.
That night when I returned to my room, I buried my head under the covers and fell asleep. After a while, I felt someone tugging at my blanket. Startled, I kicked out my leg but that person caught me and held me tightly.
I felt him lift me up and place me on a stool. When he released me, I pulled off the cover over my head.
What came into view was Duan Qinnan ’s smiling face. I punched him in the chest lightly; he didn’t dodge but just laughed like a fool. I didn’t want to hit him hard.
He said he brought me a birthday gift and took it out from his pocket. I recognized it as a box from Daoxiangxuan, the shop where I often bought Pear Blossom Pastry.
Sure enough, he bought me Pear Blossom Pastry. He opened the box and stuffed a piece into my mouth, then happily ran out. When he came back, he was holding a bowl of noodles.
He said he made it himself, and I said I believed him, but it looked too ugly. He laughed and ruffled my hair, urging me to eat quickly.
The noodles were uneven, and the fried egg was burnt, dark as if it had fallen into a coal pit, with a few green vegetables floating on top. I couldn't help but laugh.
Although I found it unappealing, I still ate it all. In fact, it wasn't that bad; otherwise, why would I want to eat the noodles he made on my birthdays in the years to come?
When he saw I finished eating, he smiled and kissed my cheek. I wiped my face in disgust and smeared his saliva onto him, thinking to myself that I was no longer a child; how could he casually kiss me? It was really annoying.
He bent down and picked me up, placing me on the bed. He whispered in my ear, "Happy birthday, Ashi," and then walked out.
That night, I dreamed of him. He was the groom, and I was the bride. He held me close and gently blew in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He murmured, "Wife, my heart is set on you."
Then his lips brushed against my face and captured mine.
After that, he lifted me up and laid me on the bed, undressing me.
Finally, I woke up from the dream.
I sat up suddenly and patted my flushed cheeks. Thinking about the absurd dream from last night made me embarrassed as I burrowed under the covers. I wondered how I could dream of such things, especially with a man—my brother.
I realized that the blanket had been pulled off me; accompanied by a teasing voice was Duan Qinnan. He said, "Why are you still sleeping?"
I was startled, and so was he.
I saw him freeze for a moment before raising his hand to touch my head and muttering, "Why is your face so red? Do you have a fever? Are you feeling unwell?"
I swatted his hand away, not daring to look into his eyes. Pouting slightly, I said, "I'm fine; stop being so annoying like an old woman."
Seeing that I still had the energy to hit him made him feel relieved. I didn't dare look at him much; perhaps because of last night's ridiculous dream, I actually thought he looked quite handsome.
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