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墨書 Inktalez
When He Shuning finished her shower and changed into her pajamas, Mimi was already in the kitchen preparing ingredients to start cooking.
“Mimi, where did you get the clay pot?” She held a wine glass filled with an unknown bottle of red wine from her wine rack. Mimi didn’t understand wine; she only knew that the expensive ones were good, and there were no cheap bottles on her rack.
“Oh, Uncle Wang borrowed it from a hotel restaurant. Uncle Wang said since we rarely have clay pot rice noodles, we should make it a bit more authentic and not too casual.” Mimi, wearing a light pink apron, was still holding a ladle.
“Uncle Wang is really thoughtful. Being part of Uncle Wang's family must be very happy.” Her voice was soft, so soft that it seemed to barely catch the shadows.
“Huh? What did you say?” Mimi didn’t hear her next words clearly. After a pause without receiving an answer, she turned to look at her and saw He Shuning wearing a white silk robe, her hair still damp and wrapped in a towel. There was no makeup on her face, and to Mimi, she looked like a freshly peeled lychee, with the most eye-catching thing being the wine still swaying in her hand.
He Shuning looked at herself, slightly raised her head to take a sip, then gestured with her glass towards Mimi.
“Sister Ning, I don’t drink.” Mimi hurriedly waved her hand, causing the ladle in her grip to shake and splatter soup everywhere, which startled her into turning back to focus on the bowl of rice noodles.
The room was filled with a faint scent of bluebell shower gel and the increasingly warming aroma of sour soup rice noodles, as if two completely different styles of people were embracing each other, creating an indescribable odd atmosphere around them.
For a moment, it became quiet, with only the bubbling sound of the sour soup in the clay pot.
“Mimi, do you have someone you suddenly like?” The earlier silence allowed Mimi to clearly hear He Shuning’s voice. She shook the wine glass in her hand, tilted her head, and with bright eyes seemed to recall something as she stared at the red wine in the glass, watching the light refract through the liquid onto the glass.
Mimi felt somewhat surprised; it was the first time she had heard Sister Ning ask about matters of the heart.
No matter how many rumors the outside world concocted or how many invisible boyfriends were suggested, she knew clearly that Sister Ning had always been alone. She kept everyone at a distance, and no one was special to her.
Mimi sometimes felt the low emotions that occasionally surrounded her, or when she saw Sister Ning quietly sitting by herself, she would think about how nice it would be if someone were by her side at that moment. Would it make her a little happier? At least not sad, a sadness that even Mimi could feel.
So, when she heard Sister Ning speak, she momentarily froze, her stirring spoon pausing mid-motion.
Perhaps He Shuning thought her voice had gone unheard by Mimi. After a moment of contemplation, she spoke again, her tone more serious than before. It seemed she was eager for an answer.
"Or do you ever think of someone special? You know, someone you find yourself recalling from time to time?"
"Is there?"
"Huh?" Mimi turned around to look at He Shuning, who was leaning against one side of the sofa. The kitchen was open-plan, and the living room's lighting was designed with multiple layers, casting gentle shadows. He Shuning stood in the brightest spot, and Mimi could clearly see her eyes—those cool depths shimmering with something different. Suddenly, Mimi felt a rush of happiness.
She quickly turned off the stove and dashed over to He Shuning.
"Sister Ning, have you met someone?"
He Shuning looked at the girl who had suddenly come so close and felt a twinge of regret for having spoken up. She found herself at a loss for words.
"Sister Ning, Sister Ning, just tell me," Mimi urged, her eyes sparkling with an uncontrollable excitement as she tilted her head eagerly.
Mimi was indeed a bit anxious, but the other party did not rush to speak. Instead, they leisurely took a sip of red wine and unconsciously glanced out at the dazzling lights outside, as if searching their mind for how to respond or reminiscing about something.
Then, finally, they spoke up, their voice soft and slow, as if talking to themselves.
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