Until her appearance.

It was a quiet afternoon, and I lay on my back on my bamboo chaise longue, which seemed as old as I was, so old that I squeaked and hummed at the slightest movement. Although I no longer put my hand on its armrest, the armrest has long since been polished.

My chaise longue is not placed in my room or in my own courtyard, but under an ancient tung tree in this ancient street park on the outskirts of Shanghai, facing a calm and fragrant lake. There are no lotus flowers in the lake, no pleasure boats, but there is a group of lively fountains, and a column of water rushes out of the middle of the spring with a foot of four or five meters, like the water column that the whale spouts out of the water, although I have never seen a whale or a whale spewing out of the water column, but I firmly believe in this, this metaphor has been in my mind for decades. Surrounded by ten small well-spaced springs, they formed a perfect circle like the stars and the moon, and the water gurgled upwards and made a cooing sound. I was lying less than five meters from the lake, with my eyes closed, but the lake scenery was clearly imprinted in my mind, and even the rhythm of the bubbles bulging from the spring I could clearly discern it.

Alas, I was tired, and this fountain should have been tired for decades, so I fell into a deep sleep.

When I became conscious again, I heard two young voices echoing in my ears. My stiff fingers still shook unconsciously, and I squeezed the shuttlecock made of brown chicken feathers in my hand.

Alas, it's too old to jump on my feet. I tried to go back to sleep again, but the two cheerful girls didn't seem to intend to be quiet for me, and I could hear our laughter, the sound of running footsteps, the sound of rushing gasps, and the sound of disgust, but I was immediately drowned out by laughter. I imagined the picture of us chasing and playing. I've seen so many fountains like this that I've been watching it for decades, so I don't feel new about it, and it's still gushing at a constant speed, unmoved. I knew it would never get enough of it, and I could hear the sound of the spring gushing clearly.

Then I couldn't hear the laughter, only the gurgling of the spring. I felt lonely for the first time in a long time, and I was a little frightened, and I mobilized all my nerves to pull the pair of drooping eyelids upward, making my eyes squint a slit. The rays of the sun have been completely obscured by the leaves overhead, and there are two smooth and soft faces in front of him.

The two pairs of curious eyes touched my gaze, visibly frightened, and my face immediately turned crimson. The tall girl with a ponytail took a step closer to me, pursed her lips and asked carefully, "Did we make you sleep?"

I watched our eyes flicker, trying to move the flabby facial muscles, I didn't know if that would make up a smile, but I did my best.

At this moment, the short-haired girl in the back flashed out and bent down to look at the shuttlecock in my hand. I seemed to be quite interested in it, and after looking at it for a while, I seemed to say to myself, "This shuttlecock is so special!" I winked at me and smiled.

"Is it!" I heard my own voice go down the bones of my head into my ears again, shaking my eardrums and making a hoarse sound. I distinctly remember that decades ago my voice was definitely not so deep, it sounded like a broken barrel. But there is no way, I am so old that I don't know why I have lived so long.

I mobilized the muscles of my face again to show a smile, and after the first experiment, I was sure that it was a smile, "It's very old, it seems like it followed me as soon as I was born!"

"Wow!" the two girls opened their mouths wide.

"Then it's eighty years old! Antique, maybe it can be auctioned!" the short-haired girl pinched her chin and muttered to herself, then looked up at me, presumably hoping for my approval.

I squeezed out a smile again and it was a tacit acquiescence, but I did remember that I had had many birthdays. But who cares.

"You must have played well when you were younger. The girl with the ponytail also came over.

When my thin fingers touched my cheeks, the already insensitive sense of touch made me feel the layers of wrinkles stacked on my dry skin. My hand trembled, and then slowly put it back.

"Ahh I have left too many memories in this ancient city, and it has swallowed up too many of my old people, and one day it will bury my old bones with its thick loess, so I may be a little happier.

"Ah!" exclaimed the two girls again, "Grandma, why are you crying?" I hurriedly raised my hand and wiped a handful of salty liquid from my face, and I was amazed that my dry eyeballs could still make such a luxury. My tears have long since dried up in Shanghai in the 70s, and they have become eternal memories with my departed relatives and friends.

Through the cloudy tears, I saw the apologetic faces of the two girls, "I just think of a few friends I haven't seen in a long time, I haven't seen you in a long time!"

"Then you must have a good relationship with them, they should be very old!"

"Yes, but they're all young, just like you, but living a completely different life than you. ”

The two girls were visibly attracted to me, and for the first time in a long time, I had a desire to talk.

The two girls came over and sat on the grass next to my chaise longue and stared at me with curious eyes, I knew what they were waiting for, so I tried to squeeze out a smile again, slowly looked up at the white clouds in the sky, and let it take my thoughts back to my youth, to the old Shanghai seventy years ago, to this ancient street park.

I don't know when the city of Shanghai became active, or if it has been around since ancient times, but it has been inadvertently left out of the annals. The streets and alleys of Shanghai are as busy as they are now. It's just that most of the cars at that time were rickshaws and bulky but extravagant classic cars of the rich and noble, and occasionally gendarmes drove through the main neighborhood in motorcycles called "iron donkeys".

The night view of this old city needs no description, and it is very straightforward to say that it is drunk with money. It is a great blessing for ordinary people like me, and it is a gift from God to be able to live a peaceful life, but is there peace here?

I live in a small attic in old Shanghai, and the stairs are so dilapidated that they sink down the middle as soon as you step on them, giving you the urge to lift your whole heart up to avoid falling. But it didn't sink until we moved out years later, and it floated with us and our old furniture.

The alley downstairs is very narrow and dark, on both sides are some courtyard walls made of blue bricks, and inside those walls are houses that have not been inhabited for a long time, only a few old trees can't bear the loneliness inside and peek out from the wall, making the gloomy alley even more gloomy. The road of the alley is paved with stone slabs, and it is very old, because most of the stone slabs have been smooth and rounded by the only dozen or so families. Occasionally, one or two pieces are uneven, and when it rains, there is water on it, and if you accidentally step on it, you will splash all over the muddy water. But usually the children next door like to step on the two ends to make seesaws and play, shaking quickly and laughing happily. However, the alley is too narrow for those vintage cars to enter, and rickshaws don't bother to take such roads.

There were a lot of crumbling buildings like ours in Huangpu in the thirties, but a little further down the city center there were many large courtyards and luxurious mansions. There lived people from the previous class, wealthy merchants and overseas Chinese travelers. Their classic cars are always parked in front of them, and there are hunting dogs in the yard that bark at the sight of people. The western-style buildings are tall and of different styles, and they are decorated like palaces.

The Huangpu River is also one of the most prosperous areas in Shanghai, where cargo ships from all over the country are berthed, and there are also camouflaged Japanese military ships docked. There are also a number of large warehouses built along the river, with small windows that sometimes open to access goods that are transported or transited through them.

In addition, these warehouses have another purpose, which is to serve as a place for negotiations. Because they are big enough and dark enough, and close to the dock where dragons and snakes are mixed, they give the family a certain amount of material comfort, and throw them into the Huangpu River to feed the fish, and the next day the river is still calm, as if nothing has happened. Although the wind on the Huangpu River was very refreshing, it was indeed a forbidden place for people in those days.

That year always felt very deep and heavy for me, and it seemed to encompass all the contents of my life, and until now I don't know whether I should rejoice or resent that I caught up with that era and caught up with that heavy year.

I entered the art department of a new women's university in Shanghai after my eighteenth birthday, and I was in time for a new era! It was in the autumn of that year that I met Masako, who was a year younger than me, or it was fate that we quickly integrated into each other's world and became inseparable friends. I often think that if it weren't for me, maybe my life would really be as pale as the midday sun, sleepy and lifeless.

Every morning, I would study my art textbook in my small dark room, and figure out some photographs of classic oil paintings from Europe, most of which were sent by Masako, and I would not have been able to get them on my terms. Since I was a child, I have been curious about the colorful world, I love the colorful colors, they give me life and hope. The realistic faces, flowers, and mountains in the oil paintings made me yearn for art, so I chose oil painting and decided to pour everything I had into this "no future" and "no use value".

I would indulge in its world and couldn't extricate myself, carefully examining every ray of sunlight and even every grain of dust in the picture, thinking about how I could use to create the same classic picture, until a crisp, loud, slightly coquettish voice sounded downstairs: "Zhuang Qianqian—" I woke up from my contemplation. It was Masako calling me, and I almost forgot that I had a nice name - Zhuang Qianqian!

Masako usually stretches the last word very long to get my attention, and I say, "You're so focused on oil painting, so focused that you almost ignore the whole world!" I chuckled and looked at me in confusion: "Aren't you the same for your sketches and ink paintings?" I smiled and turned my face to look out the window.

Whenever I heard Masako call me, I habitually looked up at the little shabby window, the sunlight was already shining in, and I was sure that it was a quarter past eight, so I grabbed my handbag and rushed downstairs. So with the creak of the stairs, the whole small building seemed to tremble rhythmically. I rushed downstairs to stand still, and I saw Masako from the alley standing there in a sky blue gown and a pure black skirt waving to me.

I rushed over and the two of us got into the brand-new black car parked behind me and talked and laughed and went to school. Ten minutes later we were at the school gate, and together we ran down the already silent path and headed straight for the classroom, just in time for the first class at half-past eight.

During the theory class, Masako always chose a seat by the window and sat there very quietly, which was a little different from what I usually saw. I had watched me closely, sometimes with my hands on the table, sitting in a very regular manner, sometimes with my left hand on the back of my chin on my hand. I sat behind me on the right side, unable to see my expression or eyes, but always felt like I was deserting. It's no wonder that it wasn't necessary for me to study, and if it weren't for the fact that I had the same passion for art as I did, I would have thought that I came to school to pass the boring time.

It's not unfounded. Masako's father was a wealthy businessman, owned a very good cloth trading house, and also took care of an eight-story office building in the main block of Huangpu, and more importantly, he took over one-third of the cargo hold along the Huangpu River.

In Huangpu and even the whole of Shanghai, no one dared to say a word about Liu Tianmao, he could be described as a powerful figure in Huangpu at that time. Because of the wealth on the white road, it almost has a monopoly on freight transportation, and because it is ruthless and hard enough on the underworld, it dominates one side.

Masako is the only daughter by his father's side, and naturally she also wants the wind to be windy and rainy. It is said that Masako also has an older brother and an older sister, but they are no longer there. I don't know exactly what this "gone" means, but Masako can get the favor of her parents anyway.

Although I was born in such a complex family, Masako gave me the feeling of peace and detachment, and did not give me any sense of oppression.

I often said that I didn't inherit my mother's beauty well, and I suspected that I was bragging, but after that meeting my mother, I had to admit that Masako was not exaggerating. My mother, as I would call Aunt Liu, was indeed a great beauty, with fine sideburns, curved eyebrows, dark eyes, a petite nose, and thin, slightly pale lips, all of which amazed me. I really doubt how God created such a face. I said, "One day I'm going to have to draw my aunt into my paintings!"

Then I smiled, the corners of my mouth and eyebrows were stretched, and I looked at her, although my face was a little haggard and my body was a little thin due to the years of suffering, but the elegance and luxury could not be stopped from overflowing from the corners of my eyes and eyebrows.

I was thrilled all afternoon, rejoicing as if I had found gold. I spent the whole afternoon in Masako's room that day, praising her mother over and over again, but Masako just laughed and didn't speak. Then I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window facing the garden and stared out of the window without moving. I leaned over to look at me, and I stood expressionless, as if the whole world didn't exist anymore. I looked at my face carefully, it was the first time I had seen me so closely, my skin was not very good, but my skin was surprisingly white, my eyebrows were slightly frowning as usual, and the eyes in my big eyes were frozen, I don't know if it was lost in time or space. I only saw my two lips, which were not thin or thick, but they were rosy and vivid, but I could not see the two wine swirls that usually loomed in my smile. A long hair that is not black and shiny but has a little golden luster pours down from the top of the head and is draped down in a natural bend, probably because the hair is relatively thin, so it looks particularly elegant and refined, revealing a temperament that is very similar to my mother, elegant and slightly melancholy.

I was amazed at the moment when a gust of wind blew in through the slightly open window, and I noticed that there was a sudden glint of tears in my eyes. I was startled, shook me and asked, "What's wrong?"

Masako seemed to have woken up from a big dream, and slowly turned her face, tears overflowed.

I panicked, and hurriedly wiped it for me with my hand: "What's wrong with you? Are you uncomfortable?" I was at a loss for a while, I only knew that the eldest lady was fond of playing tricks, but the Masako I knew shouldn't be that kind of unruly princess!

I sat her down at the table, and I leaned my head on top of me and whispered, "I'm fine, I just remember my sister." Then I raised my head, wiped away my tears, stared at me innocently with those big eyes that were still moist, and said very seriously: "Qianqian, do you know how beautiful my sister is? Everyone says that my mother and I are printed from the same mold, and I have inherited all the beauty and intelligence of my mother, do you believe it?"

I looked at me and nodded desperately, and I said, "I believe it!"

But my tears came down again: "But I haven't seen her for a long time, and I miss her so much." ”

I patted her and said, "I understand, I understand, you can cry if you want!"

Suddenly, I raised my head again, wiped away my tears very seriously, and said, "No, I can't cry, I swore five years ago that I would never cry again, I can't let my mother see it." As I entered the bathroom, I heard the sound of running water, and Masako came out two minutes later. The basin washed away my tears, but it couldn't wash away the bloodshot from my eyes.

I watched as I squeezed out a smile, and I saw my pair of shallow, almost non-existent swirls of wine.

I asked me, "Are you alright?"

I shook my head lightly and looked at me with a very solemn look full of begging: "Don't tell anyone that I cried!"

I looked at my bright eyes, my heart softened, there was a hot liquid swirling in my eyes, a girl with such a weak appearance had to hide all the intense emotions in her heart, and use another face to face everything in the outside world, including my parents, all the pain had to be borne by one person, what a huge pressure it was. I suddenly felt a strong sense of compassion for the girl in front of me who lived in a material paradise. But I knew that I couldn't cry, and the tears would make me unbearable to explode again, so I adjusted my mood and squeezed out a smile: "Of course not, I will keep it a secret." ”

After that, I went to say goodbye to Aunt Liu, and I was very enthusiastic about leaving me for dinner, although I really wanted to stay, but that day I accidentally broke into Masako's private world, so I had to leave and give everyone a chance to calm down, so I hurried downstairs to blame that there was something at home.

Masako's father had already returned, and was talking to his secretary in the study, and when I glanced in, he was a mediocre-looking man, slightly chubby but not bloated, but there was something cold between his eyebrows that made people dare not get close.

I got into Masako's car, driven by Uncle Yi, a full-time driver. He is very kind.,Always looking for a topic to talk to me about a few words.,Usually I talk to him very carefully.,But that day it was just a polite perfunctory sentence or two.,The thoughts were all about Masako's family.。 I was full of doubts about their lives, and I had a faint desire to explore.

The next day I still heard Masako calling me at a quarter past eight, and then we went to school as usual, and then left school.

Soon the alley downstairs of my house was covered with yellow leaves falling from the branches of the trees sticking out on both sides, but it was soon swept away by the cold wind and replaced by snow. Although Xue doesn't like to stay in Shanghai, a city close to the south, Masako and I are still happily trying to keep this holy beauty for a long time with our own paintings.

But after all, everything in the world has its fixed number, and the snow disappeared before the end of winter. Perhaps because of the moistening of the snow water, the lawn in Masako's garden was already a dazzling green in March.

On that quiet afternoon, Masako and I drove a special car from Uncle Yi to this street park as usual.

I spread my canvas by the lake, and I could feel the cool mist on my cheeks, and I had an indescribable feeling of comfort.

At that time, there was a set of stone tables and benches about five meters away from here, and Masako spread my rice paper on the stone table and carefully adjusted the color of the ink.

We've been staying by the lake so quietly, trying to show the fountains in front of us in the way we like. It took me a lot of effort to get the color right, to the kind of white that was slightly translucent blue, cold, and holy, and that's how this fountain made me feel on that day.

I observed very carefully and painted very carefully, but the surging water made it difficult for me to grasp, just like my slightly manic heart at that moment. So I applied it over and over again, and changed it over and over again, until I finally dropped the brush. I let out a heavy breath and looked down to see that the short white apron around my chest was already colorful. I took off my apron and quietly walked towards Masako, I stood behind the stone table, sometimes bending over the paper to paint, sometimes looking up at the group of springs, very attentive.