Dazzling

In early February, every household began stocking up for the New Year. The small county town had an even stronger festive atmosphere than the big cities. When Huang Mao and Pang Hu heard that Xing Wu and Qing Ye were going to the county to buy clothes, they completely missed the social cues and insisted on tagging along, suggesting they all shop together.

True to their reputation as two peas in a pod, Huang Mao and Pang Hu ended up liking the exact same style. Each bought a blue down jacket—one fat, one thin, they actually looked quite matched. Qing Ye picked out a white loop-pile coat. It was very affordable, yet looked warm and felt soft to the touch. However, Xing Wu clearly didn’t share her opinion. The moment he laid eyes on that coat, it screamed "Du Qiyan" to him—way too bulky.

Qing Ye smiled and said, “Let me try it on for you.”

She asked the shopkeeper for her size and slipped it on. Strangely enough, even though the coat was loose and puffy, it fit Qing Ye perfectly. Her fair, delicate features were nestled in a mass of fluffy white, making her look like an adorable snowman.

Xing Wu suppressed a grin and said, “Go ahead and buy it.”

He paid and turned to leave, but Qing Ye tugged at him. “You should buy one too.”

“I’m not a kid.” Huang Mao and Pang Hu exchanged glances, feeling inexplicably targeted.

He asked Qing Ye if she wanted to check out some imported snacks, mentioning a shop behind the mall—probably the only place in Anzi County that sold them. The moment Qing Ye heard "snacks," she was all for it.

And so, Xing Wu successfully diverted their attention and dropped the subject of buying clothes. But Qing Ye couldn’t shake the thought that he still didn’t have new clothes for the New Year. So, a few days before the holiday, she told Xing Wu she was going to Shi Min’s house but instead sneaked back to the county town to pick out a cool black overcoat for him. She thought it would look really handsome on someone with his build. For New Year’s, they could even coordinate—black and white, a perfect match. She planned to surprise him and give it to him on the morning of New Year’s Eve.

The folks at Zhazha Pavilion usually lived a carefree, laid-back life, but when it came to the New Year, they were all about tradition. It might be the only time of the year they took things seriously.

In the days leading up to the New Year, even though Xing Wu was home every day, he was never idle. Qing Ye watched him climb outside to clean the windows one moment and disassemble the range hood for cleaning the next. The pre-New Year deep cleaning had almost entirely fallen on Xing Wu’s shoulders. Li Lanfang had also tidied up Dazzle Island, but Xing Wu found her efforts so lacking that he simply shooed her off to play mahjong.

Qing Ye went downstairs to take a look and realized that after half a day of work, Li Lanfang’s cleaning had made almost no difference. For instance, the messy clutter hadn’t been organized at all—it had just been moved to a different spot and left just as messy. She couldn’t understand what the point was of Li Lanfang spending the whole morning shifting junk from the left side to the right.

What drove her even crazier was that Li Lanfang had used her ten-thousand-yuan Rimowa suitcase to dry salted fish. Well, now the suitcase reeked of fish, and she definitely couldn’t pack clothes in it anymore.

No wonder Xing Wu couldn’t stand it. He usually couldn’t be bothered to deal with Li Lanfang’s chaotic mess, but before the New Year, he’d step in and get everything in order.

Xing Wu’s grandmother had been acting strange these past few days, letting out occasional eerie cries from her room. Xing Wu had to check on her from time to time, so Qing Ye took a cloth and helped him wipe down the mirrors, one by one.When Xing Wu returned, Qing Ye had already finished everything. He froze for a moment before striding over to her, snatching the rag and tossing it aside. He gripped her hands, reddened from the cold, and said in a stern tone, "Don’t do this again. How will you write if you get chilblains?"

Qing Ye blinked and looked up at him. "I just thought you were too busy, and I don’t have much to review these days anyway."

Xing Wu gave a faint smile. "Really want to help?"

Qing Ye nodded.

"Then do my winter break homework for me."

"..."

Over the past six months, Qing Ye’s biological clock had become fixed. Even without an alarm, she woke up promptly at 5:30 every day, never sleeping past 6:30 even on weekends, as if a tightly wound spring in her heart never loosened.

Strangely, the day before New Year’s Eve, she slept until noon. Several times, she tried to wake up but was too drowsy to open her eyes. In her daze, she felt as if she were still at home—her home in Beijing. Half-asleep, she could hear her mother’s voice directing the servants to prepare the New Year’s Eve dinner. There were people going up and down the stairs, and her father asked her mother at her bedroom door, "Is Xiao Ye still asleep?"

Her mother laughed and said, "Your little lazybug is sleeping like a pig."

In her dream, Qing Ye’s lips curved into a slight smile. She struggled to open her eyes, to push open her bedroom door, to hug her parents and shout, "Happy New Year! Red envelopes, please!"

But when she finally broke free from the invisible shackles and opened her eyes, she saw the yellowish ceiling above, and in her peripheral vision, the floral-patterned curtain swaying gently. Outside, the sound of a three-wheeled motorcycle faded into the distance, accompanied by loud voices and the sound of someone spitting. For a moment, Qing Ye was disoriented, forgetting where she was.

As she came to her senses, the grief of losing her parents surged over her like a tidal wave, plunging her emotions to the depths.

Yet this despair was abruptly cut short by the cursing from downstairs. She could hear Li Lanfang spewing foul language incessantly. Everything was as usual, and she seemed to have grown accustomed to it.

By the time she dressed, washed up, and went downstairs, Li Lanfang’s cursing had miraculously not stopped—she hadn’t even paused for a drink. Qing Ye couldn’t help but think that if there were ever a cursing competition, Li Lanfang would undoubtedly take first place with her skills.

Xing Wu sat alone on the other side, smoking a cigarette, his brow slightly furrowed. When he saw Qing Ye coming downstairs, he glanced at her sideways and said, "Go eat."

Instead of heading straight to the backyard, Qing Ye poured herself a glass of water and listened for a while, gradually piecing together the reason for Li Lanfang’s tirade.

It seemed that Xing Wu’s father hadn’t returned for the New Year, and no one could reach him. Li Lanfang was cursing him to die outside, saying it would be a relief for everyone if he did.

Xing Wu slowly turned his gaze to the street outside. He remained indifferent to Li Lanfang’s cursing, showing neither expectation nor disappointment, as if she were ranting about a complete stranger.

He stubbed out his cigarette and went to the backyard to reheat the food for Qing Ye. Qing Ye muttered, "How did I sleep so late? Why didn’t you wake me?"

"You were sleeping so soundly, I couldn’t bear to disturb you. You don’t get enough sleep usually—catching up on rest isn’t a bad thing."Qing Ye thought again of that vivid dream she just had, of her mother speaking with her father right outside the room. The sensation that she could see her parents just by pushing open a door still lingered in her heart, causing her emotions to fluctuate wildly all day.

What made it even more frustrating was that her eyelid kept twitching nonstop, with no sign of letting up.

So during the meal, she suddenly looked up and stared at Xing Wu, who was sitting across from her, baffled: "What?"

"Look at my eye."

Xing Wu watched for a few seconds before suddenly bursting into laughter: "Why are you twitching?"

"...I don't know either."

In Qing Ye's memory, she had experienced such uncontrollable twitching twice before. The first time was right before her father took her to the hospital to see her mother for the last time. The second time was when Sun Shu suddenly came to her school to tell her that her father had been arrested.

So when Qing Ye's eyelid started twitching wildly again, she was utterly panicked and spent the entire afternoon restless and uneasy.

She even called Sun Shu and insisted he check on her father no matter what. She worried if something had happened to her father? Was he being bullied inside? Was he sick? The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became, and scenes from The Shawshank Redemption and Prison Break started popping into her head.

Since the next day was New Year's Eve, Sun Shu would need to involve a lawyer to visit her father. He didn't want to trouble people too much during the holiday, especially since there would be many more occasions to seek help after the New Year.

But unable to resist Qing Ye's persistent pleading, Sun Shu eventually asked a lawyer to make a visit. Before evening, he informed Qing Ye that her father was fine and had even asked the lawyer to relay a message: she must take good care of herself and wait for him to get out.

However, Qing Ye's frantically twitching eyelid didn't calm down after that phone call.

Xing Wu had watched her run up and down the stairs countless times, pacing like an ant on a hot pan all afternoon. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and told her to put on her coat so he could take her out for a walk.

Qing Ye even retorted, "Why go out for a walk?"

"You seem full of energy. I'll help you burn some off. Are you just excited about the New Year tomorrow?"

"..." Qing Ye couldn't explain her strange mood, so she just ran upstairs to put on her coat.

Xing Wu then grabbed his motorcycle keys, swung his leg over the bike, and waited for her at the door. Qing Ye changed into her fluffy coat, slung her small bag over her shoulder, and went downstairs.

Sure enough, once they left Dazzle Island, her uneasiness eased considerably. Sitting behind Xing Wu, they wandered aimlessly through the streets. As soon as they left Zhazha Pavilion, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her cheek against his back, and murmured, "Xing Wu."

"Hmm?"

"Xing Wu."

"Hmm."

"Xing Wu."

"..."

"I miss my mom..."

The sky was pale, as if thick clouds blocked the horizon, not a trace of blue in sight. As the sun set, even the faintest glimmer of light vanished from the earth without a trace.

Xing Wu finally stopped the motorcycle and turned to look at her, but Qing Ye just buried her face in his back, unusually quiet.

He got off the motorcycle and turned to face her: "So what do you want to do?"

Qing Ye buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled: "Just let me lean on you for a while. I can feel my mom's presence when I'm with you."

"..." Xing Wu looked down at her speechlessly, then helplessly patted her head.

"Why are you still acting like a child? Do you miss your mom so much you're about to cry?""I don't act like this in front of others."

Xing Wu fell silent. This time last year, she should have been at home in Beijing with both parents celebrating the Spring Festival together. Yet in just one year, everything had changed for her. None of the family who had accompanied her for years were by her side now—that feeling must be unbearable.

Xing Wu gently stroked the back of her head and said, "I'll take you somewhere."

Only then did Qing Ye finally rub her face against his chest and look up at him: "Where?"

"You'll know when we get there."

So Xing Wu started the motorcycle again, weaving through narrow, dimly lit streets until he brought Qing Ye to an alley she'd never seen before. At night, it was filled with stalls and crowded with people—all here to buy fireworks and firecrackers.

Qing Ye hadn't played with these things for many years. Her memories only went back to early childhood when her father would set off firecrackers with her during New Year celebrations. Later, when fireworks were banned, she never saw them again.

Xing Wu parked the motorcycle and led her by hand through the crowd. Many people had even driven from neighboring cities specifically to make purchases. The variety was overwhelming—all kinds of fireworks, skyrockets, and small firecrackers.

Xing Wu asked her, "What do you like? Let's buy plenty to set off tomorrow. Here we always light firecrackers before the New Year's Eve dinner."

So he directly picked up two rolls of those red long firecrackers, while Qing Ye became fascinated by the peculiar little novelties—butterfly-shaped ones, beetle-style ones. She kept curiously asking the vendor what each one would look like when ignited.

The vendor told her these were five yuan each, suggesting she pick one of each type to try, claiming they were all absolutely beautiful.

Excitedly, Qing Ye grabbed a plastic bag and began selecting, while Xing Wu went straight to another stall, squatting down to negotiate prices with that vendor.

Soon he returned carrying a large box, paying for all the small items Qing Ye had chosen. Qing Ye asked him what he'd bought.

He smiled and said, "Guess."

Qing Ye, holding her plastic bag, kept straining to peek into the box. But Xing Wu was too tall—even when she jumped, she couldn't see inside the box he carried on his shoulder. Frustrated, she pleaded, "Just let me see."

Xing Wu simply couldn't handle it when she spoke like this—that coquettish tone. He'd recently discovered this was damn well his weakness. Clearly, Qing Ye had noticed too, now deploying this tactic whenever things didn't go her way, leaving him completely helpless.

He brought the box down and gave her a quick glimpse. Qing Ye's mouth immediately formed an "O": "Are these the kind that bloom in the sky? You actually have these for sale here?"

Xing Wu replied with a half-smile, "Exactly what you won't find in big cities—only our kind of small towns dare sell these."

Qing Ye was thrilled, walking backward in front of Xing Wu: "Are they expensive?"

"Not cheap."

"If they're not cheap, why did you buy them?"

"I need to make some investment to leave you with memories of me, so you won't forget me later."

He was still smiling, that incorrigible look about him, but Qing Ye suddenly stopped in front of him, standing on tiptoe to bite his lip as she looked up at him: "You know I wouldn't."

Xing Wu raised an eyebrow, his voice rumbling in his throat: "My lips that fragrant? Why not just bite one off to take with you?"

A young couple with children nearby were watching them with amusement. Catching them in his peripheral vision, Xing Wu told her, "The people beside us are laughing at you."Qing Ye immediately released him, flustered as she glanced to the side. When she saw the mother covering her three-year-old son’s eyes, her face flushed crimson all the way to her ears. Clutching the plastic bag, she hurried forward without daring to look back.

After just a few steps, she suddenly stopped again, staring at the ice cream machine by the street. Xing Wu wrapped an arm around her shoulder and said domineeringly, "Don’t even think about it."

But Qing Ye stubbornly refused to move, giving him her pitiful puppy-dog eyes as she insisted, "Just one bite. I don’t care—if you don’t let me have it, I won’t go back with you."

Xing Wu was both exasperated and amused by her shameless act. "Fine then. Stay here. I’m heading back first. Call me if you need anything."

With that, he turned to leave, but Qing Ye immediately clung to his arm, protesting indignantly, "You’re mistreating me! You don’t treat me well, you don’t care about me. You won’t even buy me a two-yuan ice cream—so stingy and petty! I’m going to post about this on social media!"

Xing Wu sighed helplessly, freeing his arm and pulling her close by the neck. "Oh, you’ve got some nerve now. What if your stomach hurts again tonight?"

"You can hold me while I sleep."

Xing Wu chuckled, realizing he truly had no way to deal with her.

So Xing Wu crouched by the motorcycle and lit a cigarette, while Qing Ye happily rummaged through the plastic bag with her ice cream in hand. She pulled out a small butterfly firework and handed it to Xing Wu. He used his cigarette to light it and tossed it aside. The butterfly immediately spun in place, emitting a circle of colorful sparks with a crackling sound.

He turned to look at Qing Ye. Like a child, she was hopping around gleefully with her ice cream. The brilliant light reflected on her fair face, as if she herself had been set ablaze—radiant and captivating. She watched the fireworks, while Xing Wu watched her, and they both couldn’t help but smile.

Once the firework died out, the little butterfly turned into a charred lump. Qing Ye dug through the plastic bag again and pulled out a dragonfly firework, handing it to Xing Wu. He lit it for her once more. As the sparks flared, her large eyes instantly lit up with life. Strangely, it reminded Xing Wu of the fairy tale "The Little Match Girl," who could only see her mother through the fleeting flames before darkness swallowed her again.

So Qing Ye kept handing him fireworks to light, but each one lasted only a brief ten seconds or so. Eventually, he stopped taking them and said to her, "Are you sure you want to set them all off before the New Year’s even here?"

Only then did Qing Ye remember and hurriedly stash the fireworks back into the bag. She crouched in front of him, pointing at the Little Angel on his motorcycle. "I’ve actually been meaning to ask you—why did you stick a Doraemon on your motorcycle?"

Xing Wu stubbed out his cigarette, exhaled the smoke to the side, and said with a distant look in his eyes, "I didn’t put it there. One time, as I was about to head out, I saw my grandmother crouching by the bike. I didn’t call out to her but crouched beside her and asked what she was doing. She told me, ‘My grandson loves Doraemon the most.’ By then, she had long stopped recognizing people, but she could still remember how much I loved Doraemon as a child. It felt kind of miraculous, so I never peeled it off."

Qing Ye couldn’t help but recall her first day in Zhazha Pavilion, when she saw a tall boy with a Blue Fatty sticker on his motorcycle and had scoffed disdainfully. Little did she know the heartbreaking story behind that decal.Every time Qing Ye heard Xing Wu talk about his grandmother, she would feel a sense of melancholy. From his fragmented descriptions, she could always picture a mischievous little boy—disobedient, causing trouble everywhere, giving his family headaches and making his parents angry. Yet only his grandmother repeatedly embraced him, accompanied him, and guided him through the changing seasons. But when he finally grew up, no longer mischievous, becoming sensible and capable, his grandmother no longer recognized him. This feeling was undeniably heartbreaking.

She lowered her head and finished her ice cream. Xing Wu, noticing the enticing white traces at the corner of her lips, suddenly leaned in, capturing her lips and gently sweeping away the ice cream with the tip of his tongue. He then ruffled her hair and said, "Let's go home."

On the way back, Xing Wu rode slowly, afraid the wind might be too biting. He told Qing Ye to put her hands in his jacket pockets. The warmth made her drowsy, and she leaned against his back, closing her eyes as she said to him, "Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad to just stay here and live my life with you—being waited on hand and foot. Life doesn't need to be more than this."

Xing Wu chuckled and replied, "You're getting lazy."

"Yeah, I've decided to indulge myself during the New Year holiday—no studying, no practice problems, just pure fun."

"As long as you're happy."

"Xing Wu."

"Hmm?"

"Xing Wu."

"Hmm."

"Xing Wu."

"...Are you missing your mom again?"

"I want to sleep."

"Don't sleep, you'll catch a chill. We're almost at Zhazha Pavilion."

As soon as he finished speaking, a fire truck suddenly sped down the distant street. Qing Ye lifted her head to look and remarked curiously, "It's the New Year—could someone's house be on fire?"

"Who knows."

Then two fire trucks swiftly turned onto the street, heading straight for Zhazha Pavilion. Both Xing Wu and Qing Ye were stunned.

Qing Ye urged him, "Hurry back and see—could it be someone we know?"

At the same time, Xing Wu had already accelerated. Just as they passed a small shop at the street corner, the blazing flames lit up the pitch-black night, illuminating crowds of Zhazha Pavilion neighbors standing on both sides of the street.

Someone spotted Xing Wu returning and shouted at him, "It's bad, Wu! Your house is on fire!"

Qing Ye and Xing Wu simultaneously saw their familiar home engulfed in flames, thick smoke billowing like a scene from hell.