Volume 1 Chaos Comes Chapter 4: Center Stage
After getting Ai Bishui's contact information, I never dared to contact her. When I found problems while reading articles, I would look them up in books myself or directly email the teacher to ask.
Two days later, when the final grades came out, I found out that she got A's in all her subjects, except for the table tennis class she took as an elective. In theory, grades should be kept confidential, but it's not difficult to find out someone's GPA.
On the morning of the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, I walked through the sparsely populated campus and into the equally empty library as usual, preparing to find a seat near the heater to sit down and read an article.
I walked through the entrance hall and the tall stone pillars standing on both sides, passed the lounge area with all kinds of oddly shaped sofas, climbed a flight of stairs and pushed open the door of the corridor. What came into view was a pure black Steinway piano and a girl who was playing it.
Normally, playing this precious piano, which is as expensive as a Mercedes-Benz car, requires a very complicated reservation process. Now, perhaps because it is the New Year holiday and all the staff have gone home, the girl was able to take advantage of the opportunity.
The piano and its accompanying seat are placed on a granite platform about ten centimeters high. The platform is located in the center of the hall connecting the stairwell and the reading rooms on the east and west sides of the second floor. It is also the geometric center of the library's floor plan.
There is a row of windows at a height of one person above the hall. The sunlight pouring down at this time in the morning shines right on the piano and the person playing it, creating the same effect as a stage spotlight.
I was guided by this beam of sunlight to look at her: delicate skin, bright and delicate facial features, hair with a metallic luster, fingertips dancing on the piano keys, a white knitted sweater wrapped around the slender curves of her body, and the softest part slightly rising and falling with the rhythm.
These images and music are mixed together to bring a certain dose of sensory impact to people.
I remember when I was a freshman, there was a freshman performance, and Ai Bishui seemed to have participated in a piano and violin ensemble. Thinking of this, I tried hard to recall how she looked in an evening gown at that time.
After she finished the song, she paused for a moment, glanced at me from the corner of her eye, and gave a slightly embarrassed smile.
"This is...'Dance to the death', right?" I remembered the name of this song, as if it tells a story about finding hope in endless darkness.
"You actually know my name, I can't even remember it." She picked up a large down jacket from the hanger next to her and shook it gently. It was the one she wore when they first met. "Are you here to study in the library? You're still so curly even though the New Year is almost here."
"Ah... that paper has too many references. I haven't finished reading it yet... and there are still many things I don't understand."
In fact, due to the length limit of PRL, the main text of the article is not long. However, if you want to truly understand the entire content, you must read most of the references and several articles previously published on PRE that explain the details.
"Is that so? Is there anything you want to discuss? I've read it all."
We walked into the empty reading room together, found a corner and sat down, discussing in a low voice the places that we had previously marked on the article.
It was called a discussion, but in fact she just used a few sentences to answer questions that I had been thinking about for a long time, which also made me increasingly doubt whether I was not suitable for studying physics.
When I was young, the mornings always slipped away without me noticing. The three hours from nine to twelve were much shorter than the three hours from three to six, especially in the library. When the sun was no longer shining directly on the window, I mustered up the courage to invite her to lunch in a very cheesy way: "Well... today is Xiaonian, do you want to go out for some dumplings together? It's already noon..."
Where do you usually go when you invite a girl to dinner? The first option that pops into my mind is probably a high-end restaurant on the beach or on the roof of a skyscraper, followed by a Western steakhouse or some stylish small restaurant, and then hot pot or pizza. In my world of thought, almond milk and dumplings are two concepts that will never be connected, so I already assumed that I would be rejected before asking the question.
As for why I didn’t ask the places mentioned above, one is that I had no money, and two is to leave some wiggle room for myself.
Leaving some wiggle room is like buying a lottery ticket. Even though you know you can't win, you can buy a cheaper one to give up hope. If I really bet all my money, it's impossible.
Of course, I don’t have any money.
"Oh, actually we don't eat dumplings during the Little New Year."
"Ah, sorry, can I ask where you are from?"
The failure was expected, but it was due to unexpected reasons. Thinking of this, I suddenly realized that the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month seemed to be just the Little New Year in the north, and maybe her Little New Year was not today at all.
"I'm from Chengdu. Actually... I don't quite remember if there is anything special to eat during the Little New Year in our area. I think I went to Chunxi Road for a walk around this time last year."
She pinched her chin and thought for a while. I saw news online before that Chunxi Road would hold a lantern festival or something.
"During the Chinese New Year, we will buy some sausages and bacon, and then we will go to the Wuhou Temple on the first day of the first lunar month. There will be a big temple fair there, and there will be all kinds of snacks... Chengdu has a lot of delicious food besides dumplings. If you have time, you can go and have a look."
"Well, okay... In that case, I'll go back first..."
As I said that, I stood up and started packing my schoolbag.
"I'm a little curious. What kind of dumplings do people usually eat during the Chinese New Year in the north? I've eaten red oil dumplings at home. They should be different."
As she spoke, she played with her hair, the black threads flowing through her fingers like water.
"There are all kinds of them... Spanish mackerel, three fresh delicacies, mutton... The North is actually very big, and the customs in different places are probably different."
"What is fish pulling? Can fish be used to make dumplings?"
Huh? Is it strange that fish can be used to make dumplings?
"It's... a kind of shallow sea fish. It has a lot of fat and firm meat. It doesn't have many bones, so it can be used to make dumplings."
I found some pictures of Spanish mackerel on my phone and handed them to her. The spindle-shaped fish with bright blue spots looked kind of cool.
"In my hometown, during the Chinese New Year, we mix the Spanish mackerel meat and fat together, add some green onions, leeks and sesame oil to make the stuffing. It's still very fresh after being made into dumplings." I couldn't help but stir.
Having said that, I swallowed. Since she refused me, I might as well go eat something by myself. I haven’t been there for a long time.
"How amazing! Is there a place near here where I can eat Spanish mackerel dumplings? I want to try some of them, too."
I still can't forget how I felt at that time. It was a wonderful feeling that was a mixture of surprise, trance and relief.
You can check if there is a temple for the chef who invented the Spanish mackerel dumplings, and then go home to pay homage to him.
