The afternoon in Xitang is languid. People sit in front of their houses sunbathing, and passing tourists hurry by without affecting Xitang’s mood. The afternoon sunlight warms everything, casting light and shadows through the misty corridor’s roof, outlining the contours of time. A small dog naps on the bamboo chair by the door. Lin Lan’s arrival disrupts its beautiful dream; it opens its drowsy eyes, seemingly giving her a slightly resentful glance before falling asleep again.
Boatmen row on the river, carrying excited tourists past, creating a leisurely atmosphere.
Afterwards, Lin Lan would often come to An Xiu’s tea house to drink tea, sitting for an entire morning or afternoon. She didn’t tell An Xiu her story, and An Xiu didn’t ask. An Feng, a boy a year younger than her, showed an unusually keen interest and always tried to probe for information, but she would cleverly change the subject, leaving An Feng feeling frustrated.
An Feng was a photographer who liked photography. At his repeated request, Lin Lan became the female lead in his photoshoot. One day, while taking a series of photos on a boat’s bow, Lin Lan lost her balance and fell into the water, unexpectedly swallowing several mouthfuls. When she surfaced, she saw An Feng cry out “Lin Lan!” and jump into the water, then quickly sink after a few flailing movements.
No way? He can’t swim? Lin Lan was dumbfounded and quickly swam to rescue him.
After struggling to climb back onto the boat, Lin Lan looked at her soaking wet self and the coughing, disheveled An Feng, and said irritably, “Can’t swim and still want to play hero?”
An Feng laughed, “At that moment, I wasn’t thinking – I just wanted to rescue you quickly…”
Lin Lan’s nose felt sour. She couldn’t help but think of Luo Xuan – if it were him, even if she fell into the sea, he would probably not be in such a hurry. A hint of bitterness crossed her heart.
The night in Xitang was very quiet. Lin Lan lay on the antique carved bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
