Song Qing took the little branch stick that had been cut off, and from the beginning, cut it into small pieces, small fragments, and buried them into the soil.
After the branch head rots, it nourishes the soil. If the soil is well nurtured, the flower will naturally grow better and better.
Usually when cooking, the leftover eggshells are crushed, eaten fruit peels, cleaned fish intestines and fish organs, etc., all can be used. Avoid smells that attract mosquitoes and bugs. Raw items like that should be buried deeper, branches and leaves on the top.
Nan Zhi saw, searched on him, found a few cat hairs stuck on his clothes, and plucked them off for him.
Song Qing started wiping the dust off the leaves. The window on the balcony was opened for ventilation, so there would be dust. He wiped every two days; today just happened to be the second day.
Nan Zhi looked at him again, searched with difficulty, pulled the two hoodie strings on his sweatshirt to be the same length, then properly placed them in front of him.
Song Qing finally realized something was off, stopped and looked at her, “What’s wrong?”
Nan Zhi: “Nothing.”
Just saw how attentively he was taking care of his own flowers, so she also hugged Buddha’s feet at the last moment [临时抱佛脚 – doing something at the last minute, often without preparation], fiddling a bit with her own flowers.
Speaking of which, the flowers Song Qing raises don’t move nor respond to him, not as good as the ones she raises. Hers will even cook for her, lower his head to let her put her hands at the back of his neck to warm them.
Nan Zhi continued to place her hand inside his hoodie. This person didn’t give a single opinion, didn’t even move his body, as if he was used to it. Or maybe it was something he had decided himself—
To let her warm them the whole time.
So she really did leave her hand in there the whole time. Doing good things really does bring good rewards.
I’ve been doing good and accumulating virtue all these years. This is the fortune I deserve.
Nan Zhi was in a great mood, unconsciously humming a song from her mouth.
Song Qing heard it, turned back to look at her a bit confused, not really understanding what she experienced, how her mood suddenly turned so good?
He stared at the person behind for a while but couldn’t figure out why. But of course, that didn’t stop him from being happy for her.
A good mood is, of course, the best.
Song Qing continued fiddling with the flowers and plants. Behind him, Nan Zhi half-leaned on his shoulder watching, with a good half of her weight pressing on him. She was very, very close. So close that the loose strands of hair on both sides of her head drooped onto his neck. Blown by the outside wind, they kept swaying and tickled his neck badly.
But he didn’t remind her, nor did he move away. Let that strand of hair sweep over his neck for a long time, all the way until all the flower leaves were wiped clean.
After the care was finished, Nan Zhi also pulled away. What left with her was also her weight and the warmth of her body, along with that strand of hair.
Song Qing pursed his lips. Just as he put down the cloth, Nan Zhi was already pushing his wheelchair, opening the door and letting him go first. She stayed behind to prevent the cat still in punishment from running out. But the wheelchair was too big and too clumsy, not as agile as a cat. The cat still darted out from under the wheelchair.
But only the white cat did. The black cat didn’t. The black cat was a bit quieter than the white one.
The white cat’s temper was a bit worse. Sometimes it would cry out in the middle of the night, cry once after a while, then again after another while—made it hard for people to sleep.
She’d looked it up on purpose. It’s said to be calling out, wanting to call cat mama to come save it.
Because of this, Nan Zhi had suffered quite a bit. She already had neurasthenia \[神经衰弱: a traditional diagnosis in Chinese medicine, often referring to insomnia, anxiety, and general nervous weakness] and didn’t sleep well. After the cat came, it became even harder to fall asleep.
She had asked Song Qing. Song Qing didn’t even know the cat cried at night.
Nan Zhi: “……”
The only person who suffered was her.
Song Qing’s sleep quality made her extremely envious. When could she also sleep so well, ah?
Nan Zhi thought this as she caught the white cat that darted in.
Maybe the one who pooped on the sofa was also it. To prevent it from doing it again, plus it crying at night really wasn’t friendly to her, Nan Zhi caught it back, closed the glass door tightly, checked everything else too, and only when confirming there were no gaps did she let out a sigh of relief.
After saying good night to Song Qing, Nan Zhi took her tablet and went upstairs. She didn’t sleep yet. She rushed a bit more of the draft, wrapped up the end, sent the drawing to the buyer, then washed up and lay on the bed, starting to scroll through aquascaping, fish and such.
She really liked these things. Maybe it was due to her grandma’s influence. Grandma also loved raising flowers, raising fish, and growing vegetables. Back then, in the courtyard, there was a fish pond — dug by someone Grandma hired — and she raised a few very big koi fish. They were like they could understand human language. Every time before feeding, Grandma would call out once and they would come out.
She also really liked lying by the fish pond, stroking the fish’s smooth, membrane-like body surface.
After Grandma passed, she couldn’t take those few fish with her, so she gave them to an uncle who also loved raising fish — and who had long coveted Grandma’s koi.
She only left after managing all the living things at home. The delicate flowers were also given to the uncle. Some that didn’t need care were left in the courtyard.
Actually, compared to here, she still more wanted to go back and live in her old home. Just that she didn’t dare be alone. Her house was at the very end of the row, and behind the house was a patch of wasteland and forest.
According to the old folks, it used to be farmland, but later due to environmental protection requirements and green coverage rates, planting was no longer allowed. Now it was overgrown with weeds and large parasol trees, as well as small grave mounds one after another.
In the past, when people died, they were buried in the fields. The fields couldn’t be planted anymore, but the graves still remained.
In short, beat her to death and she still wouldn’t dare live there alone.
But now…
If one day she resigns, she would definitely take him back to her hometown. Not to say anything else — just as decoration would already bring her peace of mind, not to mention he wasn’t just a vase. [“不是花瓶”: not just a pretty face or a useless decoration]
Before, when she was alone, her own condition wasn’t that good. Raising cats and flowers, it felt like too much pressure on herself, afraid she couldn’t manage it all. Now with Song Qing here, there was nothing to be afraid of.
Nan Zhi placed an order for a fish tank, and some little decorative items for aquascaping, and also fish.
After buying them, she fell into dreamland in satisfaction.
—
Downstairs, Song Qing ended his handicraft work early today and turned on the computer that had always been placed across from the bed.
This computer — Nan Zhi had said before — he could use however he liked. She had one upstairs and didn’t need this one. She also sent over a lot of materials from the computer upstairs using a transfer app, then moved them to this computer, wanting him to see them.
Knowing that he was studying related things, she gave him enough space and support to empower him.
The bookshelf had more and more books about computers now — all bought by her.
She herself couldn’t read these, but she bought them for him.
Song Qing didn’t know how to thank her — only studied even harder, more diligently. After reading the books for a few days, there were many things he couldn’t wait to test.
He held the book in one hand, operated the computer with the other. After discovering that most things could be implemented — only a small part may differ due to software updates — his eyes gradually lit up.
At 11:30 at night, the light upstairs was already off, but he still hadn’t gone to sleep. Afraid of disturbing Nan Zhi, he tightly closed the little living room’s glass door. The keyboard tapping became faster and faster.
He knew how to use a computer. At Uncle and Auntie’s house there was one. Their daughter claimed she needed it for doing homework, so they bought one. But Uncle and Auntie were unwilling to spend money, so they got a used one from the second-hand market. It often lagged, crashed — other family members couldn’t do anything with it.
The one her uncle and aunt’s daughter broke and wanted to fix, but didn’t have money to, plus the phone was faster than the computer, so most of the time she still played on her phone. Only he often used that computer.
He worked for free at a nearby computer shop, learned how to repair, because he needed to use it for papers and group assignments.
Even though it was indeed old and laggy, as long as you knew how to use it, it was still usable.
When it lagged, he didn’t rush. He’d hold a cup of water and drink slowly, waiting for it to recover.
This computer of Nan Zhi’s was very good and very smooth. With no lag, he was actually a bit unaccustomed, and would deliberately pause, take it as a chance to drink some water.
Song Qing paused again, hand touching the cup, and noticed something different.
Nan Zhi didn’t know when she bought it, but she had changed the cup sleeve for him again. Before it was a little bear, now it was a little white rabbit, with two little ears.
Song Qing lifted the cup and carefully looked at the little white rabbit on it. Except for the ear and outline parts being a bit tricky, the mouth and nose were stitched on separately with thread.
He could knit this too.
Song Qing twisted open the bottle cap and took a sip. The water was different from before too—not plain boiled water—it had dampness-expelling tea in it.
The taste was mild, pretty good, and also Nan Zhi’s.
She had watched a video yesterday: [“After decluttering, how empty my home became. People really don’t need that many things.”]
Something like that. So she got inspired, and in the middle of the night tidied up a cardboard box of discarded items—there were bags, headbands, face masks, and all sorts of messy things bought on impulse.
Including this damp-expelling tea. Heard people say that most people have dampness in their body, so she placed an order for a box. But after only drinking a few packets, she bought corn silk tea, which was also said to expel dampness.
Then a few days later, black rice tea, wheat tea, all kinds of things that she ended up barely touching. She didn’t like drinking tea.
Left for a long time, taking up space, she had planned to throw them away. It was too late last night, so she put the box by the door in the morning, planning to toss it. He felt there were some things inside still usable, so he kept part of it.
The damp-expelling tea and all sorts of tea actually hadn’t expired yet. He tried tasting them, and the flavors were still okay. So he sorted them into a box, switching flavors, drinking a different one each day.
Song Qing drank his water, and along the way, pulled out a tube of hand cream from the hole underneath the computer shelf.
Also Nan Zhi’s. She had put it in the cardboard box intending to throw it away. There were four tubes total, all brand new, unused, given as freebies when buying things.
She said they were too cheap, didn’t dare to use. Song Qing didn’t mind at all, picked them back to use himself.
There were still more than two months before expiration. Four tubes were too much. One tube was as much as a tube of toothpaste. A tube of toothpaste he could use for two months.
So he squeezed out a big lump, thickly smeared it on his hands, wrists, even his neck.
Didn’t want to waste.
They were all bought with money. Even if it was a freebie, the cost was included in the product price anyway.
After Song Qing finished applying it to his hands, he felt they were sticky and greasy, not too good for typing.
While rubbing his fingers and spreading the excess cream, he was also a bit puzzled—
Why do people all love applying this stuff?
—-
At 7:30 in the morning, Nan Zhi was woken up right on time by her alarm clock. She didn’t really want to get up, dawdled under the covers for a few minutes, then hurriedly got dressed and washed up. At 7:42 she went downstairs. Breakfast was already prepared, placed in a lunch box for her.
Nan Zhi opened it for a glance—it was the light food she liked. In the morning she had no appetite, only wanted to eat something plain. But actually, she had never told Song Qing what she liked or didn’t like. She didn’t know how he knew. Now every meal he brought was exactly what she loved.
Afraid she’d get diarrhea from eating, everything was blanched in boiling water. Even if the stomach isn’t good, eating it would be fine.
He also prepared a bag of milk for her.
Nan Zhi stuffed the milk into her left pocket, on the right was a steamed fruit, the lunchbox was put into her bag — all packed full. Then she said goodbye to the cats at home and Song Qing.
In the morning, Song Qing would let the cats out. The cats and Song Qing would see her off at the doorway.
The happiest thing in the world was probably just like this.
Around 7:44 in the morning.
Song Qing sat in the wheelchair, and personally saw Nan Zhi and the cat that had jumped onto the entryway cabinet hugging.
Maybe it’s because the two of them often did this, the cat learned it in just a few days. It would also send her off at the entryway. She also treated them like she treated him, giving them hugs.
Both cats got hugs.
Then it would be his turn.
The weather was getting colder and colder, some places were even having typhoons. The mornings were fiercely cold. The colder it got, the more Nan Zhi liked hugging. Sometimes, if it was still early, once she hugged him she wouldn’t let go. Occasionally, when she couldn’t lift him, she’d brace him against the wall to borrow strength just to get that hug.
Influenced by her, he also liked hugging more and more.
Actually, he originally liked it. The reason he came to see her off in the morning — maybe part of it was also for that hug.
Before it even arrived, Song Qing could already clearly recall every detail of it — warm, solid, tight.
Song Qing watched her come over, knowing what she was about to do. The hand resting on the wheelchair proactively lifted, consciously raised toward her.
But before it even reached the point of hugging, Nan Zhi glanced at the clock on the wall.
7:45.
She shouted, “No time no time!”
Then hurriedly grabbed the keys, drove the two cats that might try to run away further back, quickly opened the door and rushed out — then slammed it shut with a pa.
Didn’t hug him.
Hugged the cats but didn’t hug him.