A young boy from the 1970s, separated from his family, fled famine and led his younger brother into

Springtime many years later.

The cosmos flowers in the courtyard were in full bloom, covering the wall in pink, white and purple, layer upon layer, climbing from the base of the wall all the way to the top. When the wind blew, the whole wall swayed, and the petals fell to the ground, spreading on the bluestone slabs, where they were trodden into light colors by the footsteps of passersby.

Hoshino sat in the study, with an architectural model on the table. It was a small courtyard made of wood and cardboard, with a cluster of cosmos flowers painted on the wall. In the middle of the courtyard was a stone table, and next to the stone table was a jujube tree.

He used a carving knife to carve two characters above the courtyard gate of the model, put down the carving knife, picked up the engineering drawing pen next to him, and signed his name in the lower right corner of the drawing.

The handwriting is slender and the strokes are steady.

A crisp sound of a knife striking the ground came from outside the window.

Banxia squatted beside the stone table in the courtyard, with a medicine-cutting knife in front of her. She held a piece of astragalus root with her left hand and raised the knife with her right hand, making three clean cuts with a smooth and even thickness.

She had her hair tied in a ponytail, with stray strands sticking to her forehead. A fine layer of sweat glistened on her temples. She rubbed the sliced ​​pills between her fingertips and smelled them.

"This batch of astragalus has a high moisture content, so it needs to be dried for another half day."

Hoshino pushed open the study window and peeked out.

"How did you figure that out?"

"You'll know if you twist it; it feels soft to the touch, and the cross-section is damp. Come and feel it."

"Forget about me, I can't tell the difference."

Banxia didn't even look up, but arranged the sliced ​​herbs on the bamboo tray.

"It's normal that you can't tell the difference; you're not going to study this anyway."

"I learned from my mother for two days when I was a child."

"Two days?" Banxia picked up the bamboo tray and walked into the courtyard. "What can you learn in two days? I've been learning from my mother for over ten years, and there are still some recipes I'm not sure about."

Hoshino leaned against the window frame, watching her place the bamboo tray on the low stool to dry.

"Have you finished that model?"

"It's done."

"let me see."

"We'll talk about it later. You should let the medicine air dry first."

As Banxia walked past the flowerbed, she bent down, pulled out a weed, and casually stuffed it into her pocket.

The gate to the courtyard rang.

A man in military uniform stepped across the threshold, put his backpack on the ground, stood up straight at the door, and raised his hand in salute.

Banxia rushed over from the other side of the flowerbed, stopped in front of him, and looked him up and down for two seconds.

"Uncle, your hair is shorter again."

Su An reached out and ruffled her ponytail.

"You're talking too much again."

Banxia slapped his hand away.

"I talk too much? I call it caring about you. Every time you come back, your hair is shorter than the last time. If you keep shaving it, you'll go bald."

"You won't go bald; this is the standard length for the military."

"Then your unit's standards are too short."

Su An bent down, picked up her backpack, and walked into the yard.

"How many days off did you take this time?" Banxia asked from behind.

"Seven days."

"Only seven days? It was seven days last time too."

"Seven days is not a short time."

"You said last time you could stay longer this time."

Su An turned around and glanced at her.

Did I say that?

"I did say that when you called, my mom answered, and you said you'd try to get a few more days."

Su An switched the backpack to her other hand.

"I tried, but I didn't succeed."

Banxia pouted, turned her head and shouted.

"Mom, Uncle is back."

Under the jujube tree, Lu Zhenhua moved his armchair to a spot directly beneath the tree, where the shade of the tree perfectly covered the entire chair.

Zhang Chengzhi's cane leaned against the chair, his teacup rested on the armrest, and the goji berries at the bottom of the cup were bulging.

The low table between the two chairs was no longer a chessboard, but a radio broadcasting the news, with the announcer speaking fluent and clear Mandarin.

Lu Zhenhua listened for a couple of minutes and then snorted.

"This announcer's nasal tone is not pronounced properly."

Zhang Chengzhi took a sip of tea.

"You need to get your ears checked; the person read it very clearly."

"My hearing is perfectly fine; he just couldn't distinguish between 'ang' and 'an'."

"Can you tell the difference?"

"Of course I can tell the difference."

"Then you read one."

Lu Zhenhua cleared his throat and was about to read when the news on the radio changed. The two of them listened for three seconds at the same time, then shook their heads simultaneously.

"You can't read this one well either."

"Okay, let's change the channel."

Su An walked to the jujube tree and stood between two chairs.

"Uncle Lu, Uncle Zhang."

Lu Zhenhua raised his eyelids and glanced at him.

"You're back?"

"I'm back."

Zhang Chengzhi placed the teacup securely on the armrest.

"You've lost weight. Is the food in the army bad?"

"The food is pretty good, it's just that there's a lot of training."

Lu Zhenhua snorted again.

"The training is great. Young people should practice more. Unlike us two old bones, we're so tired that we don't even have the strength to play chess anymore."

Zhang Chengzhi glanced at him sideways.

"Who says you're not strong? You smashed a radio last month, and you're not exactly weak."

"The radio fell off by itself."

"Did it fall? You slammed your hand on the table and it shook down. I saw it with my own eyes."

You've misjudged.

Su An stood there for a while without saying a word, then turned and walked into the courtyard.

Lin Wenjun sat in her office on the second floor of Niancitang, a stack of documents on her desk, which she was signing with a pen.

When she signed in the last document, she looked up at the photo frame on the corner of the table.

In the family photo, she and Lei Ming stood on either side, with three children squeezed in the middle. Lei Ming's chubby son stood in the very center, with his arms around each of his twin siblings. All three faces were beaming with smiles.

She closed the signed document, wiped the dust off the photo frame, picked up her phone, and dialed a number.

"Lei Ming, come back early today, Su An is back."

"Really? I'll have the kitchen prepare two more dishes."

"Okay, bring that chubby boy along too. He said he missed his uncle last time."

"He thinks about it every day, but then forgets about it as soon as he's done thinking about it."

Lin Wenjun chuckled and hung up the phone.

yard.

Su Nianci stood under the wall of Gesang flowers, holding a small spray bottle in her hand, sprinkling water on the leaves and petals. The water droplets fell on the petals and, when the sunlight shone on them, shattered into tiny specks of light.

She was in her fifties, with a few strands of silver hair mixed in with her black hair, only noticeable in sunlight. She had fine lines at the corners of her eyes, which deepened when she smiled, but her eyes remained bright.

Footsteps came from behind, and an arm wrapped around her waist from behind.

Lu Xingzhou rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Nian Nian".

"Um."

What are we doing today?

"Watering flowers, drying herbs, copying prescriptions with Pinellia ternata, and teaching Hoshino to draw herbal illustrations in the afternoon."

She paused for a moment.

"There's one more thing."

"What is it?"

She put down the watering can and took something out of her pocket.

Tiger-head shoes.

The red tiger head has faded to light pink, and the crooked tiger only has one eyeball sewn with thread. The other eyeball has fallen out at some point, leaving an empty hole, but the knot of the three layers of thread is still firmly in place, not a single thread has come loose.

The shoe uppers were coated with starch, making them smooth to the touch. After decades of handling them with sweat and body heat, the fabric had taken on a dull, aged patina.

Lu Xingzhou looked at the tiger-head shoes in her hand without saying a word.

"Do you know what's inside the shoe?" Su Nianci asked.

"Know."

"Old cotton, a folded letter, a glass bead." She paused, "and the note you wrote."

"Is that note still there?"

"exist."

She held the tiger-head shoes in her hands, walked to the stone table in the middle of the courtyard, and placed the shoes on the table.

Sunlight streamed down from above, landing on the shoes and warming the crooked-mouthed tiger.

Her fingers touched the black button one last time.

The button had been touched for so many years that the black lacquer had worn down to a deep bronze color; it was round and shiny.

She withdrew her hand and looked up.

The sky was a deep, pure blue, without a single other color in sight. The clouds in the distance hung low, their edges torn by the wind.

The cosmos flowers swayed at her feet, the wind blew, and the fragrance of the flowers mingled with the scent of herbs drying on the stone table, enveloping her.

She spoke softly.

"Dad, Mom, look!"

The wind carried her voice above the courtyard wall.

Petals fell from the top of the wall, one by one, pink, white and purple, swirling and swirling, landing on the stone table, next to the tiger-head shoes, and on her shoulder.

Lu Xingzhou stood two steps behind her, neither coming over nor making a sound.

Banxia poked half her head out from the other side of the flowerbed.

Hoshino looked up from the study window.

Su An leaned against the courtyard gate, carrying a backpack in her hand.

The radio under the jujube tree was still broadcasting the news, but the two old men had fallen silent sometime during the night.

The courtyard was very quiet, so quiet that only the sound of the wind and the falling petals could be heard.

Su Nianci stood in the sunlight, amidst the flowers and people filling the courtyard.

Her lips curved slightly, a small arc that stretched a little to the sides before stopping, but the smile seemed to grow from a very deep place, as if it had grown over two lifetimes, finally reaching her face.

May you all live a peaceful and safe life.

(End of the book)