Arctic Ocean and the Nile
"...All the waters of the world will meet again, the Arctic Ocean and the Nile will mingle in the wet clouds."*
Ji Shuhe was just fourteen when she first read those words. Back then, she didn't understand the panic of parting, nor how rare a reunion after a long separation truly was.
What troubled her at that time was that her parents, who appeared "loving" to outsiders, could no longer maintain their superficial harmony. The suffocating home was filled with the couple's incessant quarrels and slander, as if... both were trying to tear off a bloody mask from the person once closest to them.
Ji Shuhe thought they would finally separate, ending the long torment for three—or perhaps four—people.
But unexpectedly, her parents couldn't agree on a divorce. Instead, they decided to send Ji Shuhe to live with her grandparents in Xinhai for a while.
Ji Shuhe remembered that her grandparents lived in an old Shikumen house, cramped and poorly maintained. The second floor was already crowded with her uncle's family of three.
And now, at her parents' request, she was to move to such a place... to live under someone else's roof.
The fear of the unknown made Ji Shuhe resist. She wanted to plead with her father and wheedle her mother like she did when she was little, to make them compromise with her persistence.
But she was no longer a child.
Meeting the unyielding eyes of the adults, Ji Shuhe suddenly realized that either her father or mother could decide her life. Only fourteen-year-old herself could not.
She swallowed her protests and pretended to accept gracefully.
So that summer, Ji Shuhe dragged her suitcase through a bumpy journey, following her mother into the red-brick walls of Yong'anli.
Yong'anli was a traditional alley dating back to the 1920s. The thin gray brick pavement was uneven, and the outdoor faucets of each household dripped, wetting the white ceramic basins and the red bricks beneath, gradually growing dark green moss.
The two-and-a-half-story Shikumen houses faced each other, leaving only enough space for two adults to walk side by side. This narrow gap trapped the dampness between the buildings, so even in midsummer, you felt sticky all over.
Most families on the ground floor had their doors open to catch the breeze. When they noticed a stranger coming through, they silently stared with curiosity as she passed.
Unfamiliar dialects buzzed around her like flies, mixed with the faint smell of the public toilet at the entrance of the alley. Ji Shuhe felt suffocated in this strange, oppressive heat.
Her exhales couldn't keep up with her inhales, as if she were a goldfish trapped in a jar, unable to stretch its fins and swim, about to turn belly-up and faint at any moment.
A sudden bitterness welled up in her nose, and tears of grievance stung her eyes.
Ji Shuhe took a deep breath, lowering her gaze to suppress those unwarranted emotions.
Beside her white sneakers stood a pair of sharp-toed black high heels, trampling the mottled gray bricks as aggressively as their owner.
Following the line of sight, she slowly lifted her head. From this upward angle, her mother Xia Chun appeared hostile, her brows furrowed, her eyes full of irritation. Naturally, she did not notice Ji Shuhe's feelings.
"Haven't been here for years, and it hasn't changed a bit. Still as confusing as a maze."
"There's some noise over there. Let's ask for directions."
Ji Shuhe nodded. The suitcase's swivel wheels clattered over the flagstones, and she silently swallowed a sigh.
After another turn, Ji Shuhe finally saw something other than monotonous red bricks.
By the entrance of the first house, a boy stood against the wall.
He was about her age but much taller. His forehead fringe obscured his eyes, and sweat from the heat made a few rebellious strands cling to his broad forehead. His features still held childishness but promised future handsomeness.
Just by instinct, Ji Shuhe felt he radiated a dangerous aura. After staring at him for just a couple of seconds, his sharp gaze immediately swept over.
She hastily looked away, focusing on the dull red bricks and the commotion ahead, but soon she couldn't help stealing another glance.
A scrape on the boy's elbow was bleeding. The bright red blood oozed from the wound, mingling with the dust on the wall, and trickled down his forearm, mixing with sweat.
Sweat is salty; it must hurt when it touches the broken skin.
Ji Shuhe felt a sympathetic pain in her own arm. She furrowed her delicate brows and rummaged through her crossbody bag.
But just as she moved, a sharp voice suddenly rang out, making the unprepared Ji Shuhe flinch.
"Wen Shaoyu, you little brat! You're nothing but trouble in Yong'anli! No parents to discipline you, but there must be adults at home, right? I'll go call your grandmother right now and show her how badly you beat my Haohao!"
The shrill, grating voice came from a middle-aged woman. Her long, permed hair lay dry and lifeless on her shoulders, and she was dragging a short, chubby boy.
The chubby boy was hard to gauge in age. There were a few red marks on his face, and a coin-sized bruise under his eye—clearly the result of a beating.
The boy named Wen Shaoyu showed no fear. His voice, having gone through puberty, was deep and slightly hoarse, cutting through the summer heat like a cold wind when he spoke.
"With all that fat, if he..." He paused, not moving, just looking at the mother and son. "As long as I think he deserves it, I'll beat him up again."
Ji Shuhe froze in the middle of pulling out a tissue, her expression of disbelief not yet fading, when she heard Wen Shaoyu add,
"If I run into him again, I'll beat him up every time."
This violent maniac even dared to make threats in front of the victim's parent—so... so arrogant.
Ji Shuhe had always been a good girl. She curled her fingers holding the tissue, hesitating whether to do a good deed for this bad guy.
"Everyone listen! Hear what this little brat is saying! I insist his parents come here today. His whole family must apologize to me and my son, or this isn't over!"
The woman's voice grew even sharper as she pointed at Wen Shaoyu, demanding the neighbors judge him. Suddenly, various dialects in different tones and volumes erupted, turning the narrow alley into a chaotic mess.
Xia Chun frowned. Like Ji Shuhe, she hated crowded places. Seizing the opportunity, she approached the nearest household that hadn't yet joined the fray, asking for directions. As soon as she got the answer, Xia Chun dropped her fake friendly face, looking utterly annoyed, and gestured for Ji Shuhe to follow.
Ji Shuhe had known all her life that for some reason, Xia Chun disliked Xinhai. Because she disliked this city, she rarely set foot here, and she also disliked Ji Shuhe and her father coming back. So why was her mother sending her to Xinhai now?
Xia Chun took a couple of steps, then turned to see Ji Shuhe spacing out. She urged, "Xiaoshu? What are you daydreaming about? Hurry up!"
"Ah, coming!"
Ji Shuhe clutched the tissue and started to run after her, then suddenly stopped. After only a moment's hesitation, she ran in the opposite direction.
She ran up to Wen Shaoyu, stuffed the crumpled tissue into his hand, and said as she hurriedly ran back, "Here, wipe it off."
Before her voice faded, she looked back worriedly and added, "At least wipe the sweat; it'll sting if it gets into the wound."
Ji Shuhe's voice was soft, but her movements were quick and smooth, catching people off guard. It was clear she was intimidated by Wen Shaoyu. By the time her words dissipated into the wind with her footsteps, Wen Shaoyu finally lifted his eyes lazily, only to catch a glimpse of the girl's flustered, hurried back.
He looked down at the light tissue in his hand—it was almost crumpled into a ball. The soft yet sturdy paper was covered in pink floral patterns, and a peculiar fragrance wafted from it even before he brought it close. Frowning at the crumpled tissue, Wen Shaoyu ignored the woman's ongoing angry curses, tilted his head in thought, then flattened the tissue, folded it back along the creases, and stuffed it into his pants pocket. The girl was unfamiliar—probably a relative visiting someone. She was like a skittish cat.
Leaving the commotion behind, Ji Shuhe and Xia Chun finally found the place.
Standing at the door, the Shikumen house looked just like the others. The black lacquered gate was wide open, revealing a courtyard cluttered with odds and ends.
No one was inside at the moment. Ji Shuhe looked around and then shifted her gaze to the door frame. On the right wall hung a green house number plate. Below it, two faded mailboxes hung side by side. With some effort, she could still make out the red characters for "Room 01" and "Room 02."
If Ji Shuhe's childhood memory served her right, this building housed two families.
Entering through the courtyard was a shared living room. The eastern side upstairs and downstairs belonged to another family. The western side downstairs housed her grandparents, and upstairs was her uncle's family. The old house had no bathroom. The kitchen—called "zaopijian" in the local dialect—was shared by the two families. The small room directly above the kitchen, the "tingzijian," was also communal and used for storage. There was also an attic that belonged to her grandparents, but Ji Shuhe had never been up there. Her father had told her that before he married her mother, he lived in the attic. Freezing cold in winter, scorching hot in summer—uncomfortable in any season. During summer typhoons and rainstorms, it was very likely to rain heavily inside while it rained outside. The bedding would be damp, let alone getting a good night's sleep. The only advantage was that by propping open the dormer window, you could see the sky: sunny days, starry nights. It was the brightest spot in the whole building.
Ji Shuhe sighed for no reason and looked up at Xia Chun. Her mother just stood there, one arm crossed over her chest, the other dialing her phone. Soon, a phone rang inside, and then Ji Shuhe's grandparents came out to greet them.
At this hour, her uncle and aunt were at work; her cousin Ji Shulang, one year older, was on summer vacation but nowhere to be found.
The two elderly people could only bring the mother and daughter inside. After sitting down face to face, they realized that years of estrangement left them with little to say. Perhaps they didn't want to speak in front of Ji Shuhe. She only vaguely caught phrases like "household registration" and "demolition" from Xia Chun, then lost track.
Ji Shuhe listened with half an ear, scanning the yellowed walls and the faded dresser. The silent girl's mind was entirely on her future dwelling. She didn't care about the reason for moving here; it wouldn't change the outcome anyway.
Ji Shuhe's arrival was sudden. The first and second floors were already fully occupied. The tingzijian on the second floor was still empty, but it was a shared space, filled with the neighbor's belongings. Finally, the grandparents decided that Ji Shuhe would live in the attic where her father once stayed—the one with the dormer window. Ji Shuhe was reasonably satisfied with that. After all, compared to sleeping on a floor mat in her grandparents' room, she preferred a relatively private space. But the attic had been empty for years and was still cluttered with things. It would take a few days to clean out. Since Xia Chun still had Ji Shuhe's school transfer procedures to complete, she decided to let Ji Shuhe stay with her in a hotel for those few days, for convenience's sake during cleaning and shopping. Ji Shuhe's grandparents had no objections. Once the matter was settled, Xia Chun didn't intend to pretend politeness before the elders. She said she'd treat the whole family to dinner tonight, then stood up to go upstairs with Ji Shuhe to see the place.
This time, the suitcase's swivel wheels scraped against the smooth cement floor, still noisy, but quieter. They—four people, more or less—walked out in a "grand" manner. Just outside, they saw the neighbor's old lady hunched over, hands behind her back, looking distressed. Behind her stood a tall, slender youth.
Ji Shuhe thought she recognized the figure. In the next second, the youth turned his head, his gaze directly on her. Their eyes met, and he clearly recognized her too. The corners of his lips curled up slightly, and his eyebrows lifted.
"Having guests at home?"
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Author's note:
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Starting the story now [scattering flowers]
This time I prepared in advance and commissioned a character card. It's a story about a seedling training a dog. It won't be very long overall. I have saved drafts! Before V, updates every other day, at 21:00 every evening. Please give me solid little stars [begging you]
*Quote from Hermann Hesse, "Klingsor's Last Summer"