Guan Ningyue cleans the study room in Xishan Nursing Home once a week. The rule is "don't ask, don't look."
After working for three months, I didn't even know his full name.
All I know is that his surname is Si, that the room is always filled with the faint scent of bitter tea, and that there is an incomprehensible family emblem carved on the armrest of the wheelchair.
He was indeed raised dignified and well as the rumors said.
Her nails are trimmed and rounded, her sweaters are always soft and smooth, and even the drinking cup is made of warmed bone china.
His voice was very soft, with the gentleness of a long-term illness, but every word was clear and appropriate.
Our initial communication is limited to:
"Miss Guan, please open the curtains further."
"Ms. Guan, can this book be placed on the left?"
"Miss Guan, the flowers are blooming very well today."
Polite and distant, as if separated by a layer of glass.
…
Until I found a painting in his study.
The painting shows my back, standing under the old golden ginkgo tree in my hometown. Next to the painting is a line of small, clear words:
"She doesn't know that I saw her when she was sixteen."
…
Until that snow day.
When I came in, he was sitting by the window watching the snow. The wheelchair was facing out of the window, and the man's side face was white and transparent in the snowy light.
After a long while, he turned his head. He was sitting in a wheelchair, wearing a light gray sweater, with a thin blanket covering his knees.
Smiling slightly, he just said softly: "Long time no see, Guan Ningyue."
Intention: strive towards the sun