It is now October 12th, and there is no weekend off. The wind outside carries the unique clarity of autumn as it sweeps between the buildings, producing a hollow howling sound. As for why I am sitting at the desk instead of enjoying leisure time, there is no need to elaborate. That being said, let’s start from the recent past. After the holiday, I returned to work for three or four days, feeling out of sorts, as if there were a layer of frosted glass between me and my job, my thoughts still drifting elsewhere. Tonight, I had a meal at a newly discovered clay pot restaurant, and then I booked another one, preparing to indulge on another day.
The recently passed holiday felt like a grand dream. Memories linger of the bustling crowds at the station, the noise of suitcase wheels rolling over the ground, and that mix of exhaustion and excitement. Those days felt elongated. I could sleep in until late morning without guilt, laughing as I pulled her up, wandering aimlessly on the streets. Bao and I walked through the alleys of PJ Road, where white walls and dark tiles were adorned with various window frames that decorated the gardens. We also strolled along the somewhat lonely ST Street after sunset, passing through dark, deserted paths. We paused in front of interesting little shops, commenting on the Su embroidery in the windows, or being pleasantly surprised by an unexpected travel guide. Those “improved” Su cuisine dishes might not be so “authentic,” but they perfectly matched our blended tastes, much like our relationship, finding a unique balance through adjustment. We talked about grand ideals and shared trivial updates. In those moments of walking side by side and chatting casually, the long-accumulated fatigue seemed to be gently shaken off by the gentle breeze of Jiangnan and each other's company. The gentleness of S Province seemed to soak into our time, softening everything. Whenever we talked about travel, there was always a hint of regret. This time, it was just visiting one garden, and Bao's umbrella fell again. I believe it is not something to be avoided at all costs, but rather an essential “reserved program” in life, to be accepted calmly and faced cheerfully, knowing that diversity is the source of happiness.
The train back home felt like a precise time machine, instantly dragging us from that warm world filled with the smell of fireworks back to the cold steel forest. The moment the holiday ended was not when we set off for home, but the next morning, when the alarm clock, with its usual ruthlessness, woke you up, and you realized you had to switch immediately into “battle mode.” Thus, we ended up with this weekend, which felt even more significant than a weekday. It was like repaying the joy borrowed from the holiday, or like desperately saving something for the next journey. In a few days, it will be my birthday, and I think I can look forward to some good things, peanuts 🥜.
The wind is still blowing, carrying a chill. So, let’s continue. With a heart pressed by the warmth of fireworks, I will re-enter this bustling world. For the next encounter worth rushing towards, and for all the responsibilities and dreams that don’t need to be spoken but are understood.