The most heartbreaking thing in a person’s life is not farewell in death, but the living separation where one doesn’t know the whereabouts of their loved one. The old man, in his seventies, sobbed loudly, making both Xiao Xian and Zhuo Feng feel somber, unsure how to begin comforting him.
After hearing his story, Xiao Xian and Zhuo Feng realized that what truly weakened Bai Juyi wasn’t his age, but the suppressed longing of over thirty years.
Zhuo Feng, straightforward by nature and never one to tolerate injustice, felt both angry and moved by the old man’s experiences, "Master Bai, why are you still thinking of her? It’s been over thirty years. Even if she was throwing a tantrum, it should have been enough. She left without a word; she clearly didn’t have you in her heart. Besides, it was just a slap. When my spouse and I were dating, forget about a slap, he didn’t know how many punches he took from me."
"Girl, don’t bring up your own experiences. To me, Granny Mei Xiang didn’t really hold a grudge. She left behind her commonly used scissors and the daffodil. There must be a reason for it, otherwise why wouldn’t she just take everything with her," even taking the marriage certificate.
"That’s true. If it were me, I would have torn up the photos and certificates and burned them to ashes to vent my anger," Zhuo Feng said. Then she picked up the daffodil bulb, examining it over and over. The scissors left behind could be used, and leaving both the flowerpot and the bulb suggests that she definitely wanted Bai Juyi to plant them.
"Mr. Bai, did Granny Mei Xiang not leave behind any words?" In fact, Mei Xiang left behind only one sentence, which caused Bai Juyi to give up on marriage for the next thirty years. He declined offers from numerous parks and even some well-known international plantations, shutting himself in, focusing solely on gardening.
"’A spiritual connection through a mere hint; blossoms bloom and fade in their own time.’" Bai Juyi believed there must be something special about this daffodil. He knew Mei Xiang’s temperament—she wouldn’t leave without a good reason; her departure was probably related to this daffodil bulb.
"It’s like a soap opera, no matter what, it needs to blossom to count. Master Bai, with your skills, can’t you grow a daffodil?" Zhuo Feng now understood why Mr. Bai had a lineup of daffodils at his door two years ago—they were all for experimentation.
"I thought so too; a daffodil bulb shouldn’t be hard to grow, but whatever method I tried, the bulb remained uncut and sealed; a sealed bulb won’t sprout," Bai Juyi had tried. Initially, he used a simple gardening knife. The outer layer peeled off easily, but he couldn’t find a tool that could cut into the daffodil bulb.
Bai Juyi even found a diamond cutter specifically used for cutting diamonds, and the dried-up bulb didn’t bear a single scratch.
Zhuo Feng, disbelieving, scraped the daffodil with an extremely sharp pair of scissors. The surface gray dust scraped off, but further in, the scissors seemed to face tremendous resistance and couldn’t penetrate the bulb.
"That’s strange," Zhuo Feng, not convinced, exerted a bit more strength, but this time, the scissors slid straight off the skin of the daffodil.
"Girl, stop trying. It seems every method has been tried. Mr. Bai, have you consulted peers, or researched the origins of this bulb, like its variety, or where it came from?" Things don’t just fall from the sky; knowing its origins helps in cultivation. Failure to bloom or sprout might be due to the wrong climate or cultivation method.
"I’ve checked, asked both domestically and internationally, but haven’t found the source of this type of daffodil. Normal daffodils need to be identified by their flowers and leaves during blooming," Bai Juyi ultimately gave up on cultivating daffodils two years after many trials.
A single daffodil bulb turned into an unresolved mystery. Mei Xiang’s inexplicable departure, along with a bulb that was impossible to tackle, left Zhuo Feng only feeling sorry for the old man. How many thirty years does one have in life? The old man’s words were lost on this withered "onion head."
"Mr. Bai, if you don’t mind, could I take this bulb?" Xiao Xian’s suggestion took Bai Juyi by surprise, but he immediately agreed. Some things have to be let go; death is like a snuffed lamp, illness like a collapsing mountain, his days were already numbered.
"Over these many years, I’ve never been able to grow it. Perhaps, as Mei Xiang’s words left behind, ’a spiritual connection through a mere hint’. Old man, my connection with her probably broke over thirty years ago. Let’s just say she really is dead." After saying this, Bai Juyi solemnly handed over the scissors to Xiao Xian, "We’ve been neighbors for half a year, old man never had a proper gift for you. I see you have a talent in gardening, you do quite well with the fruits and vegetables on the rooftop. This pair of scissors is best for pruning and could be quite nice for you."
Xiao Xian accepted it, feeling a weight in her heart. Zhuo Feng, standing by, also sensed the old man’s words carried a behest almost like a will.
As they left the hospital, Zhuo Feng and Xiao Xian both felt disheartened. Anyone who hears such a story with a beginning but no end would feel regret.
The aunt and niece walked only a few steps when Xiao Xian suddenly stopped, just across the street was that not Zhang Yiyi? She surreptitiously turned and entered a building.
"Xiao Xian, what’s wrong?" Zhuo Feng followed Xiao Xian’s gaze and looked over.
"I think I saw my friend, the one we met at the school gate," Xiao Xian and Zhuo Feng both saw the building and the large sign hanging at the entrance, "An’an Plastic Surgery and Beauty." (To be continued. If you work, please come to Qidian (qidian.com) to vote with your recommendation ticket and monthly ticket. Your support is my greatest motivation.)