"Roses, roses! Rose at the end of Tanabata!" Busy to close the stall to buy flowers girl shouted crisply, anxious to go home to the crowd no one cares about her. Tanabata is always rainy, and although the rain is not heavy, it is always titillating. Is the sky sighing? Or sentimental weaver and her brother Cowherd again, the feelings of the world is always accompanied by tears. The year before today I harvested a big hug of roses, intoxicated in the honey pot of love, he swore to me to bring this couples watch, so that the time to remember the minutes and seconds we love each other; the rain he forgot to recite Yu Guangzhong's poem for me: waiting for you, in the rain! Last year, today, the other side of the ocean, he, through the airwaves to "waiting for you, in the rain" sent across the ocean, the phone to play to the hot; courier roses are still fragrant. This year, he left a message, "I wish you happiness!" Turned away, love finally lost to time and distance. Everything seems to have been expected, at this moment there is no pity for the pain of lost love, the heart seems to have been hollowed out, floating feeling, unloading the shackles of love, I can not say is lost or relieved. Once the rose broken into a frosty cold, at this time I do not know is in despair in loneliness, or loneliness in despair! Rainy night can not see the starry sky, the love of the weaver cowherd, worth waiting for, because it can cross the Milky Way, the human emotions across the ocean. This KAO watch is still faithfully fulfilling its oath, prompting the time is still walking, once and again mesmerizing second hand rhythm, at the moment seems to have become an irony and a joke!
"Girl, buy flowers, eve roses, the last two!" The little girl who bought the flowers had stood in front of me at some point, peddling two delicately packaged blue goblins.
"Sorry, I don't have a lover, no roses."
"Give it to yourself! Tanabata is not only love, but also a daughter's day, love yourself well, give yourself a beautiful." The little girl is not too old but quite good at selling. Don't want to be pestered by her, but what she said makes people a little heartfelt.
"Give yourself? Unfortunately I don't have any money with me, this watch is for you if I can change it!" I took off the piece of cahow.
"This, this is not good?" The little girl hesitated.
"Girl, I have change here!" A mellow voice came from the side of the cloister. An old man came through the dim light. Only when he got closer did he see clearly, although a little old, but very robust, this old man is a regular customer here, it seems to see often, just did not say hello.
"Sir, how can this be?"
"Child, keep that watch, we all live in Bilu Xuan, later have time to pay me back, there is no rush."
Holding two roses, suddenly remembered the two blue Leprechaun's flower language: meet is a kind of destiny, the intersection of the heart so that we have inexhaustible romantic feelings. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but I'm sure it's a good idea for me. Tears instantly like a dike flood, finally a pour down, the night covered my embarrassment, touch bar tears to the old man to thank.
"It's so late, why don't you rest, sir?"
"Couldn't sleep, kid you too right? I see you have been here a long time."
I nodded feebly.
"Interested, child, in hearing my story?"
The old man, in a low, slow voice, drew back in time to more than fifty years ago: at that time, I had just recently enlisted in the army, and was working as a clerk in the company because of my love of literature. Accepted a special 'mission, to go to the suburbs of Guangzhou to support agriculture, while responsible for the editorial work. The landlord was a pair of grandparents and grandchildren, grandmother and her granddaughter, I heard that the grandmother's son and daughter-in-law are far away in Singapore, is a university professor, the old man is reluctant to leave the homeland, the son is worried about her loneliness, let the child to accompany the grandmother to live. The old man's face is kind, leisure always like to hold a book to read, give a person the feeling of calm and relaxed, and the impetuous times in stark contrast. Granddaughter Xin'er seventeen or eighteen years old quiet heartbreaking girl, likes to read poetry. Their house is very spacious, classical oriental architecture, through the mottled windows and doors Zhu Yan, see once prosperous.
Supporting agricultural labor was hard, and I had to catch up with my manuscript when I came back at night. The grandmother will always wash and iron my clothes every day, so that Xin'er sent; light meals, let me through the hungry years, I was a child who lost his parents since childhood, felt the warmth of home. When I got acquainted with Xin'er, she often found out the masterpieces she treasured at home, and we quietly read "Shelley", "Hugo" and "Biden" together.... ...It was then that the door to literature opened for me. The day of the rainy days do not work, listen to the Xiner blowjob, melodious tune to take away all the fatigue, or Xiner quietly sitting on the side, watching me write, a pair of lake like clear eyes quiet moving, often let a person reverie to the distant prairie, deep and pure.
The summer in the south of the mosquito is particularly high, grandmother with mint leaves crushed to take the juice made into a simple perfume. Xiner every day in my indoor spray, that with the mint summer and that with the mint cool girl, become my lifelong memory. Good times are always fast, one day Xin'er leisurely handed a watch: "Wing brother, I have to go, this watch to give you as a souvenir!"
"When can you come back?
"I don't know, maybe ......"
I didn't dare to look at Xin'er's downcast eyes, and panicked to take out a green diary from my satchel, which was a prize and the only gift I could come up with for Xin'er. Xin'er received wordlessly, large drops of tears fell on top of the green leather surface, crystal like pearls in the lotus leaves shaking.
The old gentleman said these long breath of relief, looking at the dark night sky. "Later?" I asked eagerly.
"Later, Xin'er left, I also left Guangzhou, far away to the Xinjiang Gobi, and since then lost all contact." I continued my military service in the Xinjiang Gobi, and then later married and had children, and literary creation became the theme of my life. Xiner's watch has always been with me, it is a piece of Swiss imported watch, in those years is equivalent to a worker's annual salary income, it is my most valuable belongings.
20 years later an occasional opportunity to go to Guangzhou on business, met the old comrades in the past, and they talked about Xin'er, I heard that she married a doctor abroad, Xin'er returned to Guangzhou to bury her grandmother, had gone to the army to inquire about my recent situation, and took away the articles I published in the military newspaper!
"Oh! I understand, you are the famous Gobi writer-poet "wing rancid" teacher? Often read your articles." I suddenly a little excited, so I admire the literati in front of me.
"Yes, since last year, my partner and I returned to our hometown to spend the rest of our lives."
"Then there has been no contact since then?"
"No, until the other day, when the old watch, which had been going for 50 years, suddenly stopped, and I knew that the heart had stopped beating."
"Huh? That amazing?"
"Yes, I just received a gift today forwarded by Citizen's grandson - the green journal I gave Citizen back in the day. Again and again, it was Grandma's wish." The old gentleman took out a somewhat old looking still neat notebook from his arms and handed it to me. By the light of the corridor, I opened this half-century-old token. A line of neat and elegant font, written all over the yellowed pages, and finally time stops on June 20th of this year.
"Xin'er has the habit of keeping a diary, her diary recorded every time I published an article, work changes in time, I have everything she is concerned, has been concerned about a lifetime. Hanging on for a lifetime."
"Too touching, write your story into a novel! So moving love."
"No!" The old gentleman gently shook his head, "Son, some people, some things need to be treasured in the heart."
I gently put out a rose on top of the green book, seems to be holding a faraway woman that soft heart, solemnly handed over to the old gentleman: salute to love!
The rain is still falling, holding only one rose left on the eve of Tanabata, said goodbye to the old man strolling in the drizzle, clearly heard: "Whose tears are in bloom, my song in the rainy night flying, Tanabata's roses floated to the faint fragrance! Accompany me to a faraway place!"