Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

Lin Wanqing stayed. She stayed in Cang Xiaohua's room.

The next morning, when Su Yumei got up to cook porridge, Lin Wanqing was already in the kitchen. She sat on a small stool in front of the stove, adding firewood to the firebox. The firelight shone on her face, which was still white, but now glowed.

"What are you doing up so early, child?" Su Yumei walked over.

"I get up this early at home too." Lin Wanqing looked up. "Auntie, I'll make breakfast from now on."

Su Yumei didn't say "no need." She watched Lin Wanqing's hands adding firewood to the stove—those hands were thin and white, but the knuckles were somewhat rough, hands that were used to manual labor. She squatted down and added firewood with Lin Wanqing.

When Tianci got up, the porridge was already on the table. He sat down, picked up the bowl, and started eating. Halfway through, he suddenly stopped and looked at the bowl. There was a poached egg in the porridge, the white and yolk perfectly round. He looked up at Su Yumei, then at Lin Wanqing, wondering who had put it there. Then he lowered his head and continued eating.

After dinner, Su Yumei and Cang Zhenye went to the fields. Lin Wanqing cleared away the dishes, while Tianci sat on the wood-splitting stool listening to his pocket watch. She took the dishes to the kitchen, soaked them in a basin of water, then came out and stood in front of Tianci.

"Heaven-sent," she called him.

Tianci looked up at her.

"Let's go for a walk."

Tianci stood up and followed behind her. She walked ahead, leaning on her cane, and he followed behind. She walked slowly, and he walked slowly too. The two walked along the dirt road, past the pond, past the threshing ground, and to the old locust tree. Lin Wanqing stopped in the shade of the tree, turned around, and looked at Tianci.

"Do you remember this place?" she asked.

Tianci looked at her.

"Your mother told me that when you were little, you would squat under this tree watching ants. Wang Yaowu came over, grabbed your neck, and dragged you to the pond."

Tianci's gaze shifted to the locust tree. Its bark was cracked, and its branches stretched towards the sky. He looked at it, for a long time. Then he lowered his head and continued listening to his pocket watch.

Lin Wanqing didn't say anything more. She led him back. Halfway there, she stopped, squatted down, pulled up a dandelion from the roadside by the roots, and held it up to Tianci.

"Look." She puffed out her cheeks and blew hard. The dandelion fluff scattered, floating in the sunlight like tiny umbrellas. Tianci watched the fluff drift past his eyes, over her head, and towards the pond. His lips twitched. Lin Wanqing saw it. She didn't say anything, just tossed the dandelion stem aside and continued walking, leaning on her cane.

Tianci followed.

From that day on, Lin Wanqing took Tianci out every day. She didn't just talk about it; she showed it. When she talked about the pond, she squatted down by the edge and splashed water at him. Tianci was splashed in the face, paused for a moment, then squatted down and splashed water back at her. The two of them squatted by the pond, splashing each other until their sleeves were soaked. Lin Wanqing's cane fell to the ground, but she didn't pick it up; she just smiled. Tianci looked at her and smiled too.

When they got to the threshing ground, she stood in the center, leaning on her crutch, trying to imitate Tianci's stance from years ago, holding the crutch horizontally in front of her and bending her knees. She couldn't bend down; the crutch slipped, and she leaned backward. Tianci rushed forward and caught her. She leaned on his arm, looked up, and saw his eyes. There was nothing in those eyes, but he held her firmly, not letting go.

"You used to support me like this," she said.

Tianci steadied her, released his grip, and took a step back. Then he squatted down, assuming a horse stance. His back was straight, his knees didn't extend past his toes, and he remained perfectly still. Lin Wanqing looked at him, and tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. She turned her head, wiped away her tears, then picked up her cane and walked to him.

"Teach me."

Tianci looked up at her.

"Teach me how to do the horse stance."

Tianci stood up, walked behind her, reached out, pressed her shoulder down slightly, and straightened her back. His hands were cold, but very steady. Lin Wanqing's legs were trembling; her cane, supporting her weight, gave way, and she leaned forward. Tianci caught her shoulders from behind and helped her straighten. She didn't fall.

"That's what you used to do," she said.

Lin Wanqing took Tianci out every day, and everyone in the village saw it. They often saw a girl with a cane walking in front, with the amnesiac son of the Cang family following behind. They walked past the pond, past the threshing ground, and to the old locust tree.

Someone asked Su Yumei, "Who is that girl?" Su Yumei replied, "She's Tianci's classmate, from the city. Tianci is sick, and she's here to help him with his studies."

On another occasion, Su Yumei took Lin Wanqing and Cang Tianci to the market. Aunt Zhang, who was selling vegetables, asked, "Whose daughter is this?" Su Yumei looked at Lin Wanqing and said, "My goddaughter."

Lin Wanqing lowered her head, looking at her toes. Her eyes reddened.

Every day, she walked along the dirt road of Xiqiao Village, leaning on her cane. The foxtail grass by the roadside brushed against her ankles, the pond reflected her image, and the leaves of the old locust tree fell on her shoulders. She remembered all of this.

Days passed by like this. Tianci smiled more often, and his eyes became more lively. He began to help Lin Wanqing move stools, fetch her canes, and take things down from the shelves that she couldn't reach. He didn't know why he was doing these things for her. He just did them.

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye. That day, Su Yumei returned from the fields and saw Lin Wanqing chopping vegetables in the kitchen, while Tianci sat in front of the stove adding firewood. The firelight reflected on their faces, one bright and one dim. Lin Wanqing chopped the vegetables, saying something, and Tianci listened, a smile playing on his lips. Su Yumei stood at the kitchen doorway, not going in. She turned around, wiped her eyes on her apron, and then went into the main room, placing the vegetables she had just picked from the field on the table.

That night, the power went out.

The lights in the main room suddenly went out, the fan blades slowly stopped, and the humming ceased. The whole world suddenly became quiet. Only the chirping of insects outside the window, one after another, near and far.

Lin Wanqing was sitting opposite Tianci. The moment the lights went out, her hand instinctively reached out and touched Tianci's arm. Tianci turned his hand over and grasped hers. It was cold. Neither of them moved.

Su Yumei's voice came from the darkness: "Don't be afraid, I'll go find some candles."

The sound of a match being struck. A small flame lit up in the darkness, illuminating Su Yumei's hand. Holding the match, she reached into the kitchen drawer and pulled out a half-burnt candle. She brought the flame close, the wick ignited, and a warm, yellow glow slowly spread throughout the room. The shadow on the wall flickered, then steadied.

Su Yumei placed the candle upright on the table. The candlelight flickered, illuminating Tianci's face and Lin Wanqing's face. Their hands were still clasped. Lin Wanqing lowered her head, withdrew her hand, and placed it on her knee. Tianci's hand, now free, paused for a moment before withdrawing it as well.

Lin Wanqing stared at the candle flame. The flame flickered gently on the candle, casting a dim, golden light over the entire hall. The shadows on the wall swayed with it, like reflections in water. Looking at the light, she suddenly remembered a night several years ago.

That evening after self-study, Tianci walked her home. As they passed a streetlamp, its yellow light casting a long shadow. She asked him, "What do you remember most vividly from childhood to adulthood?" He thought for a long time before saying, "My mother taught me to write the character '人' (person) under the oil lamp. That scene was so warm, her voice so gentle yet powerful." She always remembered those words.

"Could we recreate this scene? Perhaps..."

Thinking of this, she looked up and called out to Su Yumei, who was busy tidying up the house, "Auntie."

Su Yumei stopped what she was doing, turned around and asked, "Wanqing, what's up?"

"Tianci once told me that what he remembers most vividly is the scene of you teaching him to write the character '人' (person) under the oil lamp. I wonder if we could recreate that scene?"

Su Yumei stared at Lin Wanqing for a long time. Then she stood up and went into the inner room. After a while, she came out carrying a kerosene lamp. The lamp base was covered in ash, the glass lampshade was yellowed with soot, and there was a thin crack on the edge, which was taped up. She placed the lamp on the table, unscrewed the bulb, and added some oil to the base. Then she struck a match and lit the lamp by touching the wick.

The flame flickered, then settled. A warm, yellowish glow shone through the glass lampshade, spreading across a small patch of the table. It illuminated the old newspaper on the wall. The newspaper was yellowed, its edges curled, and the print faded. She carefully tore the newspaper off.

At this moment, Cang Zhenye had just returned from his third brother Cang Shouzheng's house. The two brothers were discussing setting up a brewery when the power went out halfway through their conversation, so he returned.

When Su Yumei saw Cang Zhenye return, she quickly asked him to find a calligraphy brush.

Cang Zhenye thought for a moment, then took a flashlight and went to a drawer in the inner room, finding a calligraphy brush and a bottle of ink. These were the ones Tianci had used when he was little. He handed the brush to Su Yumei, curiously asking her what she needed these things for. Su Yumei told him about Lin Wanqing's idea. Cang Zhenye also thought it was feasible.

Su Yumei spread the old newspaper on the table, soaked the stiff pen tip in a bowl of water, then dipped it in ink and wrote a large "人" (person) character on the old newspaper. The "人" character, with its two strokes, was full of ink and gleamed wetly in the candlelight.

She put down her pen, walked over to Tianci, took his hand, and sat him down at the table.

Tianci stared blankly at everything. It was all so familiar, so familiar that it sent shivers down his spine.

She sat down next to him, pointed to the character for "person" on the newspaper, and traced the character with her fingertip as she said, "Tianci, look, this is the character for 'person,' a left-falling stroke and a right-falling stroke, standing tall and upright, that's a person."

"To be a good person, one must have strong bones and a righteous heart."

She grasped Cang Tianci's hand, guiding his fingers slowly along the stroke of the character "人" (person). The lamplight shone on the newspaper, on the large character "人," making it glow. The light was yellow and warm, like those nights many years ago. On those nights, the lamp had burned just like that, the flame flickering gently, casting the shadows of mother and son on the wall. She held his little hand, tracing the character stroke by stroke. He learned slowly; it took him hundreds of attempts to write the character "人" correctly. But she didn't give up, and neither did he.

Tianci's fingers trembled slightly in her palm.

The light, the sound, the rough paper, the smell of ink… these things surged from a very, very far place, breaking through the hazy fog and crashing into the empty room.

At that moment, the pocket watch ticked on his chest, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. The sound pierced through the chaotic scene and landed steadily in his ears, like a thread that strung together all the fragments.

His hand trembled violently.

It felt like something inside my head had cracked open. A beam of light pierced through, illuminating all the darkness.

He saw his mother holding his hand under the oil lamp when he was very young, tracing characters on the newspaper stroke by stroke, one stroke at a time, "Have strong bones and a righteous heart." That was the first word he learned.

He saw Eagle Cliff. His master sat in the thatched hut, the rough earthenware cup in front of him reflecting the snow outside the window. His master's hand rested on his wrist, teaching him to feel the bones to find the path.

He saw the arena. He collapsed, blood gushing from the corner of his mouth…

He saw it all.

His tears welled up. There was no sound, just a steady stream of tears streaming down his cheeks, one drop at a time, onto the newspaper, blurring the character for "person".

"Mother." His voice was forced from deep within his throat, hoarse and broken, like stones being moved piece by piece from a dried-up riverbed. "Mother, I remember! I remember everything!"

Su Yumei froze. Her hand remained motionless on the back of Tianci's hand. The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered, and her tears fell, landing on Tianci's fingers.

She hugged him tightly. Her face was buried in his hair, and her shoulders were shaking violently.

Tianci slowly raised his hand and wrapped it around her back.

Standing in the shadows, Cang Zhenye was also in tears. This man, who rarely cried, was now sobbing uncontrollably. He stepped forward, opened his arms, and tightly embraced the weeping mother and child.

Lin Wanqing sat behind them. She wanted to go up and hug them, but she didn't dare. She could only watch quietly from the side. She watched Su Yumei's trembling shoulders, watched Tianci's arms around his mother, watched Cang Zhenye hold the mother and son tightly. The glow of the oil lamp cast the family's shadows on the wall, merging together. She could no longer hold back, and large tears fell, landing on the back of her hand, cool to the touch.

Tianci lifted his head from his mother's shoulder, looked over his father's shoulder, and looked at Lin Wanqing sitting in the shadows. There were still tear stains on her face, but the corners of her mouth were curved. He remembered her standing in the middle of the threshing ground with her cane, imitating his horse stance; he remembered her squatting by the pond, splashing water at him; he remembered her blowing dandelions, the fluff floating over her head.

"Wanqing, thank you!" he said.

She nodded and smiled at Tianci. Tears glistened in the dim light.

Outside the window, insects chirped softly. The flame of the oil lamp flickered gently, illuminating the entire main room in the colors of yesteryear.

The pocket watch ticked on Tianci's chest. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. The sound was soft and steady, like the heartbeat of the room. The family remained tightly embraced, for a long, long time.