FYN Chapter 177 The More You Look at It, the More Appealing It Is
Chapter 177 The More You Look at It, the More Appealing It Is
No one is home.
The living room was empty. A half-cold glass of water sat on the coffee table. The television was off, and the black screen reflected only his own shadow.
Song Huan stood on the balcony, looking out the window.
The rain wasn't just falling, it was pouring down.
It was being poured down from the sky, bucket after bucket, hitting the windowpane with a loud thud, like someone was banging on it from outside.
The wind whistled between the buildings, sounding like both crying and laughing.
The big tree in the distance was bent over by the wind, its branches swaying and leaves flying everywhere.
Song Huan felt a sudden, inexplicable panic.
He remembered something.
He remembered this typhoon from his past life.
Very big.
For three days, the television broadcast images of fallen trees, torn roofs, and fields submerged in water.
Some people are gone, but I can't remember exactly how many.
He turned around, walked to the landline, picked up the receiver, and dialed.
The phone rang three times, then I answered it.
"grandmother."
The old woman's voice came from the other end, full of energy.
"Huanhuan."
Song Huan breathed a sigh of relief.
"A typhoon is coming, so you and Grandpa shouldn't go out. Keep the doors and windows closed, and make sure you have enough food and drinks ready."
Grandma smiled, "I know, I know. Your dad already called us, and your grandpa is reinforcing the chicken coop. Don't worry, we're both over seventy years old, we've seen plenty of typhoons."
Song Huan was still worried after hearing this, "Really, don't go out. If it gets windy, stay indoors and don't go out to look around."
Grandma laughed on the other end, "Okay, okay, I'll listen to you. You also need to be careful."
It's over.
Dial again.
This time it's Zhang Xuejuan.
The phone rang for a long time, and I answered it just before it was about to disconnect.
"Mom, are you off work yet?"
Zhang Xuejuan's voice came from the other end, mixed with the noise of the machines, "Not yet, we're rushing to finish this batch of goods."
Song Huan gripped the microphone tighter. "The typhoon is coming. Come back quickly."
Zhang Xuejuan laughed, the kind of laugh an adult has for a child. "Typhoons? I've seen more than you've eaten salt. It's okay, I'll be back later."
Song Huan opened her mouth, as if to say something.
He remembered that on that night in his previous life, when Zhang Xuejuan came back, a piece of iron plate was blown down from upstairs, hit her feet, bounced up, and flew away.
She wasn't injured, but she was quite frightened.
When I got home, my face was pale and my hands were shaking.
"Mom, come back now." Song Huan's voice changed.
Zhang Xuejuan paused for a moment, then said, "Your dad said he's coming to pick me up later."
"Call him now and tell him to come pick you up right now, immediately."
Zhang Xuejuan paused for a second, then said, "Okay, okay, I'll listen to you. Stop nagging."
It's over.
Song Huan stood next to the landline phone and thought for a moment.
He picked up the phone again and dialed.
He knew Xiao Yunqing's phone number better than he knew his own.
I answered it after it rang once.
"Feed?" Xiao Yunqing's voice came through the microphone, softer than usual.
"How's it going on your end?" Song Huan asked.
Xiao Yunqing paused for a moment, then said, "I was just about to call you."
Her voice rose a little, "The wind is so strong outside, and the rain is so heavy, can't you see?"
Song Huan listened and heard the sound of wind coming from her direction, whistling louder than her voice.
"I saw it," he said. "Be careful, this year's typhoon is unusual."
Xiao Yunqing responded with an "Mmm," and then added, "You too."
The two exchanged a few more words, nothing serious, just asking if they had eaten and if the doors and windows were closed properly.
It's down again.
Song Huan put the microphone back and looked out the window.
It was completely dark.
It's not the kind of darkness you see at night.
It's afternoon, a little past four, and it's already as dark as midnight.
The clouds hung low, grayish-black, rolling westward in clumps.
The wind picked up, blowing the trees downstairs into arcs, their roots in the soil and their crowns almost touching the ground.
There was a knock at the door.
Song Wentao pushed the door open and came in, followed by Zhang Xuejuan.
Zhang Xuejuan was still carrying a lunchbox, her clothes were disheveled by the wind, and her hair was messy.
As she changed her shoes, she muttered, "I haven't finished my work yet. What if I can't meet the deadline tomorrow?"
Song Wentao closed the door, keeping the wind out and lowering his voice by half. "The child meant well."
He placed his briefcase on the sofa, sat down, unscrewed the lid of his teacup, and took a sip.
Song Huan looked at them; their hair was disheveled and their clothes were wrinkled, but they were all fine and safe.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Halfway through dinner, it got completely dark, as if someone had turned off the lights.
Song Huan raised her head and looked out the window.
The wind picked up and howled, like something was running around outside.
The windows in my house were shaking, and the glass was buzzing, as if it was about to shatter.
Zhang Xuejuan put down her chopsticks and glanced out the window. "This typhoon seems to be quite strong."
Song Wentao had already stood up, walked onto the balcony, and held his phone to his ear.
"Hey, Lao Zhang, has that warning been posted online yet?"
The signal was intermittent, and his voice fluctuated in volume, "Yes, a red alert! Immediately issue a notice through our propaganda department's official website, strictly prohibiting everyone from going out tonight unless absolutely necessary!"
Song Huan sat at the dining table, picked up a piece of pork rib, and just brought it to her mouth.
Suddenly, the lights went out.
The whole house went dark; you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.
Song Wentao's voice also came from the balcony.
"Feed? Feed?"
My phone has no signal.
He walked back, the light from his phone screen illuminating a small white patch on the floor.
"The power is out."
Zhang Xuejuan muttered to herself in the darkness, "Why is this typhoon so strong?"
She stood up, walked to the cabinet, squatted down, opened the drawer, felt around inside, and pulled out a candle.
A white, thick candle, covered with a layer of ash.
She wiped it with a tissue, placed it in the middle of the dining table, and took out a lighter from the drawer.
The flame flickered and then lit up.
The orange light spread across the dining table, casting flickering shadows on the faces of the three people.
The shadow cast on the wall was large, flickering with the flames.
Song Huan looked down at the rice in her bowl; it was white, but tinged yellow in the candlelight.
He picked up a piece and put it in his mouth.
The food was cold.
I didn't finish it, but I couldn't eat anymore.
He put down his chopsticks and looked out the window.
The wind is still howling, the rain is still pounding, and the windows are still shaking.
The candlelight on the table flickered once, then flickered again.
……
A candle burned in the middle of the table, its flame flickering and casting a shadow on the wall.
Xiao Yunqing sat beside her, her hand resting on the edge of the table, looking at the orange light.
The light was dim, just enough to illuminate half the table, while the other half remained in darkness.
Xu Wan stood by the window, pulled back a corner of the curtain, and looked outside.
It was pitch black outside, and I couldn't see anything. Only rainwater was streaming down the glass, in streaks like tears.
She stood there for a while, then lowered the curtains.
"Your dad won't be coming home tonight." She turned around and leaned against the windowsill. "He has to go on duty."
Xiao Yunqing remained silent.
She knows.
Xiao Haifeng is never home during typhoons.
The same thing happened last year and the year before. She left in the middle of the night and didn't know when she came back. When she woke up in the morning, she was already on the sofa, still in her uniform, asleep in a crooked position.
Xu Wan walked back and sat down opposite Xiao Yunqing.
The two people were separated by a candle, and neither of them spoke.
The wind howled outside, the windows shook, and the rain pounded against the glass.
Xiao Yunqing stared at the candle.
The flames were leaping, the wick was blackened and bent into a hook.
She suddenly wondered, what is Song Huan doing right now?
His house must have lost power too.
Did you also light a candle, sit at the dining table, and stare blankly at the flame?
She reached out her hand, close to the flame, and the shadow of her fingers was cast large on the table, swaying with the flame.
The next day, the wind stopped and the rain stopped.
When the curtains were drawn back, sunlight streamed in, blindingly white.
Xiao Yunqing squinted, walked to the window, and looked downstairs. Several trees had fallen, uprooted, with their roots pointing skyward, like overturned octopuses.
The ground was littered with broken branches, fallen leaves, overturned bicycles, and scattered garbage bags.
The cement road in the community has turned into a river, with muddy water reaching above ankle level.
Song Huan stood on the balcony, glanced downstairs, and then turned and went back inside.
Song Wentao has already left. His leather shoes are gone from next to the shoe cabinet. There is a note on the coffee table that reads, "I went to work."
Zhang Xuejuan came out of the kitchen carrying two blue plastic buckets, each holding ten liters.
"Come on, let's go downstairs and get some water."
Song Huan took the bucket from her hand. "I'll go."
Zhang Xuejuan was taken aback. "You're alone?"
"Okay." Song Huan picked up the two buckets, changed her shoes, opened the door, and went out.
Zhang Xuejuan stood at the door, watching it close, feeling both amused and exasperated.
When did this child become so sensible?
A long queue had already formed downstairs.
The elderly, women, and children carried buckets, basins, and jugs, all dressed in colorful clothes.
A blue water truck was parked at the entrance of the residential area, with the word "Fire" printed on its body. Water was flowing out from the thick pipe, gushing out.
Song Huan waited in line for twenty minutes before it was her turn.
He filled both buckets, one in each hand, and lifted them up.
The water was heavy, and the bucket sank downwards, causing his arm to straighten and the veins to bulge.
He walked back steadily, step by step.
Two round trips, four buckets of water, enough for two days.
Zhang Xuejuan put the lid on the water tank, turned around, and saw Song Huan standing at the door changing her shoes again.
Where are you going?
"I'll go check on Little Cloud."
Zhang Xuejuan nodded. "Go ahead, your Uncle Xiao probably won't even have time to get home."
……
Xiao Yunqing bent over, gripped the bucket handle in her hand, lifted it up slightly, and then put it down again.
The water sloshed in the bucket, splashing out a little and landing on her shoes.
Xu Wan stood to the side, also carrying a bucket, both of them panting.
The place to get water was far from their home, requiring them to walk two blocks.
It's fine to walk normally, but it's different when you're carrying water.
Take a few steps and then rest, take a few more steps and then rest again, wiping the sweat from your forehead and it keeps coming back up.
Xiao Yunqing gritted her teeth, picked up the bucket again, took a few steps, and then put it down.
She straightened up, wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, turned her head, and suddenly paused.
Song Huan stood a few meters away.
White T-shirt, sweatpants, hands in pockets, nothing in his hands.
He looked at her for two seconds, then walked over.
Xu Wan saw him too. "Xiao Song? What brings you here?"
"I thought you might need me here, so I came."
Song Huan smiled and bent down to pick up Xiao Yunqing's bucket, then picked up Xu Wan's as well.
One in each hand, the water sloshed in the bucket for a moment, then settled.
"Let's go."
He walked forward at a moderate pace, the buckets on either side of his body remaining perfectly still.
Xu Wan paused for a moment, watching his retreating figure.
When did this child grow up so big?
He was over 1.8 meters tall, with broad shoulders, muscular arms, and a steady gait.
She and Xiao Yunqing wobbled as they carried one bucket, but he carried two as if they were two bottles of water.
She subconsciously turned her head to look at Xiao Yunqing.
Xiao Yunqing had already caught up, and after running a few steps, she reached out and grabbed the handle of the bucket on Song Huan's right.
The two people each grabbed one side, and the bucket wobbled slightly in the middle.
Song Huan turned her head and glanced at her.
She didn't look at him; she kept her eyes on the road ahead.
"Thank you." The voice was very soft, as if it were being squeezed out of the throat.
Song Huan smiled and said, "It was just a small thing."
Two people walked side by side, with a bucket hanging between them.
Xu Wan followed behind, watching the two figures from behind.
One was tall, the other short, but they moved in unison, even shaking the bucket at the same rhythm.
She smiled faintly, as if she hadn't smiled at all.
This child, the more I look at him, the more pleasing he seems!
……
(Okay, we've received your feedback, so we'll speed up the plot and make sure everyone can meet Laoyue by the end of the month, okay?)