The Remaining Warmth Of Fog Harbor Chapter 49
byReturn to the old room
The old town of Wugang is still the same as in my memory. The bluestone road has been polished by the years, the arcades on both sides are covered with moss, and the old tea restaurant on the corner still smells of pineapple oil.Lu Wanheng dragged a huge suitcase, which contained all of Shen Zhiyi’s drawings, painting tools, and the off-white urn – she finally decided to take Shen Zhiyi back to the city where they first met.
The studio she was looking for was on the third floor of the arcade. It had a faded vermilion wooden door. The house number had long been blurred, and only a shallow scratch remained on the door frame—it was accidentally scratched by Shen Zhiyi with a paintbrush. She complained for a long time, saying that it ruined the beauty of the door.Lu Wanheng raised his hand and touched the scratch, feeling a rough touch on his fingertips, as if he could still feel Shen Zhiyi’s angry tone at that time, and his eyes instantly turned red.
The moment he opened the door, a smell mixed with turpentine, paint and dust hit his face, so familiar it made Lu Wanheng’s heart tighten.The studio is not big, about 20 square meters. The east-facing window is hung with white-washed blue and white plaid curtains. Sunlight shines in through the gaps in the curtains, casting mottled light and shadow on the floor.
The easel was still standing by the window, with a canvas stained with paint on it. It was an unfinished still life painting by Shen Zhiyi. The outline of the apple had been outlined, but it stayed there forever.The desk was placed by the window, with several sketchbooks stacked neatly on top. There were more than a dozen worn paintbrushes in the pen holder, and a solidified palette. The paint on it had long dried up, but the colors that Shen Zhiyi often used could still be identified – lemon yellow, sky blue, and ocher.
There are several rolls of unopened drawing paper stacked in the corner, with a thin layer of dust on the wrapping paper; there are several art albums on the bookshelf, and a dog-eared copy of “The Little Prince”, which Lu Wanheng gave to Shen Zhiyi. “We are each other’s roses” she wrote on the title page is still clearly visible; there is even half a piece of chocolate left in the desk drawer – which Shen Zhiyi eats when she is tired of painting. She said sweets can make her mood better.
Lu Wanheng put down his suitcase and walked into the studio slowly, his fingertips gently brushing against each item.She did not clean it immediately, but squatted down and looked at a few paintbrushes scattered on the floor, as if she could see Shen Zhiyi’s busy figure here back then: She sat in front of the easel, frowning slightly, and concentrated on drawing lines; she lay on the desk, biting the brush, and stared at the blank paper in a daze; when she received the daisies she gave, her eyes were as bright as stars, and her mouth had a gentle smile.
The past came flooding back, with sharp pain that left her almost breathless.She walked to the window and opened the curtains. The sunlight instantly filled the entire studio, illuminating the dust floating in the air.Outside the window are the rooftops of the old city, which are well-proportioned. In the distance, you can see the blurry sea level, which is exactly the same as the scene in Shen Zhiyi’s paintings.
“Zhiyi, we are going home.” Lu Wanheng said softly to the empty studio, with a strong nasal sound in his voice, “Go back to the place where we first met, go back to your studio.”
In the next few days, Lu Wanheng began to clean the studio carefully.She didn’t use detergent, just wiped it gently with a soft rag, for fear of destroying any traces left by Shen Zhiyi.She wiped off the dust on the desk, but retained the faint marks of the brush; she tidied the bookshelf, but kept the “Little Prince” in its original position; she cleaned the palette, but deliberately left traces of dried paint, which were witnesses of Shen Zhiyi’s creation.
She replaced the easel with a new canvas, but carefully put away Shen Zhiyi’s unfinished still life painting; she added new brushes to the pen holder, but still kept the worn old ones; she placed a bouquet of fresh daisies on the windowsill, just like Shen Zhiyi liked back then, and watered it on time every day, so that the studio was always filled with a light floral fragrance.
At night, she slept on the folding bed in the corner of the studio, covered with a thin blanket left by Shen Zhiyi, which still had a faint fragrance.She would spread out Shen Zhiyi’s drawings one by one and read them carefully under the light until late at night.Sometimes she would sit in front of the easel, pick up a paintbrush, and try to copy Shen Zhiyi’s works. But as she painted, tears would fall on the paper and blur the ink.She could never paint Shen Zhiyi’s brushstrokes, nor the emotions in her paintings, nor her deep love for herself.
She never locked the studio door.She always felt that Shen Zhiyi might come back, maybe he would open the door and say to her with a smile: “Wanheng, I’m back.” But every time she heard movement at the door, she looked back expectantly, but all she saw was an empty door and endless disappointment.
She hung a huge photo on the wall of her studio – it was a photo of her and Shen Zhiyi, taken at Wugang Beach.In the photo, they are holding hands, smiling so happily, and the sun shines on them, making them warm and dazzling.Lu Wanheng would look at this photo every day, look at Shen Zhiyi’s smile, and recite her name silently in his heart, as if like this, Shen Zhiyi was still by her side and never left.
The neighbors in the old city gradually got to know Lu Wanheng, knowing that she was the girl who rented the studio, and that she was waiting for someone who would never come back.Sometimes, the owner of the tea restaurant would bring her hot pineapple oil, and the old lady would bring her pastries made by herself. No one asked much, just giving her a touch of warmth in this silent way.
Lu Wanheng just lived in the studio, guarding everything Shen Zhiyi left behind, guarding the memories between them.She knew that this studio was not only Shen Zhiyi’s hard work, but also a testimony of their love.She wants to hold a painting exhibition for Shen Zhiyi here, a painting exhibition that belongs to her, so that more people can see her talent, see her story, and see the pure and firm love between them.
The process of preparing for the exhibition was more difficult than Lu Wanheng imagined.She no longer has the wealth and status she had back then. All her funds come from the savings left over from the sale of assets, and every penny must be calculated carefully.She has to contact exhibition venues, design posters, produce brochures, frame drawings, and handle various procedures. She has to do everything herself.
Instead of choosing a bustling downtown exhibition hall, she rented an idle old factory in the old city. The rent was cheap but the space was large enough.She personally designed the layout of the exhibition hall and divided Shen Zhiyi’s drawings into several parts in chronological order: first encounter with Wugang, time of falling in love, seclusion in Qingchuan, and leaving traces of the final strokes.Each part is equipped with simple text descriptions, no fancy words, only the most true stories.
Framing paintings is the most labor-intensive task.She was reluctant to let others touch Shen Zhiyi’s paintings, so she learned to frame them herself.She bought framing tools and materials, and started exploring little by little in the studio, often spending a whole day working on them.Sometimes if she accidentally scratches the drawing paper, she will shed tears of distress and carefully repair it with glue until no trace is visible.She framed every painting extremely delicately, using the best photo frames. She wanted Shen Zhiyi’s works to be presented in front of everyone in the most perfect manner.
She had already decided on the name of the exhibition – “Fog Harbor Without You”.Wugang is the place where they met and fell in love. It has their best memories. But now, Wugang is still the same, but Shen Zhiyi is no longer there.This name is not only the longing for Shen Zhiyi, but also the regret for this love that ended in vain.
She decided to organize the art exhibition as a charity exhibition, which is free and open to the public. All donations received will be used for relief and psychological counseling for patients with depression.She is well aware of the pain of depression and how much torture Shen Zhiyi endured during his lifetime.She hopes that through this exhibition, more people will pay attention to patients with depression and provide them with understanding and care instead of prejudice and discrimination.
To promote the exhibition, she designed posters herself.The background of the poster is the seaside of Fog Harbor, where the fog is thick. A lonely girl’s back is standing on the rocks, holding a paintbrush in her hand, looking into the distance.In the center of the poster is a painting by Shen Zhiyi – “Heng in the Fog”. The painting is of Wugang’s studio. There is a blurry figure standing at the door, that is herself.At the bottom of the poster, there is the name of the exhibition “Fog Harbor Without You”, and a line of small words: “Every painting is her unspoken love; every stroke of color is her tenderness towards the world.”
She took the posters throughout the streets of Wugang and posted them on community bulletin boards, bookstores, cafes, and schools.She also posted news about the art exhibition online, attaching some of Shen Zhiyi’s paintings and their stories.Unexpectedly, the news spread quickly on the Internet and attracted the attention of many people.
Some people were moved by Shen Zhiyi’s talent, some were moved by their love story, and some resonated with this charity exhibition because they or those around them suffered from depression.Many people left messages online, saying they would definitely come to visit the exhibition and support their charity work.Some companies and social organizations have contacted Lu Wanheng and are willing to provide sponsorship for the exhibition to help her better carry out depression relief work.
Lu Wanheng did not accept large corporate sponsorships, but only some small amounts of material support. She did not want this pure painting exhibition to become commercialized.She used the donations she received to produce a brochure with Shen Zhiyi’s paintings and her story, as well as popular science knowledge about depression.She also set up a message area in the exhibition hall so that visitors can write down their feelings or say a word of encouragement to those suffering from depression.
During the preparations, Lu’s father once sent someone to contact her and said that he was willing to fund a grand art exhibition for her, on the condition that she return to the Lu family and inherit the Lu Group.Lu Wanheng refused without hesitation: “This art exhibition is for Zhiyi, for those who have suffered the same pain as her, not for the fame and fortune of the Lu family. I will never return to the Lu family in my life.”
Her aunt Lu Qinghe came to see her and felt distressed when she saw her haggard appearance. She wanted to help her, but she declined: “Aunt, thank you, but this is between Zhiyi and I. I want to complete it myself.” Lu Qinghe did not force it, but left a sum of money as a charity fund for the art exhibition, and left silently.
The day before the opening, Lu Wanheng was busy in the exhibition hall until late at night.She carefully checks the position of each painting and adjusts the brightness of the lights to ensure that each painting is presented to its best effect.She placed a row of white daisies at the entrance of the exhibition hall, each one delicate and delicate, as if to welcome Shen Zhiyi’s arrival.She also put a lot of pen and paper in the message area, hoping to receive more warm messages.
On the walls of the exhibition hall, in addition to Shen Zhiyi’s paintings, there are also photos of them and a replica of the couple’s bookmark.Lu Wanheng stood in the center of the exhibition hall, looking at the paintings on the wall, looking at the familiar brushstrokes and colors, and seemed to see Shen Zhiyi beside him. He smiled and said to her: “Wanheng, thank you for letting more people see my paintings.”
“Zhiyi, this is the last thing I can do for you.” Lu Wanheng said softly to the empty exhibition hall, tears falling down his cheeks, “I hope your paintings can bring people warmth and strength. I hope those suffering from depression can feel care and hope. I hope the world can have less prejudice and more understanding.”
She walked to the entrance of the exhibition hall and looked at the night outside. The lights of Fog Harbor shone in the night like stars.She knew that many people would come to tomorrow’s art exhibition, some would be moved by Shen Zhiyi’s paintings, and some would remember the girl named Shen Zhiyi.And she will stand here and tell the story of Shen Zhiyi and the love between them to every visitor until everyone leaves.
On the day the exhibition opened, a rare heavy fog fell in Fog Harbor.Thick fog spread from the sea and enveloped the entire city. The visibility was less than five meters. The streets, buildings, and sea surface became blurred, leaving only a white scene, just like the day they first met.
Lu Wanheng arrived at the exhibition hall early.She was wearing Shen Zhiyi’s favorite light blue shirt, her hair was neatly combed, and she put on light makeup on her face. She wanted to look the best to welcome this painting exhibition belonging to Shen Zhiyi.She opened the door of the exhibition hall, and the mist poured in, bringing with it the smell of salty sea breeze, shrouding the entire exhibition hall in a haze.
She walked to the painting “Heng in the Mist” and stood quietly.This painting was painted by Shen Zhiyi shortly after they fell in love. It depicts a studio in the old town of Wugang. The fog is thick and the windows of the studio are open. Sunlight shines in through the fog, casting soft light and shadow on the painting table.At the door of the painting, stood a vague figure, wearing a black shirt and short hair. Although the face could not be seen clearly, Lu Wanheng recognized it at a glance and it was herself.
The fog in the painting intertwined with the heavy fog outside the exhibition hall, as if the scene in the painting came to life, as if she had returned to the morning when they first met, opened the door, and saw the girl sitting by the window painting.
Visitors entered the exhibition hall one after another, mostly young people, as well as some patients with depression and their families.They walked quietly in the exhibition hall, looking at the paintings on the walls, reading the text descriptions, and occasionally exchanging a few words in a low voice, their voices full of emotion and regret.
Some people stopped in front of the painting “No Return Date” for a long time, looking at the lonely studio in the painting, and looking at the words “I love you, but no return date”, and couldn’t help but have red eyes; some people stopped in front of the “Fog Harbor Without You” painting album, flipping through page after page, feeling Shen Zhiyi’s journey from love to death.The emotional changes of hope; some people wrote their feelings in the message area, “May there be no depression in heaven, and may you be well in another world”, “Your paintings are very warm, thank you for making me feel powerful”, “Love has nothing to do with gender, pure love deserves to be respected.”
Lu Wanheng stood in front of the painting “Heng in the Fog” without saying a word, staring closely at the blurry figure in the painting.She could feel the eyes of the people around her and hear their whispers, but she couldn’t care about anything. Her mind was filled with the past between her and Shen Zhiyi.
She thought of the way Shen Zhiyi looked up at her when they first met, with clear eyes and a hint of shyness; she thought of the day they confirmed their relationship, Shen Zhiyi hugged her and said “I will love you forever”; she thought of them watching the sunset together at the beach, Shen Zhiyi leaned on her shoulders and hummed softly; she thought of when she was under house arrest by her father, Shen Zhiyi suffered from depression alone.Tortured, I am still worried about her; I think of her persistence and determination when she searched coastal cities and posted missing persons notices; I think of the sense of fate that they passed each other many times on the beach in Qingchuan, but never met; I think of her collapse when she received the call from the police, and her despair when she saw Shen Zhiyi’s body; I think of the hand-painted daisy when Shen Zhiyi was buried, and the endless thoughts in her heart.
Tears welled up without warning, slid down her cheeks, and dripped on her clothes, leaving a small water stain.She didn’t wipe it and let her tears flow freely. All her thoughts, guilt, pain, and regrets turned into tears at this moment and poured out.
How she wished she could turn back time. Back to the day when they first met, she would walk into the studio without hesitation and tell Shen Zhiyi “I like you”; back to the day when she was put under house arrest by her father, she would try her best to break free and run to Shen Zhiyi and tell her “I will not give up on you.””; Going back to the day when Shen Zhiyi fell ill in Qingchuan, she would be with her, taking care of her, protecting her, and not letting her suffer the pain alone; going back to the last moment of Shen Zhiyi’s life, she would hold her tightly and tell her “I love you, we will always be together.”
But time cannot be turned back, and all “overthinking” is in vain.After all, she missed her, lost her, lost her forever.
The figure in the painting is her in Shen Zhiyi’s heart, the one who makes her heart beat, makes her brave, and makes her despair.But in reality, she failed to protect the girl who loved her, failed to let her live a happy life, and even failed to stay with her in her last days.
“Zhiyi, I’m sorry.” She said silently in her heart, “I’m sorry, I’m late; I’m sorry, I failed to protect you; I’m sorry, I let you bear so much alone; I’m sorry, I love you, but I failed to make you feel safe enough.”
The fog is getting thicker and thicker, and through the windows of the pavilion, the outside world becomes blurry.The sunlight tried to penetrate the fog, but could only emit a faint light in the fog. Like Shen Zhiyi’s last hope before his death, it was still swallowed by darkness.
Lu Wanheng’s body was shaking uncontrollably, his tears flowed more fiercely, his vision gradually blurred, and the figure in the painting became more hazy.She stretched out her hand, wanting to touch the figure in the painting, wanting to touch the person she had missed for countless days and nights, but all she could touch with her fingertips was the cold canvas.
“Zhiyi, I miss you so much.” Her voice was choked with sobs, with a strong nasal tone, almost out of tune, “I really miss you so much, would you come back? I will never let you be alone again, never again.”
When the surrounding visitors saw her appearance, they walked away silently, leaving her a private space.Someone quietly handed over a tissue, his eyes full of sympathy and understanding.Lu Wanheng took the tissue, but it was of no use. He just held it tightly in his hand, feeling the faint warmth.
She stood like this in front of the painting, crying for a long time, until her tears dried up, her voice became hoarse, and she leaned against the wall weakly.She looked at the figure in the painting, at the paintings on the wall, at this exhibition hall full of Shen Zhiyi’s atmosphere, and there was only endless emptiness and sadness in her heart.
The heavy fog in Fog Harbor still hasn’t dissipated, as if it is about to swallow up the entire city.This heavy fog, like the love between them, is beautiful and hazy, but it eventually dissipates in time.The art exhibition “Fog Harbor Without You” is still going on, and Shen Zhiyi’s paintings are still touching every visitor, but the girl with love hidden inside and outside the paintings will never come back.
Lu Wanheng slowly closed his eyes, feeling the mist, as if he was back to the morning when they first met. Shen Zhiyi looked up at her and said with a smile: “Hello, my name is Shen Zhiyi.” And she responded with a smile: “Hello, my name is Lu Wanheng.”
Only this time, after waking up from the dream, there was no longer the girl named Shen Zhiyi, only the heavy fog in Wugang and the wound in her heart that would never heal.
Banxia novel, a lot of fun