The Remaining Warmth Of Fog Harbor Chapter 51

The fog has cleared and you are gone too

The sea in Qingchuan is always shrouded in a thin layer of fog every year in late autumn and November.It’s not the heavy fog that can’t be dissolved in Wugang, but the misty fog that brings the coldness of the mountains. It’s like the brushstrokes often seen in Shen Zhiyi’s paintings during his lifetime. They are light and shallow, but they can penetrate into the softest places in people’s hearts.

This day is Shen Zhiyi’s death anniversary.

Lu Wanheng woke up at five o’clock in the morning.It was not yet bright outside the window, and the mist flowed slowly against the sea, turning the distant rocks into blurry silhouettes.She took out the couple’s bookmark from under the pillow. The wooden surface had been worn as warm as jade by the years. The “S” and “L” engraved on it were already a little faint, but the clear carvings could still be touched.She has carried this bookmark with her for five years. She puts it under her pillow every day when she goes to bed, as if she is holding Shen Zhiyi’s hand to sleep peacefully.

She stood up, her movements slower than when she was younger.Five years have left obvious traces on her body – there are fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, her once neat short hair has been grown and cut until it is always at shoulder length, and there are even a few unnoticeable white hairs sprouting from her temples.She put on a dark gray windbreaker, which was a simple style that Shen Zhiyi liked. There was also a small patch sewn on the collar, which was accidentally torn when sketching at the beach last year. She couldn’t bear to throw it away, so she found a piece of fabric of the same color and patched it up, as if she was cherishing a token related to Shen Zhiyi.

On the bedside table, there is a bouquet of white chrysanthemums that has been prepared.The petals are white and flawless, carrying the morning dew. She went to the flower shop in Qingchuan County to select them yesterday.The shop owner is a young girl. When she met Lu Wanheng for the first time five years ago, she curiously asked her “should it be given to someone very important?” Now there is no need to ask anymore. At this time of year, the freshest white chrysanthemums will be saved for her in advance, and the excess branches and leaves will be carefully cut off and tied with a light blue ribbon – she remembered Lu Wanheng said that Shen Zhiyi likes light blue.

“Girl, is it still the same this year?” The shop owner handed her the white chrysanthemum and a tissue, “It’s windy at the seaside, so I have to wipe my tears.”

Lu Wanheng took the flower, touched the cold petals with her fingertips, and said softly “Thank you.”For five years, everyone in Qingchuan has known that at this time of year, a woman from Wugang will take Bai Ju to the cemetery by the sea to see someone who will never come back.They never took the initiative to inquire, but only used this silent method to give her a tiny bit of warmth.

It takes forty minutes to walk from the hut to the cemetery on the beach.Lu Wanheng did not take a car and chose to walk as always.She has been walking this road for five years and knows every step by heart.The leaves of the sycamore trees on the roadside have fallen and grown longer. Every year around the death anniversary, it happens to be the time when the leaves turn yellow and fall. When you step on them, they make a rustling sound, like Shen Zhiyi’s soft sigh.

She walked slowly, holding Bai Ju tightly in her hand, and put her other hand in her windbreaker pocket, holding the bookmark.The mist wetted her hair, condensed into tiny water droplets at the ends, and slid down her cheeks. She couldn’t tell whether it was mist or tears.She looked up at the sky. The fog was hazy and she couldn’t see the sun. Just like her life over the years, there was no light, only endless longing and loneliness.

Five years ago, she personally buried Shen Zhiyi’s ashes here.The tombstone was carefully selected by her. It is made of light gray marble and has no gorgeous carvings. It only has a line of words engraved on the front: “The lingering warmth of the foggy port, the late life will last forever.” Below is Shen Zhiyi’s name and the dates of his birth and death.On the side of the tombstone, she had someone carve a small daisy, which was Shen Zhiyi’s favorite flower and the first gift she gave to Shen Zhiyi when they first met.

The cemetery is on a gentle slope facing the sea, with a wide view and the entire Qingchuan coastline.Lu Wanheng said that he wanted Shen Zhiyi to always be able to see the sea she loved.She walked to the tombstone, put down the white chrysanthemum first, then squatted down, took out a clean rag from her pocket, and carefully wiped the dust on the tombstone.Her movements were as gentle as stroking Shen Zhiyi’s cheek, over and over again, until the tombstone was wiped spotless and could reflect the mist in the sky.

“Zhiyi, I’m here.” Her voice was hoarse, with the fatigue accumulated over the years, but still gentle, “I also brought you the white chrysanthemum you like this year. Look, it’s still so fresh.”

She took out the couple’s bookmark from her pocket and placed it gently in front of the tombstone.Every year on the anniversary of her death, she would bring a replica bookmark. Over the past five years, there have been five placed in front of the tombstone, protected by a transparent glass cover and will not be damaged by wind or rain.She always felt that these bookmarks could accompany Shen Zhiyi for her, just like they were inseparable back then.

After doing all this, she sat on the stone steps next to the tombstone, leaning against the cold tombstone, as if nestled in Shen Zhiyi’s arms.The sea breeze blew by, carrying a salty breath, blowing her hair, and also blowing the petals of the white chrysanthemum, making a tiny sound.She looked at the sea in front of her. The fog gradually dissipated, and the sun penetrated the clouds, casting mottled light and shadow on the sea.

“Zhiyi, look, the fog has cleared.” She said softly, with a bitter smile in her voice, “Just like the fog in Fog Harbor back then, it will always clear. But when the fog clears, you are gone too.”

She would say this sentence every year, over and over again, as if she was reminding herself, and also as if she was telling Shen Zhiyi.The fog will lift and the sunshine will come out, but in her world, there has never been real light since Shen Zhiyi left.

“The sea in Qingchuan is still so blue this year, just like the one in your painting.” She began to talk about the events of this year, as if Shen Zhiyi was still listening. “The owner of the painting supplies store gave birth to a daughter, named Niannian. She said that she hoped that the child could remember the important people in her life. I painted a painting for Niannian. It was about the seaside in Qingchuan. She liked it very much and said that when she grows up, she wants to be a painter like you.”

“Old Mrs. Chen in the hut is in good health, but her eyesight is getting blurry and she has to wear reading glasses when sewing clothes. She still often makes me your favorite vegetable and tofu soup. The taste is the same as before, and I can drink two big bowls every time.”

“I copied all your paintings this year, including the painting “No Return”. On the day I finished the painting, I sat in the studio and cried for a long time. I seemed to finally understand the despair in your paintings, the pain of not being able to love. But I still can’t paint the light in your eyes, or the love you have for me.”

“Over at Wugang, my aunt visited me once last year and said that the Lu Group is now taken over by my cousin. My father is not in good health and has been talking about me. But I don’t want to go back. Without you there, it is no longer home for me. With you in Qingchuan, this is my home.”

She just sat like this, talking, from early morning to noon.The sun gradually rose, the fog completely dissipated, the sea became clear and translucent, and occasional fishing boats passing by in the distance could be seen.Her voice went from calm at first, to choked up, and finally to sobbing. Her tears fell like broken beads on the grass in front of the tombstone, moistening the soil.

“Zhiyi, I miss you so much.” She lay on the tombstone, her shoulders shaking violently. “In the past five years, I have been thinking about you every day, the days we spent in Wuhan, the way we looked at the sea together, and the way you smiled. I try to live a good life, try to be happy as you want, but I can’t do it. Every day without you is so long and so painful.”

“I know that you definitely don’t want me to be like this and hope that I can live a good life. But I can’t do it. I can’t forget you and let you go. You are the only person I have ever loved in my life, and you are also the person I will never lose in my life.”

“They say that time can heal all wounds, but my wounds have become deeper and deeper as time goes by. Every year on this day, I will clearly remember that the day you left, the fog in Qingchuan was just like today, thin, but very cold. When I rushed to the police station, you were lying there. I called your name, but you didn’t respond; I hugged you, and your body was cold. At that moment, I felt that the whole world collapsed.”

She cried for a long time until her tears dried up and her throat became so hoarse that she could no longer make a sound.She raised her head and looked at the inscriptions on the tombstone. Her fingertips gently touched the words “Wan Yi Lifelong” and silently recited in her heart: “Zhiyi, I said that I will accompany you for the rest of my life. I did it, although it was in this way.”

The sunshine at noon was a bit dazzling. She took out an umbrella from her backpack, opened it, and placed it over the tombstone, as if to shield Shen Zhiyi from the sun.She just sat quietly, accompanying Shen Zhiyi until the sun set.

Before leaving, she left the couple’s bookmark she carried with her in front of the tombstone, along with the other five.She touched the tombstone and said softly: “Zhiyi, I will come to see you next year. You have to be good and wait for me.”

She stood up and walked back slowly.The setting sun stretched her shadow very long, reflecting alone on the grass, overlapping with the shadow of the tombstone, like an embrace across the yin and yang.The sea breeze blew by, carrying the fragrance of white chrysanthemums, as if it was Shen Zhiyi’s farewell.

It was dark when we got back to the cabin.The old lady left hot food for her, but she had no appetite. She just sat on the bench in the yard and looked at the sea in the distance.The moon has risen, shining on the sea with sparkling light.She remembered that Shen Zhiyi once said that the moon is the embodiment of longing and can bring longing to people far away.

“Zhiyi, have you received my thoughts?” she asked softly, her voice dissipated in the sea breeze.

What answered her was endless silence and the sound of waves lapping at the shore, which never changed year after year.

Another decade.

Lu Wanheng is forty-three years old.The years have carved deep marks on her body. Most of her hair has turned gray, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes are piled together. When she smiles, she looks a bit vicissitudes of life.Her figure is also much thinner than when she was young, her back is slightly hunched, and her walking pace is slower, but she is still tall and straight, with a stubborn determination.

In the past ten years, she still stayed in Qingchuan, guarded the B&B where Shen Zhiyi lived before his death, and guarded the tombstone by the sea.She has never left Qingchuan, and has never seen anyone in Wugang again, including her aunt Lu Qinghe.Lu Qinghe passed away five years ago. Before her death, her trustee brought her a letter. The letter said that her father had long regretted it and wanted her to go back to Wugang for a visit, but she still did not go back after all.Her world is very small, so small that there are only the sea in Qingchuan, Shen Zhiyi’s paintings, and the cold tombstone.

She still repeats the same life every day as she has for the past fifteen years.Get up early in the morning and water the succulents on the windowsill – they were planted by Shen Zhiyi, and now they have grown into a full pot full of vitality; then she sits in front of the easel, copying Shen Zhiyi’s works. Her painting skills have long been perfected, and the Qingchuan landscape in her paintings is almost exactly the same as Shen Zhiyi’s, but it lacks a trace of aura and adds a bit more lingering loneliness.

In the morning, she would go to the art supply store to buy drawing paper and paint.The young shopkeeper back then has become the landlady, and his daughter Niannian has grown into a graceful young girl who will look after the shop with her mother.Niannian likes Lu Wanheng very much and always pesters her to teach her how to draw. Lu Wanheng never refuses and patiently teaches her how to hold a brush and adjust colors, just like Shen Zhiyi taught her back then.

“Aunt Lu, the sea you painted is so beautiful. It’s the same as what my mother said Aunt Shen painted.” Niannian took her painting and ran to Lu Wanheng, her eyes bright.

Lu Wanheng touched her head, and a slight smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. It was one of the few smiles she had in these years: “Aunt Shen taught her well.”

She never told Niannian her story with Shen Zhiyi, but occasionally mentioned that “Aunt Shen is a very gentle and talented person.”She didn’t want this heavy longing to affect her young life.

At noon, she was still eating nearby. The old couple were no longer here, and the B&B was passed on to their son.The new boss also knew Lu Wanheng’s story and took special care of her, always cooking light meals for her, just like the old couple did back then.

In the afternoon, she would still go to the beach to sketch and sit on the rock where Shen Zhiyi often sat.It’s just that her health is getting worse and worse, and she can’t sit for long periods of time. She can only stand up and move after drawing for a while.Her hands occasionally trembled, and the lines she drew were no longer as smooth as before, but she still insisted on drawing a picture every day, painting the sea in Qingchuan, the mountains in Qingchuan, and the sunset in Qingchuan, as if she was recording every change here for Shen Zhiyi.

She changed her evening walk to a slow walk, taking breaks after walking for a while.She would still take out the badly worn couple’s bookmark, hold it in her hand, and feel the temperature on it.The sea breeze blew through her clothes more than before, causing her to cough a few times.Her health was getting worse and worse. The root causes of the disease when she was young, coupled with years of depression and longing, made her often feel exhausted, but she still refused to go to the hospital. She just bought some commonly used medicines and kept them by her side.

Every year on Shen Zhiyi’s death anniversary, she would still take Bai Ju to the tombstone.It’s just that she can no longer walk for forty minutes. The new boss will drive her there and wait for her at the bottom of the mountain.The time she spent sitting next to the tombstone became shorter and shorter, and she spoke less and less. Most of the time, she just leaned against the tombstone quietly and looked at the sea, as if she was sharing this moment of tranquility with Shen Zhiyi.

“Zhiyi, the fog has cleared, and so have you.” She still said this every year, her voice getting weaker and weaker, but still clear, like an obsession engraved in her bones.

On the death anniversary of this year, there was a rare heavy rain in Qingchuan.The rain hit the tombstone, making a crackling sound, and the waves on the sea were rough, as if crying for Shen Zhiyi.Lu Wanheng sat in the car, looking at the heavy rain outside the window, but did not get out of the car.The new boss advised her: “Aunt Lu, it’s raining too much. Come and see Aunt Shen next year.”

Lu Wanheng shook his head, stubbornly opened the car door, held up an umbrella, and walked into the rain.The rain quickly wet her clothes and stuck coldly to her skin, making her shiver.She walked towards the tombstone step by step, her steps staggering a little, but extremely firm.

She placed the white chrysanthemum in front of the tombstone and protected it with an umbrella to prevent the rain from getting the petals wet.Then she squatted down and wiped the rainwater on the tombstone with trembling hands, over and over again.”Zhiyi, I’m here to see you.” Her voice was drowned by the sound of rain and could hardly be heard. “It’s raining heavily this year. Will you feel cold?”

She didn’t say much, just sat quietly by the tombstone until the rain stopped.The setting sun penetrates the clouds, reflecting a beautiful rainbow in the sky, spanning the sea, gorgeous and short-lived.”Zhiyi, look, the rainbow.” She said with a smile, but tears fell down her cheeks, “You like the rainbow the most, saying it is a symbol of hope. But my hope has long gone with you.”

When she left, her body could no longer hold up. The new boss supported her and slowly walked back to the car.When she returned to the B&B, she developed a high fever and lay in bed groggy, chanting Shen Zhiyi’s name all the time.The new boss found a doctor for her. The doctor said that she was suffering from long-term depression and the invasion of wind and cold. Her body was extremely weak and she needed to be taken care of.

But Lu Wanheng didn’t take good care of himself.She still paints, watches the sea, and walks every day, but the frequency gradually decreases.Her memory is getting worse and worse, and she sometimes forgets what she has just done, but she has not forgotten the anniversary of Shen Zhiyi’s death, the couple’s bookmark, or the sentence “The fog has cleared, and you are gone.”

Two years later, Lu Wanheng was forty-five years old.

In the late autumn of this year, her body completely collapsed.She lay in bed and never got up.The new boss hired a nurse to take care of her food and daily life.She spends less and less time awake, and spends most of her time sleeping. Her dreams are filled with scenes related to Shen Zhiyi—the studio in Wugang, the sunset by the sea, the mountains and rivers of Qingchuan, and Shen Zhiyi’s gentle smile.

One day, she suddenly woke up and asked the nurse to help her to the window.The sky outside the window is very blue, the sunshine is very good, and the sea is calm, like a peaceful painting.She stretched out her hand, wanting to touch the sunshine outside the window, but she couldn’t touch anything.

“Zhiyi,” she whispered, her voice so weak that it was almost inaudible, “the fog has cleared, and so have you.”

The nurse looked at her and couldn’t help crying.She knew that in this old man’s heart, there was a deep and desperate love, and a person who could never be forgotten.

One morning a few days later, Lu Wanheng closed his eyes peacefully in his sleep.In her hand, she held tightly the couple’s bookmark that was so worn that the handwriting could not be read clearly, with a slight smile on her face, as if she had finally met the person she had missed for a long time.

The new boss followed her last wish and buried her ashes together with Shen Zhiyi’s.On the tombstone, in addition to the original “The lingering warmth of the foggy port, I will be with you forever”, there is also a line of small words added: “Lu Wanheng, I will never love again in my life, and I will sleep with you.”

On the day of the joint burial, the fog in Qingchuan was very light and the sunshine was very good.Niannian held a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, placed it in front of the tombstone, and said softly: “Aunt Shen, Aunt Lu, you are finally together.”

The fog in Fog Harbor rises on time every year, shrouding this city full of memories.The wind on the seaside blows year after year, carrying a salty breath, as if it is telling a story of a love that never ends.

The studio in the old city has long since changed its owner. With the promotion of the Art Foundation, Shen Zhiyi’s paintings are known and loved by more and more people. The charity exhibition “Wugang without You” has become a legend in the history of Wugang art. Every year, people will mention the talented but ill-fated female painter and the woman who has been waiting for her all her life.

However, no one knows how beautiful the first meeting in Wugang Studio was; no one knows how regretful it was to miss them at Qingchuan Beach; no one knows the deep love and obsession hidden behind that couple’s bookmark.

The fog cleared and there were no people left.

No matter how the wind blows in Fog Harbor, it will not bring back the remaining warmth of our embrace;

No matter how strong the waves are on the beach, they can’t wash away the longing for the separation between yin and yang.

Their love began in the heavy fog in Wugang and ended in the clear sky in Qingchuan,

All that is left is the handwriting on the tombstone and the love that has been remembered by the years and has no return date.

(Full text ends)

Banxia novel, a lot of fun