When The Snow Falls In Autumn Chapter 35

Chapter 35

The tip of the dark blue umbrella hung on the hook behind the dormitory door, dripping with water.The water droplets gathered on the ground below, spreading out a small trace of darker color, and the edge spread slowly and stubbornly to all sides.Ye Qiulan squatted on the ground, holding a rag in his hand, staring at the water stains, but did not wipe it away.The rough fibers of the fabric touched the palms of my hands, and the coolness penetrated through my skin.

Her canvas bag was thrown at her feet, open, revealing the corners of the papers inside that were carefully protected and had not been wetted by rain.There is still moisture in the air, mixed with the inherent light musty smell and old wood smell of the old dormitory building.In the corridor, there were faint sounds of other dormitories closing their doors, talking and laughing, and faucets running water. It was muffled, like another world through the door panel.

She maintained her squatting position until her calves felt a numbing pain.Then he moved, instead of standing up, he knelt down.The rag pressed against the water stain, soaked up with water and became heavy.She turned on the water, and the dirty water flowed into the sink between her fingers, and it was biting cold.After repeating it several times, only a vague wet mark was left on the ground, and the shape could no longer be seen.

When he stood up, his vision went dark for a moment.She held onto the doorframe to steady herself and took a deep breath.The air in the room was still heavy.She walked to the window and opened a crack.The night wind rushed in immediately, bringing with it a deeper chill after the rain, blowing away the dullness in the room, and also blowing the umbrella behind the door.The umbrella surface shook slightly, and the water droplets fell faster, leaving several new and smaller spots on the freshly wiped ground.

Ye Qiulan didn’t care anymore.She closed the window, leaving only a small crack.Then he walked back to the desk and turned on the lamp.

A warm yellow halo spread out, illuminating a small area of ​​the table.She took out everything in the canvas bag.Textbooks, notebooks, photocopied materials, and a copy of the tree diagram marked “local chronicle clue (leaf)”.There were some wrinkles on the paper. She smoothed it carefully with her palms, and her fingertips brushed against Ling Xue’s strong handwriting.

“This discovery is very valuable.”

The voice seemed to be still in my ears, calm and sure.She looked at the circled word “leaf” and her heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason.Not because of being affirmed, but because… Ling Xueqing remembered it.Remember that the clue came from her and mark it solemnly.In Ling Xueqing’s rigorous and almost harsh system, she was left with a clear position.

Before the warmth brought by this knowledge spreads, another, heavier thing pressed up.She thought of Ling Xueqing’s shoulders that were wet by the rain, of her hand that took away her backpack without any reason, of the hat that was gently pulled up on top of her head, carrying the scent of the other person’s body temperature.Every time, it was Ling Xueqing who acted, gave, and drew safe boundaries.And she seemed to be unable to give anything except passive acceptance, or in other words, except for occasionally contributing a little insignificant “value” within the academic field defined by the other party.

Even a decent thank you rolled up in his throat and finally turned into a dry “thank you”.I couldn’t even push the umbrella forward a little.

The sour feeling is stuck deep in the throat, neither rising nor falling.She put down the copy and picked up her notebook.Turning it over, she found the tree diagram drawn by Ling Xueqing during the afternoon discussion, which she copied next to it. The lines were clean and the logic was clear.Her eyes fell on the “Epitaph/Stone Citation Search” branch, with a small question mark next to it.This is the part for which she takes the initiative.

It must be done well.This idea is extremely clear.Not just for reporting.It’s more like a clumsy attempt to add a little weight to that sophisticated value map.

She turned on her computer and logged into the school library’s document retrieval system.The page loads slowly and the cursor flickers.She entered keywords: “Liu Zongyuan”, “Epitaph”, “Tang Dynasty”, “Stone Carvings”.The search results pop up, with many entries mixed with a lot of irrelevant information.She took a deep breath and started filtering through them one by one.

Time passes quietly with mouse clicks and keyboard typing.It was completely dark outside the window, with only the halo of distant streetlights outlining the vague outline of the camphor trees.Her roommate hadn’t come back yet, and she was alone in the dormitory with the low hum of the computer fan.

I don’t know how long it took, but my neck became stiff and sore.She leaned back and rubbed her eyes.Several abstracts of potentially relevant papers were opened on the screen, as well as several indexes of electronic epitaph rubbings to be viewed.The initial scope was more complex than she imagined, requiring more precise keywords and screening strategies.

She closed her eyes tiredly.However, Ling Xueqing’s calm and sharp eyes and the smooth and clear logical lines in his writing when he analyzed the problem in the afternoon jumped out of his mind uncontrollably.If it were Ling Xueqing, how would she deal with this messy information?Instead of diving in and rummaging blindly, she would build a screening framework and prioritize.

Ye Qiulan sat upright again and created a new document.Trying to imitate Ling Xueqing’s idea, I listed several screening dimensions: proximity to Liu Zongyuan (immediate family members, close friends, disciples, colleagues), time when the epitaph was written (the closer the better), the place where the epitaph was unearthed (the degree of overlap with Liu Zongyuan’s activity area)…

After writing a few lines, she stopped again.This requires more background knowledge, and what she currently has is far from enough.A familiar feeling of powerlessness in the face of the huge unknown quietly spread.

At this moment, the phone vibrated on the desktop.

The screen lights up with a new message.From Ling Xueqing.

Ye Qiulan’s heartbeat suddenly accelerated.She stared at the name for two seconds before reaching for the phone.

The message is very short, only one sentence:

“I have applied for the access rights to the database for you, and it will take effect tomorrow. The account number and initial password will be sent to your email.”

No greetings, no pleasantries.Direct and efficient.She didn’t even mention “local chronicle clues”, as if this was just a logical step in her division of labor.

Ye Qiulan stared at the news blankly.The stagnation in the chest that was mixed with fatigue and powerlessness seemed to have been gently pried open by these words.Ling Xueqing not only remembered her clues, but also quietly cleared an obstacle for her to follow up.Before she even realized what she needed.

She clicked on her mailbox, and sure enough there was a new email, a system notification from the Library’s Special Collections Department.Attached is a temporary access account and password, as well as simple instructions for use.

She held the phone, her fingertips feeling cold.Want to reply with something.Say “thank you”?Too light.Say “received”?Too blunt.Ask “How do you know I need this”?And it seems too… dependent, or stupid.

His fingers hovered above the screen, hesitant.

The screen dimmed, reflecting her own somewhat confused face.She pressed it again, and there was still only Ling Xueqing’s brief message in the dialog box.

In the end, she only typed two words: “Received.” Send.

Almost the next second after the message showed “Delivered”, a prompt “The other party is typing…” appeared at the top of the dialog box.Ye Qiulan held his breath.

After a few seconds, the prompt disappears.No new messages coming.

She waited for a while, and the screen went completely dark.

The warmth that had just arisen in my heart, together with the chaotic words that had not been sent out, slowly settled down and turned into something more complex and heavy.Ling Xueqing always gave her just the right help when she needed it, but always stayed behind that clear dividing line and never crossed it.Just like that umbrella, you can hand it to her, you can protect her from the rain, you can send her back, but in the end, the umbrella belongs to her, and she has to walk her own way.

Ye Qiulan put his phone on the table.His eyes returned to the computer screen and the complicated search terms.Ling Xueqing has opened the door for her, and she needs to walk the next step by herself.

She gripped the mouse again, clicked on the abstract of a paper that looked the most promising, and began to read it carefully.This time, it was easier to focus.Those difficult terminology and intricate character relationships no longer seem so daunting.

It’s late at night.The roommate came back quietly, washed up, and went to bed, and soon the sound of even breathing could be heard.Ye Qiulan was still under the lamp.She sorted out the first list of epitaphs that needed to be reviewed and copied them into a notebook.My wrists are sore and my eyes are dry, but my thinking is much clearer than at the beginning.

Before turning off the computer, she subconsciously glanced at her phone again.No new news.

She stood up, walked behind the door, and took off the dark blue umbrella.The umbrella surface is dry and slightly cool to the touch.She walked to the balcony, shook it slightly, stretched it out, and checked it out.The ribs of the umbrella are intact and the fabric is dense. Only the edge stitching is slightly darker in color, showing signs of being soaked by rain.She closed the umbrella, carefully wiped the handle and ribs with a clean soft cloth, and then leaned it against the corner next to her desk.

After doing this, she went to wash up.The cold water splashed on my face, taking away some fatigue.The figure in the mirror has a faint green shadow under his eyes.

Lie down on the bed and turn off the light.Darkness swallowed everything in an instant.Only in the far distance outside the window, the city’s ever-extinguishing light pollution casts a hazy gleam on the ceiling.

She opened her eyes and looked at the blurry halo.In his mind are no longer chaotic information and clues, but many broken pictures: the shaking light spots on the long table of the library, the slight frown between Ling Xueqing’s eyebrows when she lowered her head to write, the tilted umbrella in the rain curtain, the shadow and atmosphere when the sweater and hat fell, and the brief, emotionless notification on the mobile phone screen.

She rolled over in the dark, facing the wall.His fingers curled up unconsciously, and it was as if he could still feel the cool touch of the umbrella handle on his fingertips, as well as the warm breath of fabric that passed by when the hat fell.

The night is very late.The long and vague whistle of a passing train could be heard faintly in the distance, quickly dissipating into the silence.We will continue tomorrow, sorting out information, checking epitaphs, and advancing the clue marked with the word “Ye”.The road is still long.

She closed her eyes and let exhaustion slowly drag her consciousness into chaos.The last clear perception is the silent outline of the umbrella in the corner, against the dim light outside the window, like a quiet coordinate that cannot be ignored, marking something that is slowly fermenting after this rainy night but is still unclear.