When The Snow Falls In Autumn Chapter 62

Chapter 62

Classroom 107, on the east side of the first floor of the School of History, is rarely used in normal times and only serves as a temporary examination room at the end of the semester, or, as now, it is requisitioned as a preparation point for small special exhibitions.There is a dull, slightly musty smell in the air, a mixture of old chalk dust and the wood of old tables and chairs.Several tall windows faced east, and the morning sunlight could barely shine in. In the afternoon, there was only a uniform, slightly bleak white light left in the room, coming from a few rows of old but extremely bright fluorescent tubes overhead.

Several long desks that were temporarily moved were put together and covered with dark green dust-proof velvet to serve as exhibition stands.Several items were already placed on the flannel: an open special glass display box, which was padded with black velvet and was empty; several copies of Qing Dynasty land deeds and family account books contained in transparent folders, fixed with metal battens; and several simple tools for repairing ancient books – brown brushes, tweezers, watering cans, and acid-free lining paper, arranged as neatly as surgical instruments.

Ling Xueqing stood on the side of the booth, frowning slightly, holding a printed list of exhibit descriptions in her hand and checking them one by one.Today she wore a light khaki work-style shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing her clear forearms.Her long dark hair was tied loosely into a bun on the back of her head and fixed with a simple wooden hairpin, with a few strands of hair hanging down the side of her neck.Her side face looked extremely focused under the fluorescent lamp, her lips were slightly pursed, and from time to time she would lightly tap on the list with her fingertips, and then raise her eyes to look at the corresponding exhibit or reserved position.

Ye Qiulan stood a few steps behind her, holding in his arms a large cardboard box that had just been taken from the hospital’s reference room, which contained the last few objects to be exhibited – several scrolls of replicas of Qing Dynasty local chronicles maps that had been initially restored.The box was a little heavy, so she adjusted her posture, but her eyes fell on Ling Xueqing involuntarily.

This is a small internal preview organized by the college to cooperate with the theme publicity week of “Local Document Protection and Utilization”, mainly for teachers and students in related majors on campus.Ling Xuequing’s research direction and her previous “Yun Yun Pavilion” report were selected as one of the showcase cases.Teacher Zhao named her to be responsible for the preparation of physical exhibits and sorting out explanations for this part of the content, and Ye Qiulan was assigned to assist because of his “high early participation”.

When Ye Qiulan received the notice, the sourness in Ye Qiulan’s heart quietly resurfaced.”Assist” again.But more than anything, it was a complex emotion mixed with secret expectations and uneasiness.This means that they will have several days to spend together frequently, in this temporary, semi-isolated space from the outside world.

At this moment, looking at Ling Xueqing’s meticulous checklist, the sourness seemed to be temporarily suppressed by a purer, almost appreciative emotion.Ling Xueqing’s working state always has a quiet and powerful attraction.

“Give me the scroll.” Ling Xueqing said without looking back, her eyes still fixed on the list.

Ye Qiulan hurriedly stepped forward, carefully placed the carton on an empty chair next to the booth, then opened the lid of the box and took out the top scroll carefully wrapped in acid-free paper.She untied the laces and handed both ends of the scroll to Ling Xueqing.

Ling Xueqing then turned around and reached out to take it.Her fingertips inevitably touched Ye Qiulan’s fingers. It was very brief, and the touch was instant, with a slight chill.The two of them each held one end and slowly unfolded the scroll on the stand.

It is a high-definition reproduction scroll of the “General Map of the Mountains and Rivers of Yongzhou Prefecture”. The year of the painting is unknown, but the style is crude. The landscape is outlined with simple lines, and the towns, passes, and Tianjin ferry are marked with dense small regular script.The paper has been aged and treated, showing a uniform light brown color, and there are imitation traces of moth damage and water stains on the edges, striving to restore the texture of ancient maps.

Ling Xueqing’s eyes were immediately attracted to the map.She leaned forward slightly and carefully examined the details on the drawing. Her fingertips hovered above the drawing and moved slowly along the direction of a certain water system.Ye Qiulan stood opposite her and looked down.A ray of sunlight slanted in from the window and fell in the center of the drawing, illuminating the main trunk and several main tributaries of the “Xiang River”.

“Guixi is here.” Ling Xueqing suddenly spoke, her voice low and calm at work.Her fingertips stopped at a very thin waterway in the southwest corner of the map marked “Gui Xi”.The waterway is as thin as a hair, winding into a halo pattern that represents the mountains.”The map is simple, only the main veins are marked. The location of the ‘Yiyun Pavilion’ we found before should be at the southeastern foot of this mountainous area, near the turning point of the stream.”

As she spoke, she picked up a thin black marker from the side with her other hand, and lightly and lightly touched an almost invisible dot on the transparent protective film covering the map.The position was precise, just slightly below where her fingertips had just hovered.

Ye Qiulan looked at the small dot, and then at Ling Xueqing’s focused profile.She remembered all their previous research, those boring local records, and those blurry map lines, which were transformed into this specific and micro coordinate under Ling Xueqing’s clear thinking and steady fingers.A strange feeling, mixed with academic resonance and deeper throbbing, quietly grew in her heart.

“And this,” Ling Xueqing straightened up and pulled out a piece of A4 paper from another stack of folders on the booth. On it was an enlarged, image-processed part of the original ink marks of the words “Guixi” and “Yiyun” on the ancient map.”The ink is dark and deep into the paper. It is the original work, not added later. The vague symbol of a pavilion next to it,” she used the tip of her pen to point an extremely abstract small square, “can correspond to the record of ‘Yiyun Pavilion, on the shore of Guixi River in the west of the county’ in “Chenghua Huguang Tongzhi”.”

Her explanation is concise and objective, like analyzing a case in class.But Ye Qiulan could hear the subtle hint of… cherishment in that calm tone?In other words, it is an almost obsessive confirmation of the historical authenticity contained in these fragile clues.

After checking the map scroll, Ling Xueqing carefully re-rolled it, put it into the special glass display box, adjusted the angle and fixed the buckles.Then she picked up the list and looked at the next item.

“Mother’s Memory Supplementary Illustration…” She read out this item, her voice paused almost imperceptibly, and her brows furrowed slightly, as if she had some…resistance to this item?In other words, it’s difficult.

Ye Qiulan’s heart also lifted.She knew that Ling Xueqing had hand-drawn the map of her mother’s hometown.Could it be that…she wants to show it in public?

Ling Xueqing was silent for a few seconds, then walked to the other end of the booth and took out a flat, dark blue hard-shell folder from her dark canvas bag.She opened the folder. Inside was not the detailed hand-drawn map, but several simple schematic diagrams drawn and printed on a computer.The lines are clean, with only key water systems, mountains and a few place names marked with question marks.There is a simple text description next to it: “Compiled based on oral data, for reference only, not strictly historical geography.”

She spread these diagrams on the booth and fixed them with strips.His movements were slow and careful, as if he were dealing with something extremely fragile.Her eyes fell on those simple lines and question marks, and her eyes were a little vacant, as if she were looking through these cold symbols into some distant and vague time and space.

Ye Qiulan stood aside and watched quietly.She could feel Ling Xueqing’s whole body exuding an aura that was calmer than usual, but also more lonely.Those simplified schematic diagrams are like the traces of a daughter’s inability to salvage her mother’s broken memories.Every question mark is a gap that cannot be filled, a river that has long since disappeared, a village that can never be found again.

“Here,” Ling Xueqing’s fingertips gently clicked on one of the diagrams, next to a river marked “Ruishui(?)” indicated by a dotted line, “My mother insisted that there is a kind of grass by the river. In spring, there is a small blue-white flower with cold fragrance. She often picked it when she was a child.” Her voice was low, as if talking to herself, and as if she was talking to Ye Qiulan, “I checked a lot of flora, but nothing is completely consistent. Maybe… it’s just the feeling in her memory.”

Ye Qiulan remembered the previous discussion about “Qing Ai”.She didn’t speak, she just leaned closer and looked at the dotted line of “Ruishui” and the small word “Lengxiang” written by Ling Xueqing next to it.The sourness in my heart surged up again, not for myself, but for Ling Xueqing’s silent, hopeless pursuit, and the helplessness of trying to turn private memories into cold exhibits for others to watch…?

Ling Xueqing seemed to be aware of her approach and silence.She raised her eyes and looked at Ye Qiulan.Under the fluorescent lamp, her eyes were very dark and deep, and Ye Qiulan’s concerned and complicated face was clearly reflected in them.

Their eyes met.This time, Ling Xueqing did not move away immediately.She just looked at Ye Qiulan quietly for several seconds.There is scrutiny and measurement in her eyes, and perhaps a very faint hint of…dependence that even she herself may not be aware of?Or is it a desire to be understood?

Then, very softly, almost inaudibly, she sighed.The sigh was too light and quickly dissipated in the dull air in the classroom.

“Sometimes,” she lowered her head again and looked at the schematic diagrams, her voice was softer and slower than before, “I feel that these…have no meaning. The river has long since changed its course, I don’t know what the grass is, and the name of the place has changed. Even if she finds it, it will not be the same as in her memory.”

This was the first time that Ling Xueqing had expressed his doubts and exhaustion about the pursuit itself so directly.She is no longer the calm, strong, always methodical scholar, but just a daughter who feels powerless between her mother’s increasingly blurred memories and the ruthless oblivion of reality.

Ye Qiulan’s heart was severely pinched.My throat feels tight and my eyes feel hot.She wanted to say something, words of comfort, words of encouragement, or just an expression of understanding.But all the words seemed so pale and feeble.In the end, she just stretched out her hand, not to touch Ling Xueqing, but gently and carefully smoothed out a slight crease on the schematic diagram caused by the pressure strip not being fully in place.

Her fingertips touched the cold paper and seemed to brush the back of Ling Xueqing’s hand lying beside her.Very light and very fast.

Ling Xueqing’s body trembled almost imperceptibly.She raised her head and looked at Ye Qiulan again.This time, there was no scrutiny or measurement in her eyes, only a deep, almost exhausted calmness, and a hint of… subtle looseness that was soothed by the gentle touch.

She didn’t speak, but nodded almost imperceptibly to Ye Qiulan.Then, she withdrew her gaze and placed the last exhibit – the closed, dark blue, hard-shell notebook with a complete hand-drawn map (this time not opened), carefully placed it on a separate small stand next to the schematic diagram, and lightly covered it with a transparent acrylic cover.

“That’s it.” She straightened up and her voice returned to its usual calmness, but if you listened carefully, you could detect a subtle hint of hoarseness. “I’ll send you the explanation later. The preview will start tomorrow at nine o’clock in the morning.”

“Yes.” Ye Qiulan responded in a low voice.

Ling Xueqing began to pack her things.There were only two of them left in the classroom, the fluorescent lamps made a low hum, and the occasional vague footsteps of students walking outside the window could be heard.

Ye Qiulan also helped tidy up the booth and put excess packaging materials and tools into cartons.Her eyes finally fell on the dark blue notebook under the acrylic cover.The cover is silent and hard, guarding the lonely lines and memories inside that are inaccessible to outsiders.

Ling Xueqing carried her bag, walked to the door of the classroom, and stopped.She did not look back, but turned her face sideways and said to Ye Qiulan who was still at the booth:

“Lock the door.”

After saying that, she opened the door and walked out.The footsteps gradually faded away in the empty corridor.

Ye Qiulan stood there, looking at the slightly shaking door, and then turned to look at the covered notebook on the stand.The sour ocean in my heart is calm at the moment, but it is deeper than ever, reflecting more clearly that figure who is thin, lonely, and burdened with a heavy past, but still retains a soft core under the cold order.

She walked over slowly, checked the fixtures of all the exhibits, and finally turned off the dazzling fluorescent lights in the classroom.Only the remaining skylight outside the window faintly illuminates the silent old papers, lines and memories on the exhibition stand.

She locked the door and turned the key in the keyhole, making a soft “click” sound that was particularly clear in the silent corridor.