第一章 一封信

On Saturday morning, Chen Mo was still sleeping, but his girlfriend Su Lan had already gotten up. She walked to the bed and pushed him hard: "Chen Mo, get up! We're going back to your hometown today!"

Chen Mo pulled the quilt up over his head: "Five more minutes." He had packed their things last night and gone to bed very late.

"Five minutes later or five minutes! You always say that!" Su Lan picked up a pillow and hit him.

Chen Mo stuck his hand out from under the blanket and grabbed the pillow: "Alright, alright, I'm getting up. Why are you so fierce?"

Su Lan put her hands on her hips: "Me fierce? You said we'd leave at nine, and it's already nine o'clock!"

Chen Mo sat up, his hair messed into a mess by Su Lan like a bird's nest. He said quietly, "Did I owe you something in my last life?"

Su Lan was stunned for a moment. She had been smiling, but when he said that, her eyes suddenly became red. She lowered her head and said in a small voice: "In your last life, you did owe me."

The room was quiet for a while. Chen Mo felt puzzled: "What's wrong with you? I was just joking."

Su Lan wiped her eyes: "Nothing. Hurry up and get up, I'll go pack our things." After saying that, she went out.

Chen Mo sat on the bed, not understanding. They had been fine just now, how did she suddenly cry?

At noon, the two arrived at a small town in northern Sichuan. This was Chen Mo's hometown. In recent years, many people in the village had moved away. The old village was empty, and new houses were built on the other side of the town.

Su Lan had come here for the first time and felt it was fresh: "The houses in your village are really old."

"That's the old village, no one has lived there for a long time." Chen Mo pointed it out to her. "Look, there are still a few old houses over there that haven't collapsed."

In the distance, a few blue-tiled houses stood alone on the hillside. The roofs were overgrown with grass, and half of the walls had turned black.

Su Lan looked at those old houses and suddenly said, "I want to go take a look."

"What's there to see? It's all dusty inside." Chen Mo didn't want to go.

"Let's just go and see." Su Lan pulled his arm and said, "Come on, go with me."

The two walked up the hillside. The old house's wooden door was half open, and when the wind blew, it made creaking sounds. Su Lan pushed the door open. Inside was very dark, and the smell of old wood rushed toward her.

She stood at the door and suddenly felt her heart leap. It was strange: she had clearly never been here, but she wasn't afraid at all. She even felt that she had seen this house before.

"Chen Mo," she said, "who do you think used to live in this house?"

"I don't know. I heard from my grandfather that this family moved away a long time ago."

Su Lan didn't speak. She slowly walked into the house, through the main hall, past the kitchen, and finally stopped at the door of a room. Inside the room there was an old wooden cabinet, most of the paint on its door had fallen off.

She walked to the cabinet and opened the door. There were only a few things inside. On top was a wooden box, the wood had darkened to a shiny black, as if it had been touched many, many times.

Su Lan picked up the wooden box. Her hands were trembling a little. She opened the lid, and inside was a letter.

The letter paper was yellow. The words were written with a brush, and she couldn't recognize many characters. But she understood the first few words: "Xiu Lan, my wife, seeing this letter is like seeing me."

"Chen Mo, come and look." Her voice was a little hoarse.

Chen Mo came over, and they looked at the letter together. The letter was only half written. The later characters were messy, as if it had been written in a hurry. The last sentence was: "If I cannot return, you must not wait for me..."

Below that, there were a few more lines, written with extra force: "Xiu Lan, when the osmanthus blooms, I will come back."

Chen Mo finished reading and said in amazement: "This letter... seems unfinished. Did the writer ever come back later?"

Su Lan didn't speak. She looked at the last line of words and suddenly felt her eyes warm. She didn't know who wrote this letter, nor who Xiu Lan was. But she felt that she seemed to know the person who wrote it.

"Let's go," she said softly, putting the letter back into the wooden box, "it's getting dark."

In the evening, Chen Mo fell asleep on the bed in his hometown. In the middle of the night, he had a dream.

In the dream, there was a lot of smoke, and he couldn't see clearly. He heard someone shouting "Charge!" He heard gunshots and explosions. He wanted to run, but his legs wouldn't move. In the distance, it seemed a woman was standing at the village entrance, and the wind blew her hair messy. He tried hard to see her face, but no matter what, he couldn't.

He heard the woman shouting, "I'll wait for you to come back!"

Chen Mo woke up suddenly. It was still dark. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his heart still pounding. He didn't know why, but he really wanted to see Su Lan's face.

He turned his head. Su Lan was sleeping soundly, her breathing gentle.

Chen Mo looked at her face and suddenly thought: This face, I seem to have seen it in a dream.

Outside the window, a faint fragrance of osmanthus drifted in.