Weed Scene | Diary · Departure

November 18, afternoon

Sister Phoebe invited me to her home for dinner. A few days ago she said the table hadn't been cleared yet, and once it was cleared she would invite me over. For Sister Phoebe, clearing that table would take a lot of time and energy, probably ten to fifteen days. I didn't understand, but I had to accept it, because she is Sister Phoebe, unlike ordinary people.

I asked Sister Phoebe what time I should go to her place for dinner. She said she had just finished something and wanted to take a nap, so she told me to come at 6. That worked for me—I could play at home.

A little after 6, I arrived. Sister Phoebe asked me to pick a book from her bedroom to read in the living room while she cooked noodles. I picked "Traveling Often" and two others whose names I forgot. I had flipped through a few pages of "Traveling Often" years ago at Nian Nian's shop. It's been so long, but I still wanted to pick it out and browse again.

Sister Phoebe cooked two full plates of pasta. But as I write this, I've forgotten what was in it—I only remember it was something special. Haha, how embarrassing. It seems a diary needs to be recorded promptly to be accurate. Before bringing the pasta to the table, Sister Phoebe took out delicate paper napkins printed with flowers. I thought they were for wiping mouths. Then she moved the pasta onto the flower napkins, and I realized they were for placing under the plates.

She also brought out some candles and lit them. I said, "Don't you need to turn off the lights?" She said, "No need, if the lights are off you can't capture the candles in a photo." I said, "You're like a silly straight guy trying to create a bit of romance." In the end, she turned off the lights, and it looked adorable.

When I left, Sister Phoebe handed me a bag of Torreya nuts and said, "If you like them, take them home." I said okay. Then she pulled out a hand cream: "Do you want this?" I said yes, I'd take it. Every time we meet, she gives me a little gift to take home. Once it was bread and sausages, another time nano cleaning sponges, and so on.

As for Sister Phoebe, whatever she does, however she does it, I find her lovely. Perhaps it's because what's in her head is purely just herself.

November 21, afternoon

The temperature dropped today. Around 4-something, I watched a new film by Hong Sang-soo on Bilibili titled "By the Stream." His style is similar to before—the mundane storytelling is easy to make you sleepy, but I still like it. After watching, I felt sleepy, so I lay in bed and set an alarm for 30 minutes later, because I dislike waking up after dark.

The wind howled fiercely outside the window. Raindrops, carried by the wind, tapped against the glass pane by the head of the bed. I worried the glass might break. If it suddenly shattered, I’d get hit, right? So I covered my head with the quilt. The windy season, I figured, had truly arrived with this rain. The fear of the window breaking affected my ability to fall asleep, so I simply turned off the alarm and drifted in and out until it was completely dark.

November 23, morning

After waking at 8:30, I listened to some English for a while and drank a glass of hot water. At 10:30, I wanted to lie down a bit more. The sheets were a little cold, and even after warming them for a long time they didn't hold much warmth.

At 11:30, I still hadn't fallen asleep. I thought I should get up and start packing. At noon, I had to get up—I needed to hang up the pants from the washing machine. I also needed to clear out the extra things from the van, leaving only what I needed for this trip: camping gear, a duvet cover, winter clothes, and Haha's personal items.

I planned to leave tomorrow, after all, the bike I bought had arrived, and there was no better reason to keep putting it off. But in my heart, I still wanted to delay one more day.

In the afternoon, after organizing the van, I gave in. I decided not to leave tomorrow or the day after. I might just leave whenever I feel like it. Even though the house in Yangshuo was already rented, no one had set a rule that I had to check in on time.

A couple of days ago, Jason and I watched He Chen inspect a folding bicycle he bought on Xianyu. When buying it, He Chen specifically told the seller, "Make sure it's in good condition—this is for studying in Japan." When he said that, Jason looked at the message and chuckled.

The white bicycle was a bit low and small, looking more suitable for grocery shopping. Unlike traditional road bikes—which seem like adult bikes—this one looked like a child's bike.

Because there was no wrench, the pedals weren't fully tightened. Jason couldn't wait to test it out. He Chen said pedaling like that could break it, but he still let Jason ride a few meters in front of the shop. At that moment, an image popped into my head: Jason pressing down on that little bicycle, huffing and puffing as he struggled to climb a slope. Jason said he liked this kind of princess bike best. It looks childish, but it's simple to ride—that's fine. Then I also bought a low-end version, thinking I'd bring it with me when it arrived.

December 26

Today was the opening day of Li Zhenhao's bedsheet shop. Jason and I had agreed to go together. I saw a cluster of small yellow flowers, which were groundsel, and picked a big bunch. Yang Mi came to find me, and I asked if she wanted to go to Li Zhenhao's shop. Yang Mi said she hadn't prepared a gift. I pointed at the bouquet and said, "Just bring this. I can take hotpot base." So we each drove off. I arrived first, holding the gift, but I didn't get out of the car—I wanted to wait for Yang Mi. Jason's car was gone; he had already left to work, as he's been a workaholic lately. I waited in the car for over ten minutes, but Yang Mi hadn't arrived. I called but no one answered, and I started to worry. He Chen noticed me sitting in the car, so I got out and went inside. Five minutes later, Yang Mi arrived, carrying a jar of plum wine as a gift.

In the evening, we cooked together at Jason's place. Jason first made scallion oil fish, which smelled great. I pinched a piece with my hand—it was really tasty. He Chen and Li Zhenhao hadn't arrived yet. Yang Mi and I couldn't resist and secretly used chopsticks to eat about a quarter of the fish.

That night, we drank another kind of wine that Yang Mi had brewed: a mix of plums and prickly pears. After just two or three cups, I got drunk and even cried for a while, though I can't recall the exact reason. I vaguely remember Li Zhenhao's voice as background chatter—perhaps she was desperately trying to find topics to lighten the mood. But for an extremely relaxed drunk person, there was no awkwardness.

It had been years since I last cried from alcohol-induced emotions.

December 3, evening

Driving back from Shaxi with Yang Mi, these past two days were probably the most relaxed and fun I've had in a group outing. The group included Wangwang, He Chen, Xiao Qi, Feng Xiaochun, Aruna, Lao Li, Yang Mi, and Jason. During the trip, Xiao Qi and He Chen behaved like five-year-olds.

Maybe because I'd had enough fun, I set a departure time on the way home. Yang Mi sat on an abandoned hot water pipe on the rooftop and asked me, "Do you want to wait until the 7th to have the pig-killing feast before leaving?" Yang Mi rarely makes such suggestions, so I asked her, "Do you want to come with me?" She replied, "Yes." Hearing that, I was genuinely happy inside. I seriously considered it for a moment, but still decided not to wait. Though the pig-killing feast is super delicious and I really wanted to eat it, if I broke the decision I had finally made, perhaps another excuse would come up later and make me keep procrastinating. Even though this 'departure' isn't really important on a practical level.

December 05

At midday, Jason and I ate at the Old Moon restaurant in the old town. Today tables and chairs couldn't be set up outside, so we went upstairs and found seats. I remembered the first time we ate there five years ago. Back then, the top of Cang Mountain had similar snow as now. Back then, we were complicated. Now, we are simple.

At 3 p.m., I finally set off. 1,400 kilometers, this is the first time I have to drive such a long distance, so that's probably why I wanted to procrastinate.