Back of Hand

Chapter 62

Chapter 62 My hometown is at peace.

    Shi Jianqing saw Peng Suren for the first time when he was seventeen years old in Paris. She was the daughter of a prostitute, and she didn't know it until she was eighteen.

    Her father, Mr. Shi, is a collector and businessman, and enjoys a high reputation in the local area. The family often holds banquets like flowing water, and the guests attend in costumes. At night, the manor is brightly lit, and Western musical instruments are gathered together. Blooming skirt. Shi Jianqing is the daughter most favored by his father, she is the youngest at home, every time a designer comes to make a dress for a banquet, Mr. Shi will arrange the best one for his youngest daughter.

    The designer used a tape measure to measure the customer's measurements, and Shi Jianqing stood in front of the copper flower-framed mirror, circling around to appreciate his own posture.

    She likes everything green, so she chooses the most beautiful green cloth among silk, satin and cotton linen. She wanted a bohemian look this time, and the dress had to be made with a big hem, batik print, and coarse fabric.

    Shi Jianqing's high-class friends were young and rebellious, and they saw her put on that green dress and flowered headband, with her mouth opened into a small circle. Their parents are both old bourgeois, and they are firmly opposed to being in the company of Bohemia. Gypsies wander around, steal and plunder, and do all kinds of evil. How can they tarnish the civilization of the upper class? Shi Jianqing's friends praise her for being both seductive and naive, which seems contradictory but is actually a philosophical beauty.     They had already made an appointment to sneak out of the banquet while their parents were entertaining. It was early April, but there was a snowfall in the evening, and everyone put on inconspicuous long black coats to completely cover up the fine clothes inside.     The small team saw a newspaper with a photo of a wandering musician in a subway station. Shi Jianqing and his friends decided to imitate these homeless people. The group grabbed a few portable musical instruments and drove to an unusually distant subway station.     They covered the lower half of their faces with bohemian headscarves, held a rebellious concert in a dark subway station, smelling of urine. The band does not play Bach or Chopin, but only pop music or folk music.     Peng Furen thumped down the concrete steps. The walls of the subway station were covered with white tiles, reflecting his young black hair and profile.

    He was twenty-two years old that year, full of vigor and vigor, and had just opened his third small hotel in Jiangcheng, dreaming that one day he would put up Peng's signboards all over the world. He has already been to the United States to study the hotel industry, and his study tour in Europe started in Paris. His steps are fast and wide, as if the brightest future is close at hand, and he can't wait for a moment to rush towards it.

    Pop music echoed in the subway station, and Peng Suren was fifteen steps away from the band. After their song was over, Shi Jianqing raised his bow and swung it like a fairy casting a spell. The head of the bow drew a counterclockwise circle in the air. When everyone saw the conductor, they had a tacit understanding and immediately played the second movement of Dvořák's Ninth Symphony.     Shi Jianqing played the violin, lowered his eyes, and smiled with his mouth covered in a scarf. She is not deeply involved in the world, and she doesn't understand nostalgia, but she just plays how the gray-haired teacher teaches. The song is long and lingering, and Peng Suren's footsteps gradually slowed down, slowed down, and stopped in front of the band.     He didn't know why he stopped. He listened silently, but suddenly remembered his father sitting on the southwestern mountain, twirling coffee fruit in his hand, and humming a piece of "Remembering Hometown" intermittently. At that time and now, the melody is the same, but his father died, died in Jiangcheng, and the fallen leaves returned to their roots.     Shi Jianqing raised his eyes and saw an oriental man shedding two tears.     She stopped the bow and stared at him blankly, Peng Furen was shocked and lost his composure, and hurriedly wiped away tears with his sleeve. He and Shi Jianqing glanced at each other hastily, said sorry in English, and said something nice, then turned around and took another big step.     Shi Jianqing tilted her head to glance at Peng Furen's back, one of her friends blew a flute, Shi Jianqing turned around, and set up the bow again.     She met Peng Suren by chance, and did not see her again for a long time.     Shi Jianqing continued to be the most favored daughter of the Shi family. On her eighteenth birthday, Mr. Shi held a grand banquet for her in the garden of the manor. The crowd was so crowded that no one noticed the gypsy girl mingling with the open-air feast.