132: The Ferryman: Final Chapter

In the end, he still couldn't win against Principal Jiang Changfeng.

Lin Que watched as the Coaster minibus merged into the evening rush hour traffic, kicking up the cold dust characteristic of a winter evening.

The look Ye Xi gave him before getting on the bus was as sorrowful as a princess being sent off for a political marriage.

She clutched that jar of pickled garlic tightly to her chest.

Principal Jiang Changfeng had even specifically asked what it was, and Ye Xi, without changing her expression, said it was a "Jiangcheng specialty art piece," completely fooling the old principal.

Lin Que shoved his hands back into his pockets and let out a long breath.

It was just as well; the barbecue was postponed, which was better than risking an upset for her "pianist stomach."

Lin Que wandered back to Xisheng Mansion.

"Back already?"

Wang Xiulian was sitting on the sofa picking celery, with a family drama playing on TV.

Hearing the door open, she tossed the celery aside, her eyes scanning behind Lin Que like searchlights.

"Um… where's classmate Ye?"

"She left."

Lin Que changed into his slippers and picked up an orange from the coffee table to peel.

"She's a guest from the province; there's a welcoming banquet tonight, and Principal Jiang is personally accompanying her. She couldn't keep mooching meals off us."

The disappointment on Wang Xiulian's face was visible to the naked eye. She slapped her thigh:

"Oh my, is that one jar of pickled garlic enough? If I'd known, I would have packed the whole jar for her. That child is so thin, like a bean sprout; she definitely hasn't been eating well."

Lin Jianguo, sitting nearby reading the newspaper, shook it and couldn't help but interject:

"Alright, that's called weight management. She plays the piano; if she ate like you, she wouldn't even be able to fit into her gowns."

"Hey! If you don't know how to talk, no one will mistake you for a mute!"

Wang Xiulian raised her eyebrows.

"What's wrong with eating like me? This is a sign of good fortune! Besides, I think that girl really liked my cooking. The look she gave when she left—she was truly reluctant to go."

Lin Que popped a slice of orange into his mouth and mumbled in agreement:

"Yes, yes, yes, your cooking is great; you've captured an artist's stomach."

Wang Xiulian was coaxed into a beaming smile. She leaned closer to Lin Que, lowering her voice by an octave, filled with gossipy excitement:

"Son, let me ask you something. This girl... what does her family do? Looking at her demeanor, she doesn't seem like an ordinary person."

"A musical family from Jinling, they play the piano, and she's even won awards in Vienna."

Lin Que didn't hide it.

"Whoa!"

Wang Xiulian's eyes brightened even more.

"That's a big place! This girl is great; she has no airs and is polite. Look, she's in Jinling, you're in Jiangcheng; although it's a bit far, high-speed rail is convenient now..."

"Ahem!"

Lin Jianguo coughed heavily twice, put down his newspaper, and looked serious.

"She's here for an exchange program and is a key talent being cultivated by the province. While our son isn't bad either, don't go playing matchmaker haphazardly. They are people from two different worlds."

"How are they from two different worlds?"

Wang Xiulian was displeased.

"My son is an honorary member of the Provincial Writers Association! You saw them at lunch; those two sitting together, that's what you call a perfect match!"

Lin Que felt his temples throbbing. Seeing his mother's topic sliding toward dangerous territory, he quickly cut in:

"Mom, didn't you say just a while ago that the kid from the Wang family next door saw his grades plummet because of puppy love, and that I should take it as a warning? How come the wind has changed direction now?"

Wang Xiulian glared at him righteously:

"How can that be the same? The Wang family kid was dating a street punk; that's dragging each other down! What do you call this? This is a strong-strong alliance! Such an outstanding female student, being with you, it must be about learning from each other and improving together. Can you call that puppy love? That's called... that's called growing together!"

"..."

Lin Que was stunned by his mother's flexible moral standards.

"Fine, keep fantasizing."

Lin Que stood up and threw the orange peel into the trash can.

"I'm heading back to the studio; I still have some test papers to finish, and they need to be checked tomorrow."

"Hey, this child, why do you run off whenever we talk about serious matters?"

Wang Xiulian shouted from behind.

"Invite her over for a meal again someday! I'll make red-braised pork for her!"

"It depends on fate."

Lin Que waved his hand, grabbed his schoolbag, and left as if fleeing.

It was pitch black outside, with dim streetlights. Lin Que tightened his collar and walked toward SOHO Future City.

The air held a damp, cold scent of smoke; this was the true scent of Jiangcheng.

Compared to the suffocating warmth at home, he now needed the cold emptiness of the studio to clear his head.

Ye Xi's appearance was like an unexpected interlude, disrupting his originally calm rhythm, but it certainly added a different color to this dull second year of high school.

Improving together?

Lin Que remembered Ye Xi's chaotic smashing in the piano room and the corner of his mouth curled up.

It was indeed quite an improvement; she had even learned how to smash a piano.

Pushing open the studio door, the room was pitch black.

Lin Que didn't turn on the main lights, only clicking on the ambient light on the desk.

The glow from the monitor lit up, reflecting his slightly tired but clear-headed face.

He tossed his schoolbag onto the sofa, sank into the ergonomic chair, and skillfully turned on the computer.

The WeChat icon in the bottom right corner was flashing frantically.

Opening it, he saw it was all messages from 【Fugitive Beethoven】.

【Fugitive Beethoven】: [Image] [Image] [Image]

【Fugitive Beethoven】: This is the so-called welcoming banquet! It's all fish! That sea cucumber is like it's made of plastic; I can't bite into it at all! I want to eat stir-fried wormwood with dried tofu! I want to eat sweet and sour pork ribs!

【Fugitive Beethoven】: [Crying] [Crying] [Crying]

【Fugitive Beethoven】: That Minister Zheng keeps talking to me about the tragic color of Beethoven, and I have to keep smiling; my face is about to go stiff. Lin Que, you owe me a barbecue, no, two, I've written it down in my notebook!

Looking at the resentful text and emojis on the screen, Lin Que typed on the keyboard.

【Mu Xia】: Be content, Teacher Ye; many people want to go to that kind of occasion but can't. Did you eat the pickled garlic?

【Fugitive Beethoven】: I didn't dare take it out, afraid Minister Zheng would call it a biochemical weapon. But holding it makes me feel at ease.

A few seconds later, another message came, this time without emojis, and the text was long.

【Fugitive Beethoven】: Lin Que, seriously, thank you.

【Fugitive Beethoven】: I'm not thanking you for taking the heat for me, nor for that meal.

【Fugitive Beethoven】: I'm thanking you for making me feel that I'm not just a machine that plays the piano. When I was eating at your house, I felt like a living person.

Although it's a pity I didn't get to eat the barbecue, that home-cooked meal was more delicious than any grand feast I've had in Vienna.

【Fugitive Beethoven】: I'm very happy to have met you.

Lin Que looked at those lines, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment.

He smiled and replied with two words.

【Mu Xia】: Good night.

He exited the chat interface.

Lin Que put away those messy thoughts.

The city lights outside the window were dim, and the faint siren of an ambulance could be heard in the distance.

The hustle and bustle of the day intertwined with the quiet of the night; Ye Xi's catharsis in the piano room, her satisfaction at the dinner table, her sincere gratitude while chatting... scene after scene flashed back in his mind.

So, the true ferryman, it's not just about crossing the wasteland, not just about unfulfilled obsessions; it can also be a hot meal, a word of understanding.

He took a deep breath and opened the document titled "the ferryman" Final Chapter.

The cursor blinked at the end of the document, where he had carefully conceived a poetic and philosophical ending.

Yet, he pressed the delete key without hesitation.

The text disappeared like a receding tide, until the page was completely blank.

He created a new document, and in the title bar, typed five words: "the ferryman": Final Chapter.