REMIX

I went to Natsume's store with the reheated bento I bought at the convenience store.

I wanted to go to an alley across the road to see if the pig's feet noodle shop she liked was closed, but after thinking about it, it was too detour, lest Xia Jie had already closed and went home when I passed.

Fortunately not yet.Summer is the peak season, and some people will stay outside for a long time, and guests will come to the door at this time. She usually closes at 09:30 or [-] o'clock, and it is [-] o'clock in winter.

I looked across the road from a distance, and there was a soft yellow light emitting from the door of the small shop with a wrought-iron decorative signboard. That signboard was nailed one by one by myself, and the words were sprayed with black and gold spray paint on it. , and hung a small bell in the door to remind guests to welcome and see off.

When I opened the door and went in, there was a pleasant "ding bell" sound above my head.

"welcome!"

Xia Jie, who had a headband tied on his forehead, straightened up from the bar, and when he saw me, he yelled carelessly, "...what's the matter, what's up."

I was amused by the indescribably cute ending sound, so I put the bento bag on an empty table, hooked a chair and sat down, and said, "I'm back."

"Hey, did you come back early?"

She ran out with both hands raised in front of her chest, wrung out a wet rag and threw it on the table, and carefully counted with her fingers, "I remember you went... for ten days, and it's only been a week?"

"I went back early, and my luggage is still at my friend's house."

"Oh. Then why did you come here on purpose?"

"Ms. Xia, are you welcoming the son who brought you supper?"

"..." She knew she was wrong, so she could only stick out her tongue shamelessly, "Slightly slightly."

Really.

"Well... you're here, help me with some work?" She looked around as if to signal, and winked at me flatteringly.

"Don't think about it."

As I said that, I walked to the back of the flower stand in the corner and took out a garbage bag.

Complained to her: "Why don't you recruit more people."

"It's useless."

I cleaned up the wastebaskets under each table, and watched her bend down and clean the table quickly, which is a necessary procedure before closing the door every day; the slender figure flickered under the chandelier, and the chuckle gradually died down Go on, "Pay one more person's wages..."

I don't like to see her like this, "Then I will come back every weekend to help you."

"I told you it's useless."

Pretending to dislike me for nagging, she pursed her lips and muttered.

After a while, he smiled happily to himself.

I sat on the high chair and watched her wipe the table, and felt that my heart had also been polished, giving off a little gray light.

Most of the depression that was dispelled by Gong Junye before was completely annihilated.

The microwave oven gave a "ding" reminder, which cheered her up from fatigue and hesitation, dropped the work in hand, and ran to serve the meal in a hurry. The plastic lunch box was hot, and I heard her steaming food all over the room. A chaotic and joyous scream in the fragrance. "Ah! It's time to eat!"

The bento was almost thrown into my hand by her, and I turned my head and ran to the small freezer in the store to pick up two cans of beer. "Come."

I just finished drinking a pot, and I didn't mind continuing to drink it. I reached out to help her pry the tab open, and a dense white foam burst out from the mouth of the can.

"What do you want to eat tomorrow?" I said, "I made it for you."

"Wonton noodles, wonton noodles, wonton noodles." She said it three times like a mantra, sounding like she really wanted to eat it. "I'm eating!"

I went to the gate and turned off the porch light while she picked up a chicken wing root.

"Hey baby, do you know," she said, chewing the food in her mouth, "that little brother who came here to work."

What she was talking about was the man who lived in the rented apartment upstairs. He was doing freelance work and also doing chores for her. I hadn't seen him a few times. "What's up with him?"

"He's gay."

Behind her was the sound of her being distracted from eating, and the sound of the spoon hitting the side of the bowl, "Can't you see it? I really didn't see it at first... Last time I witnessed a boy who was three or five years older than you pursuing him, yes, It’s just a pursuit, confession, I was watching, I felt that it was not good for me to stand there as a telephone pole from the beginning to the end of his private affairs, so I walked away... Both of them are very handsome, but they look like ordinary people. Same..."

My hand that raised the curtain stopped for a moment.

The bell on the door rang messily again, this time it was blown by the wind outside.I closed the door, and turned to straightening the curtains that had been pushed together. "ah."

I went back and sat down beside her, and put my clasped hands on the table.

"and then."

I found that I couldn't think, figure out or worry about what she would say next, what kind of speech I would hear, because I didn't feel malicious or "targeted" from such an opening and atmosphere.Maybe it's just that the timing of this topic happens to be too dense, and I can't help being nervous.

"Then are they together?"

"I don't know—I'm quite curious about the follow-up when you say that." She took a sip of beer, rested her cheek with one hand, and picked the side dish that she didn't like in the meal with the other, "Baby, look It doesn’t feel weird at all.”

"It used to be," I said, "this kind of person is not new now."

"That's it."

The conversation ended here, and I was still carefully observing her facial expressions, trying to read her opinion from some wording or details, but unfortunately I found nothing, and I don't know whether it is good or bad.

Let me just wishful thinking is good.

Because she once said that she will never disappoint me.I have always kept these words in my heart, not as a retreat when I am incompetent, but as a kind of support; even if I am not her own, and do not have the privilege of being loved unconditionally, please allow me, as her child, to have a little desire for her approval selfishness.

I went home with her that night and went to Fei Na's studio early the next morning.

Why was I not here this time? Gong Junye took my backpack with me and became a free listener all morning. However, I was rather ashamed. During the recording process, I frequently made low-level mistakes, bit my own tongue, and dragged Fei Na's hind legs.After a lot of hard work, I finally finished the recording. As compensation, I obliged to make [-] remixes of the discarded manuscripts written by her before, to see if there is any salvage value.

"I said... yo, boy, you did a good job in the later stage." She leaned on the workbench and watched me align, and patted my shoulder appreciatively, "I learned it by myself? It's quite troublesome."

"It's okay." I said, "There is a recording studio."

"what?"

I took my eyes away from the unmixed audio on the screen for a second, pointed at Gong Junye, "He sponsored it."

"..."

Fei Na immediately glared at him with proletarian hatred of the rich.

Gong Junye also consciously turned his face to the window and whistled, and ran ten miles away.

I changed the subject in a timely manner, and pushed Fei Na with a smile, "What did you want to say to me just now?"

"Almost forgot."

She took a sip of the throat tea she was holding, and turned her gaze back to my face, "JOAH will start recruiting freelance musicians in October, do you want to try it?"