The woman brought the deer head to a dirty, old, green-painted rectangular wooden dining table. The tabletop was cracked, and the gaps between the planks were corroded, mottled, and accumulated with grime. However, on the whole, it had been wiped reasonably clean by the housewife with that black rag on the corner of the table; at least there was no soup juice left on the surface.
There were three sets of bowls and chopsticks. Sitting at the head of the table was a weary man in blue overalls. He had just returned from the vegetable patch beside the house. People living in the suburbs might not have their own small courtyard, but they definitely had a small vegetable garden. Even if they really couldn't find any land for farming, they would still put out some potted plants.
It was now just before dawn, and the lights in the house were not on. The ceiling was covered with a layer of putty that had turned yellow and black from oil smoke. The dusty incandescent bulb was in the middle of the west wall. On the east wall was a "Dongfanghong" poster, along with a tattered Year of the Ox calendar and a small electronic clock. The north wall was against a wooden cabinet, and there was a small door leading to the kitchen.
The man was slurping down a bowl of rice soaked in soup, accompanied by a bit of frozen, overnight fish soup. He was very satisfied.
The woman set the deer head on the table, its protruding muzzle almost poking into the large white porcelain rice bowl.
"Eat quickly. We're running out of time."
The moment the deer head was placed on the dining table, Serana felt a daze as if everything was accelerating. The two adults gobbled down their food in a hurry, not forgetting to chat a bit.
"It's time to find a job... It's been half a year since the layoffs..." the woman rambled.
"Third Uncle's family is short-handed. They say they need people to go up to the Northeast, to the Greater Khingan Mountains to fell trees." The man paused slightly. His bowl was empty, so he handed it to the woman, and she went to scoop a full bowl of soup rice for him.
"You must not go. They say it's not peaceful up North."
"I don't want to go either. They say people have frozen to death there... Going South, self-employed businesses are developing better..."
The deer head's pair of dark, glossy eyes reflected this scene. The faint light of dawn reflected off everything—greasy, dull, shadowy. It was all like this. Colors were not important; what mattered were light and shadow, which could be truly reflected in the deer's eyes.
Serana felt slightly lost. She saw the woman, with Life Qi, tell the boy to eat more. The deer head didn't move, so the woman took the bowl and shoveled rice into its mouth. Rice grains and soup leaked out, and the man also gently told the child to eat his fill, otherwise he wouldn't have the strength to study.
Breakfast ended in a rush. The woman dragged the bicycle out of the utility room, fixed the deer head and a cloth schoolbag on the rear rack, said goodbye to the man, then mounted the bike and rode out to the squeaking of the wheel axle.
Serana trotted after the woman on the bicycle. She passed through the alleys, greeted a few acquaintances, and the fully inflated tires rolled over the concrete road, swaying. She rang the bicycle bell, ding-ding.
Serana originally thought keeping up with this simple thing was easy, but it wasn't. The woman looked somewhat weary, but her body was healthy. It was fine in the alley where there were many obstacles and she couldn't ride very fast, but once she hit the wide main road, she suddenly accelerated, faster and faster. Facing the morning light and passing by the feet of mountains, Serana pursed her lips and chased for half an hour before finally stopping, panting.
The woman seemed to realize something and also stopped the bike. On the side of the road, she turned to ask the deer head, "Do you need to pee?"
The deer head didn't answer, but the woman still held it as she got off the bike, went to the bushes, set it down, and told him to hurry up.
Serana sighed, "That was a lifesaver." She was just a Mortal now, and she still had to carry the heavy Wabbajack; how could she have the ability to race against wheels?
The woman brought the deer head back. Serana took the opportunity, sat on the back seat herself, held the deer head in her arms, and sat on the schoolbag. The woman muttered, "Why did it get heavier?" then continued riding.
Mountains, rivers, vegetation, and flowers were quiet and reserved in the winter of Jiangnan. The frost from a month ago could still be seen in some places, especially on some rooftops and in the gaps between tiles. Apart from the green of pines and bamboos, the yellow of shrubs, and the white of snow, there were no other surprises in the world. The mixed colors of the human world were actually just small, isolated islands swallowed by nature.
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