Siheyuan: Sap is the last word

When the first rays of light in the morning came through the window, Xiao Miao had already stood up and was ready to open the door. The stone pavement in front of the door was still wet with dew from last night, cool and moist, reflecting the briskness of his footsteps. The location of the grocery store was not very prosperous, and it could even be said to be hidden deep in a not very spacious alley, but it was the fruit of his hard work and the starting point of his new life.

This alley is flanked by old blue brick walls. Time has left mottled marks on the walls, mosses grow tenaciously in the cracks, and the air is filled with the fresh smell of soil and leaves. Occasionally, the wind blows, bringing up a few fallen leaves and making a gentle rustling sound. At the far end of the alley, the chirping of morning birds and the hustle and bustle of the market in the distance can be heard, adding a bit of vitality to this quiet space.

Cod Xiaomiao opened the wooden door, and the door hinge creaked, bringing out the aroma of aged wood mixed with a little bit of dust. His eyes quickly scanned the shelves in the store - although the wooden shelves were simple, each layer was neatly arranged. Various daily necessities, snacks, seasonings, and daily sundries, some of which were even handmade, showed his care and meticulousness. The sun shone in through the glass window at the door, casting mottled light and shadows, making the cans and bottles on the shelves sparkle.

He lowered his head to tidy up the cash register at the front desk and prepared the account book and coin purse. Cod Xiaomiao's fingers were slender and his movements were neat and tidy, showing the traces of years of hard work. Although the grocery store was not big, every detail revealed his warmth and patience. He knew that this was not just a grocery store, but also a bond between him, the city, and strangers.

When the doorbell rang, the first customer who came in was a middle-aged woman carrying a cloth bag. Her face was full of fatigue from life, but she also had a gentle smile. She stopped in front of the shelf, her eyes lingering on the rows of tea cans. Yu Xiaomiao walked over and asked with a smile: "Do you need help? The tea here is all freshly harvested from the tea garden upstream, and the quality is very good."

The woman nodded and said softly, "I want to buy some good tea. My old father likes to drink it." Her voice was low but kind. Yu Xiaomiao took a can of green tea with simple packaging and handed it to her. He introduced the origin and picking time of the tea leaves and patiently explained how to make tea. The woman listened carefully and showed a long-lost relaxed expression on her face.

After she bought the tea, she took out a few coins and handed them to him. After counting them carefully, he looked at her gently and said, "Thank you, be careful on the road." The woman smiled and nodded. When she left, she turned around and said, "This store is warm, come often."

As the sun gradually rose higher, more people gathered at the door of the grocery store. Students carrying schoolbags hurriedly bought some stationery; old people carrying crutches came to buy some daily necessities; young mothers brought their children to buy snacks and toys that their children liked. E Xiaomiao always greeted customers patiently and answered everyone's questions calmly with a faint smile on his face, which seemed to relieve all the fatigue and anxiety here for a moment.

Sometimes, he would take out an old photo album from under the counter and look through the photos he brought from his hometown. That was where he used to live, and it was a testimony to his attachment to the past and his expectations for the future. In the album, there were pictures of him playing in the fields with his parents in his childhood, scenes of him sitting around a campfire and telling stories with his friends in his youth, and silhouettes of him struggling alone on the streets of the city. There was a story behind each photo, and he used the grocery store to weave a new chapter.

The afternoon light is soft and warm, and the air is filled with the aroma of coffee and bread, drifting from the coffee shop on the corner. In the busyness, Xiao Miao feels a sense of solid happiness. He knows that this road will not be easy, and he may encounter various challenges and tests, but this small shop is his persistence and the starting point of his dream.

One day, the weather suddenly became gloomy, with dark clouds all over the sky. The wind blew the branches and the rain began to hit the windows sparsely. Cod Xiaomiao stood in the store, listening to the sound of rain, but his heart was particularly peaceful. The bell at the door rang occasionally, and a few passers-by hurried in, all wearing wet coats and with tired faces, but seeing the warm light in the store, a trace of comfort appeared in their eyes.

He remembered that afternoon, a young woman came in holding an oil-paper umbrella with a few elegant ink-wash plum blossoms painted on it. The woman's eyes were a little confused, as if she was looking for something. Her fingers gently slid across the jars and bottles on the shelf, and finally stopped on a handmade candy. She asked softly, "Is there anything special about this candy?"

Cod Xiao Miao smiled slightly, leaned over to take out a candy from the candy jar and handed it to her. "This is made from local honey and wild fruits. It's sweet but not greasy, and very popular. Would you like to try one?"

The woman took the candy and gently put it into her mouth. The sweet taste spread between her lips and teeth, and a relieved smile appeared on her face. She looked up at Cod Xiaomiao with a gentle look: "Thank you, the things here are so warm, just like home."

At that moment, Yu Xiaomiao felt that the grocery store was not just a place to sell things, but more like a harbor for emotions, a place that could give warmth and strength to strangers.

As time went by, the grocery store gradually had a fixed customer base. They came and went with their joys and sorrows in life, interweaving their stories into this small store. Yu Xiaomiao became a listener and also a friend. He listened to the old man telling stories about his youth, talked with students about their future dreams, and accompanied young parents to solve the little troubles in life.

One night, while Xiao Miao was sorting out the goods, there was a hurried knock on the door. He opened the door and saw a man with an anxious face standing outside, holding an unconscious child in his arms. The man choked up and said, "The child suddenly has a high fever. All the shops nearby are closed. Can you help us?"

Cod Xiaomiao responded quickly, helping to take out the commonly used antipyretic medicine and some cold compress cloths, and also used the hot water in the store to cool the child down. His movements were steady and quick, his brows were furrowed, and his heart was full of anxiety and concern. The man looked at him gratefully, his voice choked with sobs: "Thank you, you are like an angel."

That night, Xiao Miao stayed by the child's side until he gradually regained consciousness. The sound of rain outside the window gently hit the roof, and the lights inside the house were warm and soft. The feeling of helping in times of crisis made Xiao Miao feel that the meaning of life is far more profound than the numbers of transactions.