Chapter 12
拆迁通知
The Demolition Notice
上午十点。苏茉拉开卷帘门。
门上贴着一张纸。
盖红戳的。
「城市更新项目——本街区纳入拆迁范围。请于三个月内完成搬迁。」
她撕下来。看了三遍。
最开始那个不敢种树的理由——成真了。
十点半。文姐走过来。
看了看通知。
「三个月啊——来得及洗最后一批。」
她说的「最后一批」是茶馆的吧台布。
苏茉的眼眶热了一下。
不是店要拆了。
是文姐在这种时候想的还是吧台布。
下午两点。张教授来了。
他看了通知。慢慢坐下来。
「三个月。」他叹了口气。「我在这条街上走了四十三年。现在连街都要走了。」
苏茉给他泡了一壶白牡丹。他端起来，看了一眼窗外。
「对面那个招牌——三个星期了，每天亮一点。它不用等三个月。」
他喝了一口茶。
「但有些东西，不是用来拆的。是用来等对的人看见的。」
他站起来。走的时候，在门口停了一下。
「小茉啊，这条街还在的时候——你泡的每一壶茶，都是它还在的证据。」
下午四点半。老太太来了。
门上的通知她看见了——但她没有撕，没有评论。
点了一壶滇红。
喝完。
「三个月。」苏茉说。
老太太：「三个月够很多事了。」
她站起来，走到门口，回头：
「我告诉你一件事——门可以被拆，但茶道不能被拆。因为茶道不在门上。」
她低头看了看自己的无名指。
「在你这里。」
她指的不是手。
是胸口。
晚上八点。苏茉看着吧台后面那张下午五点的侧光照片——又翻出了许念给她的另一张。
窗玻璃上的霜，厚厚一层。是去年冬天拍的。
这条街，有人在拍它还在的样子。
而她一直在里面泡茶——一次都没有走出去看过它。
所有进入茶馆的人都从外面走进来的。
她从来没有走出去过。
第12章 · 完
Ten in the morning. Su Mo pulled up the rolling door.
A sheet of paper was taped to it.
Stamped with a red seal.
"Urban Renewal Project — this block has been designated for demolition. Please complete relocation within three months."
She peeled it off. Read it three times.
The reason she had never dared plant a tree — had come true.
Ten-thirty. Sister Wen walked over.
Looked at the notice.
"Three months — just enough time to wash the last batch."
The "last batch" she meant was the tea house's counter cloths.
Su Mo's eyes stung.
Not because the shop was being torn down.
Because even at a time like this, what Sister Wen thought about was still the counter cloths.
Two in the afternoon. Professor Zhang arrived.
He read the notice. Sat down slowly.
"Three months." He sighed. "I have been walking this street for forty-three years. Now even the street is leaving."
Su Mo brewed him a pot of White Peony. He picked up the cup, glanced out the window.
"That sign across the street — three weeks now, a little brighter every day. It does not need to wait three months."
He took a sip of tea.
"But some things are not made to be torn down. They are made to wait for the right person to see them."
He stood up. On his way out, he paused at the door.
"Xiao Mo — while this street is still here, every pot of tea you brew is proof that it is still here."
Four-thirty in the afternoon. The old woman arrived.
She saw the notice on the door — but did not tear it down, did not comment.
Ordered a pot of dianhong.
Finished it.
"Three months," Su Mo said.
The old woman: "Three months is enough for a great many things."
She stood, walked to the door, turned back:
"I will tell you one thing — a door can be torn down, but the Way of Tea cannot be torn down. Because the Way of Tea is not on the door."
She looked down at her own ring finger.
"It is here."
She was not pointing at her hand.
She was pointing at her chest.
Eight in the evening. Su Mo looked at the five-o'clock sidelight photo behind the counter — then pulled out another one Xu Nian had given her.
Frost on the window glass, a thick layer. Shot last winter.
Someone was photographing this street while it was still here.
And she had been inside the whole time, brewing tea — had not once stepped out to look at it.
Everyone who entered the tea house had come in from outside.
She had never gone out.
Chapter 12 · End
To be continued — Chapter 13: She Does Not Stay, But She Does Not Leave