In Dunhuang’s May weather, at noon, wearing short sleeves under the sun would still make you sweat.
In previous years at this time, the place would have already entered the peak tourist season.
This year’s night market had never gotten lively, with few tourists around.
In the narrow, elongated alleys of the specialty street, many permanent stalls hadn’t opened for business, looking somewhat desolate.
At Old Ma’s Poplar Braised Pancake Shop, no customers had arrived yet.
The shop owner, Ma Lao Liu, a man in his fifties, held a rolled cigarette between his fingers.
He strolled over to Grandma Fan’s dried fruit stall and reached out to pinch a few raisins, tossing them into his mouth.
A small head poked out from the stall, shouting at him, “Catch the thief!”
Ma Lao Liu ate a raisin and said with a chuckle, “Come here, I’ll compensate you with a big radish.”
Guan Sensen was struggling with a math problem: “The number of boys is three-quarters of the number of girls. What fraction of the number of boys is the number of girls?”
Guan Sensen’s father was working in Lanzhou, and his grandfather had gone to Lanzhou this week to see a doctor, so he was staying at his neighbor Grandma Fan’s house.
He had originally thought he could avoid doing homework, but unexpectedly, Grandma Fan was even stricter than his grandfather—no playing until homework was finished.
Guan Sensen had long since lost patience. He threw down his pen and ran out, “Really? What radish?”
Ma Lao Liu stuck the cigarette in his mouth, reached out to cup Guan Sensen’s little face with both hands, and with a slight effort, lifted him.
“Pulling radishes.”
Guan Sensen angrily kicked and hit in protest.
He struggled free from Ma Lao Liu’s hands and said to Fan Mingsu with a pitiful expression, “Grandma, he’s lying to me.”
Fan Mingsu was sitting on a small stool, head down, cracking walnuts.
Despite the May weather, she wore a faded cotton vest, her short hair mixed with gray and white.
Hearing this, Fan Mingsu stood up from inside the stall and beckoned to Sensen, “Come here, let me take a look.”
Guan Sensen ran to Fan Mingsu’s side, raising his angry, puffed-up little face for her to see.
Fan Mingsu looked at Ma Lao Liu with a darkened expression, “His neck is all red from pinching. Old Liu, you owe a pack of cigarettes.”
Ma Lao Liu frantically waved his hands, “Auntie, you’re 76 this year, right? We’ve been old neighbors, too—you can’t pit me like this.”
Fan Mingsu asked, “How am I pitting you?”
Ma Lao Liu replied, “Asking you to smoke a cigarette is like asking for the life of your granddaughter Chen Xi—”
“Last time, a tourist from Qingdao offered you a cigarette, and Chen Xi caught you red-handed. That person later…”
Ma Lao Liu shook his head, looking utterly miserable. “Tell me, who in this market has the guts to give you cigarettes to smoke or sell you cigarettes?”
Just as they were talking, some tourists wandered over, and Ma Lao Liu couldn’t spare time to chat with Grandma Fan anymore, hurrying to greet them.
At this moment, in what had been a clear, bright day, fierce winds suddenly started blowing.
Cultural shirts and silk scarves hanging from a row of stalls began swaying in the wind.
Fan Mingsu sniffed and looked up at the sky, “Pack up, let’s go home.”
Guan Sensen, delighted that he didn’t have to do homework anymore, happily grabbed his exercise book and stuffed it into his backpack. “Is a sandstorm coming?”
Grandma Fan nodded, “A big sandstorm, hurry up.”
Guan Sensen quickly packed his schoolbag and began collecting the raisins from the display rack.
Fan Mingsu took down the cultural shirts from the rack, rolling them up and stuffing them into burlap sacks, then went to collect the silk scarves.
While they were busy packing up the stall, three tourists strolled over from one end of the long street and stopped in front of the stall.
“How much are the raisins?”
Fan Mingsu, busy packing up, didn’t even lift her head and said, “Not selling anymore, leave quickly, a sandstorm is coming.”
Zhou Ning pursed her lips—where would a sandstorm come from on such a clear day?
She took her boyfriend Wang Danyang’s hand and walked toward the next stall.
After walking a few steps, the two turned back to see their companion still standing in front of the stall.
“Qin Lie, let’s go!”
The man waved at them, signaling to wait a moment.
Qin Lie looked down and asked, “Where did you buy this canvas bag?”
Hearing Qin Lie’s voice, Fan Mingsu finally noticed there was still someone standing in front of the stall.
This person was tall and slender with a robust build; his facial features were sharp and defined, most striking were his dark, deep-set eyes beneath thick eyebrows.
Those eyes, like his contours, seemed carved by the northwestern wind and sand, possessing a wildness characteristic of northwestern men.
But his overall aura was different from the local Dunhuang people.
Fan Mingsu looked somewhat bewildered. “Are you asking me?”
Qin Lie nodded, flicking ash into a nearby trash can, bringing the cigarette to his mouth for a drag.