“Besides his facial features, there are three reasons. First, only in the Black Forest region do they have Easter trees. Second, his shop has those cuckoo clocks made of fire wood. Although these are common here, the hand-painted designs are only found in the style of craftsmen from the mountainous areas of the Black Forest. Third, this tree is not only decorated with menus and rabbits but also roosters, which is a custom only found in Upper Bavaria or Austria. He is clearly not an Austrian…”
“Um.” Khanyi felt a bit dazed listening to him, feeling like he was a great detective like Sherlock Holmes from British novels, but she still felt a bit unconvinced. “Then guess where I’m from? You can’t just say America or South Africa; you have to guess which province or city. If you can figure that out, then you really are impressive.”
“My beautiful goddess Ostara,” he smiled, taking her hand and lightly kissing the back of it, “you come from the heavens, beside God.”
She felt dizzy from his affection, as if her feet were stepping on soft, fluffy clouds. She vaguely heard him say to the shop assistant, “Please wrap up those clothes, and those summer dresses as well, I want them all.”
“But… it’s only spring now!”
“High-end women’s clothing stores like Madame Chanel release their collections a season in advance, don’t they?”
“Sir, you really are an expert.” The shop assistant quickly began wrapping the clothes.
He smiled, seemingly taking the shop assistant’s praise at face value. “Those shoes are nice too, and add those two handbags on the shelf as well.”
His left hand was filled with bags of various sizes, and his right hand was not empty either, as she was holding onto his arm. “Oh my, are you planning to buy out this store?” she muttered, “You should save some money. Look at those two shop assistants; they’ve been watching us and giggling, they can’t stop smiling.”
He turned his head to look at her little face, unable to help but laugh at her expression. He pinched her cheek, then, not satisfied, faced her directly and, taking advantage of her unguarded moment, leaned down to kiss her pouting lips. “They are jealous of your youth and beauty, and how charming you are.”
“Who said that? They are clearly staring at you!”
He raised an eyebrow, noncommittal, clearly not intending to continue her topic, but instead pointed to a small trinket in the shop window across the street. “Look at that.”
“What?” She stretched her neck, looking in the direction he indicated.
“Come on, let’s go inside and take a look.” He took her arm and led her into the shop, which sold handicrafts. Delicate little items filled the shelves. He pointed to a carved music box, its upper half shaped like an eggshell. He gently pressed a small switch, and two little doors opened like angel wings, revealing a dancing little girl inside. He laughed and pulled her closer. “Look, this little ballerina on the music box looks so much like you.”
“Like me?” Khanyi couldn’t help but be drawn to it.
“When you wear a ballet dress and dance in Swan Lake, isn’t it just like this?”
“Eh? When did you see me dance ballet?”
He was caught off guard by her sudden question, “…In my dreams, I’ve seen it many times.”
“How annoying.” She blushed, looking up and touching the exquisite little trinket. “I want this music box as an Easter gift.”
He did not, as usual, fall asleep after their passionate moments, but instead sat in the armchair by the window, smoking one cigarette after another. The window was slightly ajar, and a cool breeze wafted in. He glanced at her again; the person sleeping on the bed was covered tightly with a blanket, her breathing steady. Recently, he had been very busy, often staying up late, and smoking more and more. She had once tried to hide all his cigarettes and even confiscated all his pocket money, but those methods did not work; too many people were sending him cigarettes. Just thinking about how she argued with him over that made him want to laugh.
After extinguishing the cigarette in his hand, he stood up from the armchair, put on a white shirt and black trousers, and quietly walked to the reception room. He opened the safe and took out a brown folder, gently unfolding it. Inside was a photocopied document; the upper left corner had a blank file number column.
This document was clearly different from those files; the number column was empty, which could only mean two things: it was classified or it had not been numbered in time. In fact, this was a girl’s resume. His gaze fell on the column for her place of origin. He parted his lips and softly read it out loud, repeating it several times to remember it in his mind. Inside the divider of this brown folder was a black-and-white photo of several girls in ballet skirts and shoes, embracing each other, smiling intimately and vivaciously. The girl in the center, with black hair, appeared particularly delicate and graceful compared to her companions. She slightly lowered her head, her large black eyes looking at the camera, smiling shyly.
