Chapter 15: The Bamboo Journal
The morning light filtered softly through the gauze curtains of Stillness House.
Lin Mu stood at the garden gate, tying a new wind chime to the overhang. The sound of hollow bamboo clinking filled the air—a soothing, irregular melody that seemed to echo in the corners of the heart.
From the kitchen, the smell of rice porridge and goji berries drifted outward.
Xu Qingling appeared on the stone path, holding two small bowls.
"Breakfast first," she said, nudging his elbow.
Lin Mu wiped his hands and smiled. "Is this the mulberry version again?"
"With lotus seeds this time. You'll like it."
They sat side by side on the back steps, facing the dew-kissed herbs.
No words were needed.
The sound of birds, the bubbling of the tea kettle, and the wind brushing against the leaves made the morning whole.
---
After breakfast, Xu Qingling pulled out a leather-bound book.
"What's that?" Lin Mu asked.
She opened it to a blank page.
"A guest journal. I thought… maybe we can invite visitors to write a sentence after their tea."
He raised an eyebrow. "You think they'd want to?"
"Some might," she said. "Sometimes writing helps people process more than speaking."
She flipped to the first page and wrote in neat characters:
> Stillness House Guest Journal
One sentence is enough.
Tell us what you felt.
"Simple," he said.
"Quiet," she replied.
They left it on the center table under the wisteria arch, beside a pen and a small ceramic dish of pressed flowers.
---
That day, five more guests arrived.
One, an elderly painter with ink-stained hands. He asked for "Waking Light" and sat sketching the koi pond for nearly an hour.
When he left, he paused at the journal.
After a moment, he wrote:
> "The stillness here paints more clearly than my brush ever could." – Master Lu
---
Another was a university student in a hoodie, exhausted from internship applications and final exams.
She drank "Clear Mind," curled up on the cushion, and quietly wept for twenty minutes.
Before she left, she jotted down:
> "I cried, and no one asked why. That was kindness enough." – L.
---
One by one, the pages began to fill.
Some entries were poetic.
Some were simple:
> "It made me breathe slower."
"Reminded me of my grandma's kitchen."
"I remembered I like the color green."
Xu Qingling read them at night, tracing her finger across the ink like touching memories.
Lin Mu smiled at her growing collection.
"You're building a second shelf," he said.
She looked up. "What do you mean?"
He pointed to her heart. "That one."
She looked away, cheeks faintly pink.
---
Later that evening, as the sun dipped behind the old pine tree, a new guest arrived unexpectedly.
He wore a traveler's jacket, dusty and faded, and carried a leather satchel slung across his shoulder.
He bowed politely. "I heard from my niece. She said this place is... slow."
Lin Mu and Xu Qingling exchanged a glance.
"We can serve one more," Xu Qingling said.
The man sat beneath the wisteria.
"Something earthy," he said. "Like soil after rain."
Lin Mu brewed "Stone Root" — a blend of fermented pu-erh and wild ginger root harvested in the portable world's deeper valleys.
As the man drank, he closed his eyes.
"I haven't had tea like this since Yunnan," he murmured. "Before smartphones."
When he finished, he walked to the guest journal.
He paused.
Then wrote:
> "Time bent here, not forward or backward, but inward." – T.Z.
---
That night, Lin Mu and Xu Qingling returned to the portable world.
The stars were brighter than usual.
They sat beneath the willow tree, paging through Xu Qingling's collection of pressed leaves and dried petals.
"We should do something for guests who return more than once," she said.
"Like what?"
"Maybe a custom tea. One only they get."
"A personal blend."
She nodded. "Something named after them. Or their memory."
Lin Mu considered it. "I could track ingredients in a new ledger. A kind of… flavor map."
Xu Qingling's eyes sparkled. "Let's start tonight."
They created their first entry:
> Guest: Miss Zhao
Tieguanyin base
Wild night mint
Hint of dried rose
Blend Name: "Steel Petal"
"She's strong," Xu Qingling said. "But soft at the edges."
"Perfect."
They filed the recipe in a scroll tucked beside the tea jars in the portable pavilion.
---
Two days later, Miss Zhao returned.
She didn't book in advance. She simply appeared, a rare smile on her lips.
"I needed to slow down again," she said.
Xu Qingling brought her the new custom blend without explanation.
She sipped once and blinked.
"This isn't on your menu."
Lin Mu leaned against the post. "It's yours."
Zhao looked at the cup. Then at the two of them.
"I don't usually get emotional," she said.
"You don't need to," Xu Qingling replied gently.
When Zhao left, she returned to the guest journal and added beneath her previous note:
> "You remembered me."
---
The garden continued to grow.
A patch of yellow lilies blossomed beside the koi pond. The lavender bush near the old gate began to lean toward the path—almost like it wanted to greet the guests.
Lin Mu and Xu Qingling noticed small things.
A bowl that never dried out.
A cicada that chirped in rhythm with the bamboo chime.
A sense of lightness that lingered in the air longer than it should.
Even the portable world began showing signs of evolution.
Tiny mushrooms appeared near the pond—glowing faintly, pulsing in sync with footsteps.
One morning, a trail of flower petals led from the orchard to the water pavilion, even though no wind had blown through.
It was as if the space itself was welcoming them home.
---
That night, while sitting under the tree of lanterns in the portable world, Lin Mu pulled out a new pouch of tea.
"Try this," he said.
Xu Qingling sipped.
Warm. Floral. A touch of toasted grain and violet.
"This one's… nostalgic," she said. "Like a summer evening when I was ten."
Lin Mu smiled. "I was going to call it 'Memory Lane.'"
She looked at him.
Then set her cup down.
"Do you realize," she said, "that you've changed too?"
"How so?"
"You used to walk with your shoulders tense."
"And now?"
"You move like you trust the world a little more."
He looked into her eyes, the lantern light softening her silhouette.
"I think the world gave me a reason to."
She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.
They sat like that until the sky turned lavender with the fake dawn inside the portable world.
---
The next day, Xu Qingling added one more page to the guest journal.
This time, it wasn't for a visitor.
It was for herself.
She wrote:
> "The garden didn't just grow flowers. It grew me." – Q.L.
And she left the pen beside the page, in case Lin Mu wanted to write something too.
---
End of Chapter 15