Siheyuan, integrating everything, cultivating the city

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but somehow, an inexplicable feeling of fatigue gradually enveloped his consciousness, like an invisible fog, weighing down his thoughts.

He shook his head gently, but the trance still did not go away, but became stronger. Li Xiangqian frowned, feeling a little confused. It seemed that he was always like this recently, often feeling dazed, and sometimes even felt that when he was talking to people, there would be a short blank, as if his brain had short-circuited. This state made him a little uneasy. After all, he had always been in good health and did his work in an orderly manner. This situation should not happen.

"Have I been too tired recently?" He muttered to himself, wondering if he had been too busy with work recently. The pace of life was the same as always, but his body and mind were clearly overwhelmed, especially in the past few days, when things came one after another, leaving him no time to rest properly. Li Xiangqian rubbed the back of his neck and felt a little stiff there.

He decided to stand up and move around, perhaps to relieve the inexplicable dizziness. He walked to the window and looked out through the glass. The rain was still falling, and the courtyard was quiet, with only the sound of raindrops echoing in his ears. Li Xiangqian leaned against the window frame, staring at the scene outside, trying to relax himself.

"What happened recently?" He asked himself softly, as if he was talking to himself. Qin Huairu's face appeared in his mind again unconsciously. Since her husband's death, her life has been as dull as dust wet by rain. She tried to maintain her superficial strength, but there was always a trace of deep pain in her eyes. Li Xiangqian couldn't tell his attitude towards her. Perhaps it was a complex pity, or perhaps it was some kind of vague uneasiness.

"I shouldn't get involved in these things." He reminded himself secretly. He didn't want to become the focus of rumors in this small courtyard, especially once his relationship with Qin Huairu was spread, things would only become more complicated. He didn't want to be involved in any entanglements, but at the same time, the dizzy feeling made it impossible for him to stay calm.

Before he could sort out his thoughts, he suddenly heard a slight noise, interrupting his thoughts. He turned around and saw that a bowl on the table was shaking slightly, as if he had accidentally touched the edge of the table when he walked by, causing the bowl to slide. At this moment, the fog in his mind seemed to be gently lifted. He walked to the table, stared at the bowl, and suddenly realized that he had forgotten the main task tonight - making fried pork belly with onions!

"Why am I so confused!" Li Xiangqian slapped his forehead in self-blame, feeling a little annoyed. Usually, he paid the most attention to the details in life, doing things without procrastination and in an orderly manner, but today's state made him feel like a different person. Perhaps it was really the recent pressure that made him a little distracted.

He walked to the kitchen, picked up the onions and the pork belly that had been prepared on the table, and gently stroked the onion skin. The smooth and slightly rough touch made him feel a little relieved. Li Xiangqian closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and told himself to concentrate. This dish of pork belly and onions must be cooked well tonight. This is what he has always wanted to do, not only to satisfy his appetite, but also as a kind of adjustment and comfort to his life.

In the kitchen, the stove fire gradually rose, and the oil in the pot emitted a thin white smoke, and the whole house was filled with a warm atmosphere. Li Xiangqian put the cut pork belly into the pot, and heard the "hissing" sound when the meat slices came into contact with the oil. He felt that the anxiety at that moment seemed to have evaporated with the fumes. The aroma of oil quickly spread in the kitchen, and he skillfully turned the spatula, his movements as smooth as flowing water.

The pork belly in the pot turned golden, with a slightly crispy surface. He quickly poured onions into the pot. The rhythm of cooking gave him a long-lost sense of control. The spatula in his hand flew up and down, and the fragrance of onions and the aroma of pork belly were perfectly intertwined. The air was filled with a rich but not greasy fragrance, which made him feel refreshed.

However, at this moment, a sudden dizziness came over him again. Li Xiangqian's hand trembled slightly, and the spatula slipped unsteadily in his palm, and he almost lost his grip. He quickly steadied himself, and a layer of cold sweat oozed out of his palm. This sudden feeling of weakness made him a little flustered.

"What's going on?" he asked himself in a low voice, frowning.

Something was wrong, something was really wrong. Li Xiangqian felt an inexplicable sense of depression in his heart. He had never felt so uneasy before. Although the dizziness gradually subsided, the discomfort was like an invisible needle, constantly pricking his nerves.

He stopped what he was doing and stood blankly in the middle of the kitchen, his mind in a mess. His physical condition, Qin Huairu's sudden visit, and the lingering fatigue he had been feeling for the past few days, all these things were like a huge net that trapped him tightly. He couldn't figure out why he was in such a confused state, it seemed that everything around him was changing subtly, but he had no ability to control it.

"Am I really sick?" This thought suddenly occurred to him.

However, apart from occasional dizziness and fatigue, there seemed to be no obvious symptoms. He tried to find some reasonable explanation, but in any case, this physical change did make him feel unprecedented powerlessness.

"Maybe I didn't get enough rest." He tried to convince himself and calm down. But the tension in his heart still didn't let go. He looked at the fried pork belly and onions in the pot, and suddenly a strange feeling welled up in his heart. This should have been an ordinary home-cooked dish, but at this moment, it seemed to have become a symbol, symbolizing the trivial but uncontrollable parts of his life.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, took a deep breath, and continued to work with his head down, serving the dish and placing it on the table. However, when he returned to the table with the dish, he felt a subtle sense of strangeness. The familiar dish in front of him seemed to be different from what he remembered. Perhaps his mood had changed, or perhaps his recent state was too bad.

He sat down, picked up the chopsticks, picked up a piece of pork belly, and put it in his mouth. The aroma of the meat slice was still strong, and the sweetness of the onion complemented it, but Li Xiangqian suddenly felt that this bite of food did not bring him much satisfaction. The doubts and confusion in his heart still lingered.