father - home

I don't know how long it took, Joseph sent his father to the bedroom, and then returned to the greenhouse, and I was still standing in the original place.

Joseph patted me on the shoulder.

"how is he?"

"He was very excited, but it's okay. I gave him medicine and he will be fine after a night of sleep."

"I swear, I didn't mean to say that, I didn't mean to ask him to apologize, he had nothing to do with Manfred's death. You know, I'm not a cruel man."

"I know, and he knows it too. It's okay, he wants you back, and he is prepared."

"He wanted me back? I thought it was you."

"If he doesn't agree, how dare I?" Joseph smiled at me, and packed up the couch and the folding chair that fell on the ground.I was so excited just now that I didn't even notice that the chair was knocked over. "For one thing, I think you've misunderstood him. It was the Baroness and I who decided to send you to Randolph boarding school. Sir was in prison at the time and didn't know it. At that time, you went to school in the town and often Bullied and abused. Before the war the Baronets had been patrons of the Randolph boarding school, which was also Mr.'s alma mater, so we figured you'd get a good aristocratic education there with no harm. The husband only found out about this after he came back, he was very angry, and he still refuses to forgive me.”

"That's right." I regretted what I said just now, but it was useless, I sighed quietly, and changed the subject. "Do you know why he wants me back?"

"He's really running out of time, and he has something very important to tell you."

"What is it?"

Joseph shook his head.

"Is it about my life experience?" I asked.

Joseph looked at me and hesitated.He won't lie to me. "I don't know everything. I'd better let my husband tell you."

Joseph lifted a pot of orchids from the shelf and put them on the workbench.A cluster of green, slender, flexible and vigorous leaves spread out to all sides. Although there are no flowers, they are still graceful and moving.

"What is this for?" I asked.

"These five pots of flowers have already bloomed, and they are now in a dormant period. They just happen to be divided into pots. In the past, the husband did it himself. Now he can't do it anymore. He just told me to do it well today."

I followed Joseph and took the other four pots of orchids on the shelf to the workbench. "When did he like orchids? I don't think I've seen him do it before."

"He never planted anything before, this is after you left."

"It's not easy to grow orchids here, is it?"

"It's not. At first I thought it was just a whim, to relieve some loneliness. Unexpectedly, he was very careful and obsessed. I didn't know why until later."

"why?"

"Because of your father."

"My father?"

"Yes, your biological father, Mr. said he is like orchids, a gentleman among flowers, Mr. loves him, so cherish these orchids."

I was dumbfounded by what I said, and after a while I said, "Aren't you angry?"

"Me? Angry? Why?"

"He, don't you love him? You never married for him."

Joseph froze for a moment, then resumed his work after a while. "Heinz, I thought you understood that as a man, loving another man may require more commitment than loving a woman."

Joseph spoke so calmly, without joy or sorrow, that I suddenly felt that I didn't understand him at all.

Joseph prepared the necessary tools and materials, such as flower shovels, scissors, trays, plastic buckets, filling shovels of various sizes, a few tiles, two large bags of pumice stones, and coconut shells.Said to me: "You bring the flower pot."

"Where? This one?"

"Yes, bring it."

In the corner, there are several packages of things wrapped in foam plastic film, which are the flower pots that Joseph said.I moved a pack first, and it didn't feel as heavy as I imagined.

"Where did this come from? It's so carefully wrapped."

"Ordered from Taiwan, China, there was a wooden box outside, which has been dismantled."

"It shouldn't be a porcelain basin. It doesn't seem too heavy." If you want a high-quality porcelain basin, there is no need to go far and wide to order it from Taiwan, as Germany has it.

"It's purple sand. My husband said that purple sand and orchids are a perfect match. The purple sand is not glazed on the inside and outside. It is dense and tough, and has ideal moisture absorption, ventilation and drainage properties. It's just hard to get. Years ago, my husband managed to order one from Taiwan. Although the quality is still not comparable to that of mainland China, it finally came true.”

As he spoke, Joseph carefully opened the plastic packaging layer by layer with scissors.This pack is five flower pots, the same size and shape, stacked on top of each other, with foam plastic pads between the pots, and each flower pot is also wrapped with foam plastic film to prevent scratches and damage during long-distance transportation.

"Five more flower pots, you bring another pack."

I moved another pack, opened it, and there were still five flower pots, about the same size as the previous ones, but different shapes.While the previous pack was round, this one is quadrilateral, with each side curved slightly outward.

"How many have you ordered in total? Are they all of this size?" I asked.

"This size is the most basic. There are a total of six packs of various shapes, thirty of them, fifteen for larger ones, and larger, deeper, and elongated ones. There are sixty flower pots in total. Each one It's all different."

"Every one is different?" I muttered in my heart, "Isn't this pack of five the same?"

Joseph and I unpacked all the pots and arranged them one by one.Only then did I realize that these ten flower pots not only have different engravings and patterns on the pots, but flowers, birds, fish and insects, landscape figures, poems and songs are all different, and even the colors of the flower pots are also different. From raw ochre to cooked brown, no two are even close.I couldn't help being a little surprised, "Joseph, have you seen these sixty flower pots, are they really different?"

"No, but my husband said that he made an agreement when he ordered, and there will never be the same."

"He really put his mind to it."

"Didn't you see that when the flower pots didn't arrive, Mr. Wang looked anxious and worried. I've never seen him like this in my life. After finally coming to inform that the flower pots had arrived in Hamburg, he couldn't wait for a moment , I insisted on going to Hamburg to pick up the goods in person, but his health was already failing. In the end, I tried to persuade him to stay, but the premise was that I had to go in person.”

Everything was ready, and Joseph set to work.He held the root of the orchid with his left hand and the flowerpot with his right hand, shaking it a few times before pulling out the orchid with its roots.His right hand is missing four fingers, and it seems that he is struggling.I offered to let me try it, so he handed me the orchid in his hand.

"Because there are many roots attached to the inside of the flowerpot, you have to shake it a few times before taking it out, and you must be very careful when taking it out." He handed me a bamboo chopstick, picked up the scissors and waited. "You can see that these roots are very dense, with old soil mixed in. Use bamboo chopsticks to insert them in the middle of the roots, slowly remove the old soil, and then cut off the rotten roots."

I followed his instructions one by one and divided the plant into two.Joseph mixed pumice stones and coconut husk pieces in a ratio of six to four in a tray, stirred them well, and he picked out the particularly large pumice stones and piled them aside. "Pumice has good air permeability, is porous, can store water, and has strong thermal insulation properties. It is the most suitable for growing orchids."

Then it's time to pot.Joseph put a tile on the bottom of the pot to cover the drainage hole, piled some large pieces of pumice that he picked out just now, laid the mixed culture soil on it, and compacted it slightly with his hands.I put the orchid upright on it.

"Orchids should be planted shallow and the bulbs should be visible. You hold the leaves with one hand and add soil with the other. Hold the base of the orchid and lift it up slightly to let the roots stretch out. At the same time, shake the flowerpot to let the cultivation soil go deep into the gap between the roots. By the way, that's it. Continue to add soil, shake the flower pot, and adjust the position and height of the orchid." Joseph said, seeing that I didn't do it well, he stretched out his hand to help, pressing along the side of the pot, and then continued to add soil and press , until the soil on the surface of the pot is higher than the mouth of the pot, slightly in the shape of a round bread.

"Okay, the last thing is to water it." Before the work was done, I took the flower pot and turned it around, admiring my masterpiece.

That pot of grass-like orchids, a clump of faint green, radiates unstoppable brilliance as it turns.The slender and flexible leaves are dark as ink on the back and bright as frost on the front.The lengths are uneven, the curves are scattered, or the sword points to the sky, or flips in the air, some are dancing like water sleeves, and some are like the arms of apes.There is elegance in the calmness, and the brilliance in the elegance. It is really delicate and elegant, graceful, restrained, and elegant.Look at the wall of the purple sand basin, which is also engraved with a cluster of orchids, and there are a few lines of small characters beside it.At that time, I didn't understand Chinese, and I didn't know the meaning of this sentence. I just felt that the combination of orchids, purple sand, and reliefs was so harmonious and unified, and it was completely natural.The purple sand is rough and dark in color, simple and thick, and the orchid is as delicate as jade, delicate and moist.That scene, that color, that thing is so familiar and kind.

Later, I learned that the Chinese sentence on the purple sand basin was said by Confucius: "Zhilan grows in a deep valley, and does not lose its fragrance because of no one. A gentleman cultivates morality and establishes virtue, and does not change his festival for poverty." It turns out that Chinese people love orchids, Comparing it to a gentleman has a history of thousands of years.

"When are you going to finish admiring it? If you don't water it, I'm afraid this pot of orchids won't survive." Joseph stood aside with a plastic bucket filled with water, squinting at me.That look clearly said: "I knew it would be like this."

I quickly put down the orchid, smiled apologetically, and reached out to take the plastic bucket.

"When watering, the water flow should be small and the speed should be slow. Don't use too much force, just water thoroughly." Joseph watched me finish watering, and moved the flowerpot to the shaded place at the bottom of the flower stand. "Okay, that's all. The next job, you can do it alone? You have to get it all done before dinner."

"No problem, I'm so old, don't you feel relieved?" I think I showed that mischievous and coquettish smile again, which is a smile that only exists in front of Joseph.

"Well, I'll call you at dinner." Before Joseph went out, he looked back at me.That blind eye is still the most familiar and warm loving gaze that I am most familiar with.

I quickly planted the remaining nine pots of orchids, watered them, and placed them neatly on the lower shelf.After packing up all the tools, Joseph had not come to invite me to have dinner, so I watched carefully in the greenhouse.

After looking around, I found that almost all of the hundreds of pots of orchids in the greenhouse were varieties with slender leaves. Except for a few pots of Cymbidium, which were in full bloom, there was no one with wider and slightly oval leaves. , such as Phalaenopsis and Clivia that we are familiar with, there is no lily of the valley in Europe, phoenix orchid in Africa, or Cattleya in South America.I took a closer look at the signs on the flower pots: Chunlan, produced in the Yangtze River Valley of China; Jianlan, produced in Zhejiang, China; Hanlan, produced in Southwest China; Molan, produced in Southern China; Chunjian, produced in Sichuan, China.It turns out that the orchids here are all produced in southern China.The petals of the blooming flowers are as slender and handsome as the leaves, with a unique look.The flowers are rich in color, including red, yellow, white, green, purple, and black. There are also multiple colors and variegated colors. There are veins and spots on the petals. They are truly magnificent and dazzling.The red is gorgeous, the yellow is golden and eye-catching, the white is elegant and indifferent, the green is crystal green, the purple is like a demon, and the black is graceful and magnanimous.Complex colors and variegated colors are full of pearls and jade, with long charm, noble demeanor and ten thousand demeanor.

Being in such a quiet place of orchids, I feel refreshed.Inhale intently, the tip of the nose has a dark fragrance floating, and after chasing it away, it turns out that the pure, remote and refreshing fragrance comes from the heart of Dodo Orchid.Secretly amazed, such a rich and fragrant fragrance, how could I not notice it.When I looked back and saw the couch where my father had just been lying on, I suddenly realized.Patients who are dying like my father will emit a special smell from their bodies, most of which are foul and unpleasant.It was a mixture of various smells, the smell of disinfectant and alcohol, the unique smell of various medicines, the smell of excrement and sweat left by bedridden patients, and the special smell of dying people.These smells will become more and more intense as we get closer to death. This is the smell of death.However, since I walked into the greenhouse, I didn't feel the existence of this smell.It can't be because I've been in the hospital for a long time, and in the hospital I am very sensitive to this smell, which is definitely not used to.That can only be because here, these unpleasant, disgusting and frightening smells are neutralized by the pure, rich orchid fragrance.Maybe it was because I didn't smell the death smell on my father that when I heard his sarcastic words and saw his sharp eyes, I completely forgot that he was a dying patient, so I couldn't control my impulse. said those words.

A figure appeared outside the door. I thought it was Joseph. Unexpectedly, a boy of thirteen or fourteen years old with blond curly hair, blue eyes, and freckles on both sides of his nose came in.

"Sir, Joseph asked me to tell you to go to the kitchen for dinner." The boy said very stiffly, like an endorsement.

"Okay, I'll go right now."

The boy didn't leave right away, but stood at the door, looking me up and down curiously.

"What's your name?" I picked up a book on the corner of the workbench and asked the boy.

"I... my name is Paul."

"Then you are Verma's grandson?"

The boy nodded, still not taking his eyes off me.

I was a little scared by him. In order to get rid of the embarrassment, I shook the book in my hand to Paul. "Who is reading this book?"

"This is Mr.'s, you'd better not touch it!" Saying that, Paul unceremoniously snatched the book from my hand, and carefully put it back to the original place.

This sudden action confused me, as did he himself, he withdrew his hand and put it in his trouser pocket, then pulled it out again, not knowing what to do.At last, he lowered his head, avoided my gaze, rushed out the door, and ran away.

I was a little dumbfounded, and looked down at the "Mr.'s book" again. I didn't expect it to be a Chinese book. The stack was full of Chinese books, and there was a "Chinese-German Dictionary". It turned out that my father was learning Chinese.Later I learned that one of the stack of books was "A Brief History of Lanhui" published in 1923, written by Wu Enyuan from Hangzhou County, Zhejiang Province.Another book is "Orchid Planting Law" written by Xia Zhibin in 1930.