A world of its own, half a lifetime of composure: Lin Wan's time in the square bathtub
In late autumn in the south, there is always a damp coolness. The paulownia leaves outside the window rustled in the wind, and the withered yellow leaves twirled and fell onto the terrace of the apartment. Lin Wan, with a somewhat tired body, returned home. The sensor lights at the entrance hall lit up one by one as she walked, as if a group of sensible elves were welcoming the hostess's return.
This day was not an easy one.
As the chief architect of an architectural design firm, Lin Wan is accustomed to shuttling between drawings and clients. At the age of forty, it's like a watershed. There are elderly parents to care about above, a daughter in her adolescence to worry about below, and the workplace leaves no room for the slightest slackness. She often feels like a precision instru-ment wound up, running non-stop in this fast-paced city.
It was not until half a year ago that she finally made up her mind to give the master bedroom bathroom of this old house a complete makeover.That was the scene she had sketched countless times in her dreams: abandoning those irregular-shaped bathtubs designed to save space, she insisted on placing a square-shaped independent bathtub in the not-so-spacious bathroom.
All her friends laughed at her stubbornness: "Put such a big 'stone' in it. It's hard to turn around. Why bother?"
Only Lin Wan knew that it was not merely a container for taking a bath; it was an "inviolable territory" she had carved out for herself in this home. The square lines represent a kind of order, a stubbornness that refuses to be casually manipulated by life. Just like her life at this moment, she no longer pursues smoothness and trickery, but just wants to live with sharp edges, clarity and certainty.
Immersion: A refuge in the mist At this moment, Lin Wan shed the shackles of her professional attire and stepped barefoot on the warm marble floor. She skillfully turned on the vintage brass faucet, and clear water poured down, hitting the white porcelain glaze inner wall and making a pleasant sound. She sprinkled a few drops of ylang-ylang essential oil and a few dried rose petals. The water level gradually rose, and the steam began to spread throughout the bathroom, blurring the mirror surface and the neon lights of the city outside the window.
She slowly sat down in the water, and the warm touch instantly enveloped every inch of her skin, as if it were a long-lost embrace. The advantage of a square bathtub is that you can lie flat with your legs stretched out and your back can fit perfectly against the straight wall of the bathtub. She leaned back there, closed her eyes and let out a long sigh of relief.
At this moment, the world was isolated outside that frosted glass door.
There were no mountains of reports, no rebellious slamming of the daughter's door, nor the husband's unromantic snoring. Only the gentle sound of rippling water and the faint fragrance of essential oils melting in hot water could be heard. The warm yellow wall lamp she had specially chosen in the bathroom cast her shadow on the wall, gently swaying with the water waves, like a flowing ink-wash painting.
Awakening: The sense of ritual in Solitude In this small space, Lin Wan regained the long-lost sense of control. She recalled that when she was young, she had stayed up all night to catch up on a project and once soaked her feet in a plastic basin in a small rented room. I also recalled the early years after giving birth when taking a bath was a luxury. I could only take a quick shower during the intervals when the child was asleep.
At that time, she was like a duckweed drifting with the current. And at this moment, this square bathtub is a stable lighthouse in her life journey. It reminded her that no matter how noisy the outside world was, she always had a corner where her soul could rest.
She picked up the book placed on the small wooden rack at the edge of the bathtub - it was Woolf's "A Room of One's Own". The water vapor playfully moistened the pages, but she didn't care. She read the words about women's independence and freedom, and occasionally cast her gaze out of the window. The night was deep and dark, and the pot of green ivy on the terrace swayed gently in the night breeze. It turns out that happiness can be so simple. Lin Wan said to herself in her heart.
It doesn't need grand celebrations or recognition from others. It's just a piece of hot water that belongs to oneself, a period of undisturbed time, and a decision that dares to stay for oneself.
Epilogue: Gentle Power
I don't know how much time had passed, but the water gradually turned cold. Lin Wan got up and wrapped
herself in a wide bath towel. The woman in the mirror had fine lines at the corners of her eyes, but her
gaze was brighter and softer than during the day.herself in a wide bath towel. The woman in the mirror had fine lines at the corners of her eyes,
She pushed open the bathroodoor. From the living room came the relaxed laughter of her daughter after she finished her homework.
Her husband was sitting on the sofa watching the news. The aroma of the food wafted from the kitchen; it was the scent of home.
Lin Wan didn't join them immediately. Instead, she stood at the bathroom door and turned her head to take a look at the square bathtub. Water droplets slid down the tank wall, shimmering faintly under the light.
It stood there quietly, like a silent old friend who had just listened to all her worries.
Lin Wan's lips curled up slightly as she walked towards her family with light steps.
She knows that tomorrow's life will still be full of challenges and exhaustion, but as long as this world remains, she can be fully rejuvenated here time and again, with gentle yet firm strength, to embrace her own vibrant life.
