七楼 · 第五天

English (for the teacher)

Yesterday afternoon, Qiao An saw fresh soil on Zou Yeye's old shoes. Just then, Mr Luo phoned to tell her there was another seventh-floor parcel, already the second one this month.

This morning she was at the parcel station by half past six. Mr Luo was already waiting for her at the door.

He took a small parcel down from his van and put it on her desk: "Another one for the seventh floor."

It had the same words as before: "Building Six, seventh floor." No name, and no phone number.

She picked it up. It was very light, as if there were nothing inside. But as soon as her hand moved, something inside began to rattle, as if lots of tiny things were jumping about.

"Where did this come from?"

"I don't know either; it doesn't say." He looked at his watch. "I've still got lots to deliver. I'm off."

At half past seven, Ningning came in, still holding his breakfast.

When she had told him everything, he put his ear to the parcel at once. She gently shook the parcel, and it rattled again.

"I know!" Ningning said, "It's seeds!"

"Seeds?"

"Yes!" "My grandma often buys flower seeds." "When they arrive they're like this too: very light, and they rattle when you move them."

She thought of the dry leaf, and of the fresh soil on those old shoes. A leaf, soil, and now seeds. Above the sixth floor, was someone really growing flowers?

"It's seeds for sure!" Ningning said, "If I'm right, you buy me a bun!"

She laughed. "Deal." "But we can't open other people's things."

"Then how do we find out who's growing flowers?"

She looked at the little parcel and said nothing for a long time. "Tonight, I'm not going home."

"So you'll sleep here?"

"I won't sleep." "I'll turn off the light, sit here and wait." "I want to see who comes for the seventh-floor seeds."

Ningning looked at the door and said quietly, "But that night, the door stayed shut the whole time."