Emily had eagerly prepared everything for Alex's writing session, and as she led him into the study, Alex found himself momentarily speechless. The room was grander than he had imagined—a perfect blend of elegance and intellectual sophistication. The floor-to-ceiling bookcases lining two of the walls were packed with countless volumes, from classical literature to modern periodicals, showcasing the family's deep appreciation for knowledge. He couldn't help but run his fingers along the spines of the books.
He approached the desk, gently tracing the edge of the paper laid out for him. Several lines floated through his mind, but none of them seemed quite right. He wanted something meaningful, something that would reflect the warmth he had felt from the director and Emily since arriving. Yet every idea seemed too simple, too plain.
Emily stood beside him, bouncing on her toes with excitement. "Uncle Alex, what are you going to write? It has to be something really amazing!" she urged.
Alex smiled down at her but still felt the weight of expectation. He wasn't just writing any couplet; he was trying to express the bond he had formed with this small family, something unique to their shared New Year's Eve. But where to start?
After a moment, he turned to Emily, seeking inspiration. "What did your father usually write for the Spring Festival couplets? Maybe I can continue his tradition."
Emily shrugged, "I don't really remember. I never paid much attention. I was usually more focused on the sweets," she admitted with a giggle.
"I see. Well, that's understandable. Sweets are sweets."
As he stood there, contemplating his options, he thought of the warmth and love that filled the house today. His mind wandered to the idea of renewal, family unity, and growth—things that embodied the spirit of the New Year. Slowly, an idea began to form. He turned to Emily with a small smile.
"What do you think about this? Spring is back, and everything is renewed. Good fortune arrives, and the family is reunited."
"That sounds perfect!" she exclaimed. Without waiting for a second opinion, she grabbed the red paper and rushed off to show her mother. "Mom! Look at what Uncle Alex is going to write!" she called out, waving the paper excitedly.
The Director White, who had been tidying up the living room, turned to inspect the couplet with a warm smile. "It's very nice, Emily," she said, her voice gentle. She read the lines carefully before glancing up at Alex. "It's balanced, fitting for the occasion."
Emily grinned, clearly pleased with her mother's approval. "See? I told you it was good!" She handed the paper back to Alex.
However, the Director White's smile shifted slightly as she thought for a moment. "It's good, but..." she hesitated, glancing back at Alex. "I wonder if we could add something more personal. After all, this is our first New Year together, right? Maybe we can reflect that in the couplet. Something about unity and growth—something that symbolizes us, not just the occasion."
Emily pouted slightly, crossing her arms. "But I like it the way it is. It's already perfect."
The Director White chuckled, giving her daughter a playful pat on the head. "It is good, Emily, but we can make it even better." She turned to Alex with a thoughtful expression. "What if we said something like, 'The spring breeze brings warmth to our hearts, as joy and harmony bloom in every corner.' It emphasizes the warmth of family and the way we've come together."
Alex paused, considering her words. He hadn't thought of it that way, but it was true—this New Year was special. He nodded slowly, impressed by her insight.
"That's perfect," Alex said, "Much better than what I had in mind. Thank you director."
Without thinking, he said director out of habit.
The use of her title caused both Emily and her mother to laugh lightly. The Director White shook her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Alex, you're here as family today. No need for titles."
Embarrassed, Alex smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Right, sorry. Force of habit."
With renewed confidence, Alex took the brush Emily had prepared for him and dipped it into the inkstone. The scent of ink filled the room, a soothing reminder of tradition. Carefully, he began writing the couplet with deliberate, practiced strokes, his hand steady as he brought their collective words to life on the bright red paper.