Chapter 91: The Departed Have Gone

The things in life that we are least able to control are birth, aging, sickness, and death. Whether you are a noble or a commoner, no one can escape them. Some people face death with calm acceptance, others with terror, but no matter how you approach it, what is destined to come will come. Since the outcome is the same for us all, why should we be so concerned?

That afternoon, in Snow Village, where rain was rare, a curtain of drizzle descended. The fine rain, like ox hair, gently brushed the ground. The slender threads of rain fell on the blue-tiled roofs and the branches around the village, making a faint rustling sound, as if a subtle symphony was playing between heaven and earth. The usually clear outlines of the village were now blurred. Even the chattering sparrows in the trees seemed to have vanished, seeking shelter.

Xiao Lin carried a small stool and sat at the doorway, gazing blankly at the hazy rain. For a moment, he was overwhelmed with melancholy, thinking of his grandfather.

“Come here, little one, Grandfather has something tasty for you.”

“My precious grandson, you’ve grown taller again. When you grow up, you’ll ride a white horse and carry a steel rifle.”

“Grandfather is old now, not like before when I could carry you up the mountain. Time spares no one.”

“Eldest grandson, Grandfather can no longer catch fish with you.”

Scenes of time spent with his grandfather flashed through Xiao Lin’s mind: a kind old man carrying his grandson, catching fish, climbing mountains together. Gradually, the old man’s back became stooped, the wrinkles on his face deepened. The mischievous child who used to tug at his beard slowly grew up.

“Grandfather.” Xiao Lin muttered softly. The last image in his mind was of the hospital: a gaunt old man, trembling as he lifted his hand to gently stroke his beloved grandson’s face, softly wiping away the tears from the boy’s eyes.

“Don’t cry, little one. Birth, aging, sickness, and death are the way of life. Grandfather will watch over you from heaven.”

Unnoticed, tears welled in Xiao Lin’s eyes. His grandfather, the one who doted on him most, was gone forever, never again to catch fish with him. Now he could only remember this loved one, cherished deep in his bones, through memories. At that moment, the rain outside grew heavier, sobbing as it poured from the sky, as if even heaven and earth sensed the sorrow of this young man.

A slender, tender finger gently wiped away Xiao Lin’s tears. “Are you missing your grandfather?” A familiar voice sounded. Wang Yuqing, seeing Xiao Lin lost in thought outside his door, couldn’t help but walk over, only to find him looking heartbroken, glistening tears soaking his handsome cheeks. Quick-witted as ever, she immediately guessed what was on Xiao Lin’s mind.

“Mm.” Seeing the girl before him, feeling her inner gentleness, Xiao Lin replied softly. At this moment, Xiao Lin was vulnerable; the pain of losing a loved one isn’t something that can be avoided by having a strong personality. Xiao Lin might be a bit willful, but there were still people he cared about in this world—his family, and the girl in front of him.

With a gentle sigh, Wang Yuqing looked at Xiao Lin’s sorrowful face. She did not know how to comfort him with words, so she simply embraced him, letting his head rest against her chest, soothing his pain with her tenderness. For a time, a handsome youth sat sorrowfully on a small stool, while a graceful girl held him gently, the fine rain falling in a delicate curtain. In that moment—the people, the rain, the love, the sentiment—came together as if forming a painting, one that even the most gifted artist could not capture.

In the east room, Grandma Xiao was busy sewing a blue robe, muttering to herself from time to time: “That old man always loved wearing this robe. Before he left, he asked me to burn it for him, to keep him company. Hmph, he can dream on. When I’m gone, I’ll bring it to him myself.” Grandma Xiao and Xiao Lin’s grandfather had been childhood sweethearts, sharing decades of deep affection. On the day Xiao Lin’s grandfather passed, she fell ill upon returning home, nearly following him on his journey. It was only Xiao Lin’s persistent calls for his grandmother that pulled her back from the brink.

After a long while, Grandma Xiao finally finished sewing the blue robe. She carefully folded it, smoothing out every crease. “Time to visit the old man,” she said, placing the robe in a chest, then picking up a small basket from the table. Slinging it over her arm, she called toward the west room, “Linlin, it’s time to visit your grandfather.”

Hearing his grandmother’s call, Xiao Lin lifted his head and quickly wiped away the tear stains from his face. He did not want her to see. “Yuqing, I’m going to see my grandfather,” he said, rising to leave, only to have his hand caught by Wang Yuqing’s small one.

“I’m coming too,” she said, looking at him with unwavering resolve.

Unable to refuse her insistence, Xiao Lin brought her along to the ancestral hall. Tan Linlin and Xu Tong didn’t go—not because they didn’t want to, but according to village customs, only family members could enter the ancestral hall. Of course, Wang Yuqing wasn’t strictly family, but to Xiao Lin, she was as close as kin. Grandma Xiao, seeing how inseparable her grandson and Wang Yuqing were, understood their bond at a glance. She liked Wang Yuqing very much—gentle by nature, beautiful, well-educated, and considerate. Though her figure was a bit slight, not fitting Grandma Xiao’s idea of being well-suited for childbearing, what mattered was that her grandson liked her. In this respect, Grandma Xiao was open-minded.

Soon the three of them arrived at the ancestral hall, where many villagers had already gathered to pay respects to their ancestors. Led by Grandma Xiao, they made their way to the shrine holding Xiao Lin’s grandfather’s memorial tablet. She took from her basket offerings of white wine, fresh fruit, large steamed buns, and other items, while Xiao Lin lit several sticks of incense for his grandfather. Amidst the curling smoke, Xiao Lin seemed to see again that kindly old man, the one who called him “little one.”

As Grandma Xiao arranged the offerings, she spoke softly, “Old man, I’m here to see you again. Are you doing well over there? I’ve brought you your favorite wine and fruit...” Then she hugged the memorial tablet as if it were her old companion, tears streaming down her face, murmuring fragments of their shared past.

Listening to his grandmother’s rambling words, Xiao Lin’s nose stung, and tears nearly fell again. Wang Yuqing, understanding, stepped forward and gently took his hand, letting him know she was there for him. Feeling the warmth of her palm, Xiao Lin turned to her and managed a difficult smile.

Wang Yuqing bowed deeply before the memorial shrine. “Grandfather, please don’t worry. I promise to take good care of Xiao Lin,” she vowed silently in her heart.