In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

The third Sunday of May was exceptionally sunny.

At seven o'clock in the morning, Jingwan was already sitting on the stone bench in the courtyard reciting her lessons. The coursework for the third year of junior high school was intense, and with only a little over a month left before the high school entrance exam, she dared not slack off in the slightest.

Jingwan stared intently at her political textbook, softly reciting, "The general line of the New Democratic Revolution is..."

When Chu Yuanjun came out of the kitchen, she was both pleased and heartbroken to see her daughter working so hard.

"Jingwan, let's eat breakfast first. It won't make a difference if we spend a little more time studying."

"Mom, I'll memorize another section." Jingwan didn't even look up. "After breakfast, I have to do a math test, and this afternoon I'm going to my classmate's house to review history together."

Chu Yuanjun shook his head, didn't try to persuade him any further, and turned back to the kitchen to get breakfast.

At 8:30, the family sat around the main room for breakfast. It was simple porridge, steamed buns, pickled vegetables, and a few salted duck eggs that Yang Guangming had brought back yesterday.

Jingwan ate quickly, and as soon as she finished, she wanted to get up and go back to her room.

"Wait a minute," Yang Guangming called out to her. "It's Sunday today, don't push yourself too hard. There are methods to studying, and you need to balance work and rest for high efficiency."

Jingwan pursed her lips and whispered, "Brother, I know. But our homeroom teacher said that the competition for the high school entrance exam this year is particularly fierce. There are only so many high school places in the whole city, and if you don't get in, you'll have to go straight to work. I want to get into the No. 1 Girls' High School, which is a key city school, and the score requirements are high."

Yang Guangming understood his younger sister's pressure. In this era, educational resources were limited, and the high school admission rate was indeed low. Getting into high school meant a greater chance of going to university and a better future. Jingwan had loved learning since she was little, was ambitious, and naturally wanted to give it her all.

"Okay then," Yang Guangming put down his chopsticks, "I'm free this morning. Bring me the parts you find most difficult, or the questions you've gotten wrong recently. Let's analyze them together."

Jingwan's eyes lit up: "Really? Brother, can you help me with my math? I've been losing points on geometry in the last few tests."

"Okay, after breakfast we'll sit in the yard, sunbathe and talk about our problems."

Jingwan then sat down with peace of mind and slowly finished the porridge in her bowl.

After breakfast, Yang Guangming moved two chairs to the pomegranate tree. Jingwan came out carrying a stack of textbooks, test papers, and exercise books, and sat down next to her brother.

The May sun was warm but not harsh, and a gentle breeze carried the faint fragrance of flowers. The courtyard was quiet, with only the rustling sound of turning pages.

Yang Guangming first looked at Jingwan's recent math tests. Sure enough, she got almost all the algebra questions right, but lost a lot of points on the geometry section, especially the proof questions.

"Look at this problem," he said, pointing to a problem proving triangle congruence. "Your approach is correct, but the auxiliary lines are drawn incorrectly. You should draw a parallel line starting here."

He picked up a pencil and began drawing diagrams on a piece of scrap paper to explain. His voice was calm and clear, and he explained each step thoroughly.

Jingwan listened attentively, nodding occasionally or asking questions. Yang Guangming's explanation style differed from her teacher's; he focused more on guiding the thought process rather than rote memorization of theorems. After a few problems were explained, she felt a sudden sense of clarity.

"Brother, how come you know everything?" Jingwan couldn't help but ask. "You can explain math, Chinese, and even politics and history. Our teachers can't explain things as clearly as you."

Yang Guangming smiled and said, "Just observe and learn more. Your brother here is an educated man, after all."

Of course, he wouldn't say that this was the knowledge and experience accumulated over three lifetimes. He could effortlessly recall not only junior high school math, but also university-level advanced mathematics and knowledge in his professional field.

“Jingwan, learning isn’t just for exams.” Yang Guangming put down his pencil and looked at his younger sister. “The knowledge you’re learning now may not all be useful in your future life. But the thinking skills, analytical skills, and problem-solving skills you develop during the learning process will benefit you for a lifetime.”

Jingwan nodded thoughtfully.

"So don't be afraid of wrong answers, don't be afraid of difficult questions," Yang Guangming continued. "If you make a mistake, figure out why you made it wrong, and you won't make the same mistake again. If it's difficult, find a way to overcome it, and your abilities will improve. Exams are just a way to test your learning outcomes, not the goal itself."

These words eased Jingwan's tense nerves considerably.

"Brother, sometimes I think about what will happen if I don't get into high school," she said softly, a hint of unease in her voice. "Liu Xiaofang from our neighborhood didn't get in last year and is now an apprentice at a textile factory. Although she says her job is pretty good, I still want to go to school."

Yang Guangming understands this anxiety. In this era, it's not easy for girls to have the opportunity to study. Jingwan cherishes this opportunity and also longs to change her destiny through knowledge.

“Jingwan, listen to your brother.” His tone was gentle but firm. “First of all, with your current grades, as long as you perform normally, getting into high school shouldn’t be a problem. You need to have confidence in yourself.”

"Secondly, even if you don't pass the exam, the sky won't fall. You can study for another year and try again, or you can start working sooner to ease the burden on your family and contribute to the country's development. You have a long life ahead of you, and one exam doesn't determine your entire life."

He paused, looking into his sister's eyes: "Most importantly, whatever you do in the future, I will support you. Our family is better off now, you have plenty of opportunities to try and plenty of time to grow. Don't put too much pressure on yourself, okay?"

Jingwan's eyes reddened slightly. She nodded vigorously, her voice choked with emotion, "Yes, I understand, brother."

"Alright, wipe your eyes." Yang Guangming handed over a handkerchief. "Let's continue with the questions. If we thoroughly understand the geometry part, we'll definitely improve our scores on the next exam."

The brother and sister then threw themselves back into their studies.

Yang Guangming not only taught mathematics, but also helped Jingwan organize the historical timeline and explained some core political concepts.

He spoke in a vivid and interesting way, combining dry knowledge points with real life and historical stories, which captivated Jingwan and made it much easier for her to remember.

Before I knew it, the morning had passed.

During lunch, Jingwan's worried expression lessened considerably, and she became more talkative, even sharing some amusing anecdotes from school. Chu Yuanjun observed this with amusement.

In the afternoon, Jingwan went to her classmate's house to study as promised. Yang Guangming stayed home organizing some work documents.

Around 3 o'clock, the postman's voice came from outside the courtyard gate: "Telegram to Yang Huai-ren's house!"

telegraph?

Yang Guangming had a sudden thought, put down his pen, got up and walked out of the main room.

Chu Yuanjun had already opened the door. The postman handed over a yellow envelope, which Chu Yuanjun signed for, his hand trembling slightly as he held it.

In those days, ordinary families rarely received telegrams unless there was an emergency or a major event.

"Whose telegram is this?" Yang Huai-ren came out of the house.

“From Shanghai.” Chu Yuanjun handed him the envelope. “It’s from Huaiyi.”

Yang Huai-ren took it, tore open the seal, and pulled out the telegram. There weren't many words on it; he glanced at it and his face darkened.

"What's wrong?" Chu Yuanjun asked anxiously.

Yang Huai-ren handed her the telegram, his voice low and somber: "Mother passed away yesterday afternoon."

Chu Yuanjun received the telegram, which contained only two short lines: "Mother passed away on the 17th. Her body will be laid to rest. Huaiyi, Huaili."

Concise and restrained, in line with the sparing nature of telegrams, it also conveys a sense of weariness following sorrow.

Yang Hanzhang, who had just woken up from his afternoon nap, also heard the commotion and came out to ask, "What is it?"

Yang Huai-ren handed over the telegram: "Father, it's a telegram from Shanghai. Mother passed away yesterday."

Yang Hanzhang's hand trembled slightly. He took the telegram, put on his reading glasses, and read it carefully several times. After a long while, he slowly took off his glasses and let out a long sigh.

"It's good that they're gone; they'll suffer less."

The old man's voice was calm, but Yang Guangming could hear the turmoil beneath the calm. Even after decades of marriage, if the feelings had faded, it wouldn't be easy for him to feel good at this moment.

Chu Yuanjun said, "Father, please accept my condolences. Mother's health has been poor for the past few years, and her passing is a relief."

Yang Hanzhang nodded, sat down in the chair, and remained silent.

The atmosphere in the main room was somewhat heavy.

Yang Guangming poured a cup of hot tea and handed it to his grandfather, asking softly, "Dad, the telegram says the burial is on the 20th, which is the day after tomorrow. Should we... send someone?"

Traditionally, the eldest son should be present. However, Shanghai is a thousand miles away from Beiping, making the trip difficult.

Yang Huai-ren glanced at his father, then at the telegram, and pondered, "I'm the eldest son, so I should go. But this round trip will take at least five or six days, and I need to ask for leave from work."

“I’ll figure out how to get leave,” Yang Guangming said. “I know the leaders at the grain company, so putting in a good word shouldn’t be a problem. The key is you, Dad, do you want to go?”

Yang Huai-ren did not answer immediately.

He had complicated feelings towards his stepmother. He had suffered a lot of coldness and mistreatment from her when he was a child, and he was even more heartbroken when they separated from the family.

But after all, they had called her "Mother" for decades, and they were family. Now that she's gone, it would be unreasonable and unethical for the eldest son not to see her off on her final journey.

"I'll go," Yang Huai-ren finally said. "No matter what, she is my mother in name only, and Huai-yi and Huai-li are my younger brothers. I should still fulfill the proper etiquette."

Yang Hanzhang then spoke up: "Huai Ren, you might as well go. Light incense for her for me and tell her that this old man won't be seeing her off."

The old man's voice was a little hoarse, and his eyes were slightly red, but he held back his tears.

“Dad, don’t be too sad,” Yang Huai-ren comforted him. “You’re getting old and can’t handle long journeys. I can go too.”

Chu Yuanjun also said, "Yes, Father, you should rest well at home. Huai Ren will go on behalf of our whole family."

Yang Hanzhang nodded without saying anything more. He picked up the teacup, but his hand was a little unsteady, and the tea spilled out.

Yang Guangming took the teacup, placed it on the table, and held his grandfather's hand. Those hands, covered in age spots, were cold and trembling slightly.

“Grandpa, Grandma passed away peacefully without suffering too much; that’s a blessing,” he said softly. “Take care of yourself. Grandma will be at peace in heaven.”

Yang Hanzhang grasped his grandson's hand and nodded vigorously.

The matter was settled.

Yang Huai-ren went to Shanghai for the funeral. But there was still a problem—should he inform his aunt, Yang Hui-fang? Should he go with her?

Yang Huifang was the old lady's youngest daughter, who married into the Mentougou coal mine. Although they didn't see each other often, it was only right for the daughter to attend her mother's passing.

“We need to tell Huifang,” Yang Hanzhang said. “After all, she is her own mother. Whether she goes or not, let her decide for herself.”

“Then I’ll go to Mentougou,” Yang Guangming said. “This is important, I must tell her as soon as possible, and buy the train tickets while I’m at it.”

"Thank you for your hard work, Guangming." Yang Huai-ren patted his son on the shoulder.

"It should."

The family began discussing the specific arrangements. Yang Huai-ren packed simple luggage, Chu Yuan-jun prepared dry rations for the journey, and Yang Guang-ming prepared to set off immediately.

When Jingwan returned from her studies and learned the news, she was stunned.

She didn't have a deep impression of this grandmother. She only remembered that when she was a child, she would go to the tenement building and her grandmother would always save the best food for her second and third uncles' children, and she wasn't very affectionate towards her and Jingyi. Later, her grandmother went to Shanghai and she never saw her again.

But death itself is a heavy burden. Looking at the solemn expressions on her grandfather's and father's faces, Jingwan also felt that sorrow.

"Dad, be careful on your way home and come back soon," she said softly.

"Okay, study hard at home and listen to your mother and brother," Yang Huai-ren instructed.

To get from the courtyard house to Mentougou, you first need to take a bus, then transfer to a long-distance bus. The journey is bumpy and takes more than an hour.

Yang Guangming bought two pounds of peach shortbread from a roadside vendor, wrapped it in oil paper, and put it in a mesh bag.

When delivering news of a death, one should not arrive empty-handed, but one should not bring anything too valuable either. Two pounds of pastries would express one's feelings without seeming pretentious.

The bus was old and rattled as it drove, and the carriage was packed with people. Yang Guangming found a seat by the window and stood there, watching the street scene flash by outside.

Three years of construction brought about significant changes in Beiping. Dilapidated houses were repaired, muddy roads were paved with asphalt, and more shops lined the streets. Although resources were still scarce, a vibrant atmosphere of life was palpable.

When the bus arrived at the station, I transferred to a long-distance bus bound for Mentougou.

This road was much bumpier. As the car left the city, the road turned into a dirt road, kicking up clouds of dust. The scenery on both sides changed from city buildings to farmland, villages, and then to rolling hills.

Mentougou is a coal-producing area, and along the way you can see coal trucks and horse-drawn carts, as well as workers in overalls with faces covered in coal dust. The air is filled with a faint smell of coal smoke.

The bus stopped at the terminal station at around 4 p.m.

Yang Guangming got off the bus carrying his things and walked towards the miners' family area, following the route he remembered.

The buildings here are different from those in the city; most are single-story houses made of red bricks, arranged in neat rows. The houses aren't large, but each family has a small yard where they can grow vegetables and raise chickens. On the street, you mostly see women and children; the men are still working in the mines at this time of day.

After walking for more than ten minutes, we arrived at a row of houses. The third house was the home of Xiao Guyang Huifang.

The courtyard gate was ajar, and Yang Guangming knocked on it.

"Who is it?" a woman's voice came from inside.

The door opened, and a woman in her thirties, slightly plump, poked her head out. She was wearing a blue cotton jacket with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and her hands were still covered in flour, so she was obviously cooking.

Upon seeing Yang Guangming, she paused for a moment, then recognized him: "Oh, it's Guangming! Come in, come in!"

This is Aunt Wang, my aunt's neighbor. The two families have a good relationship and often look after each other, and visiting each other is a common occurrence.

"Aunt Wang, is my aunt home?" Yang Guangming asked.

"Here I am! Huifang! Huifang! Look who's here!" Aunt Wang called into the house.

Soon, a woman wearing a gray Lenin suit and with short, ear-length hair came out of the house. It was Yang Huifang.

Yang Huifang is fifteen years older than Yang Guangming, and is thirty-five this year. She inherited the Yang family's delicate features, but years of living in the mining area have left her skin somewhat rough, and her hands have calluses. Seeing her nephew, a delighted smile appeared on her face.

"Guangming? What brings you here? Come in quickly!" she greeted him, then said to Aunt Wang, "Thank you, Sister Wang."

"No need to thank me, you two are talking, I'll go back now." Aunt Wang waved her hand and went home.

Yang Guangming followed his aunt into the house.

The house wasn't big, but it was clean and tidy. The outer room served as both kitchen and dining room, while the inner room was the bedroom. Several New Year pictures and certificates of merit were pasted on the walls, and a few potted plants sat on the windowsill, giving it a lively and homey feel.

"Sit down, sit down quickly." Yang Huifang pulled over a chair and busied herself pouring water. "You silly child, you didn't even tell me you were coming. Have you eaten yet? I was just about to knead some dough, shall I make you a bowl of noodles?"

"Auntie, don't bother, I'm not hungry." Yang Guangming placed the snacks on the table. "I bought some things on the way, please keep them for yourself."

"Look at you, coming all this way and bringing things," Yang Huifang said reproachfully, but her face was full of joy. "You've come all this way, there must be something wrong, right? Is your grandfather unwell?"

Her first thought was of her elderly father. After all, he was over sixty years old. Yang Guangming shook his head, his expression turning serious: "Aunt, I've come to tell you some bad news."

Yang Huifang's smile froze, and her hand unconsciously tightened its grip on the teacup: "What news?"

"I just received a telegram from my second uncle in Shanghai this afternoon." Yang Guangming tried to keep his voice steady. "Grandma... passed away yesterday."

pat.

The teacup slipped from Yang Huifang's hand, fell to the ground, and shattered. Tea spilled all over the floor.

But she was completely oblivious, just staring blankly at her nephew, her lips trembling, unable to utter a word for a long time.

"Little Aunt," Yang Guangming called softly.

Yang Huifang finally came to her senses, and tears welled up instantly. She turned around abruptly, covered her face with her hands, and her shoulders trembled violently.

Suppressed sobs leaked from between her fingers, filled with sorrow and despair.

Yang Guangming didn't try to persuade him; he just watched silently. He knew that at this moment, any words would be futile. Only the person who lost their mother could truly understand the pain.

After a while, Yang Huifang's crying gradually subsided. She wiped her face haphazardly with the back of her hand, turned around, and her eyes were already red and swollen.

"When did you leave?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"The telegram said it was yesterday," Yang Guangming said. "The telegram said that the body would be laid to rest. My father planned to go to Shanghai for the funeral and asked me to ask you if you wanted to go with him?"

Yang Huifang burst into tears again, nodding vigorously, "I'll go, I'll go. I'm her daughter, how can I not go?"

As she spoke, she began to cry again: "Before the New Year, I received a letter from my second brother saying that Mother was seriously ill, so I wanted to go and see her. But the mine was busy, and I couldn't get leave. I thought I would go when it got warmer in the spring, but who would have thought... who would have thought this would happen?"

She wept uncontrollably, overwhelmed with regret and grief.

After waiting for her to calm down a bit, Yang Guangming said, "Aunt, don't be too sad. Grandma's health hasn't been good for the past few years, so her passing is a relief. The most important thing now is for you to take care of yourself and give her a proper send-off."

Yang Huifang nodded vigorously, wiped away her tears, and forced herself to stay strong: "You're right. I have to go see Mother off."

She suddenly remembered something: "When is your father leaving? Has he bought the train ticket?"

"I'm planning to leave tomorrow. I'll go buy the train ticket in a bit. The departure time should be around 10 a.m. tomorrow."

Yang Guangming continued, "If you decide to go, please arrive at the train station before 9:30 tomorrow morning to meet my father. I'll buy two tickets in a bit and give them to you when we meet tomorrow."

Yang Huifang's tears welled up again.

“Thank you, Guangming. You’ve thought of everything,” she said, her voice choked with emotion.

"Of course," Yang Guangming said. "Aunt, please pack your luggage. Don't bring too much; it'll be easier on the road. Your second and third uncles will arrange food and lodging in Shanghai."

"Yes, I know," Yang Huifang wiped her eyes, then suddenly remembered something, "By the way, have you eaten? I'll make you a bowl of noodles."

"Auntie, really, it's not necessary." Yang Guangming stood up. "I have to rush back to the city to buy a ticket. You take good care of yourself, see you at the train station tomorrow."

Yang Huifang then noticed the broken teacup and spilled tea on the floor and quickly said, "Look at me, I was so busy crying that I made a mess of the floor."

"It's alright, I'll clean it up." Yang Guangming found a broom and dustpan, swept up the debris, and then mopped the floor.

Yang Huifang felt a surge of warmth in her heart as she watched his nimble movements. This nephew of hers had been sensible since childhood, and now he was even more composed and capable, arranging everything perfectly.

"Light," she murmured, her eyes filled with complex emotions, "You're better than your aunt."

After finishing tidying up, Yang Guangming straightened up and said, "Auntie, I'll be going now. Don't be late tomorrow, and be careful on the road."

"Okay, okay," Yang Huifang saw him to the courtyard gate, hesitated for a moment, and asked, "How is your grandfather?"

“Grandpa is alright, just a little sad,” Yang Guangming said truthfully. “He’s getting old and it’s not convenient for him to travel long distances, so he asked my dad to go in his place.”

Yang Huifang nodded, her eyes reddening again: "Dad...he must be very sad. You and sister-in-law should take good care of him."

"do not worry."

Yang Guangming said goodbye and left. As he walked out of the residential area, he looked back and saw his aunt still standing at the gate, watching him go, her figure thin and sad.

On the way back to the city, Yang Guangming felt somewhat heavy-hearted.

Separation from loved ones and death are unavoidable themes in life. Even after experiencing three lifetimes and becoming indifferent to many things, the passing of a loved one, even if not a close one, still leaves a lingering sadness and sense of loss in the heart.

Grandma had her limitations and biases in her life, but ultimately she was a product of this era and this environment. Now that she's gone, all the grudges and disputes have faded away with the wind.

I only hope that those who are alive can live well and cherish the present.

The car bumped its way back into the city, the scenery outside the window changing from mountains to farmland, and then back to city buildings.

Yang Ming closed his eyes, rested for a moment, and before he knew it, he had arrived at the train station.

In May, the square of the train station in Beiping was bustling with people. Vendors carrying loads, passengers with luggage, and police officers maintaining order created a busy scene.

There was a queue in the ticket hall. Yang Guangming waited in line for more than half an hour before it was his turn to go to the window.

"Two train tickets to Shanghai, for tomorrow morning, hard seats." He handed over his work ID and the money.

The ticket seller glanced at his work ID and became more polite: "Sir, there's one train at 10:20 AM and another at 4:50 PM tomorrow. Which one would you like?"

“In the morning,” Yang Guangming said.

The ticket seller bent down to issue the tickets and quickly handed out two cardboard tickets and change.

"Thank you." Yang Guangming took the ticket and looked at it carefully.

With the ticket in hand, I felt half relieved.

When Yang Guangming returned home, Yang Huairen was packing his luggage, and Chu Yuanjun was making pancakes in the kitchen—dry food for her husband to eat on the road.

"Did you see your aunt?" Yang Huai-ren asked.

"I saw her." Yang Guangming nodded. "My aunt was crying very sadly and said she would definitely go. We'll meet at the train station tomorrow."

"That's good." Yang Huai-ren sighed. "Hui-fang is my youngest child, and we have a deep bond. With her going, I can leave in peace."

Chu Yuanjun came out of the kitchen, carrying freshly baked pancakes that smelled delicious.

"Dad, how's the packing going?"

"That's about it." Yang Huai-ren pointed to a small bundle on the kang (a heated brick bed). "Just a few changes of clothes, some dry food, and 500,000 yuan. Travel light."

Yang Guangming thought for a moment, then took a small cloth bag out of his pocket: "Dad, this contains anti-inflammatory drugs, painkillers, and stomach medicine. Take this with you, in case you feel unwell on the road. And this..."

He then took out a small tin box, saying, "It's cooling balm, refreshing and helps prevent motion sickness."

Yang Huai-ren took it, feeling a warm glow in his heart: "You're such a thoughtful child."

"Of course," Yang Guangming said. "It's humid in Shanghai, so please be careful not to catch a cold. If anything happens, just send a telegram home. Also, please remember my work phone number; you can call me in case of an emergency."

Yang Huai-ren agreed to everything, feeling both gratified and moved as he looked at his son's calm and thoughtful arrangements. Unbeknownst to him, his son had become the backbone of the family, handling everything perfectly.

It was already dark, but the lights were on in the main room, and the whole family was there.

"Grandpa," Yang Guangming called softly as he walked over.

Yang Hanzhang snapped out of his daze, looked at him, and forced a smile: "You're back?"

Yang Hanzhang was silent for a while, then suddenly asked, "Guangming, do you think your grandmother was in pain when she passed away?"

"Grandpa, don't think too much about it," Yang Guangming gently comforted him. "Grandma has her own destiny, and you have your own life. Now that our family is doing well, Grandma will be pleased if she is watching from heaven."

Yang Hanzhang nodded vigorously and patted his grandson's hand: "You're right. Those who are alive should live well."

Even so, the light in the old man's room stayed on very late that night.

The next morning, the family got up early.

Lord Chu Yuan prepared a sumptuous breakfast—millet porridge, steamed buns, salted duck eggs, and reheated pancakes from yesterday. Everyone sat together, the atmosphere somewhat silent.

After finishing their meal, Yang Guangming and Yang Huairen prepared to set off.

"Father, be careful on the road," Jingwan said softly.

"You must come back soon," Jingyi said expectantly.

Yang Huai-ren patted his two daughters' heads: "Yes, be good at home and study hard."

Chu Yuanjun's eyes were slightly red: "When we get to Shanghai, please kowtow to my mother for me."

"Yes, I know." Yang Huai-ren nodded.

Yang Hanzhang saw his son off at the gate of the courtyard. He looked at his son, his lips moved, but in the end he only said one sentence: "Go, and come back soon."

"Father, please take care of yourself." Yang Huai-ren gave his father a deep look, then turned and walked out of the alley with his son.

The streets were still quiet in the early morning. Father and son walked side by side, Yang Guangming carrying his father's bundle.

"Guangming, I'm leaving the family to you," Yang Huai-ren said. "Your grandfather is getting old and is in a bad mood, so please try to comfort him. Although your mother and grandmother didn't get along very well, she's also heartbroken now that she's passed away, so please spend more time talking to her. Jingwan is taking the high school entrance exam, and she's under a lot of pressure, so please encourage her."

He confessed a great deal in one breath.

Yang Guangming listened patiently and agreed to each request: "Dad, don't worry. I'll take care of things at home. Please be careful on your journey. When you get to Shanghai, please also tell your second and third uncles to accept this difficult time."

"Ah."

The two walked to the bus stop, and while waiting for the bus, Yang Huai-ren suddenly said, "Guangming, now that your grandmother is gone, I've been thinking... what's the most important thing in life?"

Yang Guangming looked at his father, waiting for him to continue.

“Before, I thought it was money, food, and survival,” Yang Huai-ren said slowly. “Later, I thought it was family harmony and my children’s success. Now I think it’s about cherishing the people in front of me.”

He turned to look at his son, his eyes filled with deep emotion: "Your grandmother and I weren't exactly a great mother and son, but we were family after all. Now that she's gone, I realize that all those grudges and resentments are meaningless. When someone is gone, everything is gone."

Yang Guangming nodded: "Dad, you're right. So our family should cherish every day we spend together."

"Yes." Yang Huai-ren let out a long sigh.

The bus has arrived.

The father and son boarded the bus and sat in the last row. The bus swayed and bumped as it drove towards Qianmen Railway Station.

At 9:15, they arrived at the train station.

There were already many people in the square. Yang Guangming, with his sharp eyes, spotted his young aunt Yang Huifang standing at the entrance.

She was wearing a dark blue Lenin suit, her hair neatly combed, but her eyes were red and swollen, her face haggard, and she was carrying a small cloth bag. Seeing her brother and nephew, she hurried over.

"Big brother." Her voice choked up as she spoke.

Yang Huai-ren patted his sister's shoulder: "Hui-fang, please accept my condolences. We are going to send our mother off on her final journey. Be strong."

Yang Huifang nodded vigorously and wiped away her tears.

Yang Guangming checked the time: 9:30. There were still fifty minutes before departure.

"Dad, Aunt, let's go into the station," he said.

The three entered the waiting room. It was bustling with noise, and the benches were full of passengers.

Yang Guangming found two relatively quiet seats for his father and aunt to sit down, and then went to get them two cups of hot water.

"Guangming, you sit down too," Yang Huai-ren said.

"No, I'll just stand here for a bit," Yang Guangming said. "Dad, Aunt, be careful on the road. Contact me anytime if anything happens."

Time passed by minute by minute.

At 9:50, ticket checking and entry to the station began.

Yang Guangming escorted his father and aunt to the ticket gate and handed them the bundle.

"Dad, Aunt, have a safe journey."

Yang Huai-ren nodded, squeezed his son's hand tightly, and turned to enter the ticket gate.

Yang Huifang, her eyes also red, waved to her nephew and followed her brother inside.

Yang Guangming stood outside the railing, watching their figures disappear into the crowd.

As Yang Guangming stepped out of the train station, the bright May sunshine shone down on him.

The square was bustling with people, the cries of vendors, the conversations of travelers, and the honking of vehicle horns all blending together in a busy and noisy atmosphere.

Yang Guangming took a deep breath and walked towards the bus stop.

Life continues.

There are partings and reunions; there is sorrow and hope.

What he needs to do is protect this family and everyone he loves.

This is his responsibility, and also his happiness. (End of Chapter)