North Family Letters

It's already the fourth Qingming Festival since my father passed away.

The first year was filled with overwhelming grief, the second with a sense of loss, the third with a return to peace, and in the fourth year, the six sisters walked together to the cemetery again, their steps filled with more stability and tacit understanding. No matter how busy they are, no matter where they are, on this day, none of them will be absent.

As soon as it was light, the six sisters had already gathered at the old house.

The eldest sister, Song Chunyan, remained calm and composed, carrying the cooked millet porridge, neatly folded paper money, and the old clothes that her father used to wear most often.

Second sister Song Xiahe held a bunch of simple daisies and the old palm-leaf fan with embroidery, which she would bring every year and gently place in front of the grave.

The third sister, Song Qiuling, carried a food box containing several side dishes that her father liked to eat. The porridge was simmered slowly over a low flame, and the taste became more and more to her father's liking each year.

Fourth Sister Song Dongxue brought cleaning tools and carefully wiped the tombstone and removed weeds, never being careless;

Fifth sister Song Xiaoman and sixth sister Song Xiaoya have long since grown into sensible girls, holding snacks and candies in their hands, following quietly behind their older sisters, no longer the little girls who used to chase after their father.

The six sisters walked along, just like they had for the past four years, chatting about everyday things and catching up on each other's lives. There was no heart-wrenching emotion, only a lingering longing. The wind rustled through the roadside grass, as if their father were quietly listening beside them.

Upon arriving at the grave, the eldest sister arranged the offerings, and the others took turns offering their greetings softly.

"Dad, it's been four years now. We're all doing well. The sisters have been looking out for each other and haven't caused you any worry."

"The old house has always been looked after, and the flowers in the yard bloom every year."

"Don't worry, the six of us will always be a family."

Wisps of smoke rose, and the flames flickered gently.

After the memorial service concluded, the eldest sister took a deep breath and spoke slowly to the tombstone, her voice solemn yet gentle:

"Dad, there's another important matter today. My six sisters and I have discussed it for a long time and decided to do it today."

My mother passed away early, and I've been all alone for so many years; it must have been so lonely.

Today, we're bringing Mom here so you can be buried with her. From now on, you two can keep each other company over there, taking care of one another, never to be separated again.

The second, third, and fourth sisters' eyes reddened, and they all nodded.

Xiaoman and Xiaoya stood beside their older sisters, their hearts filled with a bittersweet warmth—this was something they had longed for since childhood, for their parents to finally be reunited.

The six sisters worked together to carefully bury their mother's ashes next to their father and erected a joint tombstone.

From then on, one tomb had two names, separated by life and death for half a lifetime, finally reunited in the dust.

The eldest sister gently brushed away the dust from the tombstone:

"Dad, Mom, don't worry, the six of us will be fine, support each other, live a good life, and live up to your lifelong love and care."

The wind swept across the grass on the grave, carrying a faint fragrance of flowers.

The six sisters stood side by side in front of the joint burial tomb, no longer the panicked and helpless family they once were.

They have grown into each other's support and become the most stable legacy of this family. I continued the story after the parents' joint burial, maintaining the gentle and restrained writing style of before, focusing on the six sisters' state of mind after the memorial service and their daily lives after returning home, weaving the bonds of family and their longing for their parents into the minutiae of everyday life, and advancing the story in accordance with the characters' settings.

Returning to Dust: Seasonal Sacrifices and Joint Burial (Continued)

The joint burial was completed meticulously. The six sisters stood side by side before the newly erected joint tombstone, their parents' names inscribed close together, each stroke carrying the long-cherished wish of the six sisters. Their mother passed away early, when Xiaoman and Xiaoya were still innocent children. Their memories of their mother were mostly of her gentle appearance as described by their sisters, of her fingertips mending clothes, and of the warm aroma wafting from the porridge they cooked. Their father had accompanied them through even longer years, supporting the entire family with his rough hands. Now, the two were finally together in the dust, no longer alone.

A gentle breeze swept by, carrying away the ashes of the burnt paper money and softening the tears welling in the sisters' eyes. There was no wailing, only a long-suppressed sense of relief slowly spreading through their hearts. The eldest sister raised a hand to wipe her eyes, her voice still as steady as ever, yet carrying a barely perceptible tenderness: "Dad, Mom, now you two are together. Don't worry about us anymore. Live your own lives well, and don't spend your lives worrying about your children like you did in this one."

The second sister, Song Xiahe, gently placed the old palm-leaf fan embroidered with daisies on the bluestone beside the tombstone. This fan had been with their father for many years, and now it was with him, their mother, and the memories of the six sisters. "Mom, you always loved us when you were alive, and Dad devoted his whole life to the family. Now that you are together and taking care of each other, we can finally rest easy," she said softly. She recalled the scene of her mother holding her and humming lullabies when she was little, and her lips curled up slightly, but her eyes were filled with tears.

The third sister, Song Qiuling, added half a bowl of millet porridge to the food box and placed it in front of the tombstone. It was the thick porridge that her parents loved to drink, cooked until soft, sticky, and sweet—a taste she had perfected through countless practice sessions following her father's recipe. "Dad, Mom, the taste of home is always there. The fire in the old house has never gone out. No matter how far we six sisters go, our hearts are always connected. We will return to the old house for holidays and festivals and visit you often."

Fourth sister Song Dongxue silently cleared the weeds from the grave mound and wiped the tombstone until it shone with a clean cloth. She was never good with words, but always expressed her feelings through the most delicate actions. Over the years, she had helped her eldest sister with household chores and learned to take care of her sisters. She had long since shed her youthful impetuosity and become a reliable helper in the family. At this moment, she just stood quietly, looking at her parents' names, silently murmuring her concerns.

Xiaoman and Xiaoya stood behind their older sisters, holding hands tightly. They were the youngest of the siblings, pampered by their sisters and father since childhood. Now, they had grown into beautiful young women, understanding the pain of separation and the preciousness of their sibling bond. They gently placed the milk candies they had brought before the tombstone—candies their father often bought for them when they were little, and sweet treats their mother would sometimes keep in her pocket for them. "Dad, Mom, we've grown up. We'll help our sisters with the housework, and we'll live a good life. The six of us will never be apart; we'll always be a family," Xiaoya said softly, her voice gentle yet resolute. Xiaoman nodded beside her, her eyes full of earnestness.

The six sisters stood quietly for a while, listening to the sound of the wind passing through the woods, as if their parents were gently responding to their words. Only when the sun gradually rose higher did the eldest sister speak: "Let's go back to the old house, and like always, cook a simple home-cooked meal, as if Mom and Dad were still here, and the family is reunited."

The return journey was smoother than the way there. The six sisters walked side by side, their steps lighter, their worries finally at ease, and a sense of fulfillment added to their feeling. They chatted about their lives along the way. The eldest sister mentioned that the flowers and plants in the old house's yard had sprouted new buds, the third sister talked about the new dishes she had recently learned, the fourth sister recounted amusing anecdotes about the neighbors, and Xiaoman and Xiaoya chatted about small things at work and school. Amidst their laughter and conversation, the sadness of the memorial service had completely vanished, leaving only the unique warmth of family.

Back in the old house, pushing open the door, the familiar warmth of home filled the air. The sunflowers planted by Father and the roses planted by Mother were in full bloom in the yard, and the old palm-leaf fan under the eaves swayed gently in the breeze. Everything was just as it had been when our parents were alive. The sisters tacitly divided the tasks and busied themselves. The eldest sister kneaded the dough to prepare steamed white flour buns, which were the parents' favorite; the third sister picked and washed the vegetables to cook a pot of hot millet porridge and stir-fry some home-style dishes; the fourth sister tended the fire, and the flames crackled in the stove, warming the entire kitchen; Xiahe cleaned the house, tidying up our parents' room and making sure the bedding was laid out neatly; Xiaoman and Xiaoya watered the flowers and tidied up the yard, occasionally playfully teasing each other, their laughter filling the old house.

The food was laid out on the table, with two seats reserved as before, two sets of bowls and chopsticks placed there, filled with food and warm water, as if the parents were still sitting there, waiting for their six daughters to sit around and eat. At the table, the usual restraint had vanished. The sisters chatted about childhood anecdotes, recounting how gentle and caring their mother was, how strict yet loving their father was, and how mischievous they used to be, fighting over candy and clothes. As they talked, some laughed, some teared up, but their hearts were filled with warmth.

Xiaoman recalled how, when she was little and sick, her father carried her for miles to see a doctor, while her mother stayed by her side all night, feeding her water and medicine. Xiaoya remembered how her sisters always gave way to her, saving the best food for her first, and how their father always said, "Six sisters, you must be of one mind and help each other for life." Now, they keep their father's words in their hearts, and their mother's gentleness is etched into their very bones. Although their parents have returned to dust, their love has long since transformed into an unbreakable bond between the six sisters, becoming their lifelong strength.

As the sun set, its afterglow bathed the courtyard of the old house and the six sisters. Xia He picked up the palm-leaf fan she had just brought back from the cemetery and gently fanned herself. The breeze carried the aroma of food and flowers, as well as the love and concern of their parents. The eldest sister looked at her five younger sisters beside her, her eyes filled with relief. In the four years since their father's passing, and now with their parents buried together, they had gone from initial grief and helplessness to mutual support. There had been no more arguments, no more estrangement; they had always held each other tightly, guarding their home and the memories their parents had left behind.

"From now on, let's still go back to the old house often and visit Mom and Dad. No matter how life is, we six sisters will always be the closest of family," the eldest sister said to her younger sisters as she picked up the warm water from the table.

"Yes, we'll always be family," the five younger sisters replied in unison, their eyes filled with determination.

Parents may have passed away, but their love lives on. The concerns hidden in the years, the warmth in the everyday life, and the support between siblings will accompany the six sisters through the years to come. The smoke from the old house will never go out, their affection will never fade, and their parents' love will forever reside in their hearts, accompanying them through storms and welcoming the dawn of each new year, ensuring a peaceful and lifelong companionship.