The Nightmare Experience of a Useless Person

Where did these lotus seeds come from? Qingjun stared blankly at Xiulian's face, but received a slightly tired smile in return.

It's fake; Xiulian Guan is good at making up stories.

Life is finite. From the ephemeral mushroom and the cicada to the great tree of the underworld, a hundred years for an ordinary person is but a fleeting moment. Once it is gone, it is gone forever. In the instant of death, all causes and effects vanish like wisps of smoke.

He will become a new life, born as someone else's child. He will have his own home, his own family, working from sunrise to sunset. But the road home will not lead to Lok Sin Tong.

What should I do? Where should I direct my concern and gratitude for him? Qingjun reached out, wanting to grasp something, only to find that her hands were empty.

Her head was spinning and her vision was blurry. She tried to focus and finally saw clearly through her fingers: Xiulian, Xiaotao, Ali, Xuanxuan, Aunt Dong, Jiang Shuo... people, trees, cats and dogs, all the myriad things in life, all the myriad phenomena of the world.

It's Jiang Zhiyang...

They, all of them, will pass away.

There is nowhere to go for our longing for them.

Qingjun had known all along, yet it seemed as if she only truly understood at this moment. Helpless, she staggered two steps and fell into a firm embrace.

It was warm. Qingjun pulled her arms close, letting the familiar scent enter her body and soothe her pounding heart.

"Are you alright? Are you too tired?" A soft greeting fell on her ear. It felt so good. Qingjun looked up and nuzzled her cheek against Jiang Zhiyang's neck.

It felt unusually hot; was she too cold? Qingjun wanted to press closer, but Jiang Zhiyang dodged away. He held Qingjun's arms and glanced at her face with a fleeting look.

"I'm fine," Qingjun said, struggling to stand up straight. "I'm just... a little homesick."

Missing home? Yes, at this moment, Qingjun misses A-Wu, A-Liu, and the flowers and plants of the Divine Realm. Because she understands that nothing is eternal, she is especially worried about their disappearance. Only by seeing them can she feel at ease. So she said, "I miss home."

Homesick? No, which home is she thinking of? Lok Shan Tong? Aren't they home? The Bamboo Grove Courtyard? Is that place already home to her? Could it be that she misses the home with her father, mother, and immense wealth?

Jiang Zhiyang felt a little guilty and instinctively hugged the person in his arms tighter. "Then... shall I go home with you?"

When the person in his arms didn't respond, Jiang Zhiyang panicked even more. He was already on the verge of tears, and if he asked another question, he was afraid he would burst into tears again.

"Let's go talk to Chiang Kai-shek again."

"it is good."

As long as you cover your eyes, you can pretend you can't see those bamboo shoots that have sprung into the house, until they grow wildly and break through the fragile roof, and then you can't avoid the wind, frost, rain and snow.

It's raining, and Jiang Zhiyang thinks that wind and snow will follow soon. What should he do? Pretend to be wronged and try to keep her, kneel down and beg her, or shamelessly imprison her.

Thinking of this, he subconsciously clenched his fist again. Her hand was warm, and through a thin layer of sweat, it seemed impossible to hold on to her. He moved his knuckles and rubbed her hand again and again, as if he wanted to knead her into his own body.

Isn't it said that the ten fingers are connected to the heart? Will this allow her to understand her own heart?

However, Qingjun did not pay attention to him. Her gaze swept over everyone, but she only casually patted his arm to comfort him.

Jiang Zhiyang obediently withdrew his hand and knelt upright, but his eyes turned cold. Now was not the time to think about these things. He looked up and saw the ray of light falling in front of Lao Jiang.

The dawn is pure. In a daze, Jiang Zhiyang seemed to see Old Jiang's appearance again. He would always shakily raise his upper body, grope around by the bedside with his eyes closed, and then shout and yell to make the naughty child return his cane.

But now, he no longer shouts or yells; he simply sits quietly in that beam of light, smiling kindly.

Jiang Zhiyang stared, mesmerized. He could see clearly Old Jiang's light eyebrows, long eyes, every deep wrinkle, and slightly yellowed teeth beneath his upturned lips.

He recalled the night when Chiang Kai-shek and the others talked, and Chiang Kai-shek said that he had found the answer.

Indeed, he found it, but soon, his answer would be gone...

He had finally felt like he had grown up, but now it was as if everything had turned back, and he was still that lost child.

"Old Chiang!" Jiang Zhiyang cried out in his heart, "Father! Teach me, what should I do? What should I do?"

Old Jiang neither asked nor answered, but simply smiled quietly, disappearing from Jiang Zhiyang's sight amidst his rising and falling breaths and blurred vision.

The light was empty.

My heart feels empty.

Old Jiang passed away, and Aunt Dong was overcome with grief. Jiang Zhiyang and Jiang Shuo became the heads of the household in this courtyard.

They didn't have much time to shed tears; most of the time, they could only choke back tears, rubbing their eyes dry with their sleeves, before busying themselves with preparing meals for relatives and friends, settling the mourners, and preparing various ritual items under the guidance of their elders.

This was something Chiang Kai-shek wouldn't have allowed.

But the crowd couldn't just bury such a good person so quietly. They dragged Jiang Zhiyang and Jiang Shuo to different corners of the courtyard, repeatedly instructing them to handle the funeral arrangements properly.

"Of course, of course."

They simply replied that during the day, with everyone's help, they were busy with various tasks, and only at night, after washing their faces and combing their hair, did they have time to go to Old Chiang's side to talk and wipe away their tears.

Everyone says that Chiang Kai-shek's two sons are quite good.

He also had a daughter-in-law, a young lady from a wealthy family. Although she was not good at manual labor, she was very filial and ordered the best cedar wood from the coffin shop for Chiang Kai-shek.

Most of the time, Ching-Chun just watched from the sidelines. If he couldn't really help, he would go and stay by Chiang Kai-shek's side.

These past few days, she has often been in a daze, occasionally feeling that everyone has gone home and is busy and lively, which is not bad, but Old Jiang is still lying in the front! Qingjun was startled back to reality by her own thoughts, and awkwardly lit incense for Old Jiang again.

Amidst the bustling crowd, Qingjun thought that Jiang Zhiyang stood out the most. Tall and sturdy, he had a gentle face but was capable of carrying heavy loads.

He worked closely with Jiang Shuo, running around to arrange Old Jiang's funeral very well.

Only they themselves knew that everything was just a forced undertaking, a struggle that left them physically exhausted and mentally confused. It wasn't until long after Chiang Kai-shek's burial that they slowly realized it was all over.

"It's too fast, it feels like there's no time for anything."

There was no time for sorrow, no time for tears, no time to pour out the myriad thoughts in my heart. So everything was left murky inside, a dark, gooey mess.

Qingjun supported Jiang Zhiyang's waist, hiding behind him, listening to him say goodbye to the guests at home. Then, taking advantage of a break, she tiptoed and whispered in his ear, "It's alright, I'll stay with Lao Jiang."

Jiang Zhiyang lowered his head and smiled faintly, accepting this consolation.