The Nightmare Experience of a Useless Person

"Are you in such a hurry to leave? You've really been working hard these past few days. Why don't you rest at home for a few days?" Aunt Dong said, looking troubled.

"No, I came in a hurry and didn't even collect the clothes in the yard. They're probably going to smell. Besides, after a couple of days of rest, I should go back to work at the umbrella shop." Jiang Zhiyang declined, secretly leaning half of his body on Qingjun.

He seems a bit off.

"Good, good, you've grown up and have your own ideas."

Aunt Dong fell silent, but after Qingjun boarded the carriage, she pulled Jiang Zhiyang aside and whispered, "Zhiyang, you're a man, and there are some things I need to tell you. You and Qingjun are together now, aren't you?"

Seeing Aunt Dong's expression, Jiang Zhiyang realized that being together meant consummating their marriage. Feeling guilty, he looked away and nodded shyly.

"You're all adults now, there's no need to hide this kind of thing. But Qingjun looks like she's from a wealthy family. She's willing to follow you like this, so you can't be so ambiguous with her."

As she spoke, Aunt Dong became somewhat anxious, and her voice rose uncontrollably.

"Old Chiang and I regard you as our own son, but in the end, we are not related by blood. Therefore, you do not need to observe mourning for Old Chiang. Of course, this is for the sake of Qingjun. You should hurry up with the marriage proposal and the exchange of gifts. It would be bad for her if she got pregnant before marriage."

Jiang Zhiyang naturally wanted to propose marriage and exchange betrothal gifts, but did he really deserve it? His mind was a mess, a jumble of thoughts.

"Alright, let's go. If you ever have any questions, come back to me, Aunt Dong will take care of it for you!"

Aunt Dong patted his shoulder gently, but firmly.

"Okay, Aunt Dong, Brother Shuo, take care!"

Jiang Zhiyang boarded the carriage, but felt extremely uneasy. As the horse moved forward, he quietly turned his head to look at the two people at the door.

They were still standing there, and in a fleeting moment of eye contact, they waved goodbye.

Jiang Zhiyang couldn't describe the feelings in his heart. He felt reluctant and guilty. He shouldn't have abandoned his family at this time. He should have stayed and worked with Jiang Shuo to support the family. But he couldn't. He still had his own path to walk.

"What are Aunt Dong whispering with you about?" Qingjun emerged from the veil, looking quite well.

"No, they just told us to come home and visit often." Jiang Zhiyang handed over the reins, gesturing for Qingjun to sit beside him.

Jiang Zhiyang was too tired. The scenery in front of him was spinning, making him even more dizzy. He touched Qingjun's hand and realized that his own body was also terribly cold.

"What's wrong with you? You look really bad. Do you have a fever again?" Qingjun raised her hand to touch Jiang Zhiyang's face, but he gently avoided her.

"It's nothing, I'm just tired. I'll go home and get some sleep, and I'll be refreshed tomorrow. It's just that I've troubled you to drive, Qingjun..."

His cheek rested gently on Qingjun's shoulder, his mouth babbling incoherently, and soon he fell silent.

Qingjun's shoulders were warm and soft, and as he swayed, they caught him steadily, supporting him in a dream that was both ethereal and tender. In the dream, his mother was rocking the small bamboo bed, humming a song, telling him to sleep peacefully.

……

When they opened their eyes again, they were back in the bamboo grove courtyard. The scene before them was dim and yellow, as if spring had melted away, and a layer of warm light had appeared.

"You're awake?" Qingjun's gentle greeting, tinged with a soft breath, tickled the downy hairs around Jiang Zhiyang's ear. "Feeling better?"

His heartbeat was calm and his vision was clear, so he should be feeling well. But just as Jiang Zhiyang straightened up, the dizziness came over him again, almost making him fall off the carriage.

"It's alright now." Jiang Zhiyang forced a smile and put on a relaxed expression, but he still secretly put his arm around Qingjun for support while walking.

Qingjun simply assumed he was tired and cuddly, so she let him keep going without suspecting anything.

"What a waste of this fabric."

He left in a hurry and didn't care about the fabric in the yard. It got wet from the rain, became damp, and was covered with sand and dry branches. When Jiang Zhiyang reached out to pick it up, he realized that even the color had faded quite a bit.

He's just wasting his time with all this. People are going to leave anyway, and families are going to fall apart. What kind of one-man show is he trying to put on by repeatedly making these fuss?

Sadness, mixed with illness, rose up, and Jiang Zhiyang wanted to cry again, but unfortunately, he had already cried all his tears, and his eyes were so dry and painful.

Sometimes, Qingjun was truly afraid of Jiang Zhiyang, afraid of his sentimentality and his melancholy, but he couldn't find any way to deal with it, so he could only rub his waist to comfort him.

"Tomorrow, I'll buy you some better quality fabric."

He turned his head, his eyes showing some confusion, but even more surprise.

"The more expensive, the redder, the kind embroidered with subtle patterns and jewels." But Qingjun also liked Jiang Zhiyang's childlike moments, so she found many nice words to coax him.

Jiang Zhiyang was very happy and seemed to be in better spirits. "Then, when the weather is better in a few days, I'll take these to the stream to wash them up and use them to decorate the house."

"Okay." Qingjun nodded indulgently; she seemed to have taken a liking to this pretend game.

There weren't many rooms in the bamboo grove courtyard, and it was always inconvenient to live in separate rooms, so Qingjun took out her old bedding and made a makeshift bed on the floor next to the bed.

"You sleep on the bed, I'll sleep on the floor." Jiang Zhiyang blinked and tried to open his eyelids.

"Your illness wasn't fully recovered before, and you've been overworking yourself these past few days. You should rest well and not argue with me about this."

Qingjun blew out the candle, and the small house was completely plunged into the night. The person on the bed was indeed no longer moving.

In the past, Jiang Zhiyang would always find a topic to chat about or deliberately tease her, but tonight he fell asleep very quickly and there was no sound of breathing. It seems that he was in a deep sleep.

In fact, Qingjun had overheard the entire conversation between Aunt Dong and Jiang Zhiyang during the day. Even if it was an elder's request, how could someone like Jiang Zhiyang not observe mourning for Old Jiang?

Sleeping on straw mats and using simple meals, forbidden from marriage and sexual relations, three years—three years is but a fleeting moment for the gods, but for Qingjun, it seems an endless wait.

Can this ordinary couple still manage to do it?

Counting the days, Qingjun should have left long ago. Especially these past two days, she has been feeling uneasy, as if some major event is waiting for her.

"Can I hug you?"

The one who spoke softly and leisurely was Jiang Zhiyang.

"No, you can't." Qingjun tucked the blanket in.

"..."

The person stopped moving.

"...I'm hungry...I'll eat wontons."

"Aren't you asleep yet? Are you hungry?" Qingjun sat up, but Jiang Zhiyang remained silent.

What's wrong? Is it delirium? Qingjun dared not fall asleep, nor did she want to disturb him, so she just sat quietly.

"Mother, Qingjun, don't go! I...I'm so scared..." Jiang Zhiyang started talking nonsense again, his words filled with fear, babbling as if he was about to cry.

Qingjun hurriedly lit a candle to check on Jiang Zhiyang's condition, but as soon as she got close, she noticed that his expression was off.

"Zhiyang! Zhiyang!" Qingjun panicked and shouted with all her might, but he did not respond.

Qingjun lowered his head to touch Jiang Zhiyang's forehead, but was startled by his temperature. It was hot, scalding, as if a furnace was burning and boiling water was splashing around.

What should I do? What should I do? Should I decoct some medicine? But will that even work? I should go see a doctor. Yes, I need to go back to the city and see a doctor.

But she forgot that the city gates were already closed. At this hour, she could neither enter the city nor find a doctor.

As Qingjun gazed at the tightly closed city gate, a sense of despair arose within him. Even the omnipotent gods, without their spiritual power, found themselves obstructed by earth, stone, and mud.

Qingjun pulled her arms closer, as if embracing a ball of fire. She lowered her head and rested her head on Jiang Zhiyang's neck. She dared not look at the man's pale lips, but she could not ignore the trembling of his whole body.

"Zhiyang, hang in there a little longer, I'll take you back to Leshantang! Aunt Dong, Brother Shuo, there must be a way!"