The Nightmare Experience of a Useless Person

"I'm so glad I studied medicine, so glad I came to Rongcheng with the late emperor that year, and so glad I resolutely chose to stay here." Old Jiang moved his body with difficulty and leaned gently on Aunt Dong's shoulder. "If I had taken one wrong step, I wouldn't have met you."

"That year, I was already in my thirties. I happened to run into a servant of the Dong family who was looking for a doctor, so I entered the Dong family to treat my father-in-law. At that time, you were only seventeen years old. You cried and made a fuss, insisting on marrying me. Your father-in-law, out of gratitude, reluctantly agreed to the marriage."

Old Jiang closed his eyes, lost in memories, a slightly bitter smile on his lips, as if he were still that young man who couldn't hold his head up in front of his father-in-law.

"Why are you saying this?" Aunt Dong asked with some disdain, but still raised her hand to stroke her husband's cheek.

"After we got married, I didn't give you a good life. I worked tirelessly every day, ruining your health. You couldn't conceive for many years," Old Jiang said, tilting his head, his eyes moist. "Fortunately, we had Shuo'er later. Mother and child are safe and sound. I, I, Jiang, am blessed..."

Old Jiang choked up deeply, unable to utter a single word. Aunt Dong could no longer control her emotions and nestled her arms tightly around her husband.

"Now, I am dying, while Shuang'er still has her black hair. You still have time, so don't waste any more time on me. Go and fulfill your own wishes."

"No way! Husband and wife are one. Your wish is my wish." Aunt Dong couldn't help but slap Old Jiang's arm, but the old man in her arms laughed.

"You loved cutting cloth and sewing clothes when you were young. Before you got married, all the dolls in the Dong family wore clothes you made. But now, with washing clothes and cooking, your hands are rough. I wonder if you can still hold a needle and thread!"

"You say Xiulian is a woman of great ambition, but I am not? Then I'm determined to make a name for myself and open my own clothing shop!" In front of Old Jiang, Aunt Dong always acted like a stubborn young girl, as if they had spent their years together in this way.

"Shuo'er," Old Jiang called softly. Jiang Shuo, who was already sobbing uncontrollably, immediately stepped forward and knelt down in front of the bed so that his father could put his hand on his shoulder.

"Shuo'er, I know you don't like studying medicine. From now on, you don't need to force yourself. Whether it's painting or music, whatever you like, just do it boldly."

Jiang Shuo hunched over, tears streaming down his face, unable to utter a single word, only nodding, letting his tears disappear into the darkness.

"Zhiyang, you come too."

Old Jiang raised his hand and pinched Jiang Zhiyang's cheek hard. "You brat! Don't keep things bottled up all the time. Your Aunt Dong and I truly treat you like a son. Remember this: at my funeral, you must perform the same rituals as Shuo'er, and you must also carry the funeral rope for me, understand?!"

Old Jiang had keen insight. Jiang Zhiyang's inferiority complex and sensitivity were always exposed in front of him. Rather than gentle guidance, Old Jiang's "lessons" for Jiang Zhiyang made him believe that he was also a family member under the same roof, rather than a bystander sitting far away in the yard.

"As for the rest," Old Jiang pushed away Jiang Zhiyang's affected embrace, gently patted his head, and spoke as tenderly as if to a child, "I think you've already found the answer."

A sour, astringent tide surged and overflowed into Qingjun's throat. Her tongue felt bitter, her teeth felt soft, and her mind went blank. She couldn't even remember how she got out of the door afterwards.

However, Qingjun noticed the hurried footsteps coming from the shadows. It must have been those naughty kids who weren't sleeping properly and were eavesdropping on the adults' private conversations outside the door.

Before Qingjun and Xiulian can catch up, the news will reach everyone's ears. Will they be sad? Will they make a scene? Will they cry and insist on staying here to keep this family together?

No, nothing at all. They simply lay quietly in their blankets, waiting for the person who had taken their place to return, so they could fall asleep together.

"Are you worried?" Qingjun stared blankly at the roof beam, but there was no candlelight, so all he could see was darkness.

"Don't worry." Xiulian took Qingjun's arm and gently massaged it. "They are a group of children who know how to love, cherish themselves, and are grateful. They will live well wherever they go."

"We will grow up well, become healthier, smarter, and stronger," a pair of warm hands wrapped around Qingjun's waist. It was Xiaotao. The little girl moved around, her thin body pressed tightly against her. "At that time, we can help Old Jiang dry herbs and help Aunt Dong tailor clothes."

"Like Brother Zhiyang and Brother Jiangshuo, work to earn money and buy candy for everyone." It was Ali, who was also awake.

"When I grow taller, I can bathe the crabapple and burdock."

"I want to have enough to eat, so that everyone can have enough to eat."

"Old Chiang's health is not good. I heard that a kind of nourishing soup is popular in the city that can prolong life."

"Then remember to visit the Temple of the Goddess of Longevity often, offer incense and prayers to the goddess, and bless everyone to be healthy, so that even when we are a hundred or two hundred years old, we can still meet."

In the pitch-black night, the children's innocent words are like stars, making the terrifying darkness exceptionally lovely. Even as the night deepens, they are not cold, for they will stretch out their arms, gather into a ball of starlight, and warm each other.

That night, Qingjun slept very soundly. In his hazy dream, the hundred-mile-long sea of ​​flowers outside the temple stretched endlessly, covering the human world and occupying the underworld. Every flower in the sea of ​​flowers was a child's smiling face.

The objects piled up in the sea of ​​flowers, imbued with spirit, transformed into sprites. The heavy loom became nimble, weaving thick winter clothes to protect people from the bitter cold; delicate Kongming lanterns rose with the wind, carrying heartfelt wishes; boats set sail, pushing through layers of flower waves, bringing the joyous news of family reunions…

Perhaps the dream was too beautiful, or perhaps it was the sound of even breathing that lingered in her ears when she woke up. The sudden, intense pain of last night felt like a distant memory, and now only peace of mind remained. Qingjun got up very early and went out of her room, only to find that someone else had gotten up even earlier.

It is Jiang Zhiyang.

The crisp morning breeze ruffled his dark hair and gently tickled his cheeks. Perhaps feeling itchy, Jiang Zhiyang unconsciously tilted his head and rubbed it from side to side, like a cat licking its fur.

Today, this silly cat learned to wear an inner garment, hiding his long neck under the white collar. He stared blankly, but the moment he saw Qingjun, he shuddered in surprise.

They looked at each other, speechless...

Does he still have the right to speak with the Qing emperor?

Should he stand up and walk away?

As a matter of courtesy, shouldn't I call her "wife" and then pretend to calmly leave her sight?

"Do the firecrackers in the yard need to be cleaned up?" Qingjun finally spoke up. She noticed a faint hint of joy creeping onto the man's brow. He reacted slightly and then came to greet her.

"No need, these firecrackers bring good fortune and wealth. Let them stay here to attract wealth and blessings."

He wanted to laugh, but felt it was inappropriate, so he forced a smile and said, "More importantly, the first day of the lunar month is the birthday of the Broom God. Using a broom will disturb the god and invite bad luck."

A broom god? A deity who blesses cleanliness and tidiness? I don't think I've ever heard of such a deity. Qingjun found it amusing and chuckled softly.

Qingjun's smile was beautiful; it was a pardon, a permission, allowing him to take a step forward from a distance and enter her world.