After finding a lighter, he took a drag, exhaling a blue mist. The window rolled up, and the car soon disappeared into the night.
Jing Xin stood by the roadside, watching the car lights gradually swallowed by the darkness before heading home.
From far away, orange-yellow lights seemed warm in the pitch-black night. One lamp was a warm home, but unfortunately, hers could not provide warmth. Despite having a mother, brother, and sister-in-law, she felt no solace.
Exhaustion consumed her. She dreaded arguments and braced herself for her sister-in-law’s voice, which tensed every cell in her body.
Her desire for home was intense, but not for her current one. A lonely heart had nowhere to rest.
A few years ago, Jing Xin was fond of a Korean drama called “Winter Sonata.” One line left a deep impression on her. In a scene with heavy snowfall, the male lead, Kang Jun-sang, asked: “Miss Jeong Yeo-jin, what do you think a home should be like?”
She replied: “For people in love, each other’s hearts are the best home.”
Kang Jun-sang was stunned, and Jing Xin believed this line was why he fell deeply for Jeong Yeo-jin, creating a tearjerking love story.
Yet such beautiful love was hard to find in real life. In a materialistic society, love often felt hasty and unrealistic. Still, this line kept her enamored with the drama for many years.
Before even reaching home, she heard noisy sounds mixed with faint crying.
The living room was a mess, with broken bowls, dented pots, her mother’s clothes, and books scattered everywhere.
Her sister-in-law stood like a victorious rooster, arms crossed, leaning against the table.
Her mother sat curled in a corner chair, her small figure appearing aged at only 56, with red, swollen eyes illuminated by harsh white light.
Jing Xin’s heart ached. What was the point of having children? They said one would enjoy their children’s blessings in old age, but her mother wasn’t enjoying anything, not even a normal life.
“Brother, what happened? How did it become like this again?” Jing Xin asked weakly.
Her brother shook his head, saying nothing. A neighbor pulled Jing Xin aside and whispered: “The village chief came today to notify that the village will be demolished this week. Tomorrow, households must report their homeowner’s situation. Your sister-in-law is causing this scene to fight for an extra house, but your mom absolutely refuses to agree. With tomorrow’s deadline approaching, she’s trying to force your mom to change her mind. Qing Mei’s life is truly difficult, stuck with such a daughter-in-law.”
The neighbor’s voice was low, but the sharp-eared sister-in-law heard it.
Jing Xin, I want to make this clear: three houses must be registered under your brother’s and my name. After getting the houses, I’ll give one to you and Mom to live in until Mom passes away, and then I’ll take it back. Don’t you think this is fair?
“Okay, let’s do it this way. I have no objections. We’ll go to the village office tomorrow to register. But you must promise me one thing: you’re not allowed to bully Mom anymore.” Jing Xin didn’t want to dwell on this matter, thinking that once she starts working, she’ll take her mother to live with her.
“Guo Ai Ping, as long as I’m alive, don’t even think about it!” The mother rose from the corner, stepping on scattered fragments. Her face showed a mix of despair and determination: “Jing Rong, I’m not asking you to help your sister, but you must give one of the houses to your sister.”
“Mom, my sister has promised to give us this house, so please don’t interfere, okay?” Her brother’s brow furrowed, and he slammed his fist against the wall, causing paint to peel off.
“No, I’ve said it: as long as I’m alive, a house must be given to my daughter.” The mother’s gaze settled on the father’s memorial photo.
“Fine, fine!”
What a touching mother-daughter relationship!
“Sister-in-law, it’s not that I’m not giving you a chance. We’ll get a divorce tomorrow. You’re useless, and I can’t live with you another day.” With these words, she wiped her tears and ran upstairs.
“Mom, I really don’t want this house. I can earn money and buy my own after I start working. Just give it to my brother.” Jing Xin hugged her frail mother, wishing to lessen her suffering.
A muffled sound came from behind. Jing Xin and her mother turned to see Jing Rong kneeling among the broken bowls, crying: “Mom, please agree. I don’t want to divorce Ai Ping. Mom, I’m sorry!” He slapped himself repeatedly, each sound striking Jing Xin’s heart.
Jing Xin rushed over, grabbing his hand: “Brother, don’t do this. Don’t.” The family cried together.
Finally, the mother coldly declared: “Demon!” and went to her room, closing the door.
Her brother also retreated to his room, leaving Jing Xin alone in the empty hall.
The old wall clock ticked loudly as she cleaned up the mess and suddenly let out a low laugh, tears flowing, wondering what kind of family this was.
Chapter Six: Strange Person
On Monday morning, she took the bus to school early, waking before her mother and brother. At the village entrance, Jing Xin kept stopping to look back.
The small village in the early morning was hidden in mist, peaceful and serene. The river flowed gently, as clear as Jing Xin remembered. The wind rustled the leaves of the white birch trees lining the road. This beauty would soon cease to exist.
Jing Xin sometimes felt that life was mysterious and complex—longing for change yet constantly reminiscing about the past. Wasn’t the past also old and unbearable? Perhaps people miss just a tiny bit of emotion.
She took a few cherry blossom branches and placed them next to a photo, whispering: “Tian Ya, these are the cherry blossoms from A University. Aren’t they beautiful? I picked them this morning; this year’s blossoms are fuller and more vibrant. When the wind blows, they dance like a fragrant petal rain. Tian Ya, do you like them?”
Memories evoke melancholy. Jing Xin stopped talking, hugging her knees at the grave. She liked sitting in contemplation, sometimes thinking of nothing. The warm sunlight felt like golden light slipping through her fingers, casting delicate shadows on her face.
Then the warmth beside her suddenly disappeared.
Jing Xin looked up to see Jiang Xiangyang standing in front of her, his tall and robust frame backlit by sunlight, casting a large shadow over them. His face was blurry, with only a pair of piercing amber eyes visible.
She felt compelled to say hello. Standing up, her legs were numb from sitting too long, and she almost fell. Fortunately, a strong arm caught her. His icy hand gripped her warm wrist, creating a cool sensation that traveled through her pulse.
Seeing her unresponsive, Jiang Xiangyang released her and walked to his father’s grave, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. A sarcastic smile appeared; if his mother knew he paid respects with cigarettes, she would surely nag him. His father had suffered from lung cancer, a painful death exacerbated by years of smoking.
He lit another cigarette for himself, reflecting on how he probably smoked as much as his father did. He wondered how he might die, but thought it wouldn’t matter; he doubted he’d live long enough to be killed by disease.
Jing Xin glanced at the gravestone and saw the name “Jiang Xiangyang,” realizing this was his father’s grave.
“Do you also come to the cemetery every weekend to see your father?” she asked softly.
“No, my mother used to come. Recently, she hasn’t been well, so I’m here now. Actually, a dead person won’t know anything,” he said, feeling it was pointless to share this.
He had always disliked chatting with others and thought today’s interaction was due to her having saved him previously. Her actions at the time had surprised him—she had appeared recklessly brave but was actually terrified, unable to stand steadily.
