Gu Qingtong heard her voice, and the silver spoon in her hand fell with a clang. She staggered towards the door: “Uncle Jiang, Aunt Lin.”
At the moment she rushed out, she still hoped that the news of Jiang Shangheng’s death was just a misunderstanding. But when she saw the red cloth package in Master Jiang’s hand, the heart she had just pieced together shattered again. It was shaped like a jar. Was he inside?
She dazedly took the clay urn from Master Jiang’s hand. He told her it contained Jiang Shangheng’s ashes.
He was actually, truly dead.
At this moment, she couldn’t even deceive herself.
Better not to wake up, better not to wake up.
Better to remain in a dream, better to remain in a dream.
Better to have never come to this world, better to have never known such a person.
Master Jiang watched her collapse to the ground, his mouth opening and closing as he explained why he was late, why Jiang Shangheng ultimately lost his life.
Because Aunt Lin couldn’t bear the pain of losing a child twice, she fell ill. To treat her, they were delayed on the road for more than half a month.
“
Because the former Zhen Yuan Marquis didn’t plead for the wronged Lord Gu; because Aunt Lin’s family was the enemy of Empress Guo; because the Empress, hearing of Gu Qingtong’s death, felt even more guilty towards Lord Gu and became disoriented; because Shen Yuqing refused to believe Gu Qingtong was dead and drove herself mad; because they believed Jiang Shangheng should accompany Gu Qingtong in death; they could no longer listen to the court officials’ advice, and couldn’t even hear Jiang Shangheng’s final truth that Gu Qingtong was not dead – Jiang Shangheng was ultimately dead.
Gu Qingtong saw blurry figures before her eyes, her ears filled with heartbroken cries. With a bang, she felt the world suddenly become hideous.
It turned out that Jiang Shangheng’s death was also related to her.
She felt her breath was about to fail. Her eyes were dry from crying, and she didn’t wail. Exhausted, she had no strength to cry or speak.
She sat on the ground, unwilling to get up.
She drifted off, crying herself to sleep, but her sleep was shallow. She could hear every word around her, yet she kept having nightmares.
Jiang Shangheng, covered in blood, reached out to her, wanting to speak but hesitating. She would run towards him, but always dissolve into mist just before embracing him.
That night, Gu Qingtong developed a high fever.
She held Jiang Shangheng’s ashes, refusing to let go, feeling cold and hot compresses on her forehead. She knew she was sick and feverish but didn’t want to wake up. In waking, she’d only have his handful of dust, but in dreams, she at least had his bloody self, though she could never catch him, not even his fingers.
Madame Min kept telling her that if she didn’t improve, she would lose the child; Aunt Lin held her hand, saying if she didn’t wake up, how could Jiang Shangheng rest in peace.
Her belly suddenly began to hurt, as if the child was protesting, protesting the mother’s neglect, her collapse, her silent abandonment.
Gu Qingtong released Jiang Shangheng’s ashes, and her abdomen grew increasingly painful until she was given a bowl of extremely bitter medicine.
The medicine seemed to contain sedatives. This time, she fell into a complete sleep, with no nightmares, no Jiang Shangheng, dreaming of nothing.
Winter arrived in the blink of an eye. Gu Qingtong was no longer as heartbroken and tearful as before, but she still avoided accepting Jiang Shangheng’s death.
Because she refused to be far from him, Jiang Shangheng’s ashes were buried under the wood hibiscus tree in the yard.
Master Jiang, thinking about letting the deceased rest, but considering her pregnancy, allowed her to do as she wished.
She now rarely left her home, just watching him daily.
Gu Qingtong looked out, seeing Yanxing City covered in snow, with endless snowflakes continuously falling.
After winter arrived, the dozen children left by General He no longer followed Master Min on escort missions. For the first time outside Floating Cloud Mountain, seeing snow made them joyful. The weather wasn’t too cold, so the younger children played in the snow in the yard, while the older ones entertained themselves by throwing snowballs at each other.
Winter had come, so spring was not far behind.
Gu Qingtong remembered that she had also arrived here in spring. She first met Jiang Shangheng by the lake, and he had saved her. The tombstone in the yard wasn’t intricately carved, but she felt that by looking at it, he was also looking at her.
A layer of snow covered the tombstone. She approached to wipe it off and spoke to him. The child was almost seven months old; by spring, the child would be born.
Gu Qingtong gently rubbed her belly, soothing the restless child who loved to kick her.
Perhaps it was a boy, a boy as gentle as Jiang Shangheng, she thought.
Gradually, the frozen river began to thaw, the spring river grew warm, and the courtyard pond visibly rose. It was late spring, and the violets hanging on the vine rack were sprouting green, like blue ornaments, pleasing to the eye.
Since last autumn, Gu Qingtong had been learning embroidery and making baby clothes from Aunt Lin. Although her embroidery was still ugly, she could now make a set of clothes in just over ten days. She had already made several sets of baby clothes, and Gu Qingtong was particularly happy with her hard work.
From afar, Yu Rong saw her with a calm smile at the corner of her mouth and couldn’t bear to disturb this peaceful scene, but someone was waiting to see her. As she was approaching her due date, Yu Rong was afraid of stimulating her, but the visitor had been begging to see her for a long time. Master Jiang and Aunt Lin had gone to the temple to pray, and there was no one else in the mansion, so she could only seek Gu Qingtong’s opinion.
“Rong’er, what’s wrong?” Gu Qingtong put away her needle and thread and saw Yu Rong leaning against the doorway, frowning slightly.
“Sister…” Yu Rong bit her lip, hesitating.
“Speak up, did you fancy a young gentleman? Shall I ask Master Min to help?” Gu Qingtong teased.
This was not the first time Gu Qingtong had joked with her, but previously Yu Rong would always blush and run away. This time, her face looked troubled, so Gu Qingtong stopped laughing: “Rong’er, what happened?”
“Sister, a gentleman named Shen Yuqing and a lady named Ji Chen want to see you.”
Upon hearing Shen Yuqing’s name, the baby clothes Gu Qingtong had just folded slipped to the floor.
“Sister, if you don’t want to see them, I’ll send them away,” Yu Rong said, seeing her reaction.
“No, Rong’er, let them come in,” Gu Qingtong bit her lip hard and said word by word.
Gu Qingtong pressed her waist and stood up, walking to the door. Soon, Yu Rong led a man and a woman in. Ji Chen looked the same as before, her eyes full of urgency, but she was supporting Shen Yuqing. Looking at Shen Yuqing, her gaze was blank, mumbling to herself, seemingly dazed.
“Tong’er,” Ji Chen walked closer and softly called her name, tears falling like rain.
Gu Qingtong turned sideways, letting them into the room and sitting at the table.
Ji Chen helped Shen Yuqing sit down, opening her mouth but not knowing where to begin.
“How did you find me here?” Although Gu Qingtong still had feelings for Ji Chen, she did not want to see Shen Yuqing. She suppressed her anger and spoke calmly.
Shen Yuqing’s hand rested on the table, playing with a jade hairpin, completely absorbed and unresponsive to their conversation.
Gu Qingtong quietly watched him for a while. Although she harbored resentment towards him, seeing him like this made her feel a complex mix of emotions. He was once magnificent and loved her desperately, but now, he was like a three-year-old child.
