Не stооd thеre rigidly onсе more, thеn turned his heаd, urgеntlу sеаrсhing for Jiang Du.
Тhe gifts in his hand fell to the ground with а thud. Sеnsing his unusual bеhaviоr, Jiаng Du рiсked thеm uр аnd аskеd, "Arе you feеling unwеll?"
Wei Qingуue grabbed hеr arm tightly, his griр so forсеful thаt Jiаng Du аlmоst winсed. Yet shе еndured his suddеn strаngеness, сalling his nаmе gently: "Wеi Qingуue, whаt's wrong?"
His questiоn was equallу оdd, his еyеs unblinking: "Are yоu rеаl? You wоn't lеаvе, will уоu?"
Jiang Du thеn sеt the gifts аside, рaying thеm no mind. Неr fingеrs naturаllу rеstеd on his arm, and undеr the dim glow of the newlу lit streetlamр, she said tо him, "I'm right herе, Wеi Qingyuе. I haven't left, and I won't."
Wei Qingyue nodded and said, "Why does the security guard in your neighborhood look exactly like the one from your old place?"
Jiang Du glanced back, seemingly understanding the inexplicable fear that had flashed across his face earlier. She smiled, gently stroking his arm. "You must have mistaken him. Security guards all look pretty similar."
"Really?" For a moment, a trace of vulnerability appeared on Wei Qingyue's face.
Jiang Du gazed at him with a hint of sorrow and said, "Really." Her fingers slid down to hold his hand. "Wei Qingyue, you're not doing well right now. Let me take you to see a doctor, okay?"
"Okay," he agreed without hesitation.
The two picked up the gifts again and entered the house.
The moment the door opened, the familiar light, the familiar scent, the familiar... two elderly faces, almost unchanged by time, left Wei Qingyue breathless, suffocating for a long moment.
Masking his emotions, he greeted them, then turned his gaze back to Jiang Du.
Those eyes, that face—he suddenly realized Jiang Du looked exactly as she had at sixteen, except with long, curly hair now. That was all. Her skin was fair and clear, her eyes bright, her eyebrows dark. Only her hairstyle had changed, nothing more.
Wei Qingyue unconsciously tightened his grip on the keychain hanging from his car keys—the Tweety Bird.
The keychain left a deep imprint on his skin. He glanced down at it, then looked up again. Jiang Du now appeared as an adult, and the elderly couple bore the marks of time, their temples graying and wrinkles etched deeply. Wei Qingyue quietly let out a long sigh of relief. He blinked and finally introduced himself with ease:
"Hello, Grandpa and Grandma. I'm Wei Qingyue. I'm not sure if you still remember me."
"Of course we remember, how could we forget?" Grandma said happily, looking him over. "You've been to our house before—the top-scoring male classmate, right?"
Being the top scorer felt like a distant, dreamlike memory. A faint smile tugged at Wei Qingyue's lips as he nodded. "Yes, you still remember."
"Old man, you remember too, right?" Grandma nudged Grandpa, who was wearing an apron and laughed just as heartily as before. "How could I forget? The kid who was going abroad to study. You're back? Come, sit, sit. You're in luck today—I've cooked up a feast."
Jiang Du playfully pushed Grandpa toward the kitchen, complaining, "We're all starving. Are you done yet?"
Grandma took the gifts and said, "It's just a simple meal. Look at you, bringing so many things. Next time, don't go to such expense." Wei Qingyue replied, "It's nothing much, just a small token of appreciation." He spoke a bit awkwardly, glancing at Jiang Du, who was suppressing a smile.At the dinner table, Grandpa poured a little wine and offered it to Wei Qingyue. Wei Qingyue quickly stood up, bending slightly, holding the rim of the cup with both hands to receive the wine. He tilted his head back and drank it all in one go without even a frown:
“I’ll finish this; you take your time.”
Jiang Du watched with a faint smile, her lips pressed together.
Wei Qingyue continued drinking one cup after another. Fortunately, the cups were small. Grandma stopped Grandpa: “You old fool, you’ll get the kid drunk, and he’ll feel awful. What’s the point?”
“What do you know, old woman? I’m happy today. Come on, Xiao Wei, your name is Wei… Wei what?” Grandpa waved his hand, his face flushed like peach blossoms.
“Wei Qingyue. ‘Qing’ as in clear water, ‘Yue’ as in surpass,” Wei Qingyue patiently explained.
The conversation drifted in and out. Grandpa couldn’t really hold his liquor—his face flushed at the first sip, and he got drunk easily. He had a lot to say.
“You and Jiang Du were high school classmates?”
“Yes.”
“What did you study abroad?”
“Computer science.”
“Oh, working with computers. How many people are in your family?” Grandpa had already forgotten Jiang Du’s earlier reminders. Now, unable to catch the frequent glances she was sending his way, he questioned Wei Qingyue with bleary, drunken eyes.
Wei Qingyue smiled. “My parents are divorced, and they each have new families.”
Grandpa let out an “oh” and muttered to himself, “Divorced, good that they’re divorced.”
Grandma angrily tapped her chopsticks on the table. “What nonsense are you spouting, you silly old man?” She turned to Wei Qingyue with an apologetic smile. “Don’t mind him, child. He’s talking nonsense.”
Wei Qingyue shook his head. “It’s fine. I think so too.”
Grandma’s face clearly showed a few seconds of awkwardness. She quickly urged Wei Qingyue to eat more, piling food onto his plate. Jiang Du didn’t say anything, but while Grandma went to fetch more rice and Grandpa was still tipsy, she reached over and gently touched Wei Qingyue’s hand.
Wei Qingyue smiled at her.
“Actually, besides wanting to visit you both today, there’s something else. Jiang Du and I are not getting any younger,” Wei Qingyue began. The two women at the table froze. Grandma looked at Jiang Du, and Jiang Du looked at Wei Qingyue, her eyes questioning: Didn’t we agree to just have dinner? You didn’t discuss this with me!
“My plan is to pick a date soon and get married,” Wei Qingyue continued at his own pace, his gaze shifting between the two elders while avoiding Jiang Du. “I assume Jiang Du has already told you about my basic situation. If you both agree, we can get engaged first.”
Jiang Du’s face flushed as red as a monkey’s bottom. Unable to hold back, she stretched her leg under the table and stomped hard on his foot. Wei Qingyue seemed completely unfazed, clearing his throat quickly. “Do you have any requirements for the bride price? Please feel free to tell me directly. I might be a bit straightforward. If what I just said seems abrupt, I hope you’ll forgive my youth and lack of consideration.”
Bride price? How did we suddenly get to bride price? Jiang Du felt dizzy, as if she were floating up to the moon. Her heart raced uncontrollably, and she stared at Wei Qingyue with nervous, flustered eyes.
From beginning to end, he had been speaking only to the two elders.
Grandma also wore a bewildered expression, looking blankly at Grandpa, who still hadn’t grasped the situation, then at Jiang Du. She stammered, “You young people should decide these things yourselves. We…” She nudged the clueless Grandpa hard with her elbow. “Right, old man? As long as you two are willing, we agree. No objections, no objections.”
Grandpa seemed to wake from a dream, his face still flushed. “You said you want to marry our Jiang Du, is that right?”The voice was so loud that Jiang Du suspected half the neighborhood could hear it. She quickly stood up to close the screen window. A cool breeze brushed her face, and Jiang Du touched her burning cheeks, took a deep breath, then swiftly turned back. Under the light, she met Wei Qingyue's pitch-black eyes.
"Yes, I want to marry Jiang Du, but I must first seek your approval." Wei Qingyue's heart raced faster, forcing him to grab his cup and take another sip of baijiu.
The world grew slightly tipsy, bitter and spicy, yet bathed in sunlight, with golden osmanthus blossoms hanging from deep green leaves. The rich floral scent continuously spread until it enveloped the entire world like a thick fog.
This time, he was almost successful—yes, this time he was almost there, and he would surely succeed!
A top spun rapidly in his mind. He would no longer have regrets, no longer wander lost and desolate. It was his own selfishness—in his haste to pursue his future, he had left without staying to accompany her in her loneliness. He knew everything—her misfortunes, her thoughts—but he had not understood himself enough, realizing it only too late.
Forgive him, forgive me.
Wei Qingyue’s other hand nearly crushed the Tweety Bird.
His body trembled slightly.
The old man’s voice rang clearly before him. Grandpa laughed heartily, saying, "That’s wonderful! If you don’t marry her soon, Jiang Du will grow old. This is truly wonderful! Even if your grandma and I were to die now, we could close our eyes in peace!"
A crisp, jade-like sound echoed for a long time.
The string that had been taut in Wei Qingyue’s heart for twelve years finally snapped at this moment. He felt as if all his strength had been drained.
He stood up, losing his composure, his throat tightening. "I truly don’t know how to thank you both…"
"Silly child, there’s no need for thanks. Sit down, sit down quickly." Grandma’s dry, rough hand rested on the back of his hand—so real, the touch of skin from a distant yet familiar elder.
He was allowed to stay the night.
Wei Qingyue’s steps were unsteady. He had drunk too much, reeking of alcohol, his gaze growing hazy and sentimental. He saw a bouquet of chrysanthemums on the living room table, white as snow, yet half-wilted and withering. They needed to be replaced. Staggering to the chrysanthemums, he thought in a daze that he hadn’t asked Jiang Du yet—yes, he still hadn’t asked Jiang Du.
But the world swayed violently. He called her name, and in the turbulence, the clock hanging on the wall remained motionless.
"Why is your clock broken?" Wei Qingyue pointed at the wall. "The clock in the room was broken the day Huang Yingshi interviewed me. Tell me, I’m not dreaming."
Jiang Du glanced at the wall, nearly on the verge of tears. "The clock is working. You’ve had too much to drink."
"And the flowers?" Wei Qingyue pointed at the white chrysanthemums again, feeling nauseous. "Why are there white chrysanthemums in your house? And they’re almost dried up. Jiang Du, don’t you think your house feels eerie?"
Jiang Du steadied him, saying, "Grandma bought these. I’ll just put the chrysanthemums in water, and they’ll last a while longer."
She helped him into her small bedroom. Wei Qingyue saw it—his soul left his body, hovering in mid-air, gazing affectionately and intently at everything happening in the bedroom.
He had split into two parts.Jiang Du held him by the waist, with Wei Qingyue’s full weight pressing down on her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and Jiang Du could barely support him, stumbling backward until she leaned against the desk to steady herself.
“Marry me,” he murmured in a low voice.
“I’ll marry you, I’ll marry you,” Jiang Du whispered softly, stroking his back as if soothing a child.
“I’m sorry, I know I’ve wronged you,” he began to cry, his world quickly blurring. “I wrote you letters. Didn’t you see them? Why didn’t you read the letters I wrote you? I told you I’d come back, come back to find you.”
Jiang Du’s voice grew even gentler. She held him close and said with a smile, “But you’re back now, aren’t you?”
“Then why did you ignore me? We met twice after that. Why did you ignore me?” Wei Qingyue asked, confused and hurt, like a child.
Jiang Du wasn’t surprised at all. Her eyes still curved into a smile. “Silly, I’m going to marry you. Forget the past. You’ll have a good life.”
You’ll have a good life.
These words were exactly the same as those spoken on that rainy day twelve years ago when they had briefly confided in each other. That rain, in truth, had lasted for twelve years. Wei Qingyue thought this and told her so, saying, “Jiang Du, it’s been raining for twelve years. Did you know? It rains every day.”
Jiang Du pushed him away to look at his face, her smile lively. She widened her eyes. “Really? That’s amazing. It can rain for twelve years straight? Where is such a magical place? I only know it rains in Macondo.”
“Yes, you’ve forgotten. I’m full of useless but interesting knowledge. Let me tell you how this works, okay?” He pulled her, and they tumbled onto the bed.
Jiang Du’s face was flushed and glowing, her eyes like pools of the clearest water as she gazed up at him leaning over her.
Wei Qingyue couldn’t help but touch her face. The lamplight was warm.
He didn’t explain. Instead, he grew stubborn again:
“I saw you twice, in 2009 and again in 2015. Why did you ignore me?”
Jiang Du gently corrected him, “Wei Qingyue, you’re sick. I know everything. You dreamed of me. You’ve confused dreams with reality. I’ll take you to see a doctor. You must listen to me and see a doctor. If you don’t, I’ll be heartbroken.”
She reached out and stroked his face, her fingers moving as lightly as clouds.
“I didn’t,” Wei Qingyue refused to listen, even growing a little angry. “I’m not confused. Why don’t you believe me? I saw you twice. I really saw you.”
In 2009, he chose to return during summer break and went to Mei Zhong.
On the very day the national college entrance exams ended in China.
He knew everyone would tear up their books, and textbooks, exam papers, and study materials would fall like heavy snow.
Jiang Du was leaning against the railing, the teaching building brightly lit, so brilliantly illuminated.
He stood on the first floor, looking up, and spotted her in the crowd at once. The snow fell thick and fast, and youth was about to scatter.
He walked up the stairs, which seemed endlessly long, until the sound of classmates’ laughter echoed from the top. Unable to resist, he took two steps at a time, rushing to the corridor. Jiang Du was surrounded by many people, so many that their smiling faces blurred, and they all turned their eyes toward him.
Like a long cinematic shot.
“It’s Wei Qingyue! Wei Qingyue is back!”Jiang Du saw him too, squeezed by the crowd as classmates surged over like a roaring tide, gradually engulfing her. Her figure was blocked by others, but she still offered him a shy, faint smile, standing there without moving.
More and more people rushed toward him. He wanted to see her clearly, so he pushed through the crowd with all his might. But there were so many people—no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t clear them all. The clamor of voices swept past his ears, countless words floating in the air, yet he heard nothing.
He wanted to tell her that he had missed her all along, wondering how she had been. And also:
"Jiang Du, what’s going on? You never contacted me. Well, I understand you’ve been busy with school these past two years, but since we’re both going to college now, how about we get together? What do you say to dating me?"
No, that was too direct. He worried she’d be too shy, maybe even scared off.
"Jiang Du, long time no see. How did your college entrance exam go? Are you free this summer? Let’s hang out sometime."
No, that was too vague. She wasn’t the sharpest, and she might not catch his meaning.
"Jiang Du, do you still like me? I’ve realized over these two years that I’ve always liked you."
"Jiang Du, after leaving Mei Zhong, I found that I actually miss it a lot. When I said I didn’t feel any attachment to this place before, I was lying. I miss you, our teachers, and classmates. How about you?"
"Jiang Du, you’ve grown taller…"
…
What should he say? He agonized over it throughout the entire journey, tens of thousands of meters in the air.
The crowd trapped him, and by the time he broke free, Jiang Du was no longer where she had been.
No one knew where she had gone.
He didn’t understand why she had only smiled faintly and then disappeared. How could she not wait for him? Was she angry? Angry that he had only chatted with classmates and hadn’t noticed her?
This person, how could she be so petty? Without a word, she vanished.
Wei Qingyue searched everywhere for her—her dormitory, her neighborhood—until he was exhausted, but still found no trace. Frustrated and angry, he returned to the United States.
Perhaps, the moment he appeared in the hallway, he should have been brave and straightforward, calling out her name first.
He deeply regretted not doing so, instead hesitating over what to say. Hesitating for what? He should have just called out to her.
And so, he spent another six years in the United States.
It wasn’t until 2015 that he returned to China, with no plans to stay in the U.S. any longer.
He still hadn’t dated anyone because Zhang Xiaoqiang told him that Jiang Du was testing him these six years: Could he return to China? And return with accomplishments? Six years, six whole years—Wei Qingyue simmered in frustration. What kind of person was she, keeping him on edge without giving a clear answer? He never would have guessed that Jiang Du could be so cunning! He must have been blind to fall for a girl like that… But she had said, "Wei Qingyue, run faster! Your dad is going to hit you again, run! It hurts so much, run faster, don’t let him hit you…" Wei Qingyue thought he might as well keep liking that swollen, pig-headed version of her.
After all, Zhang Xiaoqiang told him that Jiang Du would wait for him, as long as he didn’t return to China empty-handed.
But just when he thought the testing period was over, Jiang Du disappeared again.He first calmly said, "I understand," but not long after, he suddenly called his old classmate Zhang Xiaoqiang and berated her mercilessly. He had never lost his composure like that before—vicious and cutting. He said, "Zhang Xiaoqiang, did you deliberately interfere? I’ve always known you liked me. Did you cause trouble because you saw I liked Jiang Du? I really misjudged you. How could you be so petty?"
Zhang Xiaoqiang cried from his scolding, sobbing uncontrollably but offering no explanation.
At that time, he was starting a business with a senior. He was busy seeking funding and often visited universities to find potential partners. By chance, he ran into Jiang Du on campus. With just one glance, he recognized her.
In that moment, anger overwhelmed his reason. He watched coldly as she hurried past, clutching her books, and called out to stop her.
He savored the look of surprise on her face while suppressing his pounding heart.
The desire to be with her was still as intense as ever. But inexplicable pride took over. Though he clearly saw her eyes reddening rapidly, what came out of his mouth was a cold sneer:
"Long time no see."
She trembled and replied, "Long time no see."
"Are you studying for a master’s degree here? I never thought you had the brains to get into graduate school. A humanities major, right? Will you even find a job after this?" His sarcasm was unmistakable.
His words were sharp, but deep down, he had already guessed she might be pursuing a graduate degree at the university.
He didn’t know how he ended up saying such hurtful things.
Jiang Du’s expression indeed changed. Stuttering, she asked him why he was there, avoiding his sudden personal attack.
"Me? I have business here. I made an appointment and, of course, keep my word. Unlike some people who pretend to be pure and kind, enjoy stringing others along, and talk nothing but nonsense." He felt truly twisted, growing more excessive with every word. The initial joy of their unexpected encounter had turned into a blade, each strike cutting deep.
The feeling of watching her suffer while he himself suffered, yet deriving a twisted sense of vengeful satisfaction, was intoxicating. Wei Qingyue remained cold-faced throughout. He thought he had to provoke her, and his behavior was utterly lacking in grace, as if he had swallowed gunpowder.
Jiang Du stared at him, pale and speechless.
His heart ached at that moment, but he maintained his composure, playing hard to get. "Since we’ve run into each other, let’s exchange contact information."
Watching her nod hastily, Wei Qingyue gave her his phone number and saved hers.
Suppressing his surging emotions, he told her coldly, "I have things to attend to. You can contact me if needed."
Originally, he intended to keep Jiang Du waiting. At the time, he was still so confident, assuming she had no boyfriend—or if she did, it didn’t matter, he could win her over. He truly couldn’t understand how, having once liked him, she could possibly be interested in anyone else.
When he finally dialed that number, it was already unreachable.
He searched the entire university, only to find no trace of her. Wei Qingyue then realized Jiang Du might not be studying at this school—she might have just been visiting by chance.
Unable to find her, he instantly hated himself to the core.
Who knew that missing her to the point of depression would make him act so childishly and hurt her? Why couldn’t he communicate properly? Why couldn’t he have let her know from the start that he had been thinking of her, waiting for her?
Wei Qingyue felt like killing himself.
The rich fragrance of osmanthus drifted in through the window.Time returned to the present in 2019. Wei Qingyue kept apologizing to her, speaking incessantly, while Jiang Du did not interrupt him at all. In his voice, there was a hint of autumn—desolate and bleak.
Time grew soft. She listened to his heart, hoping to soothe his pain.
"Don't say sorry. I never blamed you, never," she looked into his eyes. "You weren’t wrong to go abroad. You did nothing wrong. I was happy for you. At that time, I only wished for one thing—that you could live a better life."
"But I didn’t," Wei Qingyue said sadly.
Jiang Du smiled, "You're really silly. You've broken free from your father, no longer enduring his violence, and become an outstanding person. You've touched a broader world, haven't you?"
He shook his head, "But I want to live with you."
"You're with me now," Jiang Du assured him. "You're tired and need a good rest. Let's sleep together." She stroked his hair, got up to make the bed. Wei Qingyue felt dizzy and heavy-headed; he had almost forgotten that she hadn't explained why 2009 and 2015 had disappeared. He tugged at her again, "We met twice, haven't you forgotten?"
Jiang Du pretended to be angry and poked his chest, "Wei Qingyue, if you keep talking nonsense, I'm really going to lose my temper." But her tone quickly softened, "I'll take you to see a doctor. Do you remember Zhu Yulong? My deskmate, the one who photocopied notes for me, which you delivered in the rain."
Wei Qingyue didn't want to remember anyone, but he reluctantly replied, "I remember."
"Zhu Yulong has become a very skilled doctor. I'll take you to see her so you won't be confused anymore." Jiang Du arranged the pillow and helped him undress. He was bare-chested, and under the light, Wei Qingyue's body was covered in scars. Jiang Du felt her eyes sting as she said, "I'll sleep with you."
"I haven't washed up," Wei Qingyue struggled to get up, mumbling, "Even if you don't mind, I do."
Jiang Du washed up with him, both of their mouths full of the spicy foam from toothpaste.
The bathroom was very small, without a dry-wet separation, only a cloth curtain separating it from the showerhead. With two people inside, the space felt cramped. He frowned and asked how anyone could live in such a house. Jiang Du said she had lived in an unfinished apartment after graduation, which was even more run-down, but she had been happy living with her roommate.
Wei Qingyue asked her, "Were you really happy?"
Jiang Du said, "Really, I'm content with simplicity. If others can live like that, so can I."
"I won't let you and your grandparents live in such a shabby house anymore," Wei Qingyue said, then grew puzzled, "Don't your grandparents have pensions? And you're working now, why not rent a slightly better place?"
Jiang Du smiled without answering. She didn't tell him that the family's money had long been spent, and her grandparents' savings were gone. So, she said, "The money saved is for buying nice clothes."
She gave him her facial cleanser to use and brought him an old set of her grandpa's home clothes. Wei Qingyue lay down again; he was indeed very tired.
His body was exhausted, but his mind was restless.
Wei Qingyue said, "I wrote you many letters, but never sent any because I didn't know where you were."
Jiang Du looked pleasantly surprised. She leaned against his chest, repeatedly asking, "Really? Really?"
"Do you want to read them?" Wei Qingyue regained clarity, his words much clearer now. "But they're all trivial things, too fragmented."
"I love trivial things the most," Jiang Du said, pressing her face against his warm skin. "Give me the letters."
Wei Qingyue's hand grasped her shoulder, as if holding nothing.
He suddenly sat up, looking at Jiang Du in utter panic.
"I... I can't seem to feel you anymore." Wei Qingyue became extremely despondent in an instant. Jiang Du watched him with deep concern but said nothing. Instead, she leaned in and kissed him.
She kissed him shyly yet passionately, breathing softly, "Do you feel better now?"The kiss gradually grew warm, Wei Qingyue finally felt her longing for him again, but it wasn't enough—he wanted to feel a kind of self-forgetting desire.
He pressed her down beneath him, asking shameless questions, and Jiang Du's face flushed uncontrollably.
"I've always only had you in my heart," she confessed to him. "No matter when you come back, I'll only marry you. If you don't return, I won't marry anyone. I'm a weirdo, like someone from the past, unable to keep up with this era, but I know you'll still want me, right?"
She truly was a strange person—no Alipay, never sending him WeChat messages. It was as if she had never seen WeChat and didn't know how to use it.
"Say you love me." Wei Qingyue's voice choked up. He didn't want to hear about having only him in her heart; he wanted the most direct, most straightforward, most reassuring confession.
Jiang Du wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down so his ear pressed against her lips. Then, the three words "I love you" were delivered accurately into Wei Qingyue's ear.
Wei Qingyue felt immense satisfaction.
"Tomorrow, take a day off. I'll take one too, and I'll take you somewhere." She was still whispering to him in the quiet night.
"Where to?"
"To my place."
"Your place?"
"Where I used to live."
The next day, both took leave. Jiang Du drove his car, letting him sleep in the back seat, and Wei Qingyue truly rested, sleeping soundly.
Time had entered late autumn—late autumn mountains, late autumn roads, a winding yellow ribbon dotted among the lush greenery on the hillside—that was the foliage about to fall.
Roosters crowed, dogs barked, cooking smoke curled upward, and the air was as fresh as flower dew.
The wind wasn't strong, so the clouds drifted leisurely.
Houses were scattered throughout the village, but few residents remained.
Jiang Du glanced back at the sleeping Wei Qingyue and didn't wake him until the car stopped, when she called him to look at the scenery.
In the distance, a misty green haze mingled with yellow ginkgo leaves and red maple forests.
First, they switched to an ox cart. Wei Qingyue had no idea how Jiang Du managed to flag down a man driving one. A bell hung around the ox's neck, jingling as it swayed slowly, its eyes wide and ancient in their gaze.
Later, they switched to walking, stepping into withered grass. Jiang Du pointed at a middle-aged man carrying a ladder not far away and said, "Look, it's time to pick persimmons."
Wei Qingyue was puzzled, walking as he asked, "Is this where you used to live?"
"Yes, my grandpa's hometown. I lived here, but not as often as when I was little. Everyone's left." Jiang Du said, "The people here are all old-fashioned too."
Wei Qingyue finally smiled, just like before: "Jiang Du, you really have a way with words—'old-fashioned.' I've honestly never heard people described as 'old-fashioned' before."
Jiang Du shyly kicked a pebble at her feet: "They just are old-fashioned. Everyone's moved to the city to live; this place can't keep people. Those who stay are the old ones; young people don't want to live here anymore."
They eventually struck up a conversation with the man carrying the ladder.
Following him, they went to see how persimmons were picked.
The persimmons were red.
Hanging from the tree, their color was beautiful, standing proudly in the vast expanse of heaven and earth.
The ground was covered with countless fallen leaves. Jiang Du and Wei Qingyue sat on a nearby stone slab as the persimmon picker, agile as an ape, climbed up the ladder with a bamboo basket on his back.
Wildflowers withered, white dew turned to frost."That tool can also catch dragonflies," Jiang Du said unhurriedly, pointing at the bamboo fork. Wei Qingyue smiled. He didn't know why Jiang Du had brought him here, but since she said she wanted to come, he came. He would follow her anywhere in the world.
Picking persimmons was troublesome, peeling them was troublesome, stringing them up was troublesome. Jiang Du explained the entire process step by step until the frost formed, and Wei Qingyue nodded along from time to time.
The persimmon picker told them that a season's harvest of persimmons wouldn't sell for much—they weren't worth much.
"I want to film disappearing villages, to capture the persimmon trees. I'm worried that someday, we won't see scenes like this anymore." Jiang Du plucked a blade of grass, hugged her knees, and leaned down to play with a little insect by her feet.
"But it existed, and in my memory, it will always be beautiful. That's enough. Nothing in this world, no one, is incapable of disappearing. What matters most is that it existed." She picked up a foxtail and brushed it against Wei Qingyue's shoes, which were stained with dew and mud.
Wei Qingyue chuckled and also leaned down, tilting his head to look at her. "You want to film this? It's not actually difficult. Assemble a team, add music, write a script. If you really want to do it, I can help you."
Jiang Du tilted her head too, speaking to him. "Actually, that's not what I wanted to say."
"Then what did you want to say?"
"I wanted to say that everything must return to its roots, sooner or later. What matters most is having been here, like..." She stretched out her foot and nudged a withered wildflower. "Like a flower. Since it blooms, it's destined to wither. But it has already bathed in wind, frost, rain, and dew, and it has seen the sunlight. That's what matters most."
"Why so sentimental all of a sudden?" Wei Qingyue couldn't help teasing her, his mood inexplicably lifting. "I want to call you a literary young woman, but these days, that term is almost an insult."
Jiang Du simply gazed at him, speaking with infinite tenderness. "I want you to understand this, Wei Qingyue. You came to find me, and I've already seen you. I know you love me. Now, you also know that I love you just as much. I've said it before—my blessings for you will last forever, never ceasing. I mean what I say."
"Promise me you'll understand this truth. Since a flower blooms, it will also wither. It's just that some flowers are luckier, blooming longer, while others are less fortunate, blooming briefly. But it bloomed—that's what matters most." She suddenly pulled him up, making him look at the mountains, the grass and trees, the beautiful persimmon tree before them, and then at the fallen leaves beneath their feet.
"Though the leaves have withered, they still return to the earth. In the end, we all return to dust. Do you understand what I'm saying? This is the way of the world—no right or wrong, just the way things are."
Jiang Du's eyes were more beautiful than the persimmon tree, slowly welling up with glistening tears.
"Wei Qingyue, you want to be with me, you want me to marry you. We hold hands, kiss, make love. You know my feelings, they've never changed. You know that, right?"
A cool autumn wind blew, and suddenly, fog rose in the mountains. Wei Qingyue realized the persimmon picker had disappeared at some point, and the ladder was gone. Looking around, the entire village, the one they had seen on their way here, had vanished.
Instinctively, he reached for her hand and said urgently, "I understand, Jiang Du. Let's go home first. The fog is rising."Jiang Du smiled and shook her head, gently pulling her hand away. "I'm not going back. This is my home."
Wei Qingyue stared at her in disbelief. "What are you talking about? This place..."
This desolate place, with only overgrown grass and tombstones.
How could it be? Here, there should have been fiery red persimmon trees and hardworking harvesters.
Wei Qingyue reached for her hand again, but Jiang Du shook her head. "Go find Zhu Yulong, go see a doctor, Wei Qingyue. Don't get sick again."
The wind blew in the mist, making the figure before him flicker in and out of sight.
Wei Qingyue stumbled forward to grab her. She was right there, yet impossibly far away. He couldn't believe it.
"Come home with me," he suddenly burst into tears. "We'll go buy wedding rings, we'll get married right away. Believe me, I'll be good to you, always good to you. Can you please not say things I don't understand?"
"I've already married you. I'm yours. Your wish is fulfilled. Now, you must go find Zhu Yulong. If you don't go find her, I'll be angry and never speak to you again." Jiang Du released the foxtail grass in her hand. It rose with the wind, scattering its seeds in the air. Next year, green new sprouts would grow again.
The whole world would flourish once more, only, her leaves had already withered.
"I won't look for anyone else, only you," Wei Qingyue was almost swallowed by the sudden pain. He began to run, across the rugged mountain paths, the howling wind tossing his hair up and down. She remained before him, always just one step out of reach.
"You can't leave, don't go..." Wei Qingyue wept as he ran, his feet never stopping. It couldn't be. He had succeeded. He had said "long time no see," he had said "let's have a meal together," he had said "let's fall in love," he had said "marry me"... He had clearly done it. Wei Qingyue's head throbbed with pain. The scene from 2009 must not repeat, the story of 2015 must not happen again. He had to catch her.
He begged her through his tears, the dense fog swirling around them. "You can't abandon me, you can't treat me like this, you can't."
Jiang Du's expression remained gentle.
Her slender, pale arm was exposed, bearing two or three red marks.
He had once told her why mosquito bites raised bumps.
"I'm not abandoning you. Go find Zhu Yulong. If you love me, Wei Qingyue, go find Zhu Yulong."
Wei Qingyue wouldn't listen. He only knew to chase her figure, running with all the strength he had in his life. The heavy mist dampened his brows and eyes, tears washed his face, and the wind still blew.
Ahead, the figure gradually disappeared into the depths of the fog.
He didn't care, maintaining his running posture until exhaustion, until his heart and lungs felt ready to burst, until he had spent his last ounce of strength. Heaven and earth lost their distance as he collapsed to the ground. Rain began to fall along the horizon. That rain, in truth, had been falling for twelve years, without ever stopping.
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