Huo Chuxue accompanied He Qingshi as he walked through every room of the villa. Each room was a story, a chapter from the first half of his life spent with the one who had left.
At times, she envied his wife. She envied that the woman had possessed this man’s complete love, had been loved and cherished by him, had shared a life with him. Even though his wife had been gone for so many years, he remained attached to her, preserving a place for her in his heart.
Yet at other times, she found a sense of release. No matter how much he loved her, she hadn’t been able to stay with him until old age. Heaven had given Huo Chuxue an opportunity to meet him, to feel her heart stir for him, to fall in love with him. All she wanted now was to spare no effort in accompanying him through the rest of his life.
They say the living can never compete with the dead. Those who depart make those left behind forever preserve love and longing for them.
But what did that matter? That he kept a place in his heart for his deceased wife was a testament to his enduring affection. A fickle, heartless man would forget his wife in a heartbeat and seek a new love. Once such a man became devoted to another, that would be for the rest of his life.
He could cherish and miss the one who was gone. But he couldn’t remain trapped there.
What she wanted to do, from beginning to end, was to make the withered tree bloom again, to help him walk out from the dust of the past and live a different life that belonged to him and to her.
When she had mentioned these thoughts to her best friend, Qiao Shengxi, her friend had called her naive. Perhaps she was naive. But she hadn’t reached this dead end’s conclusion yet, hadn’t fought until she was battered and bruised. She couldn’t possibly let go.
There was one more storage room on the top floor, filled with all sorts of miscellaneous items.
He Qingshi rummaged through a large pile of clutter and pulled out a cardboard box containing some books and notebooks.
Curious, Huo Chuxue took out one of the notebooks. On the title page were three hastily scrawled characters: ‘Du Siyuan’.
“Du Siyuan?” she read the name aloud. “Is she Lan Yi and Gui Shu’s daughter?”
He Qingshi nodded. “Yes. She was three years younger than my wife. They grew up together, as close as real sisters.”
She was about to flip through it when He Qingshi stopped her. “That’s Yuanyuan’s diary, Doctor Huo. Better not read it.”
Her hand paused, and she quickly closed the notebook. “My apologies.”
“After Yuanyuan passed, Lan Yi burned almost all of her things. I never expected there’d still be a box here.” He rearranged the items neatly, placing them one by one in order. “I’ll take these back for them this time. Whether to burn them or keep them is their decision.”
“You’re like Lan Yi then? You burned all your wife’s belongings after she passed?”
“Yes. I only kept that one book, The Sound of Wind and Rain.” He lowered his voice. “After she left, I was depressed for a very long time. I couldn’t bear to see any trace of her in the house—her clothes, shoes, makeup, books, even the bed she slept in, the bowls and cups she used, her photos. I even burned all our wedding pictures.”
Seeing her things would only make him think of her, which was too agonizing. He’d rather destroy everything. Unfortunately, it was useless. The longing grew wildly, tormenting him unbearably.
No wonder there wasn’t a single photograph to be seen in the villa.
“It’s useless,” Huo Chuxue said calmly. “I tried that too. It’s just self-deception.”
If the knot in your heart isn’t untied, you can never truly walk out.
The sun set behind the western hills, leaving a magnificent streak of crimson in the sky. The blue was exceptionally dense, not a single cloud in sight.
He Qingshi locked the door, the cardboard box standing by his feet.
The crisp sound of the lock clicking echoed briefly. He took one last look at the villa—the white roof ridge, its lines clean and fluid.
The next time he came, this place would likely be a different scene entirely.
Huo Chuxue asked, “What about the things inside? How do you plan to deal with them?”
He Qingshi stood before the door and answered softly, “I don’t want any of it.”
With no one living there, the house was just an empty shell. He could keep the house and everything in it, but he couldn’t keep the person.
Such a simple truth had taken him ten years to understand.
If Huo Chuxue hadn’t given him that book that day, if he hadn’t returned to Cenling to burn it for Su Miao, he might still not have grasped this simple truth.
Burning that book, having that hysterical outburst, was a farewell to the past. Returning to Qingling, his emotions had spiraled out of control to such an extent that he had sat alone in that Japanese restaurant for so long.
Huo Chuxue gazed at the loquat tree in the distance and asked, “Where is your wife buried?”
“North Suburb Cemetery,” He Qingshi replied.
“Are you going to visit her today?”
“Not today.” He shook his head. “I’ll wait until the winter solstice.”
The two of them walked down the mountain together.
He Qingshi suddenly realized that Huo Chuxue had come up the mountain with him today only to stay at the villa. She hadn’t gone anywhere else. And she had supposedly come to see the scenery.
“We’ll stay at the foot of the mountain tonight and come back up to look around tomorrow,” he said.
Huo Chuxue replied, “The free clinic continues tomorrow.”
Coming to Cenling to see the scenery was naturally just an excuse. She simply wanted to be with him. Even accompanying him as he reminisced about the past was good enough.
Her goal was clear: before she could make him fall for her, she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.
Today, accompanying him on his final visit to the villa felt like completing a ritual. She had personally witnessed him bidding farewell to the past.
“A year ago, I had a patient. Her first child was a daughter, and she hadn’t planned on having a second. Later, when she wanted to, she was diagnosed with uterine cancer, already in the late stages. Her husband, behind her back, found a mistress outside, wanting a son. The child was born before she even passed away. On the child’s one-month celebration, her husband brought the baby home. After she saw the child, she passed away that very night. After her death, the mistress moved into the house, and the family was happy and harmonious again.”
“I used to think that once a person is gone, that’s it. Nothing remains. ‘Once a person is gone, the tea grows cold’—it’s infinitely lamentable. Human feelings are fickle; few people remember those who have left for long. I told you before about my high school English teacher. I liked her very much. When I learned of her death, I cried for a long, long time. I thought I would never forget her. But after so many years, my memory of her had faded. It wasn’t until a recent class reunion when our homeroom teacher mentioned her that I remembered. See? Even I can be so fickle.”
He Qingshi listened quietly without interrupting.
“People easily fall into two extremes. One type is forgetful; they grieve for a few days, then turn around and forget the person who left. The other type is deeply sentimental, like you, clinging to and longing for the departed, drowning in the past and unable to move on.” She looked at him, her voice steady and firm. “Just as you said before, whether we’re willing or not, whether we can bear it or not, the days pass one by one. Someone will always leave before us. That’s fate; it’s irresistible. So you should try to walk out now. ‘A thousand sails pass by the sunken ship; ten thousand saplings spring up ahead of the sick tree.’ That was my mother’s advice to you, and it’s mine as well.”
That night, Huo Chuxue had a dream. In it, she returned to her high school days.
The moment in time was precisely the day Teacher Su left.
That day, she had given Teacher Su a sprig of pear blossoms.
With less than two minutes left before class ended, Teacher Su glanced outside the classroom, pursed her lips into a smile, quickly gathered her textbook, lecture notes, and that sprig of pear blossoms, and said with a laugh, “Goodbye, students!”
“Goodbye, teacher!”
Following Teacher Su’s gaze, Huo Chuxue saw a man. He wore a casual pinstripe shirt and black casual pants. He was tall and straight, his back slender and elegant, like a poplar tree.
He stood against the light, his back to her. She couldn’t see his face clearly, only a vague, slender outline.
She strained to see his face, but she never could.
Then she woke with a start.
Six in the morning. The sky was clear, and sunlight spilled into the room in great swathes. Another bright, sunny day.
She ran her fingers through her tousled, messy hair, her eyes still bleary with sleep.
In all these years, this was the first time Huo Chuxue had dreamed of Teacher Su. She figured it was because she had thought of her yesterday, hence the dream at night. It truly was ‘what you think about by day, you dream about by night.’
She sat quietly for five or six minutes, clearing her mind, then jumped out of bed to wash up in the bathroom. The free clinic wasn’t over yet; every day was a tough grind.
The folk culture research project concluded successfully, and He Qingshi finally had some free time.
Dean Qu was very satisfied with the research and praised He Qingshi highly.
With no classes on Saturday, he went to Lan Yi’s house to see Xiao Qingtian and, while he was at it, deliver that box of Yuanyuan’s things to the elderly couple.
Xiao Qingtian was already over three months old. The little fellow was becoming more adorable by the day. The moment He Qingshi arrived, he grinned at him, waving his little hands happily.
He Qingshi handed the box to the elderly couple and said, “The government is planning to demolish the houses in Cenling soon. I went back a few days ago and found some of Yuanyuan’s things still in the villa. I brought them for you. Whether you keep them or burn them is up to you.”
Lan Yi and Gui Shu crouched down and sifted through the items in the box. They were all things from their daughter’s life.
They had known since before the New Year that the Cenling area was slated for demolition and redevelopment. They just hadn’t expected the government to move so quickly.
Lan Yi stood up and gestured to Gui Shu, “Pick a day and burn it all.”
Gui Shu nodded, bent down to pick up the box, and placed it in a corner.
He Qingshi asked, “Won’t you keep anything to look at? There are diaries Yuanyuan wrote in the notebooks.”
“No,” Lan Yi shook her head. “It’s all in the past. Your Gui Shu and I have completely moved on. Let Yuanyuan rest peacefully over there.”
He Qingshi nodded and said nothing more.
But Lan Yi felt compelled to bring up the old topic again. “It’s been ten years. You should move on too. If Miaomiao knows anything in the afterlife, she would certainly want you to start anew.”
He Qingshi: “…”
Every time he visited, this was an unavoidable topic. Especially since Xiao Qingtian’s birth, it was brought up even more frequently.
“Lan Yi…” He smiled helplessly. “My ears are growing calluses from hearing it.”
Lan Yi, however, was relentless, wishing he would take it to heart immediately. She continued, “What do you think of Doctor Huo? Your Gui Shu and I both like that girl very much. Not only is she beautiful, but she’s also sincere, warm, always smiling, optimistic, and cheerful. Her personality is beyond reproach.”
He Qingshi: “…”
Hearing Lan Yi mention Huo Chuxue, He Qingshi’s heart gave a sudden jolt, and an indescribable, peculiar feeling welled up inside him. The feeling was tangled and uncomfortable.
He hadn’t seen Huo Chuxue for many days since returning from Cenling, and they hadn’t been in contact privately. The restless fire in his heart had been suppressed, tending toward calm.
Now, with Lan Yi bringing her up, that fire was rekindled, burning at his nerves.
His expression changed slightly, and he said hurriedly, flustered, “Lan Yi, you’re really joking. With Doctor Huo’s excellent qualities, how could she possibly be with a divorced man? Given my circumstances, I shouldn’t hold her back.”
Lan Yi, feeling frustrated that he wasn’t living up to his potential, said, “What’s wrong with being divorced? What era is this now? Young people these days get married today and divorced tomorrow. Being divorced is perfectly normal! And you’re a university professor—your thinking is so outdated.”
“I know my own limits. Please don’t worry about me; just focus on taking good care of Qingtian.” He Qingshi clearly didn’t want to continue the topic. He tossed out those words and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll go help Gui Shu.”
Watching him leave, Lan Yi couldn’t help but let out a long sigh. She wondered when he would ever be able to walk out.