The first snow of late winter fell at dawn. Su Jinli was wiping Jiang Yan's withered hands with warm water when snowflakes like broken jade suddenly began to drift outside the window. At first, they were just a few scattered drops, but soon they became a continuous sheet, dyeing the old pomegranate tree in the courtyard a pure white.

"Miss Jinli..." Jiang Yan suddenly opened his eyes, the faint light leaking through the window lattice reflected in his cloudy pupils, and his voice was as light as a snowflake falling to the ground.

Su Jinli quickly leaned forward and warmed his hand in her palm. His fingertips were cold, his knuckles protruding, and he no longer had the strength he once had when he held a pen. "I'm here, Jiang Yan."

"Look..." He rolled his eyes with difficulty and looked out the window. Snowflakes fell on the glass and melted into water marks in an instant. "It's snowing..."

Snowflakes pattered down, and Su Jinli recalled that winter, when they had just gotten married and were living in a shabby courtyard in the south of the city. She'd been carrying a bucket to the well, slipped and fell in the snow, sending the bucket tumbling far away. Jiang Yan, hearing the noise, rushed out, shirtless, kneeling in the snow to carry her back to the house. He used his body heat to warm her frozen feet, rubbing them all night, muttering, "It's all my fault! It's all my fault I don't have the money to buy a nice courtyard."

"I remember." Her voice choked with sobs, her fingertips brushing against the age spots on the back of his hand. "That winter, you held my feet in your arms and said that when you had money, you'd let me live in a house that wouldn't leak in."

Jiang Yan's lips curled up into a faint smile, and tears welled up in his eyes: "Back then... I made you suffer..."

"It's not bitter." Su Jinli shook her head, tears falling on the back of his hand, "The days with you have never been bitter." Those poor but warm times made her more greedy than the fine clothes and delicious food in the prime minister's mansion.

"Jinli..." Jiang Yan's gaze suddenly became extremely focused, as if penetrating the mist of time, "I seem to be... leaving..."

Su Jinli's heart sank, as if she had fallen into an ice cellar. She gripped his hand tightly, her nails digging into his flesh. "Don't talk nonsense. Doctor Liu said you're just weak. You'll be fine after taking the medicine..."

"Silly girl..." He smiled, tears welling up in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. "People grow old, just like leaves on a tree, it's time to fall..." His breathing grew weaker and weaker, his chest rising and falling like a candle in the wind. "Miss Jinli... for the last time... will you... marry me?"

This was his last proposal. Su Jinli watched the anticipation flicker in his eyes, and in a trance, she saw again the young man in blue clothes squatting on the ground in front of a street candy painting stall when he was sixteen, clutching a candy phoenix in his hand, smiling with a smile that curved his eyebrows: "I'll take you in, and I'll protect you from getting into trouble in the future."

"I do." She nodded vigorously, tears streaming down her face, blurring her vision. "Jiang Yan, I am willing to marry you. I've been willing since that day on the street."

"That's great..." He sighed contentedly, his smile as peaceful as a sleeping child, "Jinli... I love you..."

His hand suddenly loosened and fell to the side of the bed. Su Jinli watched helplessly as the light in his eyes gradually extinguished, like the last candle flame in the wind, and finally fell silent.

"Jiang Yan!" She threw herself on him, shaking his shoulders, "Wake up! You said you would accompany me to see the peach blossoms! You said you would marry me in the next life!"

The only response she got was the sound of the snow falling harder and harder outside the window, and her own heartbreaking cries. When Su Heng and Su Qingyao rushed into the room, they saw Su Jinli holding Jiang Yan's body, shaking with sobs. Her white hair was stuck to her cheeks with tears, like a withered plum blossom in the snow.

Jiang Yan's funeral was a solemn occasion. Since early morning, a constant stream of carriages and horses had been passing through the Prime Minister's residence. The Imperial Censor personally wrote the elegiac couplet, the new emperor sent eunuchs to deliver the eulogy, and his colleagues from the Hanlin Academy, dressed in plain clothes, recited his poems and essays before the coffin. Su Jinli, clad in dark mourning clothes, knelt before the coffin, clutching the polished bamboo piece of sugar painting in her hand, her eyes vacant as she stared at the photograph on the memorial tablet. The photo showed Jiang Yan in a purple robe, smiling gently, just as he had in life.

"Sister, I'm so sorry for your loss." Su Heng held her arm, but his eyes were red. The young marquis, who had always been noisy, now had a hoarse voice. "Jiang Yan... passed away peacefully."

Su Qingyao handed the warm ginseng tea to her lips, her eyes red: "Jinli, eat something. You haven't slept for three days."

Su Jinli shook her head, her eyes never leaving the memorial tablet. Next to Jiang Yan's portrait lay a freshly painted phoenix in sugar. It had been made by a veteran artist Xiaoyue had specially invited from the front street. The sheen of the sugar syrup was remarkably similar to the one from fifty years ago.

Xiaoyue knelt beside her, clutching the corner of her clothes and whispering, "Grandma, did Grandpa go somewhere far away to buy sugar paintings?"

Su Jinli looked down at her granddaughter's eyes, which resembled Jiang Yan's, and suddenly remembered that when Jiang Yan was confused, he would always say "I'm going to buy a sugar painting." Her tears fell again, but she forced a smile. "Yes, Grandpa went to buy the biggest and most beautiful phoenix sugar painting. I'll give it to Grandma when I get it back."

After the funeral, Su Jinli locked herself in her bedroom, refusing to be disturbed. The scent of Jiang Yan still lingered in the room. On the desk lay his unfinished manuscript of a poem, the ink in the inkstone long since dried. She would often sit there for entire days, clutching the bamboo slip in her hand, talking to the empty armchair.

"Jiang Yan, Xiaoyueer changed her couplets into doggerel again today. It looks just like when I was young."

"Jiang Yan, that old guy Su Heng is bragging to his grandchildren again, saying that he was the one who knocked you out so that I could marry you."

"Jiang Yan, I passed by West Street today and saw Old Man Zhang's grandson setting up a stall. The sugar paintings still had the same flavor as they did back then..."

Until that night, she had a clear dream.

My dear, there is more to this chapter. Please click on the next page to continue reading. It will be even more exciting later!