Old friends meet, reminiscing about the past and reflecting on the present.

In the spring of Jiangnan, a fine drizzle fell, dampening the bluestone slabs of the courtyard and nourishing the rice paddies outside. Shen Chengyou was helping his grandchildren, Shen Si'an and Shen Si'ning, identify medicinal herbs in the yard, while Wang Ruoxi sewed sachets under the eaves. The air was filled with the fragrance of mugwort and flowers. Suddenly, a familiar knock came from outside the gate, accompanied by an aged yet resonant voice: "Is Minister Shen home?"

Shen Chengyou looked up and saw an elderly man with white hair and beard standing at the door, dressed in a plain long robe, looking vigorous and spirited. It was General Zhao, who had fought alongside him against the Khitan on the border years ago. He quickly stepped forward and bowed, saying, "General Zhao! It's been so many years, what brings you here?"

General Zhao laughed heartily and walked into the courtyard: "After retiring, I returned to my hometown in Jiangnan. I heard that you also retired here, so I came to pay you a special visit today." The two sat down on the stone bench. Wang Ruoxi served tea and snacks. General Zhao took a sip of the warm pre-rain Longjing tea in front of him, his gaze sweeping over the peonies blooming in front of the steps. The frost at his temples was particularly clear in the sunlight. He put down his teacup and sighed deeply: "Back then at Yanmen Pass, I saw you as a weak scholar, unable to even kill a chicken, and thought you were just a burden sent by the court. Who knew that you were not only well-versed in military strategy, but you could also eat dry rations and sleep in cold tents with the soldiers without the slightest bit of fuss. That night, the Khitans launched a night attack. If it weren't for your composure in the face of danger and your use of the 'fire attack feint' to force the enemy to retreat, we would probably have been wiped out in that Gobi Desert."

Shen Chengyou picked up the tea whisk and gently stirred the foam in the bowl, a warm smile appearing in his eyes: "General Zhao, you flatter me. Theory without practice is ultimately superficial. If it weren't for the soldiers' desperate execution, my plan would have been nothing but empty talk. I should thank you, though. When I first entered the army, many generals were unconvinced, but you, despite your doubts, always followed the plan. This understanding of the bigger picture and your consideration for the overall situation were the key to victory."

Before she finished speaking, Wang Ruoxi came over carrying a gilded lacquer tray. The osmanthus cakes on the tray were neatly arranged, their golden surfaces sprinkled with fine powdered sugar, and their aroma was sweet and lingering. "General Zhao, please try this. This is Chengyou's favorite dessert. I learned how to make it from the local women back when we were at the border." She handed the lacquer tray to the stone table, her fingertips tracing the lotus scroll pattern on the rim. "Back then, resources were scarce, and sugar was rare, so we could only use honey for flavoring. Now that life is better, we can make it more refined."

General Zhao picked up a piece and put it in his mouth. The sweet and glutinous taste, mixed with the fragrance of osmanthus, melted on his tongue, instantly stirring up long-forgotten memories. His eyes welled up slightly, and his voice was a little hoarse: "It still tastes the same! Back in the army camp, a piece of osmanthus cake would be fought over by the brothers. Every time you sent us cakes, they became treasures to boost morale. Madam Wang's cooking skills are even more to the liking of us rough men than those of the imperial chefs."

The three sat around a stone table, chatting about the endless sandstorms on the border, the military songs sung around the campfire late at night, and the strong liquor drunk after victories. They also talked about the brothers who were forever left behind at the border. General Zhao stroked the old sword at his waist, the bronze ornaments on the scabbard long since oxidized and blackened. "Those young faces," he said, "some had just come of age, some hadn't even had a chance to start a family. If they could see this peaceful and prosperous world, and eat the osmanthus cakes of these peaceful days, they could die in peace."

Shen Chengyou looked solemn and put down his teacup, saying, "It is precisely because they gave their lives for peace that we must protect this land even more. Now that my children and grandchildren have grown up, I often tell them, never forget the blood shed by our ancestors on the battlefield, never fail to appreciate the hard-won prosperity, and never lose the patriotism that the Shen family has passed down through generations."

As the sun set, its afterglow filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows that stretched the three figures long. General Zhao rose and straightened his robes, the sword at his waist clanging softly: "Minister Shen, Madam Wang, today's gathering has fulfilled a long-cherished wish of mine. Take care, and when the chrysanthemums bloom next year, I will bring you a jar of fine wine from the border."

Mr. and Mrs. Shen saw him off at the door, watching his departing figure as the dust kicked up by his hooves gradually dissipated at the end of the alley. Wang Ruoxi gently took her husband's arm and whispered, "Twenty years have passed in the blink of an eye. The black hair of yesteryear has turned white."

Looking at the still lush flowers and trees in the courtyard, Shen Chengyou softly replied, "Time may pass, but our original aspirations remain unchanged. Those days of war and chaos may be long gone, but they are forever etched in our hearts and in the peace and tranquility of this vast land."