Changming

During the Qingming Festival, the rain falls in torrents. The fine drizzle weaves a cloth, adding a touch of haziness to the gray sky. Dry Beijing welcomes a rare period of humidity in the year.

"Mom, are we going to the temple tomorrow?" Lin Xihui had just finished practicing the piano, and was gently wiping the instrument with a soft cloth in her hand. "It's a good time to take my piano to get it serviced."

"Okay, just leave it to the housekeeper. Someone will get it back for you. If you're really in a hurry, you can go get it yourself after you come back from the temple tomorrow." Jiang Moyun agreed casually, but she seemed preoccupied and absent-minded.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Lin Xihui asked worriedly.

"It's nothing, I always feel a little uneasy around this time of year." Jiang Moyun brushed off the topic, not wanting to say more about it.

"Mom, you really should take a good rest. My sister is handling things at work, and she's been running things for so many years. Ms. Jiang, you should worry less about things, or you might end up with gray hair." Lin Xihui put down her zither, went behind her, and gently massaged her to help her relax.

“You can’t count on him anyway,” Jiang Moyun said casually, closing her eyes. “It’s always better to have someone helping you out.”

When she took over the company in a panic, few of her relatives and acquaintances were willing to help. In order to save the company, she had to agree to many unreasonable conditions and only gained a handful of "allies," which severely damaged her business.

Later, after she gained a foothold, she worked hard little by little to make up for most of the losses. She certainly didn't want Ciqing to go through the hardships she had endured, nor did she need Ciqing to be able to revive the family business. She only wished for peace, happiness, and good health.

If her parents and sister blame her from beyond the grave, she will bear it alone. Those long-rotted past events are best left for her to remember alone; there's no need to add to the sorrow of others.

Suddenly, I felt a warm touch on my shoulder.

"Mo Yun, are you feeling unwell?" Lin Bairan asked with concern, bending down to examine her expression.

A faint warmth welled up in her heart. She gently squeezed Lin Bairan's hand on her shoulder and forced a smile. "I'm probably just a little tired. I'll be fine after a rest. The flowers in the greenhouse haven't been watered yet. Go check on them later."

"Okay, don't worry, I'll take good care of you." Lin Bairan helped her to her room and then told Lin Xihui to go find the housekeeper to make her a cup of warm flower tea. He took the tea and chatted with Jiang Moyun for a few more minutes. Seeing that she wasn't in a good mood, he left the door slightly ajar and left the room with Lin Xihui.

Jiang Moyun sat in a rocking chair, a thin blanket covering her lap, gazing quietly through the huge French windows at the lush greenery under the rain, her thoughts already far away—

When did it start?

Lin Bairan no longer called her "sister," but instead addressed her respectfully as "Moyun." His demeanor had become increasingly mature and reliable, and Jiang Moyun could hardly find any trace of his former self. Sometimes, she would vaguely feel that Lin Bairan was imitating someone—his tone of voice and mannerisms, these extremely subtle habits, were remarkably similar to Wen Yushen. But he shouldn't know this; it must just be a coincidence. Jiang Moyun felt uneasy about her brief momentary confusion. She should have completely forgotten the past long ago, and she shouldn't have confused the two of them.

Even the briefest and slightest association should not be made.

When did her attention begin to surpass that of Lin Bairan in the greenhouse? Was this a way for her to alleviate her guilt, or was Lin Bairan also gradually losing interest?

Could this be the reason why Lin Bairan no longer calls her "sister"? Could it be... could it be that in her years of running away, she has already exhausted Lin Bairan's love with her own hands?

But... but what's the point of thinking about these things?

Whether you love someone or not is nothing more than fleeting clouds in the sky, the most ephemeral thing in the world, so why bother to fantasize about grasping it?

She was a sinner deprived of the right to die, so why bother talking about these things? In the end, it was she who wronged him…

I wonder if Lin Bairan regrets turning back that day and having that ill-timed encounter with her in the screening room. Looking back on the past twenty years with Lin Bairan, she has truly been an extremely unfit lover—unresponsive, silent, and uncommitted.

Driven by her own vile greed, she kept Lin Bairan by her side for twenty years out of sheer avarice. From childhood to adulthood, she never managed to shake off her selfish and self-serving nature.

Jiang Moyun had seen too much filth. Love words were nothing more than jokes that adults could hear everywhere, yet were extremely precious. What people eternally pursued was nothing more than sensual pleasures, money, and power.

Seeking fame and fortune, scheming and plotting... what's wrong with anything as long as the goal is achieved? It's nothing more than one dirty deal after another, a "mutually agreed" transaction.

As for "sincerity"?

"Sincerity" is the least valuable thing in all of this.

But Jiang Moyun always remembered that she had let Lin Bairan down. His confusion at that time became a vortex that she could not escape in her midnight dreams.

She picked up the slightly cool floral tea beside her, took a sip, and felt the delicate fragrance of jasmine and its lingering bitterness rise between her lips and teeth. It was as if the beautiful spring scenery would also be followed by the earthy smell of rainwater after this dampness, and beneath the ubiquitous new life was a series of decaying and withering into mud, year after year, the distinction between life and death was blurred.

Even the vibrant life that the world praises to the extreme cannot be pure. What is gone is gone forever. Flowers will bloom again every year, but they will never be the same ones as yesterday.

That flower that withered yesterday, no matter how much nourishment it receives or how much time it takes, will never bear fruit today. Its former fragrance will ultimately be nothing more than a hazy silhouette in memory, lacking detail, and will eventually fade with time. Only the most foolish flower-viewers will repeatedly and futilely try to depict the vibrant outline of a flower in full bloom, attempting to recreate its former splendor…

I don't want to think about it anymore.

If I could do it all over again...

She knew better than anyone that even if she could do it all over again, the outcome would be the same as it is now.

Since it was a decision made long ago, why bother with this pretentious act of repeated self-reflection?

Jiang Moyun once again despised her own hypocrisy.

The rain outside the window had stopped, and she lay on the gently swaying rocking chair, silently waiting for the next rain to fall.

——

Lin Bairan was watering the flowers in the greenhouse. He was in a pretty good mood, and his movements were light and quick. With the gardener taking care of them regularly, all the flowers here were blooming beautifully. Just looking at them was a pleasure, not to mention the pleasant fragrance that surrounded him.

If the gardener hadn't taken the past two days off, he probably wouldn't have had the chance to properly appreciate the flowers like this. His gaze suddenly fell on a few bare flower branches, and he paused for a moment, then realized—it was probably that little brat Lin Xihui who had secretly picked them again, who knows which girl he'd used them to win over.

He had heard some of the rumors about Lin Xihui at school, and had worried about it for a long time, reflecting on how he had raised his child to be such a playboy. Had he spoiled him too much? But when it came to him, no one could bring themselves to be harsh with him.

In the end, they just called him in and gave him a few perfunctory words of advice, telling him to take relationships more seriously. Who knew that Lin Xihui would deny it, saying that she had always treated him well, but later she didn't like him anymore, so naturally they should part amicably, and there was no need to continue to entangle themselves.

"I didn't play with anyone's feelings. It was all consensual." Lin Xihui muttered, her words clearly showing her disapproval of him.

Lin Bairan was quite troubled. This child was really stubborn. Once he made up his mind about something, no amount of persuasion from others could change his mind.

It's unclear whether she inherited it from someone else or if Ciqing is just naturally easy to manage; she's been well-behaved and sensible since childhood. However, she's a bit too unambitious. A few months ago, she actually took the initiative to propose a marriage alliance, and they got engaged in a flurry of activity. This gave both him and Jiang Moyun a real shock. They hurriedly called her home, only to find out it was just a business collaboration that would be canceled afterward, which put their minds at ease.

These two children are truly a case of one being desperately thirsty while the other is drowning in wealth. Xi Hui is still young, so there's no rush for now. As for Ci Qing, after discussing it with Jiang Moyun, they decided to respect her own wishes. With their financial situation, they're not worried about retirement, though they might feel a bit lonely. But if it's Ci Qing's own choice, there's no need to say anything more. They're afraid that if they say too much, Ci Qing might suddenly bring someone back one day and tell them she's planning to get married, and even discuss some business opportunities along the way.

Lin Bairan stopped dwelling on these issues, picked up a pair of scissors from the side, and planned to arrange a new bouquet of flowers. People always like beautiful things, and perhaps this would cheer Jiang Moyun up.

Tomorrow we're going to pay respects to our deceased relatives. My heart always feels heavy at times like this. Every year, Lin Bairan accompanies Jiang Moyun to place two bouquets of flowers at their graves, then quietly leaves, leaving her time alone with her loved ones.

The place was far from large, yet four people slept peacefully. Such a heavy past, yet no one could share her burden, only offering meager companionship and solace. Lin Bairan knew little about their deaths, only vaguely knowing that her sister and brother-in-law had died in a car accident, and her father had also perished in the accident, unable to bear the grief. They all died too young, leaving Jiang Moyun alone. Long before they met, she had already been walking alone for a long time.

...

Lin Bairan had been somewhat restless all day, and this inexplicable emotion was hard to explain. After presenting the flowers with Jiang Moyun, he quietly stepped aside, leaving Jiang Moyun with her alone.

Looking at her slender figure standing before the monument, Lin Bairan couldn't help but be deeply moved by her profound sorrow. She rarely showed grief in their presence, usually glossing over it lightly. She always maintained a calm and reliable image, methodically completing her work. It seemed nothing could defeat her; she seemed tireless, fearless, and never considered giving up. As if driven by an unstoppable force, she tirelessly moved forward.

It wasn't until Ci Qing had essentially taken over the company in recent years that Jiang Moyun finally got a moment's respite. As a result, the pent-up fatigue from the past surged back in exponentially, and within just a few days, several gray hairs appeared at her temples.

Lin Bairan longed to know her past, for knowing would be a form of unspoken sympathy. But Jiang Moyun always remained silent, and he didn't want to press her; forcing someone to reopen their wounds would be too cruel. But then, no one in the world could share her sorrow… no, there was someone, Lin Bairan thought.

Looking at it this way, the connection between that person and her is truly too numerous to sever. When he was young, Lin Bairan always harbored a sense of hope, thinking that as long as he spent enough time, he would one day surpass that person and one day Jiang Moyun would open her heart to him... But he was already getting old, twenty years of his short life had already passed, and how many more twenty years did he have left to wait?

What exactly was it about him that moved Jiang Moyun?

A beautiful appearance?

Even with meticulous care, no one can escape the inevitable decline in appearance. At forty-three, still considered by others to be in his prime, he may be able to maintain a balance with age and preserve his radiant appearance. But what about five years from now? Ten years from now? Youth will eventually fade, and what will become of him then? The abilities he once took pride in will be quietly taken away by time, and in the torrent of time, everyone is equally insignificant.

Or perhaps she was moved by his sincerity?

Wouldn't his clumsy imitation backfire? But this was a last resort, a desperate measure, and he had no way to bridge the chasm that time had created between him and Jiang Moyun. Substitution was impossible, imitation was out of the question, so how could I possibly reach you, and how could I earn your respect?

Lin Bairan always tells himself to be content, but he can never do it. He is just an ordinary person with the same uncontrollable greed as the general public.

No one can resist the urge to possess your warmth after receiving it. Why can't you look at me? Why can't you only look at me?

Is Ciqing your child with him?

Do you still love him?

Will you love me?

I don't want to think about it anymore, I don't want to care anymore.

None of that matters, as long as you're willing to look at me, don't take your eyes off me. I don't need your love anymore, just look at me, since I'm the only one by your side now, aren't I? No matter how much of a past he has with you, no matter how many unbreakable ties they have, the only one by your side now is me, only me.

Over the years, Jiang Moyun had very little contact with Wen Yushen, or rather, almost none at all. The only time was seventeen years ago, the day Jiang Moyun got drunk and told him he wanted a child. This was also the first time Lin Bairan learned of Wen Yushen's existence; at that time, they had just been married for a little over two months, and Lin Bairan was still blissfully unaware.

It was probably because their meeting that afternoon was too rushed that unscrupulous reporters seized the opportunity, following them and taking photos of them, which they then used to blackmail them. After the meeting that day, Jiang Moyun went home and got completely drunk. Her assistant couldn't contact her, so she contacted Lin Bairan.

His assistant told him that the other party was a very famous dancer and Jiang Moyun's former dance partner, who probably wanted to use these photos for publicity. After looking at them, Lin Bairan found that they were all normal photos, and there was nothing overly intimate about them. But he also knew that Jiang Moyun didn't want to talk too much about her past, so he simply asked his assistant to send the reporter away and told him not to tell Jiang Moyun about it, and then he casually destroyed the photos.

Back then, the word "only" hadn't been added before "former dance partner," and Lin Bairan had no idea what kind of heartfelt vow the extra trophy in his home carried.

There were almost no belongings of relatives in the house, which Lin Bairan assumed was to avoid triggering painful memories. He knew the Jiang family had an old house and thought everything was there. However, Jiang Moyun had only returned once in all these years, shortly after their marriage.

It was Lin Bairan who suggested that she wanted to see the place where Jiang Moyun lived as a child. "Is that alright, sister?"

Jiang Moyun took him there, expecting to see many old things from his memories, but to his surprise, the huge house was only furnished with some wooden furniture and was otherwise empty, with almost no trace of anyone having lived there.

There must be someone coming to maintain this place regularly, but since no one lives here, a thin, even layer of dust has inevitably settled on it. Jiang Moyun would occasionally tell him some funny stories from her childhood: like how she fed the koi in this pond to death, or how she hid on this artificial hill for an afternoon and wasn't found... and so on. She always had a smile on her face, and her tone sounded gentle and nostalgic.

Lin Bairan suddenly regretted it. He shouldn't have touched on Jiang Moyun's chronic illness out of curiosity, even if he was just asking, even if Jiang Moyun didn't mind.

He didn't want to see her forced smile anymore, and he didn't want her to go against her will and touch that painful past again, no matter what or who it was for.

Why is the power of language so barren? All Lin Bairan could do was silently take her hand, always ready to catch the sadness in Jiang Moyun's eyes.

But Jiang Moyun just smiled.

Lin Bairan never asked about the past again after that.

Until that day when he saw the photo at his aunt's place, his aunt seemed a little flustered and awkward when he asked her about it.

Lin Bairan didn't press the matter, but he didn't miss the unusual detail either, keeping it quietly in mind. He subtly inquired with his aunt several times, but unsurprisingly, he didn't get an answer.

He was so curious that he began to investigate based on the few words his aunt had inadvertently revealed.

Many times, "ignorance" may be a blessing.

So that's how it is. No wonder the reporter went to all that trouble just to take a few insignificant photos. Lin Bairan tried hard to recall the actions and expressions of the two people in those photos, trying to figure out whether their relationship was just the familiarity of old friends meeting again after many years, or the ambiguous lingering feelings between former lovers.

But he didn't examine it closely at the time; all that remained of the photo was a blurry smile on Jiang Moyun's face. What kind of smile was it? Was it polite and distant, or lingering and reluctant...? No matter what it was, it was jarringly unsettling.

That blurred smile became a warning bell, a constant reminder of a past he could never reach. Perhaps he shouldn't be so suspicious of Jiang Moyun, after all, they had only met once in decades. But Lin Bairan simply couldn't. He didn't even dare to ask, accustomed to walking on thin ice in each cautious attempt, boldly expressing his love only to anxiously decipher Jiang Moyun's every word. But in the end, he was overwhelmed by this unrequited love, becoming base and narrow-minded—like the smallest, most pitiful worm in a dark corner, eternally trapped in this small world, pursuing an unsolvable question…

Jiang Moyun finished her prayers and walked towards him. Lin Bairan quickly composed himself, took two steps forward, naturally put his arm around her, and said gently, "Let's go, it's time to rekindle this year's eternal lamp."

Jiang Moyun simply nodded silently and walked forward without saying a word. They relit the lamps and drew lots from the abbot. Lin Xihui and Jiang Ciqing said they wanted to visit their great-grandmother again, so Lin Bairan accompanied them.

Jiang Moyun didn't leave; she was waiting for the abbot to bring the blessed amulet—Lin Xihui was about to study abroad. Children grow up and eventually have to separate from their parents. Even though everything was prepared, the unease in her heart was still palpable. It was the same when Ci Qing went abroad; she had spent half a day chanting Buddhist scriptures and praying for blessings at this temple, supposedly the most efficacious in Beijing.

She had never believed in ghosts and spirits before, but in recent decades she had only been able to find solace in them. While waiting, she simply gazed at the dim candlelight on the stage, lost in thought—the light burning eternally, awaiting the return of her loved one.

But there is no true eternal light in this world, and she could not wait for her old friend to return home. Over the years, she had not even seen him in her dreams.

"Benefactor Jiang, here is your safety amulet."

The abbot brought the items, and Jiang Moyun thanked him, accepted them, and prepared to leave.

"Your brows are furrowed with worry, your heart heavy with sorrow. Is it because you are clinging to the past?" The abbot's words startled Jiang Moyun. Before she could speak, she heard him continue, "The past is but smoke and clouds. You should forget it."

Jiang Moyun stood there for a long time, then finally smiled softly, "Thank you, Master," and turned to leave.

She didn't really take those words to heart; forgetting isn't such an easy thing.

As they were leaving, Jiang Moyun only saw Lin Xihui at the door. While helping him put on a safety buckle, she asked where the other two had gone.

"My sister got a phone call, it seems there was an emergency at the company. Dad was worried she might get into trouble on the way, so he drove her there. He called a driver to come pick her up in another car, they should be here soon. Mom, I want to go get my violin, will you come with me?" Lin Xihui asked her with a smile, trying to coax her, making it hard to refuse.

Jiang Moyun felt a little better after seeing him, but she deliberately didn't answer and pretended to hesitate to tease him.

Sure enough, Lin Xihui looked anxious. "There's a place over there that sells really delicious egg waffles, and you have to eat them while they're hot. Freshly baked ones are absolutely divine! I'll treat you, they really are delicious, you have to believe me. Ms. Jiang, please come with me, please, please, please~"

"Alright, alright, let's go, let's go. You're just causing trouble all day long." She reached out and tapped Lin Xihui's forehead with a smile, pretending to scold her.

"Mom, you love me the most. I'm thinking of going out of my way to buy some small cakes, but the ones I get bought from others, even after being rebaked, aren't as delicious..."

"You're such a busybody."

"Then I'll tell the driver to go buy some small cakes first. I love you the most, thank you, Mom."

"I'm always craving something sweet."

...