This is a world where she doesn't exist.
In this world, Zhan Xinjia died at the age of seven, and Zhan Yinshu joined the army to avenge his sister, ultimately dying on the battlefield.
The Zhan family suffered a devastating blow from the successive deaths of their children. One of them went mad and would stand at the city gate, stopping everyone he met to ask if they had seen his little Zhi and A-Jian, saying that his mother had bought them candy and made them new clothes. The other, due to years of running around, suffered a relapse of his chronic illness and old injuries, and passed away early.
When Yan Hui ascended the throne, he was constantly restrained by Yan Wuju, who was under Pei Yi's control. Frustrated and disillusioned, the young emperor became increasingly sensitive and suspicious, spending his days drinking and seeking pleasure, having long forgotten his original aspirations.
Yan Xiyue was forced into a political marriage and was escorted out of the country by General Fu Shouan. She then went into seclusion in the mountains and never returned to the capital to see her disappointing brother again.
Now, it has been nineteen years since the death of seven-year-old Zhan Xinjia...
Zhan Xinjia felt a terrible headache; the painful memories were pushing her to the brink of mental collapse.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to her knees in the heavy snow, clutching her throbbing head, gasping for breath, trying desperately to calm herself. She kept telling herself that everything was fake, that it was all just a dream that "Pei Yi" wanted her to see.
It's just a dream, not reality. It'll be fine once I wake up...
Don't go crazy, don't go crazy, everyone is still waiting for you. Greetings.
After regaining her composure, she forced herself to stand up and stared blankly at the vast, snow-covered world before her.
Since this is just a dream, then... what about Lord Shen?
Perhaps it was because she said those words aloud that the woman next to her, who was holding her child and chatting with her neighbor, was startled and looked at her with a puzzled expression.
"Huh? Young lady, you look unfamiliar. Are you here to visit relatives or look for someone? We don't have a Master Shen in this town, but we do have a Taoist priest named Shen."
The proprietress selling wine leaned against the counter and gave a smiling reminder.
"Cui Niang, are you confused? Wasn't Master Shen an official in the capital ten years ago?"
"Yes! Look at my memory."
The woman, known as Cui Niang, smiled, patted the child in her arms, and then let out a soft sigh, her expression filled with sorrow.
"To be honest, this Taoist priest Shen is quite pitiful. He was originally an advisor to the crown prince, enjoying great success and a bright future, but one year he suddenly went mad for no apparent reason..."
"Are you crazy?!"
Zhan Xinjia looked up in surprise.
A wave of darkness and dizziness washed over her, and she felt as if her heart was being squeezed tightly, making it almost impossible to breathe.
Cui Niang didn't notice the girl's subtle expression and continued her story, her tone full of sympathy and emotion.
"Yes, General Zhan's youngest daughter died young, but Master Shen insisted that she was still alive and that she had agreed to marry him. Later, he caused a scene at the palace and forced his way into the general's mansion, stubbornly searching for someone who had died at the age of seven..."
What is this if not madness?
Later, General Zhan couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so he led him to see the lonely grave of his youngest daughter under the pear tree.
Since then, Master Shen has gone completely mad. He gave up his official post, lost his senses, and kept muttering things like "paper, paper," and left the capital to search for people everywhere...
The wine shop owner next to her sighed and chimed in.
"Later, he came to our small town. Some merchants from Yaozhou City recognized him as a Taoist priest at Sanqing Temple for several years, so we started calling him Master Shen."
Cui Niang forced a smile, "Although Master Shen is a bit eccentric, his handwriting is exceptionally beautiful! We all like to ask him to write letters home; he makes a living from it..."
But strangely, even if he earned money, he would only use it to buy more writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones…
Upon hearing this, Zhan Xinjia, whose mind had gone blank, staggered a few steps and could barely stand.
How could this be, how could this be...
In a daze, she didn't know who bumped into her from behind. She had just steadied herself by holding onto the shelf next to her when she heard a clear "Excuse me, please pass" in her ear, and it felt like a lifetime had passed.
Almost unable to suppress the sob in her throat, Zhan Xinjia's pupils were unfocused, and she turned around slowly to look at him with despair and disbelief.
The young man before me was still wearing the lightest blue robe I remembered, but the once spotless robe was now stained with mud. He had his head down, holding a bamboo cane in his hand, and his eyes were covered with cotton white cloth.
He was no longer the aloof and refined Grand Tutor Shen of the past.
No longer the proud and spirited scholar who topped the imperial examinations, wearing a red robe and riding a white horse, galloping through the flying blossoms.
He was no longer the solemn and dignified Lord Shen who would always smile and hug her.
Now, his back is bent and hunched from years of using a bamboo cane to find his way. Dressed in plain clothes and old robes, he walks through the crowd like a bright pearl that has fallen into the mud and become obscured by dust, blending into the crowd.
In the heavy snow, in the bustling city, amidst the hustle and bustle of life, I brushed past her.
Because he was blind, he could only move slowly and awkwardly by relying on his hearing and an old bamboo cane.
The woman was still talking quietly to herself.
"A few years ago, I heard that a child abduction case was solved in Jiangyuan County, and many girls who had gone missing when they were young were rescued."
Master Shen was unwilling to let go of any clue that might lead him to his wife, who only existed in his imagination. On his way to find her, he was caught in a landslide caused by a torrential rain. He was hit on the head by falling rocks, and the bruising pressed against his eyes, causing him to go blind...
Zhan Xinjia could no longer hear what the woman said next.
She felt a sharp ringing in her ears, filled with jarring noise. Her eyes, red from the pain, gradually blurred. She frantically wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve, wiping them again and again. She opened her eyes wide, trying to make out every word that broke her heart, but in vain she could only see the other person's lips opening and closing, and then there was no sound.
In the end, ignoring her injured leg, she stumbled and chased after the receding figure.
The sky grew increasingly gloomy, with leaden clouds hanging down, darkly obscuring the last ray of pale sunset light.
The snow fell heavier and deeper, but Zhan Xinjia could hardly feel the cold. Her legs were numb and she lost all feeling. She just kept walking forward, staggering, with a stubborn belief, even though she was in a daze.
Don't leave me, don't leave me...
Standing blankly in the snowy night, Zhan Xinjia stared at the small wooden house with its candlelight, her heart aching terribly.
Why light a lamp when you can't see anything?
Lord Shen, who are you waiting for? Who are you waiting for to come back?
I carefully pushed open the door. The dimly lit, cramped room was covered with scattered letters, leaving almost no room to step.
Some of the pages are yellowed and old, looking quite old. The handwriting on them is messy and disordered, indicating that he wrote them when he first lost his sight. At that time, he was not used to writing blindly and could only rely on his memory to figure things out little by little.
Later, his handwriting became much neater, and he could write every letter without needing his eyes.
I bent down and casually picked up one of the papers. Although my handwriting wasn't as elegant as it used to be, I wrote the three characters "Greetings, dear reader" with unusual care.
She picked up another sheet, then countless sheets, clutching those discarded papers to her chest as if they were precious treasures.
In every letter, the opening phrase "Hope you find this letter well" is written with the most emphasis.
He wrote letters home for others not to make a living, but simply to have a legitimate reason to repeatedly write those three words, those three words that he absolutely could not forget.
Greetings, greetings, greetings...
Even if a letter cannot be sent, he still hopes that one day the recipient will read it with good wishes.
The letters in her arms fell one by one, and Zhan Xinjia looked at the young man sitting at the table piled with messy letters, still numbly writing letters. She squatted down, covered her face, and could no longer hold back her emotions that had reached the extreme. She broke down in tears and cried almost hoarsely.
Hearing the crying, the young man slowly raised his head, as if trying to discern through the cloth covering his eyes who had come to visit so late at night.
But all he could see was darkness, and apart from the heart-wrenching cries, he could not perceive anything.
His heart clenched and ached. He took a deep breath, groped for the bamboo cane leaning against the side, and slowly stood up, supporting himself on the table. He walked slowly and laboriously toward the direction from which the crying was coming.
Even though he was blind and unable to see, he was still able to avoid the letters scattered on the ground, carefully circling around them.
I didn't step on a single one.
"Who is it? Are they in some kind of trouble?"
As he said this, the young man reached for a low cabinet to the side, took out some loose copper coins and silver coins, held them in his palm, and handed them over.
"No matter what happened, take these and use them first. Don't cry."
Shen Suqing is still the same gentle and kind Shen Suqing. He is willing to help anyone in distress, even if he himself is in trouble. He still cannot bear to see others suffer.
Zhan Xinjia didn't reach out to take it. She wiped away her tears, stood up, took a deep breath, and tried to suppress the sob in her throat.
Even though he could no longer see, she still showed a smile that was more painful than crying, her trembling fingers holding his hand, tightening their grip inch by inch as the young man looked on in astonishment, until their hands were completely clasped.
The sounds were broken and discordant, intermittent and disjointed.
"I... am back, Lord Shen."
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