On the eve of Qingming Festival, a silky spring rain, like the gentle plucking of nature's harp, fell softly, wetting the snow-white pear blossoms in the backyard of the prime minister's residence. Each pear blossom, adorned with glistening raindrops, swayed gently in the breeze, as if silently expressing a faint sorrow.
At the kitchen door of the prime minister's residence, Su Xiang squatted quietly, his eyes fixed intently on a basket of freshly baked jujube paste cakes, his face thick with worry. The cakes exuded an alluring sweet aroma, steam rising slowly in the humid air, but Su Xiang had no interest in appreciating them. "This cake is too sweet! Your mother doesn't like sweet food," he muttered to himself, gently wiping away the delicate layer of frosting on the cake's surface with his fingertips. His movements were gentle and careful, as if he were handling a priceless treasure. A hint of flour accidentally stained his sleeve, a testament to his having risen in the early morning to personally prepare the offerings for the ancestral worship.
Su Jinli quietly walked over to Su Xiang, handing him a bamboo basket filled with pickled chilies she'd meticulously prepared to her mother's taste. These pickles, vibrant in color and emitting a unique spicy aroma, blended with the sweet fragrance that permeated the air. For the first time since her rebirth, she called out "Dad," her voice soft and gentle, almost inaudible like the rain outside the window. Yet, this seemingly feeble sound struck Su Xiang's heart like a hammer.
Su Xiang suddenly raised his head, his mottled white hair trembling slightly in the rain, like autumn grass in the wind, revealing the vicissitudes of life. He almost dropped the jujube paste cake in his hands, overwhelmed by the sudden surprise and emotion. His eyes locked with Su Jinli, filled with a complex mix of surprise, emotion, and the instant ignition of a long-suppressed family affection.
"Sister, Grandfather said we need weapons for ancestral worship!" At this tender moment, Young Marquis Su came running over like a gust of wind, carrying a small, gilded axe. The axe's blade gleamed with a cool light in the rain, and the red silk hanging from it fluttered gently in the breeze like dancing flames. "I also brought Grandma her favorite copy of 'Investiture of the Gods'!" His face shone with pride, his innocence as if Grandma could immediately see his carefully prepared gift.
Su Qingyao followed behind with a leisurely, light step. She held aloft a vermilion lacquer lunch box, its surface gleaming softly from the rain. "Knowing mother doesn't like sweet things, I specially mixed a rouge called 'Lemon After the Rain' as an offering. It's much better than the vulgar things Liu gave her," she said, gently opening the lunch box. Inside, a mother-of-pearl inlaid rouge pen lay quietly, its shaft meticulously carved with a lotus pattern. The delicate lines seemed to tell a moving story. The mother-of-pearl shimmered in a rainbow of colors, reflecting the light, adding a unique touch of color to the slightly melancholic atmosphere.
Jiang Yan walked over steadily, holding Si Yan in his arms. The little guy was holding his precious abacus tightly in his arms, as if the abacus was his most precious companion. "Dad, I calculated that it takes 3,200 steps from the Prime Minister's Mansion to the cemetery!" Si Yan's voice was clear and loud, full of a child's innocence and pride. Nian Li tightly grasped the corner of Jiang Yan's clothes, holding high in her hand a string of chili candies, the bright colors of which were particularly eye-catching in the rain. "This is for grandma, spicy candies!" Her eyes were sparkling, full of longing for her deceased grandmother.
The crowd weaved through the spring rain, slowly moving toward the ancestral worship ceremony. Along the way, the rain continued to patter, hitting the ground and creating tiny splashes of water. These splashes resembled blooming crystal flowers, fleeting yet constantly blooming, as if nature were playing a unique melody for this ancestral worship ceremony.
Su Xiang walked in front, his steps heavy, each one akin to a profound yearning for his late wife. Though he'd carefully adjusted the sweetness of the jujube paste cake in his hand, the thought of love remained unwavering. His gaze fixed ahead, his thoughts drifting back to the beautiful times he'd shared with his wife. Those joyful moments, those days and nights spent together, had now become the most precious yet painful memories in his heart.
Su Jinli followed closely behind Su Xiang, her gaze fixed on his slightly hunched back, a mixture of emotions welling up within her. Reborn, she had a deeper appreciation for familial affection. Seeing Su Xiang's dedication to ancestral worship, a wave of warmth welled up within her. The bamboo basket in her hands held not only the pickled chilies but also the yearning and guilt she felt for her mother. Perhaps she had failed to fulfill her due filial duty to her mother during her lifetime, but now, she hoped this carefully prepared offering would convey her deep love to her mother in heaven.
Young Marquis Su, carrying a gilded axe, bounded along, his cheerful steps contrasting sharply with the somewhat solemn atmosphere. Yet, his innocent eyes betrayed his deep respect and love for his grandmother. He imagined her delighted expression upon reading the Investiture of the Gods, and a slight smile rose from his lips. In his heart, his grandmother would always be the kind old woman who would tell him legendary stories. Even in death, this kinship never faded.
Su Qingyao walked quietly, her gaze occasionally falling on the vermilion lacquer lunch box in her hands. She had painstakingly crafted that "Lime After the Rain" rouge. She knew her mother's pursuit of beauty, and her disdain for vulgarity. Therefore, she hoped that this unique rouge would preserve her mother's beauty in the afterlife. The vermilion lacquer on the lunch box, washed by the rain, seemed to speak of her deep longing for her mother.
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