Su Jinli walked over and watched the snow-white rice paper flicker in the shadows of the bamboo. The sunlight filtered through the window lattice, casting mottled shadows on the paper, like someone had scattered a handful of broken jade. "What are you writing?"
"Just write about our lives."
As Jiang Yan ground the ink, the pine soot ink swirls in the inkstone, its fragrance lingering. Su Jinli took the brush, the brush hair touching the paper, leaving a strong horizontal stroke. The force still carried the strength of a daughter of the prime minister's family, yet with a touch of the roundness polished by time. As she wrote the character "岁," her pen tip paused, recalling the overturned teacup at her coming-of-age banquet the year she was reborn. As she wrote the character "月," the arc she drew resembled the candied phoenix Jiang Yan had handed her.
"The years are quiet and good, and I will grow old together." Jiang Yan whispered beside her, his eyes falling on the wrist where she was writing. There was a shallow scar there, which was left when she saved Nian Li from being chased by a vicious dog. Now it has faded like a moon mark.
Su Jinli paused, looking up at him. The setting sun streamed through the bamboo window, gilding his gray hair. His eyes were as gentle as the spring waters of the south of the Yangtze River, even more profound than the ones he'd seen when he'd looked at her at the sugar painting stall. She nodded, shifted her brush, and wrote the final word, "old." The ink smudged across the rice paper, a perfect match for their aging yet deepening love, a perfect balance of light and dark.
"Grandma! Grandpa!" Pan'er pushed the door open and rushed in. Her face was stained with ink, having obviously been playing with Siyan's abacus. A broken bead rubbed against her nose. Nianli and Siyan followed behind her. Siyan still held the abacus in his hand, its beads gleaming in the twilight. The clinking of beads mixed with his hurried footsteps.
"Wow! Grandma's handwriting is so beautiful!" Pan'er climbed onto Su Jinli's knees, pointing her little finger at the vertical hook of the character "静" (quiet). "It's just like the stroke I practiced yesterday. The teacher even praised me!"
Nian Li came over to take a look, and the wooden sword accidentally hit the corner of the table, making a "dong" sound: "Mom, this handwriting is just like when you were young, cool! It's much better looking than the handwriting Si Yan calculated with an abacus."
Si Yan pushed his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose, and the abacus beads clicked rapidly, making a crisp sound: "Mom, Dad, I just calculated the expenses of this Yixi Residence, plus the cost of the wood for the plum blossom piles I just dismantled to make the swing, the total is..."
"Stop!" Su Jinli and Jiang Yan shouted at the same time, causing everyone to laugh. Pan'er was amused and giggled. Her pigtail brushed against Su Jinli's chin, tickling her so much that she couldn't help but tilt her head.
Pan'er touched the writing on the rice paper, looked up and asked, "Grandma, what does this mean?"
Su Jinli held her granddaughter in her arms, glancing at her husband, his hair tinged with gray, and then at her bickering children. Nianli was striking Siyan's abacus with a wooden sword, while Siyan was busy protecting it and trying to retort. Pan'er's laughter was as clear as a silver bell. She smiled and said, "It means that our family should stay together happily, just like we are now, like spring flowers and summer breezes, forever inseparable."
"Oh~" Pan'er nodded, not quite understanding, the red silk on her pigtail brushing against Su Jinli's cheek, "Then I want to be with my grandparents, my parents, and I'll always be there. When my uncle has a grandson, I'll teach him boxing!"
Si Yan immediately responded, the abacus beads bouncing between his fingers: "Of course! When I have a grandson, I will definitely bring him over and let him learn boxing from Pan Er, and then have him help me calculate the cost of the sugar painting..."
Nian Li rolled her eyes at him and tapped the edge of the abacus with her wooden sword. "Let's find a daughter-in-law first! Last time, you calculated the horoscope for Minister Wang's daughter for half a month, and she's already grown old!"
"Sister! Why are you exposing my shortcomings again!" Si Yan was so anxious that her face turned red and the abacus almost fell to the ground.
Watching her children laughing and playing, Su Jinli leaned on Jiang Yan's shoulder, listening to the wind in the bamboo forest. She suddenly remembered the time in her past life, lying on a sickbed in a cold courtyard, unable to even drink a bowl of hot soup. Now, the sun shone through the bamboo window, casting a warm glow on her body. She was surrounded by the person she had loved all her life, and before her were her children and grandchildren. The grievances of her past life had long since been transformed by time into honey, a sweetness that warmed her heart.
"Alright, alright," Jiang Yan smiled as he stood up and helped Su Jinli up. His sleeves swept across the table, bringing with them the scent of ink. "Stop arguing and let's eat. I asked the kitchen to make your favorite sweet and sour pork ribs today, as well as the osmanthus cake Pan'er requested, with freshly picked osmanthus honey."
"Yeah!" Pan'er cheered and grabbed Su Jinli's hand. The ink spots on her little hand rubbed against her skirt, like a few fallen plum blossoms. "Grandma, I want to eat three big pieces of pork ribs, and pour a full spoonful of osmanthus honey on them!"
"Little greedy cat!" Su Jinli scratched her nose and let her granddaughter pull her out, the pearls on her hairpin swaying gently with each step. Jiang Yan followed behind, watching the red gold hairpin in his wife's hair gleam in the twilight. He suddenly remembered the first time he met her. She was just as bright and flamboyant, like a beam of light, illuminating his years of poverty. From then on, every year was a warm spring.
He looked back at the painting on the wall, then at Su Jinli's inscription: "The years are quiet and good, and I will grow old with you." He carefully peeled off the rice paper and prepared to find a suitable place to frame it. These eight words were a love letter they had spent their entire lives writing, sweeter than any sugar painting, more precious than all the gold in the world. Every stroke was soaked with the warmth of time, every stroke was engraved with the promise of staying together.
Outside the bamboo forest, Nian Li was still playing with Chen Yue. The clatter of Si Yan's abacus and Pan Er's laughter blended together, drifting toward the distant green hills. Jiang Yan quickened his pace to catch up with his wife and children. The setting sun stretched their shadows far and wide, overlapping them like a never-fading painting, telling of the peaceful years and the enduring love of growing old together. The warmth spread ever further and further in the late spring breeze.
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