Jiang Yan sighed and held Su Jinli's hand: "Jinli is always kind-hearted." He still had the scent of ink from the study on him, and his fingertips touched the mutton-fat jade bracelet on her wrist.
Siyan muttered: "Okay, I'll go. But I'll only give her enough to eat, no more!" When he turned around, the hem of his brocade robe swept across Nanny Zhang's sewing basket, revealing a half-embroidered tiger-head shoe with fine stitches. It was prepared for Pan'er's unborn little cousin.
Pan'er looked up and asked, "Grandma, why does the bad old lady scold my uncle?"
Su Jinli squatted down and straightened her crooked braid. "Because her heart is filled with resentment. Pan'er, remember, you have to be like Aunt Zhang and have kindness in your heart. Only then can you live a stable life."
"Yes!" Pan'er nodded vigorously, the red silk on her pigtail brushing against Su Jinli's cheek. "Pan'er will share the osmanthus cake with all the hungry people in the future!"
The setting sun streamed through the window lattice, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Nanny Zhang was telling Pan'er a story about baking osmanthus cakes back in the prime minister's residence. Siyan and the housekeeper were heading towards the dilapidated temple where Liu lived. Nianli was teaching Pan'er boxing in the courtyard. Jiang Yan was at his desk, grinding, preparing to copy Su Jinli's new storybook.
Su Jinli watched all this, remembering Liu's withered hands and resentful eyes, and suddenly felt that the old resentment had long since dissipated with the wind. True fulfillment wasn't about seeing your enemies suffer, but about the warm people around you—Madam Zhang's rough hands still sewing tiger-head shoes for Pan'er, Si Yan, despite her grumbling, still went to deliver food, and Pan'er's eyes reflecting the golden glow of the setting sun, pure and without a trace of haze.
Half an hour later, Si Yan returned, dusty and covered in dust, his brocade robe stained with cobwebs from the ruined temple. For once, he didn't touch his abacus. Instead, he handed Su Jinli a clean handkerchief and said, "Mother, I left the grain and silver at the temple entrance. She...she cried when she saw the grain, saying she was sorry for what happened back then."
Su Jinli took the handkerchief and looked at the beads of sweat on her son's temples: "It's good that she cried. It means she still has thoughts in her heart."
Jiang Yan put down his wolf hair brush and looked at the wisteria flowers in full bloom outside the window: "Jinli, you are always like this, turning bitterness into sweetness." As soon as he finished writing the word "goodness", the fragrance of ink mixed with the fragrance of wisteria filled the room.
Pan'er ran over, holding a pair of new tiger-head shoes made by Nanny Zhang. Embroidered on the uppers was a lifelike little tiger, its eyes made of black pearls. The golden glow of the setting sun shone on the child's innocent smile, and also on this home that had weathered storms but grown warmer. Su Jinli suddenly remembered the icy flowers in the cold courtyard of her previous life, but now she felt warmth in her palms. The pain of that past life had long since transformed into the spring mud that nourishes happiness in the warmth of this world, allowing kindness to take root and sprout over the years, growing into a strong tree that sheltered her from the wind and rain.
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