Since then, Lin Wanyue has vanished from the lives of the Prime Minister's residence like a phantom lost in time, never setting foot there again. It's said that she ultimately parted with the jade hairpin, a treasure trove of memories, and pawned it, trading it for a small sum of silver to buy Lin Wenxuan a wife from the countryside. Now, their family lives in poverty, their former glory vanishing like smoke. She no longer has the dignity to socialize, seemingly swallowed by the shadow of time, fading into obscurity.
It was the Double Ninth Festival, the height of autumn, and the world seemed meticulously painted by nature's master painter. The sky was pristine, the azure blue like a crystal gem, pure and untouched. Occasionally, a few snow-white clouds drifted by, like free spirits in the sky. Jiang Yan and I, along with our grandchildren, set out for Xiangshan Mountain outside the city for a rendezvous with autumn, to gaze from the heights and experience the unique charm of the Double Ninth Festival. Su Siyan, accompanied by his gentle wife and their delicate daughter, also happily joined us, adding a touch of warmth and joy to the outing. Meanwhile, Su Qingyao had been invited by her like-minded sisters, also passionate about poetry and beauty, to attend a unique "Chrysanthemum Poetry Festival." Before leaving, her passion and persistence for beauty remained unchanged. She even carefully stuffed three bottles of newly formulated lip balms into my bag. Each one seemed to embody her unique understanding and pursuit of beauty.
"Grandma, look at the chrysanthemums I picked!" A child's voice, as clear as a silver bell, echoed through the mountains like a string of joyful, bouncing notes. Nian Tang, with a light and nimble step, bounded towards me like a lively fawn. She held aloft a large bouquet of wild chrysanthemums. The blossoms were a dazzling array of colors: fiery red, rosy pink, and white as snow. Their petals were adorned with shimmering, translucent dew. Caressed by the gentle sunlight, they resembled tiny crystals, shimmering with a captivating, dreamy light, as if bearing the purest and most beautiful gift from Mother Nature, this generous mother.
At the same time, Cheng Yan also ran over happily, holding a lifelike sugar painting. His little face flushed with excitement, and he shouted loudly: "The dragon my grandfather bought for me! It's much more beautiful than the one my grandmother drew back then!" The sugar painting sparkled with an attractive luster under the sunlight. The translucent sugar body outlined a dragon with bared fangs and claws, as if it would break free from its restraints and soar into the sky in the next second. The lifelike appearance seemed to give the sugar dragon a fresh life.
I pretended to be angry, frowned slightly, and pretended to hit him, and scolded him, "You little smart guy, how dare you say that about your grandmother." Jiang Yan, on the side, smiled with his eyes curved, and that smile was full of doting on his grandchildren. He agreed, "Cheng Yan is right, the dragon I drew is still the best looking." There was a gentle light in his eyes, as if through Cheng Yan, he saw the self who once snatched my sugar painting on the street to get my attention.
"Grandfather's partial!" Nian Tang pouted her lips, looking incredibly adorable, like a ripe peach, making you want to take a bite. "Grandma's drawings are obviously the best! Grandma's dragons are the most majestic in the world!" She placed her hands on her hips, her serious expression as if she were defending the most sacred truth in the world. Her eyes revealed a fierce discontent, like a cockerel full of fighting spirit.
Watching the two little kids, their faces red with anger, bickering over whose dragon drawing was the best, like two chirping sparrows, Jiang Yan and I couldn't help but smile at each other. Those smiles were filled with deep love and joy for our grandchildren. It was as if we had traveled back in time, seeing our own innocent, childlike arguments and joy. Those past years, like sparkling pearls, strung together the most beautiful memories of our lives.
At that moment, Jiang Siyan, holding her daughter, walked over with steady, powerful steps and a gentle smile. The girl, delicate and delicate, looked like a fairy from a painting. She timidly called out, "Grandma," a voice as clear and melodious as a yellow oriole's chirping, seemingly dispelling the last chill of autumn. Then, she reached out her chubby little hand and slipped a candy into my arms. Her eyes were filled with anticipation and shyness, like a spring flower budding, eager to bloom yet a little shy.
"Our Nian Nian is still a good child." I couldn't help but gently pinch her little face. The touch was soft and sticky, as if it were normal. "Unlike your father, who was naughty and mischievous when he was young and always made me angry." I said jokingly with a smile, my eyes full of teasing and love for my son. Those interesting stories of Jiang Siyan's childhood flashed through my mind one by one like a movie. Although naughty, they were also full of warmth and joy.
After hearing this, Jiang Siyan was at a loss whether to laugh or cry. He scratched his head helplessly and quickly explained, "Mom, I was young and ignorant and didn't understand things..." There was an awkward smile on his face, as if he had returned to that green boyhood.
"Hmph, now you know you're wrong?" I deliberately raised my eyebrows and asked in a serious tone, but my eyes were full of smiles.
"I know, I know," Jiang Siyan nodded hurriedly with a flattering smile on his face, "I'll bring you sweets and cakes every day from now on, so you can eat them happily." There was a hint of coquettishness in his tone, as if he had turned back into the child who longed for his mother's forgiveness.
As we were talking, a sudden commotion broke out in the distance. Following the sound, we saw several young men in elegant attire, riding on fine horses, approaching with a cloud of dust. The clatter of hooves was as rapid as the beat of drums, and the dust they kicked up danced in the sunlight like a golden veil. The leading young man, upon noticing us, suddenly reined in his horse. The horse neighed, its front hooves raised high, its posture swift and graceful. He froze for a moment, then quickly dismounted. With a clean, sharp movement, he trotted towards us, bowing respectfully and saying, "Master Jiang, Madam Su, I greet you."
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