In short, the whole page was filled with the words "I miss my master, I miss my master, I miss my master".
After putting away the letter, Ikeba Shizuka stood up and walked to the window.
She gazed quietly at the cherry blossom tree in the courtyard, then took out a gold and silver hairpin that had been split in two from her bosom, held it in her hand, and looked at it for a long, long time.
My pupils gradually lost focus, and my thoughts drifted back to the past.
As a child, she was as mischievous and playful as other children her age. One day, she accidentally discovered the wooden box containing the hairpin on her mother's dressing table.
At that time, she didn't know what these things meant. She simply thought the items in the wooden box were very beautiful, and she happily pestered her mother to take them for herself.
Finally, her mother picked her up and told her that she could only receive these things when she grew up.
The little girl didn't understand, so she asked.
My mother said this is the girl's dowry.
Dowry? What is a dowry?
She still didn't understand.
Her mother patiently explained to her for a long, long time.
It was then that she finally understood that girls grow up to get married, and that a dowry is a gift that a girl gives to her future husband.
Overjoyed, she took out a hairpin from the wooden box, held it high in her hand, and shouted that when she grew up, she would find the best husband in the world and give him all of her dowry.
Her mother held her in her arms and said with a smile, "Our little Jinghua must grow up quickly, and then find a good husband who loves and cherishes you, and become a virtuous and kind wife."
She nodded vigorously and said yes, confidently declaring that she would definitely become a wife as excellent as her mother.
She began to look forward to growing up.
Time flies, and years pass quickly.
More than 30 years have passed in the blink of an eye, and it seems that the smiling girl has truly fulfilled the wish she once made.
But perhaps, no...
Just like the girl before, Ikeba Shizuka gently raised the hairpin in her hand.
Sunlight streamed onto the half of the gold and silver hairpin, making it shimmer with a soft glow.
A gentle breeze blew by, lifting the gauze curtains by the window, and subtly stirred a chord in my heart.
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