Mr. Yuan, holding a wine glass, began to recount their past to the tombstone...
It turns out that Mr. and Mrs. Zhou and Mr. Yuan were fellow disciples of the same school of medicine since childhood. Mr. Yuan, as the senior disciple, was used to a leisurely life. Although his medical skills were not as good as Mr. Zhou's, he ran a pharmacy in this rural town and made a living. His life was quite comfortable.
With his talent and superb medical skills, Old Man Zhou rose through the ranks, entering the imperial city and palace to become a royal physician. Later, the ambitious Old Man Zhou became a trusted official who spoke out for the emperor.
The upright and incorruptible old man Zhou, who cared for the country and its people, often refused the flattery of the court officials. In the end, he was framed by people with ulterior motives for being a bad doctor, which caused his one-year-old son, A Niu, to become mentally disabled. The old woman Zhou, who had been with him through thick and thin, became depressed and grew thinner day by day. For the sake of the old woman Zhou, the old man Zhou had no choice but to give up his medicine and official position and return to his hometown to live in seclusion in the mountains.
To prevent those with ulterior motives from implicating their senior brother, Mr. Yuan, they appeared to outsiders to be merely engaged in the trade of medicinal herbs.
But no one knew that the bond between them had long surpassed that of family...
No wonder Mr. Yuan was so generous in giving me Wenheng money back then, and now he's so quick to take us in.
So that's how the relationship is.
"Why did you say you wanted to enter the city and get an official position? Do you think you can outmaneuver those old foxes in the court? I gave you my junior sister, not so she could suffer with you, endure the pain of losing her son, and fall into depression!" Mr. Yuan launched into a tirade against Old Man Zhou's tombstone.
He then turned to Old Lady Zhou's grave: "I said, Junior Sister, why did you have to follow him to the underworld even in death? You didn't give me a single chance, and all I could do was drink to a mound of yellow earth, leaving only two lines of clear tears. In the end, you even left your two children to beg for a living on the streets. You didn't care about me at all. If there is an afterlife, I will definitely not give Junior Sister away to someone else!"
Who would have thought that Mr. Yuan was so devoted to Old Mrs. Zhou and waited for her all his life while still single?
No wonder Old Man Zhou wanted to find some reason to reduce his contact with him because he was afraid that the power of the imperial court would implicate him. In fact, it was to prevent Mr. Yuan from being tempted by the sight of him and trying to poach his men.
Mr. Yuan cried and recounted his story, tears streaming down his face.
Sitting before the grave, cups of fine wine are poured into the yellow earth, one cup after another, and then swallowed, each cup accompanied by tears.
I sat there from morning until sunset.
I gazed at the elderly people in front of the graves under the setting sun, and felt a sense of loneliness.
If he knew that Old Man Zhou's karmic deeds of serving the country and the people in this life had led to his current life in the underworld, where he is enjoying family bliss with his wife and children, and that even his beloved junior sister is destined to be his wife in the next life, would he be so angry that he would vomit blood?
It was already late, and the setting sun had disappeared. The coachman and his companions, who had been waiting for him all day, were already leaning against the carriage and starting to doze off.
Mr. Yuan, his round body swaying and his steps faltering, stood up from the pile of colorful graves, his eyes still blurry with drunkenness.
I could vaguely hear him muttering to himself, "Although you, Old Zhou, died a more tragic death than me, I still envy your life of military service. You had an old woman who died a heroic death for you, and children to dote on you. Unlike me, I'm all alone, living a mundane and ordinary life. It's so meaningless... so meaningless..."
Before getting into the carriage, Wen Heng and I said goodbye to him. He took out a bag of silver from his pocket and stuffed it into my hand, saying with a hint of alcohol, "You two kids, once you've recovered from your injuries, you're welcome to come to Uncle Yuan's house to help keep this lonely old man company anytime. If you don't want to, come and ask me for money whenever you run out. Don't go begging anymore!"
Before I could refuse, the old man had already climbed into the carriage. His heavy body swayed and the whole carriage creaked and groaned, which immediately woke up the dozing coachman and his assistant. Seeing Mr. Yuan get into the carriage, they cracked their whips and lashed the horse's rump. The horse neighed loudly and rode away with its passengers.
Watching the carriage disappear into the distance, he glanced down at the money in his purse and was startled: "Could it be that Mr. Yuan got drunk and gave me all his savings?"
"Ahua, here!"
At that moment, Wen Heng, holding a single root of the same kind as mine, handed it to me with his usual clean smile.
"A gift for me?" I was a little surprised. How could there be a single-stemmed plant in this place? Don't these things usually grow in high mountains where people rarely go?
"Um."
Why did you send me flowers?
Wen Heng scratched his head and pondered for a moment when I asked him a sudden question. Then, as if remembering something, he looked up and said slowly and deliberately, "Because I like Ahua."
"Don't you like flowers too? Then why are you giving them to me?"
“Ah Hua said that because we are husband and wife, whatever Zhou Lang likes, Ah Hua likes, and whatever Ah Hua likes, Zhou Lang also likes.”
Ha, how come this kid's mind suddenly became so clear?
"Do you love me?"
I didn't know I would suddenly ask such a question. Perhaps I was moved by the love between the Zhou couple and Mr. Yuan's lifelong, restrained love. Even though I knew Wen Heng could not possibly understand what love was, I still waited for his answer with anticipation.
"And what is love?" Wen Heng indeed didn't understand, looking at me with a puzzled expression.
"Love is like this flower. If you like it, you will pick it, but it will die after you hold it in your hand for a few days. But if you love it, you will not pick it. Instead, you will put it in the soil, fertilize and water it, and protect it from wind and rain. It will not die, and you can see this flower every year."
"So, do you like flowers or do you love flowers? Do you like me or do you love me?" I asked in return.
Wen Heng scratched his head, staring at the flower in his hand, seemingly confused by my explanation.
"I knew you wouldn't understand what love is. Go home!" Although I knew he wouldn't understand, I still felt a little disappointed seeing him lower his head and remain silent.
Wen Heng followed me back to the thatched cottage courtyard. Standing in front of the door, he tried to flatter me by offering me the flowers in his hand again: "Zhou Lang wants to sleep with Ahua."
I put my hands on my hips and said irritably, "You don't love me, so why should I sleep with you! Go back to your own room!" I don't know why I was arguing with a silly boy who doesn't understand love, but I just didn't want to let him off so easily.
"Oh," Wen Heng said, his head bowed, clutching the flower he hadn't given away. He turned and left with a pitiful look, almost touching the soft spot in my heart. But I held my breath and watched with a serious expression as Wen Heng's back turned back to his room, looking back every few steps. Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief.
I almost got lured away by this kid's handsome and adorable appearance again!
The next day, I was fortunate enough not to have to get up early and work late to take Wen Heng to beg on the street. I stayed in bed until the sun was high in the sky. As I stretched and yawned, I opened the door and saw Wen Heng standing in front of me holding a potted plant with a sincere look on his face.
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