funeral
Jiang Yile's funeral was held on a morning with drizzling rain and a gloomy sky as if covered with a gray veil.
The rain was not heavy, but extremely fine and cold, like an endless, sad veil between heaven and earth, shrouding the entire world in a hazy, damp, and insoluble sorrow.
The air was cold, and it felt icy and astringent when inhaled into the lungs, making even breathing heavy.
Gu Nanxiao did not go into the cemetery. He did not have the courage to witness with his own eyes the small tomb covered with fresh soil and white flowers, which was about to swallow up the last bit of light and warmth in his entire world.
He was wearing a black suit that was ironed but seemed heavier and as oppressive as the night. Underneath it was the school uniform shirt that she had last seen him wear, which had been washed and ironed but seemed to always retain her scent - as if this could bring him closer to the short summer with her, and pretend that nothing had happened yet.
He held tightly in his arms the oil painting portrait that Jiang Yile had painted for him, which he ultimately failed to complete.
As if holding a fragile and precious dream, I stood far away from the cemetery under a cypress tree with drooping branches, as if it was also in silence.
Like a lonely soul forgotten in the corner of time and frozen by sadness, he looked at the crowd shrouded in countless black umbrellas and heavy sadness from afar, greedily and painfully.
The rain silently and continuously wet his neatly combed black hair.
A messy strand of hair stuck to his forehead and slid down his thin and sunken cheeks, mixing with the warm, unstoppable tears, making it impossible to tell the difference between the two.
The expensive suit jacket was stained with dark, ever-expanding water marks from the rain, which clung heavily to his body and brought him a bone-chilling coldness, but he was completely unaware.
All her senses seemed to be closed, leaving only her eyes, staring in that direction with excruciating pain, the direction where she was about to fall asleep.
He saw Jiang Yile's parents - the couple who seemed to have aged twenty years overnight and had all their vitality drained away - supporting each other, their bodies hunched over, barely able to stand independently, and every step they took was extremely difficult.
Jiang's mother's crying was suppressed and broken, as if it was torn out from the depths of her soul. Even at such a long distance, one could still feel the heart-wrenching despair that was enough to drown out everything.
Father Jiang pursed his lips tightly, his face ashen, trying to maintain the last bit of dignity and strength as a man and a father. However, his slightly trembling, uncontrollable shoulders and eyes as empty as dead water revealed the equally huge and irreparable collapse in his heart.
When they looked at the small tomb, the pain and reluctance in their eyes were like red-hot irons, burning Gu Nanxiao's heart repeatedly and harshly, reminding him of his family's unforgivable sins.
He saw Zhou Xiaowei and several good classmates in the class, wearing plain clothes and with red eyes, gently placing white chrysanthemums, a symbol of purity and mourning, in front of the tomb. Their movements were so gentle as if they were afraid of disturbing her sleep.
Their faces showed the sadness of youth and the confusion and helplessness about the impermanence of life.
Those who once laughed, struggled and shared secrets with Jiang Yile are now shrouded in an indispellable haze of sadness.
He also saw some unfamiliar faces, perhaps distant relatives of the Jiang family, or perhaps doctors and nurses who had treated her. They all stood there silently, expressing their final grief and farewell.
Every figure, every bit of sadness that almost solidified into substance, was like an invisible whip with barbs, repeatedly lashing his soul that had already been bloodied and sinful.
Is he worthy to stand among them?
Is he worthy of expressing mourning that is mixed with endless guilt, to the point where even the guilt seems hypocritical?
He doesn't deserve it.
.
He only deserves to be like this now, like a dark, shameful shadow with original sin, peeping from afar, chewing alone the eternal bitter fruit planted by his family and ultimately deepened by himself, carrying the endless regret and longing like shackles for his entire life.
He could only stay here, in this way of self-exile and self-punishment, to accompany her on her last journey in this world.
The rain blurred his vision.
However, he kept his eyes open stubbornly and almost masochistically, as if he wanted to engrave this scene, along with the endless, cold rain, forever and deeply in his mind as a permanent, life sentence for himself.
The crowd at the funeral gradually dispersed, and the black umbrellas merged into a flowing, silent, sad river, slowly flowing towards the exit of the cemetery, returning to their own lives with their own sorrow.
Workers began the final filling.
When the first shovel of soil fell with a dull and resolute sound on the bright coffin that carried her young life, Gu Nanxiao's body trembled violently.
It was like being hit by a bullet. I could hardly stand. My heart seemed to be crushed by an invisible hand in an instant.
He turned around abruptly and pressed his forehead against the cold, rough, bark-covered cypress trunk. His nails dug deep into the edge of the picture frame in his palm, leaving deep marks that almost broke his nails.
He clenched his teeth, not allowing himself to make a sound.
Only his shoulders were shaking uncontrollably and violently, and his silent crying was more desperate than wailing, and deeper into his bones.
Hot tears mixed with cold rain soaked the tree trunks.
He knew that the only light in his life, the only warm light that had ever illuminated his dark world, was completely and forever extinguished.
From now on, his world will be filled with only a long, endless, freezing rainy season.
The sun had nothing to do with him anymore.
He fulfilled his promise to her.
Like the most loyal, yet most desperate, oath-keeper bound by an oath.
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