Bonus Chapter - Qingming Festival
During the Qingming Festival, the mountain mist, like a thin veil, gently shrouds the village.
The elders say that the rain on this day is the tears of the departed souls returning home.
A light rain was falling, and the ashes of the burned paper money were swept up by the wind, like a flock of white butterflies, drifting and flying into the depths of the mountains and fields.
The soul of the deceased will briefly awaken on this day.
They sat up from the graves, shook off the dirt, and followed the guidance of the paper money burned by their relatives, walking along a misty path towards "Guixu".
Where did the deceased go?
Some say they turned into the wind, whispering among the willow branches in spring.
Some say they became stars, silently gazing down upon the world from the night sky.
Some say they are simply sleeping beneath the yellow earth, awaiting the call of reincarnation.
The elderly believe that the deceased never truly leave.
————
As night deepened, the mountain fog grew thicker.
There were faint, light footsteps, as if someone was returning home through the dew.
Old Qing suddenly lowered his voice: "Look..."
On the forest path, a blurry figure slowly walked by, its clothes fluttering, seemingly real yet illusory.
The man stopped in front of a grave, gazed down at it for a long time, and finally turned into a wisp of smoke, dissipating in the wind.
"That is..."
"The deceased return home." Chen Ze turned around. "Qingming is not about mourning, but about letting the living remember that the departed also existed."
As Jianyu gazed at the scattered lights in the distance, he suddenly asked in a low voice, "What if... no one remembers them?"
Chen Ze paused, his silver hair blowing in the wind: "Then they really have disappeared."
The fried fish disappeared early in the morning and didn't return until the afternoon, looking disheveled.
He clutched a wooden plaque with a few words crookedly engraved on it: "Nameless Tomb - Jianyu Li".
Chen Ze raised an eyebrow: "What are you doing?"
"So that no one is forgotten!" she said matter-of-factly.
After a moment of silence, Chen Ze suddenly took out a pen from his sleeve and added a line of small characters to the wooden plaque:
“An old friend once came, stepping on the moon.”
The eldest brother even imitated the way he fried fish and erected a monument for himself.
"Qian Chenli, the Phoenix King of a Hundred Birds"
When the stars have all sunk
I am the only fire
"Illuminating the eternal night"
...
In truth, the souls of the dead are not hungry or cold; they are simply afraid of being forgotten.
In the human world, those who came to sweep the tombs have already returned home.
The child asked his mother, "Can Grandpa really receive the paper money we burn?"
His mother patted his head and whispered, "Yes, he will always be there, as long as we remember him."
One day, we too will become the ones being mourned.
And perhaps then, we too will sit by the river in Guixu, gazing at the wisp of smoke rising from the human world, waiting for a familiar voice to say—
I've come to visit you this Qingming Festival.
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