You always doubt yourself because you can't remember the tone of her voice or whether the light brown mole at the corner of her eye is at the outer corner or below her eye.
He even scolded himself in the mirror for being too heartless, feeling that he hadn't cared enough, which was why he was gradually forgetting her.
"But Mo Yun, all of this is normal—from the very beginning, you were never her destined partner."
"In her previous life, she was a female soldier in 1928, around the age of twenty-something."
She had short, ear-length hair with slightly curled ends, just like she looked when she first woke up in this life.
She wore blue cotton shirts with frayed cuffs, but the collar was always neatly tied, and she always carried leaflets printed with "Save the Nation and Preserve the Nation" in her arms.
The smell of ink seeped into the fabric fibers and couldn't be washed off.
Finally, she died at the hands of the Japanese devils.
Xin Ziming's gaze drifted to the window, as if piercing through the gaps in the bamboo curtain, and she saw the alleyway battle in the torrential rain decades ago.
"It rained heavily that day, splashing water half a foot high on the bluestone slabs, and thunder rumbled across the sky, as if it were going to split the whole world apart."
She collapsed under the old locust tree at the alley entrance, still clutching the unfinished flyers in her hand, blood mixed with rainwater flowing down her path.
The puddles that had stained half the street red had even turned the moss next to them a dark brown.
According to fate, she was supposed to be left to rot for three days, eaten by wild dogs, without even a grave to pay respects to, and her name would be washed away in the mud by the rain.
No one remembers that there was ever a girl in this world who fought so hard for her beliefs.
"It was you back then, a peddler carrying a load of unsold sweet cakes on his shoulder pole, walking through the streets and alleys."
The oil paper bag was damp in one corner by the rain, and a sweet fragrance mixed with the fishy smell of the rain wafted in the wind.
When you passed by, you couldn't bear to see such a miserable sight, so you took off your only warm cotton-padded coat—a coat that your mother had sewn for you overnight before she left.
The collar was embroidered with a crooked plum blossom, the only pattern your mother knew how to embroider. You usually couldn't bear to wear it, only taking it out for the New Year.
You wrapped her cold, stiff body in a cotton-padded coat, and then dug a shallow pit at the foot of the city wall with a carrying pole used for carrying goods, until the end of the pole was worn bald.
Your hands were also cut by the stones, and blood dripped onto the fresh soil, mingling with her blood.
But you didn't care. You kept bringing fresh soil and hastily buried her, finally planting a bare willow branch in front of her grave.
He squatted down beside her and said, "Girl, may you be born into a better era in your next life, so you don't have to suffer like this again. Just live a peaceful and stable life."
"So in this life, she's here to pay off a debt?" I interrupted her, my voice trembling without me even realizing it.
Like a string about to snap in the wind, every word trembled uncontrollably, even the teeth chattered slightly.
Tears were already welling up in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.
“We were all crammed together at a small noodle shop at the alley entrance eating hot soup noodles. She picked up a poached egg from her bowl and gave it to me, saying, ‘A-Yun needs to eat more so she has the energy to go to work.’”
They were watching the stars together on the balcony. She pointed to the brightest star and said, "That's me. After I'm gone, it will watch over A-Yun for me and prevent bad people from bullying you."
We planned to go to the beach next spring, saying we would write our names on the sand and let the waves carry our promise into the sea.
Even if we part ways in the future, the sea will remember us—is this time merely her repaying a debt of gratitude?
She nodded, her long eyelashes casting a soft shadow beneath her eyes, like butterfly wings gently covering her, and even her blinking was filled with a gentle tenderness.
"Yes. This is the cause and effect between you, but it is not a destiny that allows you to stay together forever."
She came into this world just to repay you for that bit of 'decency' from back then—to walk a part of the way with you, to leave a light on when you come home late from work, with warm milk placed beside it.
A small note she had written was pasted on the cup: "A-Yun, drink your milk before you go to sleep."
When you have a cold and fever, she'll bring you a bowl of hot porridge with your favorite ginger shreds, and she'll even sit by your bedside to wipe your sweat.
He said, "Ah-Yun, get well soon. I'm waiting to go out for hot pot with you."
When you're sad, I'll lend you my shoulder to lean on, gently pat your back and say, "Ah-Yun, don't be afraid, I'm here. Even if the sky falls, I'll hold it up for you."
She is repaying you tenfold for the warmth you gave her back then.
Give her a warm cotton-padded coat, and she will give you countless warm nights.
Give her a shallow pit to shelter her from the wind and rain, and she will give you a small home filled with laughter.
A simple blessing from you will give you an unforgettable memory.
But once this debt of gratitude is repaid, she should return to where she belongs, like the wind that blows by, like snow that melts in the palm of her hand, like spring flowers that wither and never return.
This is destiny etched in one's birth chart, like spring sowing and autumn harvest, the alternation of day and night, like the sun always rising in the east and setting in the west, like flowers always blooming and withering—even gods cannot change it.
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