Chapter 117 Ye Yuying looked at his eyes…
Ye Yuying watched his lips move, his tone flat, yet like a gentle yet firm breeze, carrying his unique, refreshing fragrance.
Upon hearing this, I wholeheartedly agreed, and at the same time, some real and some illusory images flashed through my mind.
The innate composure in his speech gradually became more and more charming as she grew up.
This aura, which I thought was serious or oppressive when I was a child, now has a kind of intrigue that makes people curious, or gradually evolves into a sense of asceticism.
For many years, she had felt more fear than gratitude towards Cheng Mingdu, but as she gradually clarified her inner feelings, she became increasingly curious about whether this person would engage in masturbation or have any desires...
Oh, right...
Her gaze lingered for a moment on Cheng Mingdu's thin lower lip, and she noticed that the original wound had now completely healed, as if even the dream had disappeared.
It was as if none of that had ever happened; the storm, the shouts, the icy seawater... it was all just an illusion for her.
But only she knew how he came against the current and lifted her out of the sea at that moment.
"What are you thinking about?" His voice suddenly came, low and deep, yet pleasant, as if noticing her lingering gaze.
She flinched, not expecting Cheng Mingdu to ask her so bluntly. Coming to her senses, she quickly looked away and said, "It's nothing."
At this moment, Cheng Mingdu's eyes were calm, and he didn't say anything further. However, Ye Yuying felt uneasy, afraid that he had caught her thoughts from that moment.
"Wait a moment, I have something for you." Cheng Mingdu didn't ask any more questions, went upstairs to his suitcase, took out a brown paper envelope, and handed it to her.
"This was sent by the lawyer earlier. It's the portion of your grandmother's will that will be transferred to you when you reach adulthood."
Ye Yuying lowered her head, her fingertips gently tracing the edge of the envelope as if afraid it would break. The document beneath the paper was not just an inheritance, but also her grandmother's last instructions, left to her three years after her death.
He looked at her for a few seconds, then continued, "The lawyer also attached the property transfer documents. She listed the house as your 'residential inheritance,' which means that only you can decide when to sell or renovate it, and no one else has the right to use it."
Just a few days ago she was worried about being homeless, but now... at least she still has a place to live that her grandmother gave her.
Looking at the envelope in her hand, the old writing on the paper shone through in the sunlight. She reached out and tore open the seal.
Inside was a printed copy of a will, stamped with the red seal of the Qingcheng Notary Public Office at the bottom. My grandmother's signature was aged yet neat.
"I will leave my residence in Zhuling, Xishan, Qingcheng, and the adjacent land, totaling 1,400 square meters (about 2.1 acres), along with my savings and some jewelry, to my granddaughter, Ye Yuying."
She read that line of text very slowly. As she read, her vision began to blur.
She couldn't make it back when her grandmother passed away because she was busy with her high school entrance exam.
Thinking about it carefully, the passing of both of them coincided with two major tests in her life. When she learned the truth, they had already been dead for some time, which just happened to avoid the most intense moment of grief.
But these two unfinished mourning sessions were like rusty patches in her heart. Every time she crossed a new stage, the patch would gently move inside her, reminding her that some regrets would remain forever in the same place, waiting for her to say goodbye.
She can't let go, she never will.
That day, Ye Yuying sat alone in the corner of the house all day, examining the handwriting left by her grandmother, which was the only thing she could observe.
She discovered that her grandmother's handwriting was very neat, even in her final moments it was clear and earnest.
I heard that my grandmother didn't finish primary school. She longed to learn, but it was a time of famine, and she couldn't afford to hone her writing skills. She had to work with a hoe or become a factory worker.
In those days, my grandmother also suffered a lot. She said that she started working outside when she was thirteen years old, as a factory worker. After a day's work, her nostrils would be blackened by dust.
The night was deep, and the bamboo shadows outside swayed gently in the wind.
Ye Yuying remained seated, the will lying open on the table, her university acceptance letter beside her. The warm light could not dispel the lingering emptiness in her heart.
She was long past the age of hysteria, though she had wanted to shout countless times—
Grandma! Can you see this? I've been accepted into the top university! Will you still be able to see this?
Later, she asked herself the same question and answered herself: "You can't see it."
Cheng Mingdu walked over, leaned against the door, and looked at her for a while.
“You haven’t moved all afternoon,” he said softly. “Your eyes must be sore.”
Ye Yuying turned around, her eyes still red, and took a soft breath: "I'm looking at her handwriting."
"Your maternal grandmother?"
“Hmm.” She looked up, her voice gentle and low. “She writes very beautifully, as if it were carved. In her time, even eating was a problem, so she didn’t know many characters in her life, but she wrote each one very carefully.”
He walked over and sat down in the chair opposite her, his gaze falling on the yellowed paper.
The handwriting on the paper was slightly trembling, yet extremely forceful.
"She writes very well," he said casually.
Ye Yuying looked up, her eyes a little moist: "Do you know, she actually didn't finish elementary school."
“I know,” Cheng Mingdu’s voice lowered, “but living a wise life has nothing to do with academic qualifications.”
"Your closest relatives or friends will leave some final traces for you before they pass away. As time goes by, you will receive these traces one after another and continue to experience separation."
Growing up means experiencing separation and becoming increasingly alone. Everyone around you is just a passerby; some stay longer, some stay shorter. Even lifelong partners cannot accompany you to the end. Therefore, in the end, one faces death alone and this lonely life alone.
Cheng Mingdu's tone was calm, but it carried even more gentleness and patience.
"You'll find that a person's life is actually a process of learning to say goodbye. First, you leave your childhood, then your hometown, and later, you leave a person. Each time is painful, but it's also what makes you truly grow up."
“But I don’t want to,” she murmured. “I just want… her to wait for me a little longer.”
He looked up at her, his expression devoid of pity, only filled with profound understanding.
Unfortunately, the world doesn't work that way. We can never time every separation perfectly.
"But you should know that they haven't disappeared."
"What do you mean? Haven't they already disappeared?" Ye Yuying paused, tears welling up in her eyes.
"What they left behind will eventually become a part of you." He paused, his voice warm yet powerful. "Your actions, your words, your choices... all bear her shadow. You will face life well, compete well, and study hard, because a part of you wants to fulfill their lifelong dreams, to see the sights they never saw. They themselves suffered greatly in their lives, yet they still lifted you up to the international arena and the halls of academia..."
"This is what they left behind in you... It's actually accompanying you in a different way. Every step you take, every decision you make, is them continuing to live."
Ye Yuying looked at his profile, a tear flashing across her eyes.
“But I…” Ye Yuying pursed her lips, her voice so soft it almost disappeared into the air, “I am often afraid. I know that every step I take is isolated and helpless, and behind me… there are no more of them.”
“It’s normal to be afraid.” He looked at her, his tone almost cruelly honest. “Growing up is never about becoming fearless, but about learning to keep moving forward despite fear.”
“Besides…” He paused, the light falling on his profile, the soft shadows outlining the clear lines of his eyebrows and eyes, then a slight smile appeared on his lips, “I can lift you up too.”
Ye Yuying blinked, her mind racing again. She knew this confusion was inappropriate, but her eyes flickered slightly as she said thank you.
There was silence in the room for a few seconds. The wind rustled through the bamboo grove and past the window, bringing with it a soft, rustling sound.
Her gaze pierced through the tears as she looked at Cheng Mingdu. Her throat tightened, and she wanted to say something, but the words caught in her throat.
"Do you believe that I feel a strong sense of loneliness, a loneliness that even being surrounded by people cannot alleviate? It's not the loneliness of being abandoned by the outside world, but a feeling that I cannot relieve in my heart."
...That is the pain of never being able to express her true feelings even when Cheng Mingdu is by her side.
"I believe it, because I feel the same way."
Cheng Mingdu paused slightly, and at that moment, his expression became extremely calm.
He didn't explain further, but suddenly stood up and said, "It's getting late... get some rest."
He then turned and left.
She gazed at his retreating figure for a long time. The bamboo shadows outside the window swayed. She raised her hand and turned off the light, and the world was plunged back into a thick darkness.
*
After that night, the air suddenly became humid, the wind picked up, and rain fell in the bamboo forest.
Cheng Mingdu's body seemed to have developed subtle abnormalities from that time onward.
At first, it was just a slight cough, which he didn't take seriously, and he continued to work and process documents as usual.
By the morning of the third day, his body temperature began to rise, and his breathing became rapid.
The doctor came twice, saying that the immune system had not fully recovered from the previous low temperature, and there was a possibility of secondary infection.
He was originally going to move to another residence to isolate.
However, Ye Yuying insisted that she would definitely not go to the third floor and would take precautions, so Cheng Mingdu agreed to stay.
From that day on, the two of them went up and down the stairs through two different passages, and although they were in the same villa, they could not meet.
A faint medicinal smell lingered in the air, though she knew it was an illusion, since they were actually in a state of artificial isolation, and Cheng Mingdu wasn't taking traditional Chinese medicine.
The windows on the third floor are almost never opened again, and the light at the end of the corridor never goes out, day or night. Whenever the night is deep and quiet, Ye Yuying can always hear a very faint cough coming from above, short and suppressed, as if it is being deliberately suppressed in the throat to prevent it from dissipating.
She wanted to go and see, but reason held her back.
A week later, she started to have a fever.
At first, it was just a tightness in my throat, but later it became a burning pain when I breathed, and I was enveloped in a high-temperature fog.
When the doctor arrived, she was leaning against the sofa, barely able to stay upright.
The doctor said that she also developed complications, including pneumonia.
At that moment, she actually smiled.
That laugh was not frivolous, but rather a strange tranquility.
Finally, she could get close to him again.
The moment Ye Yuying pushed open the door, she saw him leaning against the headboard, looking even thinner than she remembered, yet his eyes and brows remained aloof.
Cheng Mingdu looked up and was taken aback when he saw her.
"Who sent you?" His voice was low, revealing seriousness and resistance.
“My complications have also come,” she said softly, with a hint of joy in her voice. “So… I can finally see you.”
He wanted to say something, but her eyes silenced him.
She sat down on the edge of his bed, leaning gently against the headboard. They were half a meter apart, their breaths mingling.
The ward was dimly lit, and the oxygen machine beeped rhythmically.
The sound was like a heartbeat, and also like time being gently slowed down at that moment.
She was also ill, but she still restrained herself and dared not get too close.
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