“What are you saying? What do you mean you can’t tolerate your mother? Look at the wall, this is a painting I made for your mother. It’s been hanging here all these years, and I think of her every day.”
Xiao Qingyin glanced at the painting he was referring to.
The painting depicts a young woman admiring flowers while partially covering her face with a round fan, her eyes crinkling with laughter.
Such a vibrant life was lost at such a young age. Wouldn't Xiao Shengyuan feel uneasy looking at this painting?
"Have you ever gone to pay respects to my mother?"
She asked softly.
Xiao Shengyuan paused for a moment.
After a short silence, he replied, "According to the customs of Yizhou, the first three years after a spouse's death are considered a period of mourning, and it is not customary to pay respects. So I didn't go. If I had gone three years later, the tombstone might have been washed away by the rain or stolen. The person who was in charge of the burial had also passed away. I... couldn't find your mother's grave."
"The grave cannot be found..."
Xiao Qingyin laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face.
She wiped away her tears, her face full of mockery.
"Minister Xiao, do you want to listen to what you're saying?"
You love your wife so much that you've hung her portrait up for over a decade or two, yet you don't even know where her grave is.
This deep affection is truly moving.
Xiao Shengyuan steadied himself on the table, his face deathly pale.
"When people die, they all turn to dust. It doesn't matter where they are buried. Worship is just a ritual. As long as I keep her in my heart, she will live on forever."
As he said this, a hint of confidence crept into his voice.
"You are still young, you haven't experienced life and death, you don't know what it means to feel apprehensive when you're close to home."
"I'm just too sad, too in pain, that's why I deliberately try to forget and not look for it."
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