This tree was planted by a beautiful woman.
As her father, he was momentarily at a loss for what to do. His face full of apology, he lowered his eyes and reached out to pat her head. "It's late, Xiao Qiu, go to sleep first. We'll go see your mother tomorrow... okay?"
Peng Qiumo stared straight at him with her round eyes, then smiled innocently, her eyebrows curving upwards. "Okay!"
"father."
"What's wrong?"
She asked softly, "Can I sleep with Daddy?"
For some reason, he stared at Peng Qiuming's face, lost in thought, and felt more and more that she resembled Zhao Di, that little girl who was also seven years old. Her father didn't love her, her mother resented her, and she prayed for survival in the freezing snow. It was Pang Linqiu who took her in.
Despite careful care, Zhao Di still died.
He thought that Qiu Mo might be the reincarnation of Zhao Di, wanting to experience the happiness of love in this world. It's just a pity that she came at the wrong time, and he also failed to live up to her expectations. Her mother passed away and her father was busy, so he couldn't give her as much love as he wanted.
Peng Xuan'an paused for a moment, thought for a while, and then shook his head, "Xiao Qiu has grown up so much, and still..."
Before he could finish speaking, a hurried voice came from the doorway, "General! Something terrible has happened! Miss Qian Sheng has suddenly developed a high fever. You'd better go and see her quickly!"
Peng Xuan'an suddenly looked towards the door, "I understand."
He then looked at his daughter, a wry smile on his face, and said, "Xiao Qiu, Dad has to go now."
Peng Qiumo watched the tall figure gradually fade from her sight, her heart filled with indescribable bitterness. Who was Miss Qian Sheng? Why did she have to go see her?
I am clearly your daughter! My blood relative!
She had unspeakable sorrow; she desperately wanted to tell him, "In the three years you were gone, I missed you all so much. I missed Mom so much, I missed Dad so much. Other children were happily with their parents, but I only had my grandparents..."
He's gone, and the room is empty and lonely.
Two lines of tears rolled down Peng Qiumo's cheeks. She was so bitter. It was rare for her to see her father... so rare to see him again... so rare to have survived a near-death experience. Why did her father take her away for an unknown girl?
I'm clearly your daughter...
She buried her face in the pillow, unable to vent her bitterness.
Peng Xuan'an walked out of the house, but did not go to Qian Sheng's residence. Instead, he found a doctor to take care of her.
Alone, he slowly and heavily walked to the main gate, looking at the dust-covered door. His heart paused for a moment, and finally, with heavy steps, he removed the seal and pushed the door open.
The weeds in the courtyard were growing more and more rampant. He walked into the yard and saw that the weeds had grown up to his knees.
He turned his head and fixed his gaze on the tombstone under the lilac tree, which was also covered by grass. He walked over and took out a dagger.
He cut away all the weeds around the grave, then placed a pot of wine in front of the tombstone and sat down in front of the grave.
"Madam, I'm so sorry..."
He tilted his head back to suppress the tears that welled up, blurring his vision, and sighed deeply.
“It’s my fault, I lost Xiao Qiu. When I found her again, she almost…” He turned his head and smiled bitterly, took a small sip from the pot, and murmured, “Let’s not talk about this, Madam. Xiao Qiu said… she misses you.”
"I have been guarding the frontier for three years, but I still can't forget you, I still can't forget the past, and I can't forget this love."
His rough hands gently stroked the cold tombstone, caressing it stroke by stroke, as if trying to find a response.
He leaned against the tombstone, finally unable to hold back his tears, which he buried in his arms. He kept repenting for the past years, for all the things he had done.
"It was me! It was me who bound you to my side like a robber, it was me who took away your freedom, it was me who took away your innocence, you are right to hate me!"
He was heartbroken. "Madam... I know I was wrong. Please come back and see me and Xiao Qiu, okay? Tell me in a dream..."
The night was cold and chilly. The lilac trees in April were covered with tender leaves. The wind rustled through the leaves, and the sound of repentance lingered for a long time.
The next day, he took her to see Pang Linqiu.
One day in the study, the warm candlelight illuminated the room. Xiao Qiu's injuries had improved considerably. Peng Xuan'an was reading military reports, and she sat on his lap.
She said in a low, aggrieved voice, "Dad."
He looked away from her and asked, "What's wrong?"
She pouted, "Dad, Xiao Qiu doesn't like Qian Sheng, can you please not treat her so well..." She became more and more aggrieved as she spoke, her eyes welling up with tears: "Clearly...clearly I am your daughter, why do you treat someone with no blood relation so well? And you've kept her by your side for three whole years..."
Peng Xuan'an was taken aback, then chuckled, "Haha, I treat you both equally well. Besides, isn't it good to have someone with you? Qian Sheng is a very well-behaved child, and she really likes Xiao Qiu."
She instantly became unhappy, pouting and saying, "I don't want to! Dad belongs to Xiao Qiu alone! Why should someone else take Dad away? He's clearly... mine..."
He looked at her with affection, and suddenly thought of Pang Linqiu's personality, and couldn't help but sigh: "If only your mother had your personality back then, how wonderful it would have been, to learn not to let others take away..." He lowered his eyes, feeling inexplicably sad, "to take away what belongs only to me, my husband."
In early May, the wind was warm.
The lilacs in the courtyard burst into bloom, their purple mist drifting over the wall. Several strong branches, laden with blossoms, leaped over the wall, their delicate petals fluttering down in the wind, carpeting the courtyard with a light floral tapestry.
Peng Xuan'an brought a friend into the hospital for a heart-to-heart talk. The two sat facing each other on a marble bench in the courtyard, with several pots of warm wine on the table.
It was early evening that day, dusk had just ended, and the night was just beginning to deepen.
After a few drinks and a few words, he poured out all the hardships of the past years. His friend, who was about forty years old, also showed a sense of the vicissitudes of life.
Zhao Fuhua glanced at him, but his gaze remained fixed on the lilac tree behind him, his deep eyes filled with the image of the purple lilac blossoms. The courtyard was filled with the fragrance of lilacs, and purple petals danced and fell in the breeze.
He asked, "Brother Xuan'an, you're in your thirties now, and Xiao Qiu is growing up. You're so accomplished now, why don't you remarry? That way, Xiao Qiu will have a mother to keep her company."
Peng Xuan'an snapped out of his daze, glanced at him, shook his head and smiled bitterly, "Brother Fuhua, Xiao Qiu will only have one mother in her life, and I will only have one wife. Besides, no one else can replace my wife."
“You are still young and healthy. Why would you want to sever the Peng clan’s lineage for her? How about this, I’ll find you someone who looks similar, and whose temperament can be cultivated over time.”
He was clearly unhappy, but still respectfully replied, "Brother Hua, even if someone resembles her and imitates her every move, the feeling is different. Others are still others, and she is still herself. No one can replace her. Brother Hua, please don't say these things that give me a headache."
Zhao Fuhua didn't know what to say, so he changed the subject, "Hey, I noticed you've been staring at that tree for a long time, what's wrong?"
Peng Xuan'an took a sip of wine and said sadly, "Brother Hua has never experienced the pain of losing his wife, so how can he understand the pain of lovesickness and being reminded of his loved one by seeing objects?"
He stared at the lilac tree for a long time before speaking: "This tree bears the memory of a beautiful woman, and countless joyful recollections."
"Hahaha, I never expected Xuan An to be so affectionate. It's just a pity that he has such a fine reputation; if it were someone else, he would probably have many wives and concubines."
A clove petal fell onto the table. He picked it up, examined it, and then clenched it tightly in his palm.
"What good is a lifetime of glory? I would rather exchange all my glory for a dream, in which my beloved will be by my side when I wake up."
The two talked until 9 PM. Zhao went to China and left for several months. Soon after, he wrote an article and sent it to him.
...Autumn arrives, and the sound of parting draws near. You gaze upon your familiar land, your temples graying, your face etched with sorrow. Time steals away your youth, leaving only memories.
Why do you ask the tree why it remains silent? You silently weep, thinking of your beloved.
This tree was planted by a beautiful woman, carrying countless joyful memories.
Alas, time steals away our wishes; you long for beauty to fade into a dream, but upon waking, your beloved is still by your side. —A Trip to China
The story begins with a scene of dissolving a marriage, and ends with a scene of husband and wife.
She hated him, and he loved her.
Is the bumpy road a sign of love or hate?
One person is immersed in the play, while the other is awakened from the drama. He never knew it was just a play, and she never knew the ending would be separation.
--The End
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