Storms and Tranquility
Time always likes to play the magician quietly:
The twins' basketball uniforms had already been changed to size 150, and their figures leaping up to shoot on the court were much taller than last year;
Liou passed the Level 3 certificate in street dance, and the arc of his clothes rising up as he spun became more and more neat;
The twin boys and girls were wearing the Danfeng International Kindergarten's dinosaur backpacks. The little tail on the backpack kept bouncing when they ran...
It wasn't until one day, while sorting through old books and running my fingertips over the yellowed pages, that I realized that the grains of sand we casually call "daily life" had already, without our noticing, piled up into a gentle desert before my eyes. When the wind blew, all it carried were sweet echoes.
On February 12, 2025, after the family had the Lantern Festival dinner, they discussed one thing - the tenth anniversary of Wen Feng's death.
That night, Wenqing tentatively asked Xiaofeng what she thought, and she only replied softly, "Let me think about it."
On February 27, 2025, Jiang Heng, Jiang Wan, Jiang Hui, Jiang Tao, Jiang Wenqing, Rao Xiaofeng, Jiang Zhengli, and Jiang Zhenghan gathered at the cemetery to hold a solemn tenth anniversary memorial ceremony.
Mom and Dad held white silk in their hands and bent down to wipe the dust off the tombstone; my second and fourth uncles had solemn expressions as they placed seasonal fresh fruits, sake, incense, candles and other offerings on the table.
His son Zhengli Zhenghan performed the ceremony of three kneelings and nine kowtows according to ancient rituals, and the sound of his clothes touching the ground was audible.
Jiang Wenqing gently stroked his brother's portrait, tracing the outline of the frame with his fingertips; Rao Xiaofeng burned his handwritten letter in a copper basin. In the curling green smoke, the letter turned into gray butterflies, carrying the thoughts of the living to the other side.
Wen Feng:
You are a coward, a possessive beast trapped in a shell, a shadow wrapped in a selfish shell... But I will never be able to wait for even a single explanation, apology or confession from you in person.
You never dared to speak. You hid your love in your throat; you hid your illness and refused to talk about it; you didn't even have the courage to open that signed document in front of me... How could I hate you like this?
I've been violated by you! Isn't love meant to be fulfilled? Isn't love meant to be let go? Is this love for me, or jealousy and a rivalry with Wenqing? I racked my brains, but couldn't figure it out.
You turned around and left without saying anything; after you left, you left me those emails. Did you ever think about how I would be able to receive them?
How should I face your deception? Your betrayal?
How should I face Wenqing? Is he an innocent victim, or a perpetrator drawn into this?
How can I face my entire family? They've deprived me of my right to know, my dignity, and my sincerity just for the sake of "your bloodline." Who else can I trust in this world?
How should I face those twins? They look just like you. When they were little, they resisted shaving their heads, just like you. Now, like you, they love running in the sun with a basketball...
Children are innocent. I love them, every fetal movement during pregnancy, every night we embraced each other after giving birth, those real, heart-wrenching ties that cannot be broken.
I love Wenqing too. He is the only person I have ever given my whole heart to...
Everything I had believed in, including life, marriage, and even the meaning of pregnancy, was disproven one by one. My life had been quietly altered by you. The overwhelming chaos and pain pushed me away from Wenqing. Later, I stayed with my child, talked to the doctor about my problems, and tried to rebuild a bridge of truth with Wenqing...
It's so difficult. Especially when I suddenly think of you.
For ten years, I've been trapped in anger, my rationality shattered, I've endured long nights of numbness, and even harbored thoughts of revenge. Now, I've finally reconciled with myself—let this bitter love be the backdrop for the rest of our lives.
Over the past ten years, my love for Wenqing and my concern for my children have ultimately become the strength that sustains me. Now, Wenqing and I have twins, a boy and a girl, who are almost four years old.
Wen Feng, may you be embraced by love in heaven. So long!
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