Jiang Yan was just a brief interlude in Tian Zhennian's life.
She was merely the beautiful, fairy-like neighbor girl from his childhood; the one who first came to mind when he thought of the word "beautiful"; the one who awoke his first stirrings of affection...
The wedding car drove away, the Chen Family's doors were locked, and torn confetti from firecrackers littered the ground, only to be swept away later.
Time eventually wears down memories.
Tian Tang Village regained its tranquility, the serenity inherent to their tiny village. Tian Zhennian grew up in this peaceful little village, becoming even more accomplished than his elder brother.
But what use was that, in the end?
Tian Zhennian studied diligently, helping on the farm during vacations. He was no longer the boy who climbed rooftops all day.
Only on the rare occasions when he visited the city would he stop at the street facing the Chen Family's mansion to eat a bowl of noodles and inquire about Miss Chen's wellbeing from the noodle vendor.
The vendor would perk up, smiling broadly each time as he replied: "Why, she's a married lady now, and doing very well indeed. Just the other day, I saw her going out to see a show."
It was truly rare, perhaps not even once a year. Yet the vendor still remembered him, once asking curiously after answering his question: "Say, do you have some connection with Lady Zhang? Why don't you just visit the Chen Family?"
Tian Zhennian finished his noodles, wiped his mouth, and said: "No reason, just asking casually."
This "casual" asking spanned decades, until the vendor had great-grandchildren.
Tian's mother frequently urged him to meet potential brides, hoping he would marry. He would just smile and flatly refuse: "Don't push me, Mother. I won't marry. If you want grandchildren, ask my elder brother."
His mother tried everything without success. At first, she was upset with her younger son, but as she aged, she came to accept it.
Tian Zhennian felt this was for the best, living his simple life, content that she was happy and unbothered if she wasn't.
For a time, he became busy with work and didn't visit the city for a long while.
But when he started feeling an emptiness inside, he hurried back to eat his noodles, expecting the old vendor to repeat the same words. Yet there was no response.
Looking up, he saw the trembling old vendor bringing a bowl of noodles, his face heavily creased like tree bark, his voice hoarse yet carrying an elderly person's compassion as he said: "Lady Zhang, she passed away a fortnight ago."
"I heard her health was never good. She saw many doctors, but none could help. That's just fate, everyone has their destiny. Born to wealth and privilege, yet gone so young..." The old vendor rambled on, but Tian Zhennian didn't hear a word, standing for the first time before the Chen Family's mansion.
Filled with immense anger, he thought, "Zhang Xuyun was so useless, he couldn't even keep the woman entrusted to him!"
Tian Zhennian wanted to barge in and settle the score, but then a young man in white mourning clothes emerged, his face weary as he asked: "Are you here about that business deal too? Go back, and come again in a few days. My sister has passed, and I have no time for anything else right now."
Yes, let her depart in peace. Tian Zhennian's lips quivered as he turned and left, his retreating figure full of desolation.
Chen Fangyu blinked his dry eyes and went back inside.
Tian Zhennian spent two dazed days at home before returning to the city, intending to ask where Miss Chen was buried. But he overheard people saying Zhang Xuyun had died too.
Tian Zhennian suddenly felt utterly drained, able only to crouch by the roadside as tears streamed unbidden from his eyes. He thought that Zhang Xuyun must have fought desperately to keep her alive.
The world seemed empty.
The wind blew a white spirit money slip towards him. His eyes stung, yet he instinctively picked it up with trembling hands and clutched it tightly, just like the torn red firecracker papers from long ago.
Tian Zhennian didn't ask about Miss Chen's grave. He clutched that spirit money, as if holding onto his last lingering thought, and went home.