Over the years, he deliberately blocked out news from Qingfeng Prefecture, writing a letter home every so often to prevent his family from worrying, letting them know he was still alive.
The departure back then wasn’t out of hatred, but out of love. Seeking but not obtaining, loving but not receiving—that torment was too painful, almost crushing him.
Never before had he felt so desperate. Was he too greedy, was he expecting too much, and always without response, that he tormented and tortured himself in such a way?
He could no longer bear it.
That night, the rain poured heavily...
He shook his head, stopping himself from thinking further. It wasn’t possible, everything would be fine.
"Daddy?"
The child woke up, climbing out of the carriage. The coachman was startled, afraid the child would fall off and hurriedly scooped the child into his arms.
The child was unaware of worry, extending little hands. "Daddy, hug!"
Yixuan looked at this child; Wu Wang looked very much like his mother. At some point, he had started preparing little purple clothes for Wu Wang to wear.
Wu Wang, as it was hopeless, was also not delusional, no longer fantasizing, no longer having hope. Yet it turned out, in the end, to understand that Wu Wang—never forget—because he always had an obsession in his heart, because he had never forgotten.
He took Wu Wang into his arms, his eyes already bloodshot, his heart trembling, yet his face was very calm.
Looking towards the distant road, past events replayed in his mind.
"Go, speed up!!"
At his order, the convoy sped up again. The closer they got to Zhenxin, the more desolate the view became; mountains cracked, the road was once blocked, forcing detours.
But no matter how, in such continuous day-and-night travel, he had finally returned.
Qingfeng Prefecture, Balibao.
This place seemed like a dead domain.
Since leaving, he had never thought that one day he would return to the place where he once lived with his brothers, once lived with the master, under such circumstances.
Yet whenever he woke from a midnight dream, he dreamed of her, dreamed of them, as if he’d never left. Eldest Brother brews tea, Second Brother plays the zither, Third Brother teases by the master’s side, Fourth Brother silently guards by the master’s side, Fifth Brother also stays close to the master—they lived such plain and warm days, watching the stars at night, enjoying sunrises and sunsets, they...
Purple Garden.
His heart tightened, the carriage did not stop; from afar, he saw the broken walls, the ruins, just as he remembered.
He dismounted, Little Wuwang glanced at Yixuan, then reached out a little hand to hold his father’s big hand. His steps weren’t steady, yet he tried to take waddling short strides. "Daddy, happy!" He plucked a tuft of little grass from the ground—it was spring, the fresh tender grass soft and lovely. He held the grass high, trying to make his dad happy.
"Smile!"
This clever little boy, with childish words, had a bright, shining smile on his face, looking very endearing. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novel•fire.net
Yixuan bent down and picked the child up from the ground. Afterward, he took a deep breath and stepped towards the ruins.
The people he brought searched the ruins, whether for the living or the dead, ultimately hoping to find something, but after digging in the ruins for a long time, they found nothing. Neither the living nor the dead.
"Master?"
The servant cautiously looked at Yixuan: "It’s true that people used to live here, but they left during the earthquake. There’s no one here, and no bloodstains can be seen. I imagine the people who lived here are safe."