C1 It Was Such a Lonely Thing to Say

Yuu Ziqing thought the women in the picture on the wall of his father's room were his mother before he was ten years old, and the women looked like they were the best of the best. Wearing a large gown embroidered with golden flowers, large groups of peonies were glittering with golden light. Her hair was combed perfectly, and there were golden accessories inserted into it. Sitting quietly in the photo, their facial features were filled with an indescribable gentleness and kindness. The golden bracelet on his wrist appeared in his long sleeve. Yuu Ziqing could not imagine what a person like this would look like when he was alive. He only felt a warm feeling in his heart when he saw her. The coldness that had existed in his body for a long time would be swept away.

Her father's photo was with the women. Her father was very good looking. He was very tall and had delicate features. His face was so thin that he looked listless, and he had an aura that made people sad. Both her and her brother had inherited his phoenix eyes, but they could be considered somewhere else. She was not the same as his brother, she had never discovered it. Even the smallest movement could be considered to have nothing in common.

Yuu Ziqing's memory of his mother could only be regarded as the vague sound of footsteps. It was the sound of a thousand layers of cloth stepping on the ground made of stone. It was calm and peaceful. When he was young, his mother would often wake up in the middle of the night to coax his younger brother. In the quiet night, only his mother was still awake. She was singing a beautiful ballad for her little brother to hear. Her voice was even gentler than the lightest wind in the night. Other than that, in every corner of her memory, Yuu Ziqing could not find any information about his mother.

His brother was a medicine pot. He had taken countless medicines since he was young. He had spent a lot of money, but he was still that skinny and yellow. If he couldn't even speak loudly, he would be so tired that he wouldn't be able to catch his breath. If he walked a few more steps, he would be so tired that he would sweat profusely. The Su Zhou aunt said that it was not because the young master was not in good health. She still didn't know where to say it. She didn't know what they meant when they said it. She only felt a faint sense of hostility.

Grandma was a dignified parent. Her face was stiff as if it had been cut by a knife. Every line clearly hid her unsuppressible coldness because of her instructions. The air in the house finally had the scent of a secret floating in it, as if there was something terrifying hidden in some dark place. . . Especially the way the servants looked at her. Yuu Ziqing felt that even if it was as if they were looking at something indecent, They were finally talking about something behind her back. They kept quiet the moment Yuu Ziqing came in front of them. As if nothing had happened, they started to do their own things. She had a lot of anger in her heart. She often had to find an opportunity to vent it out.

Yuu Ziqing finally loved to be alone like a lonely rabbit. He moved things that only belonged to his own world, and she liked the silence when she was alone. At that time, she only had herself facing her own shadow and soul. She didn't even need to look at other people's eyes when she wanted to cry or laugh. However, her little brother would often play the role of a stalker, following behind her and chattering non-stop. A few ridiculous words would always pop up in his weak voice. Yuu Ziqing liked to touch his pale yellow hair and tell him stories about ghosts in the forest. He was so scared that he even shook Yuu Ziqing's hand with tears in his eyes to let her continue. It was because of his illness. She often saw him waving at her from the window when she passed by her brother's room. She would pass the wild flowers and grass she plucked to him and tease him. She would tell him some jokes that she had heard from the outside, and the quiet courtyard was filled with their laughter.

She hated this place. The decadent smell of this place seemed to want to corrode everything that could not be seen. It silently corroded everything, leaving nothing behind. The wall that was always covered with moss, the wall that the climbing tiger was leaning on. . . The damp ground was covered with grass that had never died. Life in this husband's restaurant was like falling into a bottomless well. Silently, the sun that had never changed for a thousand years and ten thousand years. . . Every afternoon, the usual boring afternoon nap could only be considered as the scenery outside the window all the time. Spring, summer, autumn, and winter were merely four murals that had never changed each year. After looking at it for eighteen years, he had long gotten sick of it.

Yuu Ziqing never went to his grandmother's room. There was a smell of Camphoragate Balls drifting in the air all year round as he said. Even time had changed shapes from the smell of old leather mixed with the musty smell. Like a coffin for millions of years, he opened the lid of the coffin. It was unknown what would jump out of the coffin. The grandmother in the mirror had always been like that. The white hair on her head did not increase or decrease.

The eldest brother was a silent scholar with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. When he saw him, he was holding a Confucius book or a poem. He had read too many books. It was as if he had been brought into another world and had been immersed in his realm all day long. The matters of the mortal world did not seem to have much to do with him. He was already 28 years old. His family had said many things about his marriage, but he had finally plunged into his own study. He left the girl who came for the blind date awkwardly there, one after another. No one would be willing to call their daughter to their house for a blind date. Yuu Ziqing often went back to borrow one or two books from him. But he would never discuss anything with him, as if he was afraid that he would bring her to a place she was unwilling to go. She had a lot of expectations for her future. She definitely wouldn't spend her life in a daze like her big brother. She would have a husband who loved her, a few smart and cute children. . . The 16-year-old sky was filled with sweet dreams. Those dark clouds could only be regarded as the occasional fear of entering a dream.

Because it was a matter of love, his second uncle was obstructed by his grandmother. In front of everyone, and the woman who could have become his second aunt, they both jumped into the well to the south of the garden and died for the two of them. Grandma told people to cover the well and never open it again. Some of the servants in the house said that they had heard people singing in the middle of the yard in the middle of night. They sang a farewell song. Anyone who heard it would cry. The love of Second Uncle was considered a musical when he was alive. Because of the difference in status and identity, the family members strongly opposed it. His family also thought that his daughter was not worthy of the Yuu family and had locked her up a few times. But he had let her run out. Once, she was drunk and ran to Old Lady Yuu, pointing at the old lady's nose and saying that even if she did not want her son to be with her, she would not let her son be with her. She would die with him. At that time, it would be too late for her to regret it. Old Lady Yuu was so angry at her that she stuttered when she spoke. The only person in the family who could support the scene was the second son, Yu Ziqi. Of course, the old lady would not let such a vulgar woman ruin his family's reputation. She immediately got her servants to beat her up fiercely and even said that even if she died, she wouldn't let them be together. Now that he had angered Ziqi, there was nothing he could do about the old lady. He hugged his half-dead loved ones and jumped into the deep well without hesitation. The sound of splashing water often appeared in the old lady's dreams. Yuu Ziqing was not there yet, but he heard all of this from Mrs Zhang's mouth. In her imagination, Second Uncle and that girl's wet corpse. . . Her pale face, especially the bone-piercing cold air that came from the well. That was the first time she felt the terror of death.