La vida de la gente del campo en la ciudad durante la dinastía Song

Capítulo 133

"Yufei..." I finally couldn't hold back any longer and broke the silence, "Liu...Cen Feng?"

I felt someone approaching me step by step, the footsteps so light they were almost silent, the warmth of their presence making me instinctively take a step back. A pair of hands supported me from behind. I steadied myself: "Liu Cenfeng, it's you..."

"So... this is what you look like." Yufei's voice went from being hoarse at first to becoming smooth. He spoke in a voice that I knew very well, but it was warm yet surprised me. "Galan, so this is what you look like."

I froze, my body stiffening involuntarily: "You...aren't Yufei?"

"Yes." He smiled slightly, I couldn't see it, but I could feel his smile. "I am not Yufei, not Liu Cenfeng."

"Who...are you..." I felt something stuck in my throat, something burning in my heart, something surging in my blood, boiling, little by little, until it was a blazing boil. Impossible! This is absolutely impossible! Something I've never even dreamed of, something I know is absolutely impossible.

"Galan." Cool fingers gently brushed aside the stray hairs in front of me, the movement as tender as if cherishing a precious treasure. The speed of her breath, the tone of her voice, were so familiar that my heart trembled. "Galan, I can finally touch you."

"Xu...Xu Lie!" I cried out in a panic, and Xu Lie quickly steadied me. I gripped his hand tightly and asked, "What color are his eyes?" Silence. I asked again, even more urgently, "What color are his eyes?!"

"Coffee... coffee color, I guess. No... more like... brown!" Xu Lie said uncertainly.

I stood there, panting, my heart pounding louder and louder. I took a step forward and felt warm, real breath. The humid heat I hadn't felt in so long filled my blinding eyes. I spoke in a very soft, gentle voice, as if afraid of shattering a beautiful dream: "Stand still, don't move. Don't move an inch. Let me make sure this is real."

“Alright, Garan,” he said softly above me. “I won’t move.”

I reached out my trembling hand, first touching the soft strands of hair, then the smooth, broad forehead, the slender eyebrows, the slightly cool eyelids, the high, straight nose, the thin lips, the sharp jawline…

I stopped touching him, my voice a little hoarse: "It's no use... I've never even touched him before... I've even forgotten what he looks like... I've even forgotten..."

"Galan." His fingers brushed against my eye sockets, the wetness spreading from my face to his body. He wasn't always this gentle; he always scolded me mercilessly, criticized me, and mocked me. What made him so careful with even his breath?

“Galan,” he said, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember. We can get to know each other again. My name is Han Fei, courtesy name Zimo, the top scholar of the thirteenth year of the Jiahe era in the Jin Yao Kingdom…”

I abruptly reached out and covered his mouth. His trembling lips moved slightly in my palm, his burning breath seeming to melt the blood in my body into tears of joy mingled with the pain of a lifetime. Zi Mo, how could I forget this name? Han Zi Mo, how could I forget this lonely soul?

I heard my aunt playing music downstairs. It wasn't an English song or a Japanese song, but the one my brother and I had put in a few days ago: Wang Leehom's "Returning to Roots".

My mind suddenly became peaceful and serene, as if something that had been drifting for a long time had finally found its home. Even my voice became so soft that it could melt into water at any moment.

"Zi Mo," I said in a softer voice, "Do you believe it? I've already conquered Feng Yin in less than three years."

I smiled, a smile that was both proud and coquettish, like showing off a treasure: "Zimo, I've regained all my memories of Linyu, broken free from Jinyao and Yang Yi's control, and with only 100,000 troops, I've gained absolute control of Fengyin. If the world is to be unified, Fengyin must be taken first. To take Fengyin, winning hearts and minds is paramount, conquering cities is secondary; the strategy of winning hearts and minds is mainly used against three people: Izumo Island, Yang Yi, and Mu Shuangshuang..."

I wanted to laugh, I wanted to show off, so why did tears fall uncontrollably? "Zimo, your last plan, I finally succeeded. I haven't trusted anyone easily since. I am the pillar of strength for all the soldiers. Although it sometimes hurts a lot, I've made it through. I'm no longer... the one who will make you worry, the one who will drive you crazy..."

The three words "Lin Jialan" disappeared into his tight embrace. He held me tightly, with the same fervent affection as three years ago, but without the despair of the past: "Jialan! It's me! It's me, Zimo! I'm back!"

Tears streamed down my face, soaking his shirt. I finally reached out my trembling hand and embraced him. What mercy from heaven allowed him to live! What forgiveness from the gods allowed him to be reborn! I have nothing to complain about now! The person I once lost, as vital as breathing, has finally returned… It's not a dream! It's all not a dream!

"Zimo..." I whimpered like a kitten. How long had it been since I cried so weakly, how long since I felt such overwhelming emotion? I hugged his thin body tightly, repeating over and over, "Zimo... I missed you so much... You'll never know how much I missed you..."

The wounds of the past, you feel no pain anymore, but that doesn't mean they've truly stopped hurting; you've just gotten used to the pain. The people you once missed, you think you've forgotten, but that doesn't mean you've truly forgotten; you've just gotten used to the suffocating longing.

We don't want to endure such a cruel habit, so we should cherish the hard-won happiness we have now even more.

Far from home, I feel a deep sense of melancholy, which transforms into an autumn night.

But I am like a fallen leaf returning to its roots, falling into your heart.

A touch of melancholy, a touch of loneliness, all willingly endured.

My love is like fallen leaves returning to their roots; home... is only found by your side...

Xiao Yi

2008.3.5 19:16

Chapter 17 Returning to the Roots (End)

Next update: Friday evening, March 7th.

The next chapter is written from Yihan's perspective... The transition was a bit too fast!

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Author's Note:

Chapter 18 Green Robe and Silver Threads (Part 1)

Chapter 18 Green Robe and Silver Threads (Part 1)

As dawn broke, Yi Han woke up as usual. He sat up in bed, got dressed, washed up, and went out.

A pale, but not very bright, moon still hung in the gray sky, indicating that it was only a little past the hour of Yin (3-5 AM). Recalling Yao'er's constant admonitions over the past few days, the Frost Sword in his hand seemed to grow heavy.

Turning left after leaving the house leads to her room. Yi Han glanced away and walked past, but after only a few steps, she couldn't resist turning back. She silently flung the door open and stepped inside.

The room was pitch black, with the doors and windows tightly shut. Although it was warm, it was darker than his own room. Of course, Yi Han didn't mind. With his level of martial arts skill, as long as there was even a sliver of light, he could move as naturally as in daylight.

He walked slowly and silently to the bedside, only to see a large bulge. Yi Han chuckled unconsciously. She was still just as afraid of the cold and heat. She would start wearing thin clothes in May, and from June onwards she would refuse to sunbathe. Just after September, she would start wrapping herself in a quilt. After mid-October, just like now, her hands and feet would feel cold when she slept at night.

Before, when he held her to sleep, she would always hang her whole body on him. Yi Han gently placed his hand on the curled-up bag, his palm, warmed by his inner strength, transmitting warmth into the quilt like silk threads.

Sure enough, after a while, the large bundle moved, and the tightly wrapped blanket loosened a little. Yi Han gently lifted the blanket covering her face, revealing a face with messy hair, yet as delicate and beautiful as a pear blossom.

She was still so pale, still so thin, still so beautiful. Yi Han reached out and gently brushed aside the disheveled hair on her face, straightening it strand by strand.

His fingertips traced her smooth forehead, willow-leaf eyebrows, tightly closed eyes, pale red cheeks, and warm, rosy lips... A tingling sensation, like being struck by lightning, spread to his fingertips. Yi Han stared blankly at the woman who was lost in her dream, unconsciously sucking his finger, and a suppressed pain welled up in his heart like a tide.

Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, a hand that had emerged from under the covers, still slightly cool, grabbed his wrist and whispered two words: "Yihan..."

A joy he had never dared to hope for, accompanied by excruciating pain, swept over his entire body. How he longed to kiss the lips that uttered his name, how he longed to embrace the frail body he had been yearning for day and night, how he longed to possess her love forever and never share it with anyone else.