Chapter 57: A Grandma

"Wow, that big brother is so powerful..."

"Little sister, is your hair on fire? Won’t that hurt her...?"

"Is she Hong Haier...?"

"Oh, she’s a girl, Hong Haier’s a boy, or is he a girl...?"

"Blue flame, that’s Blue Haier, hahaha..."

Zhu Guangfa couldn’t remember how long it had been since his daughter had been this lively.

His daughter circled around her mother, chattering nonstop.

Du Xiuzhi had wanted to tease her by withholding the news, but couldn’t withstand her persistent pleading.

Zhu Guangfa stood on a chair and took down two bottles of liquor from the top shelf.

Du Xiuzhi stood below and reached out to catch them.

Zhu Guangfa widened his eyes in shock: "How can you catch things?"

"You just noticed?" Du Xiuzhi gave him a look.

Then she said: "I don’t fully understand it myself. When Master Shen extended his finger and formed a seal, I felt a faint blue light rush toward me, then my body grew heavy, a sense of solid ground beneath my feet—no more of that constant emptiness, that lightness, as if I were floating on the wind..."

"Even though no one can still see me, I feel no real difference from the living..."

This wasn’t surprising, since the Nine You Demon Lord, who bound the spirits on the Ten Thousand Souls Banner, could incite warfare, bewitch minds, and drain life essence; though not a ghost cultivator himself, he had gained some ghost cultivator abilities through the banner’s power.

Upon hearing this, Zhu Guangfa perked up immediately, excitedly saying: "Then let’s ask Master Shen to let you stay with us forever."

"Do you think the two strands of qi I passed to you are some kind of gift? Prolonged exposure will corrode your bodies and turn you into living corpses..."

"Is it that serious?"

"Then, Mom, how long can you stay with us?"

Zhu Tingting beside her also grew quiet, her small face filled with sorrow; Zhu Guangfa’s expression turned grave too.

"Enough, don’t be like this. To reunite with you again is already great fortune—why demand more?" Du Xiuzhi hugged the two.

Seeing his daughter upset, Zhu Guangfa quickly changed the subject: "Are these two bottles of liquor too meager to give Master Shen?"

Du Xiuzhi smiled: "For Master Shen, anything you give is too meager. If that’s the case, give him your best."

"Then okay, let’s go out and buy something else—just two bottles of liquor doesn’t seem proper."

"But you haven’t drunk these two bottles of Xifeng yet?"

"Hehe~ I’m keeping them as a memory." Zhu Guangfa scratched his head with a foolish grin.

His words sparked curiosity in Zhu Tingting beside him.

"What kind of memory?"

Du Xiuzhi smiled and explained: "These were the liquor your father brought when he first came to my home, to give to your grandfather. They were bought with his first paycheck."

"Then why doesn’t Grandpa drink them now?"

"No, because your grandfather didn’t want to drink them either, so I brought them back."

Speaking of her father-in-law, Zhu Guangfa asked softly: "Did you see them?"

Du Xiuzhi shook her head, smiling: "Probably because you took good care of me, you satisfied him, and he had no regrets, so he left."

Zhu Guangfa only gazed at her deeply, pressed his lips together, and murmured softly: "Not quite..."

He had always blamed himself for her death, feeling he hadn’t cared for her well enough.

Yin Xingyue’s hometown was a tiny, remote village.

The village was mostly filled with elderly people and children; Yin Xingyue had once been one of them.

But she refused to call herself a left-behind child, because her father was dead, not away working and leaving her behind—sometimes, she even felt a little glad about it.

Yin Xingyue’s grandmother was called Yi Po; everyone called her that, but even Yin Xingyue didn’t know her real name.

Even this surname wasn’t hers—it was her grandfather’s.

Yi Po’s life was bitter: she lost her husband in youth, her son in old age, and then her only granddaughter...

So Yi Po completely broke down; her back could no longer straighten, and she walked hunched over, head bowed.

She walked slowly, but very carefully; she didn’t know why she was still alive, but for now, she couldn’t die yet.

Sometimes, living was a kind of pain.

But for Yi Po, it was just the same—she’d suffered too much in her life, and her heart had gone numb.

For her, living brought no joy, and death brought no sorrow.

Living was just living—it meant nothing.

But the one thing that often made her sigh with regret was letting her granddaughter Xiao Yue go with her mother.

She couldn’t understand why Xiao Yue would kill herself—wasn’t living better?

She often asked herself this, but she had no answer.

Yet she hoped Xiao Yue was alive, hoped to see her, to hear her call her Grandma...

So she regretted it—deeply, deeply regretted it...

So her back bent even more...

"I didn’t want to..."

This was the phrase Yi Po spoke most often.

But—

Xiao Yue had raised a puppy; the puppy was obedient—whenever Xiao Yue called, it would happily run over.

But one day, Yi Po asked her where the puppy was.

She smiled and said she split it—half gave to Uncle Si, half to Wang Dana from the west village.

She knew then she couldn’t keep Xiao Yue by her side—she had to be like her father, to study, to go somewhere better to study.

But why did it have to be this way? I didn’t want to...

Yi Po regretted it.

She struggled to drag the small cart behind her—it was a gift from the shopkeeper at the village entrance, who said it was a freebie from a detergent company; city elders liked pulling them to buy groceries, so the shopkeeper gave her one to help her collect trash.

Now, her cart was piled high with trash: cardboard boxes, plastic bottles, scrap wire—completely full.

Yi Po had to drag it to town to sell it; the town wasn’t far—ten or so li, half an hour by bicycle.

But for Yi Po, bent over, the town was far enough—each trip took her half a day.

Yi Po put her hands behind her back, pounded her waist, and stopped again.

But she didn’t rest long—she resumed dragging the cart forward.

This time, it felt much lighter—but she quickly realized: this lack of resistance meant someone was pushing her from behind.

She turned around and saw a familiar figure standing behind her, smiling warmly.

"Grandma~"

Bathed in the afternoon sun, her smile grew even brighter.

Yi Po felt no fear, no surprise—only an indescribable calm and joy.

She grinned, revealing her few remaining teeth; every wrinkle on her face seemed to glow with happiness.

"It’s Xiao Yue," she said.

"Grandma~" Yin Xingyue called again.

"You’ve come to take Grandma?"

Death was truly something to be glad about.