Chapter 2928: One Life 06

The small courtyard remained the same small courtyard; the beans at the corner bore well year after year, and the branches of the old scholar tree shaded half the sky.

Neighbors came to visit, and they still saw the two busy in the courtyard—one planing wood, the other reading; life went on just as before.

In the twelfth lunar month, the first snow of winter fell.

The snow fell heavily, swirling wildly, burying the whole city in a white expanse.

School let out early, the carpenter's shop stopped work, Jin Chen braved the snow home, stamped off the snow at the door, took out the red cloth he had grabbed and two red candles bought from the peddler.

That night, they set up an incense table under the old scholar tree and knelt side by side.

No three matchmakers and six betrothals, no hall full of guests, not even a second person knew; only in this home they had rebuilt brick by brick.

With no high hall to bow to, they bowed deeply toward the void.

This bow paid respect to the impermanent heavens and earth, to the fickle fate, which ultimately let them find each other in the vast sea of people.

Then they turned to face each other; Jin Chen knelt first, looked up at Chenshu, his eyes pure and ardent.

Chenshu's heart gave a jolt, and he slowly knelt as well, facing each other, bowing deeply again.

With this bow they vowed to share life and death, bear fortune and misfortune together, and remain unchanged this lifetime.

Finally, each took a bowl of wine, arms entwined, they lifted their heads and drank it dry; the wine was fiercely hot, making Jin Chen frown.

Chenshu saw Jin Chen's face pucker from the spicy wine and suddenly smiled, "Is it hard to drink?"

"It is." Jin Chen admitted frankly.

"Then why do you still drink?" "It's what you drink for the wedding."

Chenshu reached out, brushed the snow‑wet hair from Jin Chen's forehead, and said, "Fool."

Jin Chen didn't object, took Chenshu's hand and touched it to his lips, saying, "Come on, let's get up—the ground is cold."

Chenshu rose with his support, his knees numb from the cold, walking with a limp.

Jin Chen, however, naturally scooped him up in a horizontal hold and headed indoors.

The stove fire burned bright, the room warm; he set Chenshu on the edge of the bed, squatted, and rubbed his knees.

Snow was still falling outside the window.

Inside the room glowed the stove's fire and the two red candles that had burned halfway down.

——

Those were their happiest few years.

Sometimes Chenshu felt dazed; Jin Chen was becoming more and more unlike his former self.

Former Jin Chen approached everything earnestly, stiff and unbending.

He said what he meant, answered what was asked, and never overthought.

Now it's different.

That night, Chenshu slept in a haze, feeling someone lightly kiss him.

"Chenshu, I like you."

After a silence, he added, "I like you very much."

Chenshu finally couldn't help it and opened his eyes.

Jin Chen was looking at him, his eyes bright in the dark, showing no panic at being caught, "You're not asleep."

Chenshu helplessly turned over, lay in his arms, "Even if I'd slept, you'd have woken me."

"Then why didn't you respond?"

"Respond to what?"

"Respond to what I said."

Chenshu reached out, pinched his cheek, "I know."

Jin Chen was dissatisfied, "You just say 'I know'?"

"What should I say then?"

Jin Chen thought, then emphasized, "Say you also like me."

"I also like you," Chenshu said.

Jin Chen satisfied, leaned in, kissed Chenshu's lips, "All right, you can go back to sleep."

Chenshu chuckled, held Jin Chen's hand in his palm, and slowly closed his eyes.

Day by day, month by month, year by year.

The days passed just like that.

Until they thought they could really keep going like that forever.

——

But some people are born in this life to undergo tribulation.

That year, Chenshu was thirty‑one.

When summer arrived, rumors began in the city.

They said there was an anomaly in the mountains outside the city; someone saw light on the mountain at night, flickering, not like ordinary lamps.

That day was an ordinary afternoon.

Chenshu was entrusted by a village school outside the city to give a lesson on an introductory text to the children there, and incidentally collect payment for the calligraphy he had previously done.

The village school lay at the foot of the hills outside the city, not far away, but one had to pass through a small mountain forest.

Jin Chen had intended to go too, but Chenshu stopped him; he had taken on an urgent job a few days earlier, needing to rush a set of tables and chairs, and the employer was pressing him.

"It's just a quick there‑and‑back; the mountain path is familiar, stay at home and relax," Chenshu said gently, lifting a hand to sweep the sweat‑dampened bangs from Jin Chen's forehead.

"I'll go myself," Chenshu said. "It's not far; I'll be back before dark."

Jin Chen was still a little uneasy, but he never went against Chenshu's wishes; he merely nodded, handed him a bamboo tube filled with clean water and a fresh cloth, and said, "Come back early."

Chenshu walked far away, and when he looked back, Jin Chen was still standing at the courtyard gate.

That day the weather was fine, the sunshine warm and cozy; Chenshu politely declined the tutor's invitation to stay for a meal, took the mountain path home, and figured this money could buy Jin Chen a new piece of cloth for a summer shirt.

Just as he reached the mountain base, the sky changed.

Just moments ago it had been clear blue skies; in an instant dark clouds pressed down, the wind rose, howling as it swept from deep within Shan Lin, blowing so hard people could barely keep their footing.

Chenshu's heart jumped, he quickened his steps, hoping to get home before the rain.

But something was roiling inside the clouds; a dull thunder rumbled from far away, drawing nearer and growing louder.

Chenshu suddenly felt his heart pounding.