"Xiao Xiao." Jiang Nanshu squatted down.
The black and brown patched cat jumped out and rubbed against Jiang Nanshu’s feet incessantly.
Jiang Nanshu lifted her hand to stroke its glossy fur and smiled with a curve in her brows and eyes, "You’re still here."
"Miss, you’re back."
An aged voice came from behind the door.
It was an old man with gray hair.
Jiang Nanshu, holding the cat, stood up, grinning brightly at him, "Uncle Qi, I’m back. When did your hair turn so white?"
Uncle Qi’s face was covered with wrinkles, his eyebrows long, the kind seen on the longevity Buddha in paintings.
He squinted at Jiang Nanshu with a smile, "I’ve grown old, I’m sixty-five this year. Before, you used to help me dye my hair. You’ve been gone for three years, and no one’s been around to dye it for me."
"I’ll dye it for you now, a darker hair makes you look younger." Jiang Nanshu walked inside, still holding the cat.
Actually, there hadn’t been much change here.
The room that had caught fire was also restored to its original state under Jiang Nanshu’s persistence.
The house could be restored to look exactly the same, but she could no longer see that person anymore.
Jiang Nanshu previously couldn’t bear to stay in a place filled with Zhou Yanxu’s aura, as it continuously reminded her of the past, trapping her in a cycle of internal strife.
Seeing it again now, her mind had undergone some changes.
The upheavals of the past seemed not so difficult to overcome, and her once-indelible memories of some people were gradually fading. Jiang Nanshu didn’t know whether these changes meant everything was getting better, but she wouldn’t remain stuck in the past anymore.
After dyeing Uncle Qi’s hair and feeding Xiao Xiao cat food,
Jiang Nanshu wanted to tidy up Zhou Yanxu’s ashes and bring them to Port City for burial.
She searched in Zhou Yanxu’s room, on the bookshelf, but couldn’t find them anywhere.
"Don’t bother looking, the young master’s ashes were taken away by the second young master."
Uncle Qi appeared at the door.
He looked much more spirited with his hair dyed black.
He walked in,
wiping away the barely noticeable dust on the shelf with a cloth.
This room had originally been burned down.
At Jiang Nanshu’s strong insistence, it was completely restored, down to the exact position of each book. Jiang Nanshu could arrange everything neatly, just as if Zhou Yanxu were still alive.
"Zhou Yanbai? What does he want with Zhou Yanxu’s ashes?"
Jiang Nanshu said, puzzled.
Uncle Qi gave a bitter smile, "Out of resentment, he hated that the eldest young master didn’t consider him when choosing an heir, but instead chose you, a stranger with no relation to the Zhou family. After the young master died, this place began to decay. The old servants all left, with only me and Xiao Xiao remaining. And with your sudden departure, I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to find your way home. We stayed here, waiting, so when you came back you could see us, and feel at peace."
"This house is about to be sold because the second young master intervened. We’ll be leaving soon, but thankfully, you came back before that happened."
Uncle Qi had accompanied Zhou Yanxu for a lifetime, from the day he was born, staying by his side as he grew up.
His feelings for Zhou Yanxu were akin to those of a father.
And this was the place where Zhou Yanxu had lived the longest.
Jiang Nanshu looked up, seeing the most prominent photograph on the shelf.
It was her and Zhou Yanxu’s portrait, her facial features still immature at the time, her arm around Zhou Yanxu’s, smiling like a little sun.
She reached out and took it down.
She had kept the photograph in good condition, touching it with a hint of nostalgia.
Looking up at Uncle Qi, she smiled, "Don’t worry, this house is still ours, and no one can take it from us."
After saying goodbye to Uncle Qi,
Jiang Nanshu returned to her own room.
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