The girl seemed forever cheerful.
Stepping outside, she gave the impression of bouncing along.
Liu Nanfeng watched her receding back, then called out softly, "Yang Ruoyun."
The girl froze, then turned, looking back at Liu Nanfeng.
With surprise on her face, she said, "Brother Arun?"
Liu Nanfeng shook his head. "I am Liu Nanfeng."
Yang Ruoyun's face fell with disappointment, and she said with a hint of sadness, "Oh, right, you are Liu Nanfeng, not Feng Zhirun."
After speaking, she turned and left. This time, her steps were not as buoyant, and her back seemed slightly hunched. Liu Nanfeng even noticed tears blown away by the wind.
Liu Nanfeng opened his mouth, but no words came.
In the end, he turned back and returned to the coffee shop.
The reason he had called out to Yang Ruoyun was to thank her. His current fortune was all thanks to the serendipity of a painting. He hadn't expected Yang Ruoyun to become so distressed and leave.
Yang Ruoyun wiped away tears as she walked, feeling an inexpressible sadness and bitterness.
She was the daughter of Yang Siqing, a wealthy merchant in Kaifeng. Born into privilege, she was doted upon as his only daughter.
Her encounter with Feng Zhirun was truly a fated meeting that led to a lifetime of devotion.
Fortunately, Yang Ruoyun was not yet very old at the time, and with the indulgence of her father and brothers, her family lacked no wealth. Thus, she followed Feng Zhirun's footsteps.
She even accompanied him for a considerable period.
That was the happiest time of Yang Ruoyun's life. But then, her family suffered a sudden catastrophe. When she rushed home, she found the bodies of her father and brothers awaiting her.
The authorities claimed her family had gathered to rebel, selling out the country and colluding with enemies, which was why the entire family was wiped out. In reality, they were simply coveting her family's wealth.
Yang Ruoyun, upon returning, narrowly escaped imprisonment. Thanks to the mediation of a few old servants, she managed to flee. When she tried to find Feng Zhirun again, she heard news of his marriage.
Her heart turned to ash, and she spent the darkest months of her life in a dazed state in a temple. The next news she heard of Feng Zhirun was that his Feng and Su clans had been massacred. Feng Zhirun, who had narrowly escaped, became a monk.
For some reason, despite this terrible news, she felt a secret joy at the time.
However, she never went to see Feng Zhirun again. She only watched from afar as Feng Zhirun became a monk at Linggu Temple.
She opened a incense and candle shop near Linggu Temple. She was content to see him from a distance, never disturbing him.
But he eventually saw her. He didn't approach to acknowledge her, merely nodded with a smile as they passed each other.
From then on, the eldest daughter of the wealthy Yang family in Kaifeng lived a simple life, tending to her incense and candle shop.
Yet, Feng Zhirun remained as outstanding as ever. Within a few years of becoming a monk, he earned the title of Baolin Divine Monk.
Even in his monk's robes, his inherent elegance and charm could not be concealed.
Yang Ruoyun felt that seeing him even once a day was the greatest happiness. No, not even daily.
He knew she was outside the temple, and she knew he was inside. For Yang Ruoyun, this was the happiest of circumstances.
But then one day, Feng Zhirun renounced his monastic vows.
She didn't know what had happened. She simply closed her incense and candle shop, found a place where no one knew her, and quietly ended her life.
When they met again, she was already old and faded, but he was still as graceful and distinguished as ever. Time had barely left a mark on him, though he had become more mature and engaging.
He spoke to her of many things he had never told her before, and taught her much knowledge she had never known.
Finally, he said he was going to die.
She cried, deeply saddened.
He didn't look like someone who was about to die. It was she herself who was old and nearing her end, soon to pass away.
To die with him would have been a joyous occasion, but she couldn't feel any joy. She didn't want him to die.
"If you are so powerful, why are you going to die?" Yang Ruoyun asked, tears streaming down her face.
"Because I encountered someone more powerful than me," Feng Zhirun replied with a smile.
Then he died in her arms.
According to his last wishes, she buried him beneath a peach tree.
The moment she buried him, her sadness lifted.
For no matter how many women he had been with in his life, in the end, only she was by his side, and he died in her arms.
But if she died, she would never see him again.
Therefore, she wanted to live.
She wanted to extend her life.
But she was ultimately kind and could not bear to harm others. So, she borrowed life from animals.
Borrowing life was agonizing, especially the first time. It felt like being flayed and having her tendons pulled, a pain that penetrated her very soul and almost scattered her spirit.
Yet, she persisted. Later, she seemed to have grown accustomed to it.
She guarded the few things he had left her, quietly waiting for his return.
Seas changed and mulberry fields transformed. No matter how the world changed, she recognized him the moment she saw him.
But she, too, had reached her twilight years and was nearing the end of her life.
It didn't matter; she could continue to borrow life.
But—
Large teardrops rolled down her cheeks, completely disregarding the attention of passersby.
She didn't know why she was sad. Hadn't she already known this outcome?
But she just couldn't help but feel sad.
Why? Was it that call of "Yang Ruoyun"?
Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't.
But she wished that it was Feng Zhirun who had called out her name, not Liu Nanfeng.
"You're crying," a woman's voice said softly beside her at that moment, as she handed over a tissue.
"Thank you," Yang Ruoyun took it and wiped the tears from her eyes.
"Hello, I'm Hu Mengyao. You can call me Nineteenth Sister," the newcomer said with a smile as radiant as sunshine.
Looking at the woman in a delivery uniform, who seemed like a captivating fox spirit, Yang Ruoyun was momentarily stunned before replying, "Hello, I'm Yang Ruoyun."
"Ha, now we know each other. Don't be sad anymore. Want me to take you for a ride?" Hu Mengyao honked her electric scooter twice, producing a "beep beep" sound.
Yang Ruoyun intended to refuse. Who would invite someone for a ride on an electric scooter? But seeing Hu Mengyao's sincere eyes and radiant smile, she found herself nodding involuntarily.
"Get on," Hu Mengyao took off her helmet and placed it on Yang Ruoyun's head.
The delivery helmet had a cute windmill on top.
Yang Ruoyun sat behind, holding onto the backrest, but Hu Mengyao took her hand and wrapped it around her waist.
"This way is more comfortable," Hu Mengyao said.
Then, she twisted the handlebars, and the electric scooter sped off. Hu Mengyao's hair, blown by the wind, brushed against her face, causing her to squint.
She took off the helmet and put it back on Hu Mengyao's head.
Then, she wrapped her arms around Hu Mengyao's waist and leaned against her back.
"Thank you…"