Chapter 58.3: A Talk on the Balcony

Sun Qing raised her head again and looked across the classroom.

The class had quieted down with her arrival, but students still kept to their routines—some working on homework, others munching snacks, and a few chatting while surreptitiously glancing at the homeroom teacher’s expression.

Sun Qing couldn’t help but reflect: perhaps these kids didn’t yet realize that this sunlit blackboard wall would one day become a cherished memory deep within them.

Its hue was just like...

She unfolded a test paper, inside which was a yellowed ginkgo leaf she had picked up on a whim while passing by the flowerbeds earlier.

…

“So, Liangliang-ge, you’ve been in Nantong all this time?”

“Mm.”

“By the river?”

“I got a room at a small motel near the river. I take walks by the river at night and sleep during the day.”

Tan Wenbin tilted his head with curiosity and chimed in on the conversation between Li Zhuiyuan and Xue Liangliang. “Looks like college life is really as our teachers say—once you get in, life gets easy.”

Xue Liangliang replied, “Actually, aside from a lucky few who coast or excel, most students in the middle tier still have a lot on their plate. It’s not that easy.”

Li Zhuiyuan asked, “So you’ve been by the river for days and haven’t seen her at all?”

Xue Liangliang continued speaking to Tan Wenbin, “That’s why it’s crucial to plan early. Best to lock in your career path ahead of time.”

Li Zhuiyuan: “Or do you see her every day?”

Xue Liangliang: “I heard you’re applying to Haihe University too. Good luck—if you get in, you can help manage some of the shops and studios at my school.”

Li Zhuiyuan: “Sounds like you really want into Local Chronicles.”

“Enough, Little Yuan! I’m doing this for the peace of your hometown. It hasn’t been easy for me.”

Li Zhuiyuan didn’t pursue the question. He turned to the television, which was broadcasting Nantong news.

Now it was Xue Liangliang who got antsy. He grabbed Li Zhuiyuan’s shoulder and gave it a shake. “Say ‘mm’ at least, won’t you?”

The truth was, if Liangliang-ge had been any later that night, Uncle Qin might’ve torn through all of Baijia Town.

Then again, this arrangement was quite convenient. With his status as the Bai Family’s son-in-law, Xue Liangliang could talk to high-level circles when it came to water projects across the country.

If a real problem cropped up, he could always show up as the son-in-law.

Binbin-ge had lost his edge with the big players, but luckily, there was still Liangliang-ge to lean on.

Li Zhuiyuan genuinely felt that while his great-grandfather might not have been a professional in corpse retrieval, he had a knack for pointing him in the right direction.

“Eh?”

Runsheng let out a puzzled sound, glanced at the TV, then at Xue Liangliang.

The screen showed footage of a rescue—a woman trying to jump into the river, only to be saved by a brave young man.

After the rescue, a reporter approached for his name and workplace. The young man declined to reveal anything and simply walked off, leaving only a noble silhouette for the camera.

Xue Liangliang frowned. “Nantong TV really has nothing better to air? She never meant to kill herself.”

Tan Wenbin asked, “How do you know?”

“She was just standing by the river, the water barely past her ankles. I asked her—she said she didn’t have the guts, not for someone like that. It wasn’t worth it.”

“And then?”

“So I went into the water.”

“Huh?”

“She got spooked, slipped, and nearly got swept away. I had no choice but to carry her back to shore.”

“Then why’d she say you saved her…”

“She probably didn’t have the heart to tell the truth.”

Runsheng: “Aren’t you worried your wife will misunderstand?”

Xue Liangliang: “…”

Li Zhuiyuan hadn’t brought up the incident—Xue Liangliang had launched into it himself after arriving.

Then Tan Wenbin voiced his own request: he wanted to go to Shancheng with them.

Worried Li Zhuiyuan might take it the wrong way, he even pointed to the suitcase he’d brought from home, explaining he’d packed his books and exercises, so it wouldn’t interfere with studying.

Xue Liangliang readily agreed. One more or one less didn’t make a difference.

So Runsheng and Tan Wenbin would be joining them on the trip to Shancheng.

“Little Yuan, come here a moment.”

“Yes, Granny Liu.”

Li Zhuiyuan walked over to Liu Yumei.

She was sipping tea. Inside the house, Ah Li was taking a bath.

“You’re headed to Shancheng, yes? When?”

“In a couple of days.”

“How long will you stay?”

“Not long. I’ll be back soon.”

“No rush. Enjoy yourself.” Liu Yumei pulled out a slip of paper with a phone number on it. “Call this number when you get to Shancheng.”

“Granny, this is…”

“Just a coincidence. An old friend passed away. I’m taking Ah Li to visit Shancheng too. Quite a few friends have passed in recent years.”

“Are you coming with us?”

“Not a chance.” Liu Yumei shook her head. “You’re taking the train, right?”

“Yes.”

“My old bones can’t handle that kind of hardship. And crowds aren’t good for Ah Li either. You all go ahead—just call once you arrive, and we’ll meet up.”

“Okay, Granny.”

After Li Zhuiyuan left, Liu Yumei went inside.

In the bathtub, Ah Li sat quietly as Liu Yumei smiled kindly.

“Come now, let Granny see which of the old geezers in Shancheng has recently kicked the bucket.”

She opened a drawer and took out a thick stack of envelopes—obituaries.

She gathered the ones from Shancheng and selected one dated just over a month ago.

Tapping the envelope with a finger, Liu Yumei smiled.

“Alright, I’ll give you this favor.”

Even if it had been over a month, the mourning could still be observed. Customs were shaped by people’s lives and work.

For old hands in the field, a single journey could take months. Who had time to rush back and catch a final glimpse? Even attending a memorial seven weeks later was tough.

Traditionally, when someone died, their condolence candles burned for a year. You never knew who might show up to pay respects.

In the past, Liu Yumei would have just tossed those obituaries aside. If not for staying behind to treat Ah Li, she wouldn’t have bothered.

Receiving the obituary was already a sign of respect. Replying with a telegram or message was considered a kindness—her status alone spoke volumes.

Ah Li finished bathing.

“Come, let Granny dress you up all nice.”

After grooming her, Liu Yumei opened the door. Ah Li stepped out, and Li Zhuiyuan got up, left his friends, and took her upstairs to draw.

Aunt Liu entered the east room with a box. Inside were new clothes for Ah Li.

Even in hard times, skilled craftsmen never starved. No matter how young people chased trends—dyed hair, Western styles, long bangs—the old tailor shops still thrived. Their craft was too valuable for most to afford.

“It was easier back then. Seasonal clothes for the whole household were made in our own shop. Those familiar needles knew just what I meant with a few words. Now I have to sketch out every design myself.”

Aunt Liu chuckled. “Isn’t that your passion though?”

“Heh.”

“Besides, if you wanted to keep the shop going, it’s not like you couldn’t afford it.”

Liu Yumei glanced at the rows of memorial tablets on the shrine and sighed.

“It’s not about money. There just aren’t that many left to wear them.”

“I spoke out of turn.”

“It’s fine. Sort the clothes, check the threads, see if anything needs adjusting.”

“This one… doesn’t look like it’s for Ah Li?”

Aunt Liu pulled out an outfit with embroidered flying fish, dark but stately in tone.

“It’s for Little Yuan.”

“He’s really lucky—to have you custom-make his clothes. You clearly put a lot of work into the redesign.”

“He’s my designated future named disciple of the Liu family. Giving him a set of clothes is nothing.”

“You’re all talk, but your heart says otherwise.”

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