Heavenly Era, year 61.

She gradually lost her vitality and began to sleep for days on end.

Sometimes, even when he called her several times, there was no response. Only by checking her pulse did he know she was still there.

In the slanting sunlight, he gazed at the mountain full of peach blossoms, often sitting for a whole day. Since she was always asleep, his perception of time began to speed up infinitely, and he gradually lost the ability to perceive many things. Only when Xiao Kai returned could he realize how long had passed.

Xiao Kai rushed over, dusty and travel-worn. Now, he was a handsome young man in his twenties, a renowned merchant: "Father. Hasn't she been sleeping too long recently? I saw Grandma Jiang in the city in the same state; she used to sit outside the fabric store, but now she can only lie in bed..."

"Xiao Kai," Su Ming'an said blandly, "no need to call me father; I just sponsored you."

Xiao Kai stared at Su Ming'an. It wasn't until Su Ming'an opened his eyes that Xiao Kai suddenly withdrew his gaze: "Well... there's a war going on lately, you should try not to go out."

"You don't have to run back and forth either. Just live your own life, don't worry about us anymore," Su Ming'an said.

"How can I do that! You raised me, how can I forget my roots..."

"Just live well." Su Ming'an said lightly.

Xiao Kai pressed his lips, his eyes turned dark for a moment, but he said, "...How about I take you away? I've acquired a piece of land near the inland, it's safer there."

Su Ming'an considered this, the reasoning in Xiao Kai's words was valid: "Okay."

Joy erupted on Xiao Kai's face, and he turned around and ran into the car: "Then I'll prepare immediately, in a few days, I'll drive over to pick you up!"

Then a cough came from inside, and Su Ming'an entered. The white-haired person leaned against the headboard, wrinkles filled with serene time.

Her hands gently rested on the bedding: "Before, Xiao Kai gave you the peach blossom cake he made himself, he has always admired you. By driving him away now, you're going to make him sad."

Su Ming'an sat by the window, suddenly saying: "The way you reminisce about the past really resembles my grandma."

She smiled faintly: "You once said, this doesn't count as old, it's just an experience of us longevity species... Su Rin is also in his eighties, does he seem like an old man?"

Su Ming'an pondered for a moment, then slowly said:

"Yes."

Yuanyuan didn't laugh, she just looked outside the window with a faraway gaze.

"Ming'an," she suddenly said.

Su Ming'an also didn't laugh, he reached over and sat beside her.

"In the eyes of the world, this scene of slowly growing old... only couples can achieve it, right? Even in Xiao Kai's eyes, he probably views us as husband and wife," Yuanyuan said.

"Or maybe mother and son," Su Ming'an joked.

"But I know..." Yuanyuan didn't respond, she touched the yellowed comic book at the head of the bed, its pages had curled: "Your feelings toward us... cannot be simply encapsulated by any words. If it were Lv Shu, or Noel... if they grew old here, you would still accompany them the same way."

"You've started to love speaking grand truths," Su Ming'an murmured: "Is this influenced by your bodily state?"

"Next time when I come to see you, I will appear young again."

"...Alright."

...

After a few more days, she lost her hearing.

Using Ninth World's mechanical technology, Su Ming'an made her a hearing aid. But her voice always fluctuated in volume, unable to control her speech properly.

"The next time I come looking for you, it might be in a whole new era. This era is the Age of Sailing, what will the next era be?" Yuanyuan whispered, her white hair brushing against his arm.

"It seems to be an era with an Eastern style."

"I'd like to be a heroine, in this life I've been blowing cold wind on the sea every day. In the next life, I want to be a bit more stable, enjoy the prosperity of the Capital City. I want to learn weaving, as I've never touched a sewing machine..."

"Whatever you wish."

"If it succeeds... if this kind of vacationing is feasible... it certainly will..."

Her voice grew softer, and she drifted off to sleep with her eyelids drooping.

Su Ming'an wheeled her back into the house, glancing at the distant cannon fire; they hadn't left this Peach Blossom Forest in a long time because her days... were probably numbered.

...

A few days more passed, and her eyesight diminished completely.

Whenever Su Ming'an moved even slightly further away, she would frantically call his name, asking where he had gone, like a child afraid of losing a toy.

Her world plunged into darkness, the stillness ringing in her ears; if he weren't there, she truly couldn't feel anything.

"Where are you? Ming'an, where are you?" she called out a few times, her face marked by unprecedented panic, her hands flailing around.

"...I'm here." Su Ming'an immediately walked over.

"Sing me a song, otherwise, I might fall asleep again." Her hand clawed the air a few times, seemingly searching for which direction Su Ming'an was in, until he grasped her frantic hand.

She had started to fear sleep; with her shallow breathing, it felt as though once she fell asleep, she might never wake up again.

"...Alright." Su Ming'an took a moment, looked into her clouded eyes, then softly began:

"The storybook under the pillow,

the happiness secretly kept,

what were my youthful feelings trying to convey..."

She listened in a daze, tears falling from her eyes.

To her... this must have been a song from a hundred years ago.

...

Another few days went by, and she became very lazy, even avoiding games, sitting motionless in the wheelchair, letting peach blossoms cover her shoulders.

"What do you want to eat?" Su Ming'an picked up a pot of tea; it was something Yuanyuan used to love doing, but now it was his turn.

"I don't want to eat anything... nothing..." her voice trailed off.

He seemed to say something else, but she truly couldn't hear anymore.

The body was no longer agile, walking a few steps would be exhausting.

Thoughts would also begin to stagnate, even forgetting the people around.

These were once words he used to describe the elderly, but now they all applied to her.

He recalled what she said decades ago.

—If one day you truly leave me, and in the endless world you no longer find me... then please remember, the one named Yuanyuan, she has found happiness.

She had already received... a pre-doomsday illusion.

Even if there's no next body. If there isn't, this would be the last life.

But she was very happy.

...

She was now white-haired and wrinkled, she had a happy life.

...

A few more days passed, and Su Ming'an felt that his body was also failing.

"I will make a trip to the Holy City to get a new body. Wait for me to come back, and we will go to the Nine Serenities." Su Ming'an wheeled her under the peach blossom tree, gesturing for her to rest here.

She closed her eyes, yet stretched out her hand towards him.

Even though she couldn't see anything, the smile on her face was like that of a young girl. It was a liveliness that no wrinkle could erase, belonging to her soul.

"Could you... hold my hand?" she asked for some reason.

He paused for a moment, then slowly took her hand. The hands that once grasped Kaiyne's Snow were now gnarled, with veins showing prominently. He wanted to speak, but grief sealed his throat.

She slowly stood up, like a skeleton about to fall apart. Then, her steps neither light nor fast, she circled around him, twisting his wrist.

Simple preliminary dance steps, yet he instantly understood.

"Starlight disperses the most mysterious mist,

tiptoe and spin in a dance step,

faintly hearing someone crying..."

As if a gentleman responding to a lady from years ago, he also twisted his wrist, moving slowly with her. Every dance step seemed to be a glance back at a hundred years, a sigh for the passing of time.

The dance steps from decades ago, her still youthful self.

The her under the lights of Henggang City, nibbling on monkey head mushroom biscuits, the her who liked chocolate sticks, the her wearing a cat-ear hat.

The moonlight on the black awning boat, the sound of the river, the music of clapping wooden boards.

The dappled shadows of shaking branches, the ripples and the long wind.

Her love, the years she cherished.

In his eyes, the frozen fragments of her long time.

From somewhere came the sound of a jade flute, perhaps the cowherd from the village, the sound wafting through the sea of peach blossoms, seemingly echoing this moment's tranquility.

She danced slow steps, speaking of her past.

... That was her past in Mingxi. She talked about the canteen meals, tastier than in high school. The dorm room in the school, the starry sky on the rooftop was beautiful. For twelve years, she often sat there watching the stars, fantasizing which one might be Zhai Xing.

... She also talked about her time at Ming Hui, Qin Wang wanted her to be his fiancée but said it was a temporary arrangement, no need to truly marry. At that time, she did not understand why Qin Wang said that, but later she understood, he already knew he wouldn't live to adulthood.

... Finally, she talked about Zhai Xing's blue sky, white seagulls, plains, and long wind.

He could understand what she said and saw the expression she showed. It was unconscious... happy... a free smile.

He also slowly began speaking about his past. After his father passed away, he met a very kind old man, who saved money to buy him a birthday cake and accompanied him through some years.

He spoke of the school gate where no one would ever pick him up, a pair of Nike shoes he could never afford, the vegetarian fried pancake he didn't dare to add eggs or sausage to, the four kilometers he walked to school to save money... those memories he could no longer touch.

He talked about that graduation ball, which was not the life she stole, there was no need for that beautiful dance dress when the spotlight was already hers.

Why couldn't the moonlight in the alley be a spotlight? Why couldn't the black cat by the garbage can be an elegant audience?

She listened, a happy smile on her face, yet tears fell.

"... Why are you crying?"

He wiped the tears from her face. He wiped away some, but the tears just flowed more and more. His actions seemed to exacerbate her silent sorrow.

Why cry?

We will meet again, won't we?

You said it yourself, we will meet again.

She leaned forward, lightly resting her forehead against his, a gesture people make when they vow something. She didn't say anything, just repeated a few words:

"Reincarnation, Old God, life and death, life after life."

"Reincarnation, Old God, life and death, life after life..."

It was as if a prayer, not quite certain.

Time knocking gently at the heart's door, life will eventually retreat into seclusion.

Warm sentiments and fallen flowers settled together in the afternoon sun, as the elderly white-haired person gazed upon them, as if they had already drifted away with the spring light, to distant fields, streams, Cang Mountain... each petal of peach blossom seemed to carry fragments of her long life.

Her gaze pierced through the mottled window lattice, watching the peach blossoms in the wind of the backyard, as if immersed in spring light of the past. The spring breeze caressed gently, petals of peach blossoms fell like dreams, drifting downward between azure sky and earthly realm.

As if able to hear the flow of time, the symphony of life. The still youthful black-haired youth gazed back at her, his fingers gliding through her white hair.

Dance with me while the fairy tale hasn't ended...

Let everything... be restored after dawn.

As the dance ended, she fell into a deep sleep again.

Under the peach blossom tree, the expression of the white-haired person was extremely peaceful. Su Ming'an looked back once, heading towards the Holy City.

...

Geese flew high, Jiang Yin watched the setting sun out the window.

Growing old, one can truly feel their lifespan. She could feel her limit... within these two days.

Lying in bed, with back pain, breath so weak, she recalled that day countless times—the young man with an indifferent demeanor on the eaves, gazing at the clear sky. When she looked up, their eyes met... that one look became eternal.

A sound like a broken bellows came from her chest, she closed her eyes, but felt it was not right, she couldn't just lie in bed waiting to die, she wanted to sit at the fabric store's entrance... she still had to wait for him.

She had waited for thousands of days and nights, yet he never came. But perhaps tonight... he would come.

She struggled to her feet, the illness made her face scrunched in pain, took her cane, stumbled her way outside, holding that portrait, sat on the chair that had been there for decades. On the dimly lit street there were few passersby, no boats on the river in front, only her alone, listening to the increasingly faint sounds of people, until the night gradually fell.

She fished out some sheets of blank paper, placed them on her lap, hands trembling as she held a brush, dipped it in ink, and stroke by stroke, drew the image of the youth from the portrait. Over the years, whenever idle, she would pick up a brush to draw him, and with day after day of practice, she had come to draw an almost identical likeness.

But when it came to drawing the eyes, she always hesitated.

She had heard a story, if the person in the portrait had eyes, they would come to life and appear before the one who missed them. She dared not lay down the brush, fearing that if she did, the person would not appear, and the only thing that supported her would disappear.

"The last time... the last time... Jiang Yin." Her hands trembled for a long time, then thought of something, turned around, and put the remaining coins from her drawer into an envelope. If someone found her tomorrow, they would find the money inside. The names on the envelope were of the children she had sponsored over the decades. She thought, if she were no longer around, the last bit of money should be sent to them.

All her life, she didn't manage to expand her fabric store, did what many people regarded as "ridiculous" in her later years... but she had no regrets.

Ink fell on the youth's eyes in the painting, she bit her lip, and a blurry face suddenly appeared before her eyes.

Those scenes blended with the slowly descending night, indistinguishable if they were lantern visions or illusions.

[Hey, up there! Clear it up!] The girl stood with her hands on her hips.

As the daylight gradually faded, the youth draped in golden veils bowed his head.

The girl, unsure of what she imagined, blushed and avoided his beautiful eyes.

...

[Are you a wooden figure?] The girl leaned in closer, only seeing ordinary scenery: [What's so special about this? You must not have seen any good scenery. I'll take you to see it, okay?]

[I've seen it all.] The youth's words were calm, quietly rejecting her invitation.

He would always refuse her.

...

[Is this the... tea taught by your family?] When the pot lid was lifted, an indescribable scent wafted out, causing everyone around to take a step back, covering their noses. Only the girl stepped forward.

[Mm.] The youth's expression was faint, as if it were only natural.

The girl picked up the cup, everyone advised her not to drink it. Yet she stubbornly downed it in one go, let out a loud burp, drawing the young man's attention.

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