Siheyuan: tomb robbing? I am serious about hunting.

Chapter 1059: In the Hall

Back then, the sun was always warm, the wind carried the scent of flowers, and Fu Shiyan's smile wasn't as cold as it is now. But those beautiful times, like the fallen ginkgo leaves, have long since been ground into dust by the passage of time. "What exactly do you want to do by asking me to come here?" Shen Zhiyi took a deep breath, trying to make her voice sound calmer. She knew Fu Shiyan wasn't the kind of person who would waste time; he must have had a purpose for asking her to come here. Fu Shiyan didn't answer immediately. He turned and walked to the ginkgo tree, reaching out his hand and gently stroking the rough trunk. His fingers were long, with distinct joints, and they shone faintly in the sunlight. "This tree is thirty years old," he suddenly said, a subtle hint of emotion in his tone. Shen Zhiyi remained silent, listening quietly. "Your mother planted it herself," Fu Shiyan continued. "She said that when the tree grew as tall as the house, she would let you marry me." Shen Zhiyi's heart suddenly ached, as if it had been stabbed by something. Mother... the word hadn't been mentioned for a long time. Her mother died of illness when she was sixteen, a dark period in her life. It was Fu Shiyan who had always been there for her, comforting her and telling her not to be afraid. But now, the man who once said he would protect her was scarred by her. "Fu Shiyan," Shen Zhiyi's voice was thick with nasal twang, "Let's... let it go." Fu Shiyan spun around abruptly, his eyes filled with shock and anger. "Let it go?" he repeated, as if he had just heard some horrible joke. "Shen Zhiyi, tell me, how do we let it go?" "I'll give you back your bone marrow, okay?" Shen Zhiyi's tears finally fell, trickling down her cheeks and onto the ground, leaving a small, dark stain. "I don't want it anymore. I'll give it back to you, and you give me back your healthy self, okay?" Her words, laced with childlike innocence, felt like an invisible hand gripping Fu Shiyan's heart, a pain so severe it almost stifled his breath. He looked at the tearful girl before him. She had lost weight three years earlier, her face pale, her eyes filled with exhaustion and despair. She hasn't had a good life in the past three years, and Fu Shiyan knows this better than anyone else. He sent people to secretly monitor her movements. He knew that she dropped out of school to work in order to pay for her mother's high medical expenses; he knew how much grievance she suffered in the mental hospital; he knew that after learning the truth, she punished herself by self-harm. Every time he heard news about her, his heart ached as if it were being tortured. But he couldn't go find her, and couldn't let her know the truth. The doctor said that her mental state was very unstable and she couldn't be stimulated anymore. He could only use this way to protect her from afar. "Zhiyi," Fu Shiyan's voice slowed down a bit, with a hint of imperceptible tenderness, "Once the bone marrow is donated, it can't be taken back. Just like time, once it's gone, it can never come back." Shen Zhiyi cried even harder. She squatted on the ground, her shoulders twitching, like a wronged child. "What should I do then..." she choked. "I have nightmares every day. I dream of you lying on the operating table, covered in blood... Fu Shiyan, I can't hold on any longer." Fu Shiyan watched her in agony, his heart a bitter and astringent sensation. He walked over, crouched before her, and after a long hesitation, finally reached out and gently patted her back. His movements were gentle, a touch of cautious, tentative effort. Shen Zhiyi's body stiffened. She didn't resist, nor did she respond, simply continuing to cry. "Don't be afraid," Fu Shiyan's voice was low and gentle, as if coaxing a fragile treasure. "I'm here." He had said these words three years ago, before she was wheeled into the operating room. Now, he said them again. Shen Zhiyi's sobs gradually subsided. She looked up at Fu Shiyan with tearful eyes. Sunlight filtered through the leaves onto his face, casting a golden glow around him, making him appear less cold than usual. "Really?" she whispered, a hint of uncertain anticipation. Fu Shiyan looked at her wet eyes, which seemed to contain a pool of clear spring water, reflecting his shadow. He nodded solemnly: "Really." A gust of wind blew, and the ginkgo leaves rustled, as if bearing witness for them. Shen Zhiyi looked at Fu Shiyan's determined eyes, and the string in her heart that had been tense for three years finally slowly loosened. Maybe things were not as bad as she thought. Maybe they could really go on together as Fu Shiyan said. However, she forgot that some wounds, once torn, can never be healed. Some shackles, once put on, can never be broken free. The rusty lock between her and Fu Shiyan had long been rusted into the bone marrow, and no matter what method was used, it could not be easily opened. Fu Shiyan helped Shen Zhiyi stand up, took out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. "Wipe your tears." He said. Shen Zhiyi took the handkerchief, which still had the smell of cedar on it. She lowered her head, silently wiping the tears from her face, not daring to look into his eyes. "Come in," Fu Shiyan said, "It's windy outside." Shen Zhiyi nodded, followed him, and walked into the familiar yet unfamiliar house. The furnishings in the house are almost exactly the same as they were three years ago, but it is covered with a thick layer of dust and looks a little shabby. There is a painting hanging on the wall of the living room. It was painted when she was a child. It depicts this ginkgo tree, and she and Fu Shiyan under the tree. Time seemed to stand still at this moment, and it seemed to be flowing backwards, taking them back to those carefree teenage years. But Shen Zhiyi knew that everything could not go back. They are no longer the two children playing under the ginkgo tree. They are both carrying too much on their shoulders. Fu Shiyan walked to the sofa in the middle of the living room and picked up a photo frame on the table. In the photo frame is a photo of him and Shen Zhiyi. They were still young at that time, smiling brightly. His fingers gently brushed the dust on the photo frame, his eyes complicated. "Zhiyi," he suddenly said, "I know you hate me." Shen Zhiyi suddenly raised his head and looked at him. "I hate that I didn't tell you the truth, I hate that I took the initiative to donate my bone marrow to you, and I hate that I made you live in guilt." Fu Shiyan's voice was very calm, as if he was talking about someone else's affairs. "It's in our yard, a full flower bed. When it bloomed last year, I took pictures. I originally wanted to..." A rare treasure, his movements were gentle as if he was protecting a