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　　一年挨著一年過去，每一年較之前一年其實並無不同，沈清軒是這麼覺得的，問伊墨，伊墨也是這樣覺得的。他們仍舊和以前一樣，偶爾分開，或一兩天，或三五天，或一兩月，卻也沒有分開得更久過。小別過後，伊墨都會回到龐大沈宅的南邊小院裡。在夜晚時，將那個解了發冠滿臉柔情問他嫁不嫁的男人抱進懷中。
　　日子是緩慢過的，仿佛平靜水面，光陰在下面不動聲色地流淌。只有偶然間一個眼角的轉側，沈清軒才發覺時光荏苒，原先在他們身邊那個吵吵鬧鬧的孩童，忽然長大。
　　小寶站在他身邊，已經可以與他比肩。
　　
　　處理完族中事務，沈清軒袖著暖筒回到自己的院子，小寶在屋中讀書，聲音朗朗，即使在院外都可聽見。沈清軒關了門，將暖筒和斗篷解下交給丫頭，過去摸了摸小寶的頭，低聲問：“你父親呢？”
　　“抱著手爐看書，不過我想他應該睡著了。”小寶也放低音量，說著話抬起頭來，眉目俊朗，已經可以預見成年後的挺拔風姿，看了眼爹爹，小寶又道：“我懷疑他變成蛇了。”
　　沈清軒笑了一聲，“他睡著了還這麼大聲。”
　　“我一停他就醒了。”小寶吐了吐舌，果然屏風後面傳來被子捲動的聲響，隨後是伊墨的聲音響起，“話多。”伊墨說，聲音帶著睡意的迷糊。
　　沈清軒走過去掀起床幃，只見被子鋪開，平平整整，只有中央處有些突起，果然是現了原形睡大覺。伸手將被子裡的大蛇抱起來，沈清軒道：“別睡了，你又不用冬眠。”又提高音量，對著屏風外道：“小寶也別念書了，今天元宵節。晚上去逛夜集。”
　　伊墨恢復了人形，依然半倚在他身前，懶洋洋地應了一聲。小寶合上書本，笑容燦爛。沈清軒也笑著，手指在伊墨髮絲間穿梭，屋子裡炭火旺盛，寧謐的不似人間。
　　
　　正元宵節，街上掛滿紅色燈籠，氣氛一片祥和喜悅。小寶在攤販所擺的貨物中穿梭，玩心尤在，卻比幼時沉穩不少，不再亂跑亂跳。一路都是燈紅映綠，沈清軒站在花燈架前看那上面掛著的燈謎，燈謎只需猜出就可取走，架前圍了不少人。只是見到他倆來，便散去了一些。這些年已經習慣了這樣的待遇，沈清軒並不以為意，反而站在伊墨身前戳了戳他的胸膛，低聲道：“毒蛇。”又指了指前方看皮影戲的小寶，道：“猛獸。”最後反手指了指自己：“與毒蛇猛獸為伍的怪物。”伊墨瞅著他片刻，抬手在他額上彈了一記。這個動作他已經練得行雲流水，不過大多是用在小寶身上。沈清軒被彈了額頭，反而大笑起來，笑聲狂蕩不羈。
　　
　　街面上各式吆喝聲不絕於耳，其中數元宵的吆喝聲最多，伴隨著糯米煮開的香氣，白霧嫋嫋。沈清軒停了腳步，拉了伊墨坐了下來，又喊來小寶，三人坐在桌前，等著元宵。
　　伊墨不愛吃甜食，每年也就這個時候，陪他們一起吃一碗桂花芝麻餡的元宵。
　　攤主是個中年人，臉上有著年月的滄桑，見沈清軒來了，煮元宵時就多放了幾個，三個人碗裡的元宵，比別人多出幾個。坐在另一桌的客人見了，心中不服，拍了桌子問事。攤主憨憨一笑，道：“沈少爺一家照顧我生意十二年了呢。”
　　沈清軒訝異地看了眼伊墨，“已經十二年了嗎？”
　　伊墨喝著甜湯，理也不理他，事實上已經十三年了。他陪著這個人，吃了十三年元宵，守了十三年除夕，過了十三個春秋寒暑。
　　並且，還未厭倦。
　　
　　吃完元宵，沈清軒掏了銅錢出來，照舊是紅繩穿著的十六個銅錢放在桌上，對著攤主道一句大吉大利，三人繼續往前逛著。
　　在皮影攤前看了片刻，又去泥陶攤前，沈清軒在那些圓墩墩胖乎乎的泥娃娃前面站了片刻，問小寶要哪個，小寶看了半天，伸手指了一個人偶娃娃，道：“這個。”那是個眯著眼打盹的泥娃娃，肥嘟嘟，胖乎乎，無精打采，眼睛眯成了一道縫。
　　沈清軒瞟了小寶一樣，不作聲地把那娃娃買下了。父子兩人攥著娃娃走到一邊，沈清軒問：“為什麼選這個？”
　　“像冬天的父親，瞌睡。”小寶偷偷笑，把那娃娃收進袖裡。
　　沈清軒回身望了眼正在攤前挑娃娃的伊墨，自己也笑了。
　　伊墨是攥著個小狐狸回來的，泥塑的小狐狸，刷了彩釉，通體雪白，蜷縮成一團，下巴和鼻子都藏在毛茸茸的尾巴裡，只露出一雙似笑非笑，似夢非夢的狹長眼睛。狡黠的可愛。
　　伊墨將那狐狸頂上了沈清軒的鼻子，“你。”
　　沈清軒說：“……我哪裡是這個樣子。”
　　“就是。”小寶作證。
　　沈清軒跑過去，又挑了半天，挑了一隻泥塑的小肥狗兒，正伸著脖子看著天空，不知在想些什麼。沈清軒把那狗頂到小寶鼻子前面，“你。”
　　小寶驚愕地張大嘴：“爹，這是狗！”
　　“我知道。”
　　“我不是狗！”我是狼！
　　“就是。”沈清軒摸了摸他的頭，笑眯眯地道：“就是。”
　　伊墨說：“不要爭了。在長輩面前，你就是這個。”伊墨指了指那只小肥狗。
　　小寶都要被氣哭了。
　　三人一行又往前逛，沈清軒突然喃喃著不解，說：“你們沒覺得那攤主的娃娃們，一年比一年胖了嗎？”
　　小寶還在狗與狼之間糾結，顧不上回答這個問題。伊墨看著前面舞龍的隊伍，也懶得回答這個問題。沈清軒想，啊，沒人理我了。
　　
　　突地眼角瞥到一個人影，沈清軒頓住身，而後邁步走過去。伊墨和小寶站在原地，他們也看到了那個人，正在趕往河邊，河邊是放花燈的地方，那是小寶的奶奶，沈夫人。所以沈清軒才會一言不發地趕過去。
　　小寶臉上沉了一下，低聲問：“奶奶有多少年沒見過爹了？”
　　伊墨沒有回答。轉頭看向前方，道：“去看雜耍吧。”
　　兩人慢步走向雜耍的天橋。
　　沈清軒在人流的大步走著，擠著喧鬧的人流，眼見著離那道身影越來越近，忽地覺得不對勁。在這一刹那，汗毛倒豎起來。一陣天旋地轉如約而來，隨同一起到來的還有徹骨的寒意，像是回到了童年冰窟裡，沈清軒努力睜大眼，卻只是一片黑暗。
　　
　　這是第十三個年頭。沈清軒想著，儘管他每過去一天都會這樣想一遍。
　　今天終是等到了這一天。他再也等不了伊墨了。
　　我沒有時間等你了。沈清軒咬著牙，硬撐著憑著腦海中對街道的記憶跌跌撞撞的扶到了牆壁，倚著牆壁弓下身，努力呼吸。在這一刹那，他瑟縮著身子，想起了在河邊放花燈的母親——還是不見了吧。
　　也不知過了多久，或許很短，或許很漫長。沈清軒聽見了小寶的聲音，在耳邊焦灼地呼喊自己：“爹爹，爹爹！”
　　沈清軒緩緩睜開眼，街市還是那個街市，燈籠琳琅，吆喝聲聲，在沸騰的嘈雜裡，他看見前方負袖而立的伊墨，一身黑袍，披散著烏黑長髮，遠遠地站在那裡，正靜靜地望著他，眼底一片死寂。
　　整個世界陷入死寂。
　　
　　沈清軒挽起唇角，露出一道微笑，借著小寶的攙扶站起身，一步步走過去，他的腳步沉重而拖遝，仿佛跨過了千山萬水，仿佛越過了三生河畔，仿佛踩踏著荊棘刀尖，仿佛每一個腳印都留下了血跡。走得異常痛苦而艱難。
　　他終是站到了伊墨面前，眼對著眼。
　　互相凝望著，卻發不出聲音。
　　他牽了伊墨的手，手紋烙著手紋，手指纏著手指，就這樣牽著，扯著，而後低聲道：“我們回家。”
　　
　　他的生命以一種急遽的速度消耗下去。
　　小寶日日站在門前，一言不發地聽著屋裡動靜。他的爹爹日夜不休的在處理事務，從帳目開始，清點族中商鋪，田地，佃戶，貨物……已經五天五夜沒有休息。仿佛要將餘生的事情，都在這段時間裡全部做完。
　　小寶已經不知道自己在這裡站了多久，他只站著，安安靜靜地站著，不論風雨。一如屋內他的父親，陪在那個人身邊，靜寂無聲地陪伴著。
　　他已經知道自己來歷，也已經知道，他將親手送這個沒有血緣卻至親至愛的人離開。
　　
　　一個月過後，沈清軒喚了他進屋。
　　屋中窗戶緊閉，朦朧的光線裡，小寶看見自己的爹爹。
　　瘦骨嶙峋，顴骨高高突起，下頜尖削，原本的一頭黑髮，夾雜了數不清的白絲。
　　小寶哽咽著，忍了又忍，終是泣不成聲。
　　“事情已經處理完了。”沈清軒卻仿佛不曾聽見他的哭泣，微笑著道：“我想回山上，你去不去？”
　　小寶點了點頭，走過去牽了他的手。
　　留下幾封信箋擺在案上，沈清軒打開了門。一道微風拂面而過，門口處的人影仿佛被吹散了般消弭無蹤，敞開的房門也緩緩掩上，“吱呀”一聲，掩了這一室曾有過的愛恨纏綿。
　　
　　山中別院已經空置多年，沈清軒坐在陽光中，偎在伊墨胸前。
　　“生老病死、愛別離、怨憎會、求不得。”沈清軒嗓音沙啞，虛弱無力，緩緩道：“我這一生，只有一苦。”
　　伊墨摟緊了他。
　　“生老病死本是常態，我所愛不曾離開，怨憎之人早已不放在心上，”沈清軒抬起手，手背青筋畢露，枯槁的手撫摸上他的臉，眼底仍是癡癡的戀慕，輕聲道：“只有求而不得。”
　　這一生，求而不得。
　　沈清軒撫著他的臉，“只因這份求而不得，所以我才逃過那六苦。伊墨……”他說得急了，喘了兩聲，伊墨輕輕拍著，在那骨瘦如柴的背部輕柔地拍著，仿佛撫慰嬰孩，小心翼翼的姿態。
　　“我喜歡你。”
　　沈清軒說，合上眼，露出笑來。這是他這一生，第一次說喜歡，也是唯一一次。
　　“伊墨，我喜歡你。”
　　眼簾完全合上，沈清軒輕聲說，說完仿佛睡去，手腕垂下，滑落在身側。
　　伊墨閉上眼，將他摟在懷中，用了極大的力氣，像是要把這孱弱枯死的身子揉進骨血裡一樣死鎖死在懷裡，嘴唇碰到那些雪白髮絲，輕輕吻著。
　　但是，再也沒有人會回應他了。
　　
　　沈清軒遺書，死後喪事從簡，不必等沈楨回來，葬於山中別院。另家中暗櫃裡一方木匣，取來一同下葬。
　　入殮那天，沈楨還是趕回來了，沈父年事已高，病臥在床，沈母不曾出面，鎖在佛堂裡。沈楨回來主持大局。許明世也聞得音訊，恰好在入殮當天趕來。沈楨遵照兄長遺命，將他葬在山中，至於那方木匣，沈楨找到了，打開看過，裡面有些陳舊紙張，滿滿筆跡，有沈清軒的，也有另外一人的，都是些對話，還有些書籍，都是當世難尋的典籍。不用想也是那紙上另外筆跡的主人送的。還有一套春宮。盡皆收藏好了，放在小匣裡，也不知藏了多少年。
　　沈楨將那匣子，放在了兄長棺木裡。
　　棺木入土，儀式完畢，最後眾人都散了，只沈楨一人留下，跪在墓前低泣。
　　正傷懷著，身邊多了一人，沈楨抬起頭，看著這從未謀面的男子，只一眼，就知道他的身份。
　　“你……”
　　伊墨低頭看了看他，目光又移到了那冰冷石碑上，緩緩道：“沈玨我帶走，日後有事，可來山中找我。”
　　“你是說小寶？”沈楨愣了一下，很快道：“可他是我沈家子孫。”
　　“我答應他，帶沈玨直到成年。”
　　“……如果是哥哥的意思……”沈楨紅著眼垂下頭，“我怎麼會違背哥哥的心願。”
　　
　　伊墨蹲下身，看著面前石碑，眼底無悲無喜，只是看著，最後伸出手來，摩挲著那塊冰冷石碑。上面有沈清軒的名字，這個名字，從來都是軟熱的，可以放在懷裡取暖的，這一刻，卻變得比他還冷。
　　伊墨起身離去。
　　沈楨跪在原地，仍是哭著。
　　只在拭淚時抬起頭來，眼角掃過石碑忽覺異樣，再仔細去看，那碑上邊角處多了一行字。
　　字體端正，上書：
　　未亡人伊墨

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Year after year passed, and each year was actually no different from the previous year. Shen Qingxuan felt this way, and when he asked Yi Mo, Yi Mo felt the same way. They were still the same as before, occasionally separated, for one or two days, three or five days, or one or two months, but never separated for longer. After a short separation, Yi Mo would return to the small courtyard in the south of the huge Shen’s house . At night, he would hold the man who took off his hair crown and asked him tenderly whether he would marry him.

The days passed slowly , like the calm water, time flowed silently underneath. Only when Shen Qingxuan turned his eyes occasionally did he realize that time had passed quickly, and the noisy child beside them had suddenly grown up.

Xiaobao, standing beside him, is already as strong as him.

After handling the affairs of the clan, Shen Qingxuan returned to his own courtyard with a warming tube in his sleeve . Xiaobao was reading in the room, his voice was so clear that it could be heard even outside the courtyard. Shen Qingxuan closed the door, took off the warming tube and cloak and handed them to the maid, then went over to touch Xiaobao’s head and asked in a low voice: “Where is your father?"

“He is holding a hand warmer and reading a book, but I think he should be asleep." Xiao Bao also lowered his voice and raised his head while speaking. His eyebrows and eyes were handsome, and one could already foresee his tall and graceful figure when he grows up. Glancing at his father, Xiao Bao said, “I suspect he has turned into a snake."

Shen Qingxuan laughed, “He’s still so loud even when he’s asleep."

“He woke up as soon as I stopped." Xiaobao stuck out his tongue. Sure enough, the sound of a quilt being rolled up came from behind the screen, followed by Yi Mo’s voice. “You talk too much." Yi Mo said, his voice hazy with sleepiness.

Shen Qingxuan walked over and lifted the bed curtain, only to see the quilt spread out, flat and smooth, with only a bulge in the middle, it was indeed revealed that he was sleeping soundly. Reaching out to pick up the big snake in the quilt, Shen Qingxuan said: “Don’t sleep, you don’t need to hibernate." He raised his voice and said to the screen: “Xiaobao, don’t study, today is the Lantern Festival. Let’s go to the night market tonight."

Yi Mo returned to his human form, still half leaning in front of him, and responded lazily. Xiao Bao closed the book and smiled brightly. Shen Qingxuan also smiled, his fingers running through Yi Mo’s hair. The charcoal fire in the room was burning brightly, and the tranquility was not like the human world.

It was the Lantern Festival, and the streets were full of red lanterns, creating a peaceful and joyful atmosphere. Xiaobao was running around among the goods displayed by the vendors, still playful, but much calmer than when he was a child, and no longer running around. The road was full of red and green lights, and Shen Qingxuan stood in front of the lantern stand and looked at the lantern riddles hanging on it. The riddles could be taken away as long as they were guessed. There were quite a few people gathered in front of the stand. However, when they saw the two of them coming, some of them dispersed. Having been accustomed to such treatment over the years, Shen Qingxuan did not take it seriously. Instead, he stood in front of Yi Mo and poked his chest, whispering, “Venomous snake." He pointed to Xiaobao who was watching the shadow play in front of him and said, “Beast." Finally, he pointed at himself with his backhand, “A monster who associates with poisonous snakes and beasts." Yi Mo stared at him for a moment, raised his hand and flicked him on the forehead. He had practiced this action very well, but mostly used it on Xiaobao. Shen Qingxuan laughed out loud after being flicked on the forehead, and his laughter was wild and unrestrained.

There were all kinds of shouting on the street, and the shouting of Yuanxiao was the loudest, accompanied by the aroma of boiling glutinous rice and white mist. Shen Qingxuan stopped, pulled Yi Mo to sit down, and called Xiaobao over. The three of them sat at the table, waiting for Yuanxiao.

Yi Mo doesn’t like sweets, but every year at this time, he would accompany them to eat a bowl of Yuanxiao with osmanthus sesame filling.

The stall owner was a middle-aged man with a face full of years. When he saw Shen Qingxuan coming, he put a few more Yuanxiao in the bowls of the three people. The guests sitting at another table saw this and were dissatisfied. They slammed the table and asked about the matter. The stall owner smiled innocently and said, “Master Shen’s family has been taking care of my business for twelve years."

Shen Qingxuan looked at Yi Mo in surprise , “Has it been twelve years?"

Yi Mo drank the sweet soup and ignored him. In fact, it had been thirteen years. He had been with this person for thirteen years, eating Yuanxiao, watching over New Year’s Eve, and spending thirteen years.

And, not tired yet.

After eating Yuanxiao, Shen Qingxuan took out copper coins, sixteen copper coins strung with red strings as usual, and placed them on the table. He said “good luck" to the stall owner, and the three of them continued to stroll forward.

After looking at the shadow puppet stall for a while, Shen Qingxuan went to the clay pottery stall. He stood in front of those round and chubby clay dolls for a while and asked Xiaobao which one he wanted. Xiaobao looked for a long time, pointed to a puppet and said, “This one." It was a clay doll that was dozing with its eyes squinted. It was fat, chubby, and listless, with its eyes narrowed into slits.

Shen Qingxuan glanced at Xiaobao and bought the doll without saying a word . The father and son walked aside holding the doll, and Shen Qingxuan asked, “Why did you choose this one?"

“Like father in winter, sleepy." Xiaobao laughed secretly and put the doll into his sleeve.

Shen Qingxuan turned around and looked at Yi Mo who was choosing dolls at the stall, and smiled himself.

Yi Mo came back holding a little fox in his arms. It was a clay sculpture of a fox painted with colored glaze, and its entire body was snow-white. It curled up into a ball, with its chin and nose hidden in its furry tail, revealing only a pair of narrow eyes that seemed to be smiling but not smiling, and dreaming but not dreaming. It was cunning and cute.

Yi Mo pushed the fox against Shen Qingxuan’s nose, “You."

Shen Qingxuan said: “…I am not like this at all."

“That’s right." Xiaobao testified.

Shen Qingxuan ran over and picked for a long time before picking out a clay sculpture of a fat little dog. The dog stretched its neck and looked up at the sky, wondering what it was thinking. Shen Qingxuan pushed the dog in front of Xiaobao’s nose, “You."

Xiaobao opened his mouth in astonishment: “Dad, this is a dog!"

“I know."

“I’m not a dog!" I’m a wolf!

“That’s it." Shen Qingxuan touched his head and said with a smile: “That’s it."

Yi Mo said, “Don’t argue. This is what you are in front of your elders." Yi Mo pointed at the little fat dog.

Xiaobao was so angry that he almost cried.

The three of them continued to walk forward, and Shen Qingxuan suddenly murmured in confusion, saying, “Don’t you think the dolls of the stall owner are getting fatter every year?"

Xiaobao was still struggling between the dog and the wolf, and didn’t bother to answer this question. Yi Mo looked at the dragon dance team in front of him and didn’t bother to answer this question. Shen Qingxuan thought, ah, no one cares about me.

Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a figure from the corner of his eye. Shen Qingxuan paused and then walked over. Yi Mo and Xiao Bao stood there. They also saw that person, rushing to the riverside, where the lanterns were placed. That was Xiao Bao’s grandmother, Madam Shen. That’s why Shen Qingxuan rushed over without saying a word.

Xiao Bao’s face darkened for a moment, and he asked in a low voice, “How many years has it been since Grandma last saw Dad?"

Yi Mo did not answer. He turned his head and looked forward, saying, “Let’s go watch the circus."

The two walked slowly towards the circus bridge.

Shen Qingxuan was walking in the crowd, squeezing through the noisy crowd. Seeing that he was getting closer and closer to the figure, he suddenly felt something was wrong. At that moment, his hair stood on end. A dizzy feeling came as expected, along with a bone-chilling chill, as if he had returned to the ice cave of his childhood. Shen Qingxuan tried to open his eyes, but there was only darkness.

This is the thirteenth year. Shen Qingxuan thought, even though he thought about it every day that passed .

Today was the day he had waited for. He couldn’t wait for Yi Mo any longer.

I don’t have time to wait for you. Shen Qingxuan gritted his teeth, and stumbled to the wall with the memory of the street in his mind, leaning against the wall and trying to breathe. At this moment, he shrank and thought of his mother who was setting lanterns by the river – or she disappeared.

I don’t know how long it took, maybe very short, maybe very long. Shen Qingxuan heard Xiaobao’s voice, calling him anxiously in his ear: “Daddy, Daddy!"

Shen Qingxuan slowly opened his eyes. The street was still the same street, with bright lanterns and shouts. In the boiling noise, he saw Yi Mo standing in front of him with his sleeves behind his back . He was wearing a black robe and had long black hair. He stood there from a distance, looking at him quietly, with a dead silence in his eyes.

The whole world fell into silence.

Shen Qingxuan raised the corners of his lips and smiled. With the help of Xiaobao, he stood up and walked over step by step. His steps were heavy and dragging, as if he had crossed thousands of mountains and rivers, as if he had crossed the Sansheng River, as if he was stepping on the tips of thorns, as if every footprint was left with blood. It was extremely painful and difficult to walk.

He finally stood in front of Yi Mo, eye to eye.

They stared at each other, but no sound came out.

He held Yi Mo’s hand, the lines on his hand were imprinted on his, his fingers were intertwined with each other’s, just like that, holding and pulling, and then whispered: “Let’s go home."

His life was being consumed at a rapid pace.

Xiao Bao stood in front of the door every day, listening to the noises in the house without saying a word. His father was busy dealing with affairs day and night, starting with the accounts, counting the family’s shops, fields, tenants, goods… He hadn’t rested for five days and five nights. It was as if he wanted to finish all the things in his life during this time.

Xiaobao didn’t know how long he had been standing here. He just stood there, quietly, regardless of wind or rain. Just like his father in the house, he stayed beside that person, accompanying him silently.

He already knew his origins, and he also knew that he would personally send this non-blood relative but beloved person away.

A month later, Shen Qingxuan called him into the house.

The windows of the room were closed, and in the dim light, Xiaobao saw his father.

He was skinny, with high cheekbones and a pointed jaw, and his originally black hair was now mixed with countless white strands.

Xiaobao choked up and tried to hold back his sobs, but finally he broke down in tears.

“It’s all settled." Shen Qingxuan seemed not to have heard his crying, and smiled and said, “I want to go back to the mountain, do you want to go?"

Xiaobao nodded, walked over and held his hand.

Leaving a few pieces of paper on the table, Shen Qingxuan opened the door. A breeze blew across his face, and the figure at the door seemed to be blown away and disappeared without a trace. The open door slowly closed with a “creaky" sound, covering up the love and hate that had once existed in this room.

The villa in the mountains has been vacant for many years. Shen Qingxuan sits in the sun, leaning against Yi Mo’s chest.

“Birth, aging, sickness, death, love and separation, hatred and resentment, and failure to obtain what one desires." Shen Qingxuan’s voice was hoarse and weak, and he said slowly: “There is only one suffering in my life."

Yi Mo hugged him tightly.

“Birth, aging, sickness and death are normal. The ones I love have never left me, and the ones I hate have long since stopped caring about them." Shen Qingxuan raised his hand, with veins on the back of his hand exposed. He stroked his face with his withered hand, his eyes still filled with infatuated love, and whispered, “I can only ask for it but cannot get it."

In this life, you can’t get it even if you ask for it.

Shen Qingxuan stroked his face, “Only because of this unfulfilled wish, I escaped the six sufferings. Yi Mo…" He spoke anxiously and panted twice. Yi Mo patted him gently, gently patting his skinny back, as if comforting a baby, with a cautious posture.

“I like you."

Shen Qingxuan said, closing his eyes and smiling. This was the first and only time in his life that he said he liked someone.

“Yi Mo, I like you."

With his eyes completely closed, Shen Qingxuan spoke softly, and then he seemed to fall asleep, his wrists drooping and sliding to his sides.

Yi Mo closed his eyes and held him in his arms, using all his strength, locking him tightly in his arms as if he wanted to rub this weak and dead body into his bones and blood. His lips touched those snow-white hairs and he kissed them gently.

But no one would respond to him anymore.

Shen Qingxuan left a note stating that he wanted a simple funeral after his death, and that he didn’t need to wait for Shen Zhen to come back, and that he should be buried in a separate courtyard in the mountains. He also wanted to take out a wooden box from a secret cabinet at home and bury it with him.

On the day of the coffin, Shen Zhen still rushed back. Shen’s father was old and sick in bed. Shen’s mother did not show up and locked herself in the Buddhist hall. Shen Zhen came back to take charge of the situation. Xu Mingshi also heard the news and happened to come on the day of the coffin. Shen Zhen followed his brother’s will and buried him in the mountains. As for the square wooden box, Shen Zhen found it and opened it. There were some old papers inside, full of handwriting, some from Shen Qingxuan and some from another person, all of which were conversations, and some books, all of which were rare classics in the world. Needless to say, they were also given by the owner of the other handwriting on the paper. There was also a set of erotic paintings. They were all collected and placed in a small box. I don’t know how many years they have been hidden.

Shen Zhen placed the box in his brother’s coffin.

The coffin was lowered into the ground, the ceremony was over, and finally everyone dispersed. Only Shen Zhen stayed, kneeling in front of the tomb and weeping.

Just as he was feeling sad , a new person appeared beside him. Shen Zhen raised his head and looked at the man he had never met before. He knew his identity at a glance.

“you……"

Yi Mo looked down at him, then moved his gaze to the cold stone tablet, and said slowly: “I will take Shen Jue away. If you have any problems in the future, you can come to the mountain to find me."

“You mean Xiaobao?" Shen Zhen was stunned for a moment, then quickly said, “But he is a descendant of my Shen family."

“I promised him that I would take care of Shen Jue until he reaches adulthood."

“…If it’s what brother wants…" Shen Zhen lowered his head with red eyes, “How could I go against brother’s wishes?"

Yi Mo squatted down and looked at the stone tablet in front of him, his eyes were neither sad nor happy, he just looked at it, and finally reached out his hand and stroked the cold stone tablet. On it was Shen Qingxuan’s name, a name that had always been soft and warm , and could be held in the arms for warmth, but at this moment, it became colder than him.

Yi Mo got up and left.

Shen Zhen knelt there, still crying.

Just when she was wiping her tears, she raised her head and glanced at the stone tablet, and suddenly felt something strange. She looked carefully and found an extra line of words on the corner of the tablet.

The font is correct, and it reads:

Widow Yimo