Tianwei Chapter 368: I Will Always Be With You in Life and Death (Final Chapter)
In the final moment, a single instant seemed like countless years.
Maybe it is a Taoist method that can decide the fate of the world with one palm, maybe it is a fantasy, or maybe it is the real future.
I saw a small mountain village, just like the one I stayed in when I was a child.
The world around me was green, as if grass sprouts were growing in the sky.
I saw an old man and instinctively knew that he looked like Yang, and my last name was Yang.
He wore a polyester suit and carried a mahogany dragon-headed cane. While others were busy turning the soil with hoes, sweating in summer and shivering in winter, he was planting flowers.
That flower is a rose.
Every once in a while, he would prune, remove insects, water and fertilize the roses in the fields at the entrance of the village.
I have heard many people say that this is a waste of land and will bring punishment from God.
He never paid attention to what others said. When there was a drought, every family had no food, but his roses still survived. He paid for the smooth road, which he repaired every year.
This road was the best in the area of dozens of miles. He treated this road and these two rose fields more carefully than he treated himself.
His eyes were fixed on the intersection, as if he was waiting for something. I turned my head and looked a few times, but I couldn't see anything.
One day, his door was closed, but he walked out like a ghost . He walked quietly, ignoring the people who greeted him, and did not look at the scenery on the roadside.
He kept walking until he came to the rose patch.
He stood among the flowers, still looking at the road that was repaired every year, motionless, like a sculpture.
Children are mostly curious. One of the children who followed him asked him curiously: "Master Yang, what are you looking at?"
The moment the child spoke, I saw his body suddenly tremble violently. It was not a tremor, but a wave-like tremor. The child's words were like a stone thrown into a lake, creating a series of ripples on his body.
His already twisted mouth was slightly open, his eyes were wide open, and his hands were slowly raised, slightly open, as if he was going to grab something.
I looked in the direction of his hand and saw a figure in the distance. At that moment, a slight "pop" sound was heard. When I turned around after hearing the sound, he had disappeared... What could a child of a few years old think of at that time? I think there was only one word, ghost.
If he grows up, he might add one more word, damn it.
The child stood there in a daze, letting the old army green sail bag in his hand fall off his arm and fall to the ground with a plop.
I don’t know how long it took, but I heard a very pleasant voice behind him: Little brother, is this Yangjia Village?
I turned around and saw a young woman. She was very beautiful, with long hair and a white gauze skirt, like a fairy. Moreover, I felt that she was very familiar, so familiar that when I saw her, I felt an indescribable excitement in my heart.
The child who was standing among the flowers and asking the question nodded subconsciously and pointed to the flat road: Go there.
She patted the child's head with a smile: Thank you.
Then, she looked at the rose fields on both sides and smiled even more happily. She lowered her head, revealing her beautiful dimples: "Were these two roses planted by a man named Yang?"
The child nodded and groaned, perhaps because he remembered the scene where the old man disappeared like a ghost before.
The girl smiled and touched his head again, then walked briskly towards the village. I followed her unconsciously and went to the village. Then, I heard many people shouting: Grandpa Yang is gone! Grandpa Yang is gone!
People from every household walked out of their houses with expressions of surprise and confusion.
The woman was also shocked, and even walked faster. She walked past countless strangers and entered a yard.
In the yard, there was a very tall and big jujube tree. Every year, when the jujubes were harvested, the children in the village would knock them down with bricks, branches, and sticks. Many times, those messy things would pass over the tall branches and fall into his house, followed by a loud bang. That was the sound of his roof tiles being broken again.
But the child was never afraid, because he would never blame others for this. After hearing the sound, he would always come out of the house happily, holding a cigarette in one hand, blowing out big and small smoke rings, and then chuckled to the group of friends: Little naughty monkeys, wait...
What the children were waiting for was him holding a long bamboo pole and knocking down countless sweet dates.
Sometimes, some children would take the dates and eat them while watching the old man vomiting. Sometimes, they would ask him: Grandpa Yang, is this cigarette good to smoke?
He smiled, patted the children on the head and said: Little kids, don't ask so many questions.
There were also many times when he would suddenly put the cigarette in his hand and look at it, quietly and silently. His face was always full of confusion, as if his soul was lost.
Dates are either green or red. The red ones are sweet, while the green ones... have a bitter, sour, and yearning taste. That is nostalgia, a kind of thought.
There were many people in the yard, and piles of white cloth made rustling sounds. The women in the village were making mourning cloth. The white coarse cloth was torn into strips and sewn into pieces. Many old people looked at the neatly piled mourning cloth, sighed, picked it up and put it on. His mourning hall was set up in the yard.
Perhaps because it happened so suddenly, there was no coffin. I saw him still lying in the mourning hall wearing the blue cloth shoes with green silk patterns.
I saw a beautiful woman standing at the door of the mourning hall, watching quietly, motionless. I thought, no one knows who she is, but no one would object to her paying tribute to the old man.
Her beauty caused a sensation in the village. Many men stared at her because of amazement and desire. Many women stared at her because of envy and jealousy.
There was a noise in the yard, and then a large group of people came in from outside. Then, a group of people came in carrying wreaths, spirit banners and other things.
I heard those well-dressed people say: We must inform everyone about this matter, and notify the people in the nearby villages as well. The county leaders will be here soon, you go back with Secretary Zhang to meet them. Also, the coffin must be done well, with the best materials, the best carpenters, and the shortest time, so as not to delay the funeral. The county attaches great importance to this matter, and it is said that even leaders from the city and the province will come. If it is not done well, you and I will have to step down. The people next to him nodded repeatedly, looking serious, like a student.
At this time, the few people saw the woman standing in front of the mourning hall. They were stunned for a moment, and then someone asked: Who is this woman?
No one could answer. The child who asked the question before was standing nearby. She somehow got the courage from it and shouted: She knows Grandpa Yang, he came from outside!
The people were stunned again and looked at each other. The man who had spoken earlier whispered a few words to the people around him. No one in the group came forward to ask questions, and they all stood in front of the mourning hall and just watched. Only the child ran to his mourning hall and looked at him wearing a dress made of acrylic fabric, well-cut, with wisps of patterns embroidered on the edges.
He was just lying there. I couldn't see his face. I could only see his big hands that had turned yellow from years of smoking.
The child walked to the fairy sister, looked at her, and then looked at him. "Sister, are you Grandpa Yang's granddaughter?" he asked.
She smiled. It was the first time she smiled in front of the mourning hall, and only this time.
No. She replied with these two words, then took the child's hand and walked to him. She just looked at him lying on the coffin, motionless, with a smile on her face. But as she smiled, tears began to flow.
The slightly salty substance fell into the eye sockets, fell down the bridge of the nose, dripped from the chin, and finally fell onto the child's upturned face.
Very cool and fragrant.
Perhaps the child never knew that what flows out of human eyes can emit fragrance.
Just like sand entering the belly of a clam, after a long time, it becomes a pearl.
So, he touched the tears on his face with some surprise and looked at everything with curiosity.
I'm late... she suddenly said, her voice clear and sweet, like the sound of a fairy.
I looked at her, listened to her, and suddenly I felt like my heart was blocked.
She later said the second sentence: I found the fairy fruit, but, but...
Her tears flowed more and more, and she could no longer speak. She took out a half-broken jade hairpin from her pocket, gently opened his stiff hand, and placed the hairpin there. Then, she held it tightly.
When he was buried, many people came, most of them drove. There were young and old people, men and women. The circles filled the whole yard, and there was no room for them, so the old ones were removed and replaced with new ones.
This was a grand event that shocked the area within a thousand miles. Everyone knew that Mr. Yang from Yangjia Village had passed away, and many people came to pay their respects. When he was buried, the woman stood by. She did not stop him, did not say anything, and was as quiet as a dead person.
That stop lasted seven days.
Seven days after he was buried, it was a rainy night. Thunders rang out in the sky, and the houses seemed to be shaking. The rain was like a river pouring down from the sky, and the crackling sound was like firecrackers, hitting the roofs.
The dense thunder and lightning were spectacular and extremely terrifying. They were thousands of miles away, but they were right in front of us in an instant.
All you could see was a streak of light, followed by a winding, dark cloud that tore through the sky and then fell down.
Ray, not important.
Rain is not important.
Because there appeared a beam of light. It crossed thousands of miles of sky, fell from the sky, and landed on the grave. At that moment, the earth shook. Ang!
A strange roar came from the center of the light. The sound was filled with extreme sorrow and unspeakable grief. It also seemed to carry a childlike cry, like the sorrow of a baby abandoned by its parents.
When the light disappears, everything disappears.
She was gone, and his tomb was completely turned upside down, charred from the inside out. Everything was gone, leaving only a large pit and a few faint deep cracks. Was this an illusion?
Looking at those cracks, I seemed to see a giant dragon shedding tears of blood, carrying her and him sadly, rushing towards the green sky.
Looks so familiar, have I seen them somewhere?
Maybe... I have really seen it...
Above the sky, it seems as if blood-red fireworks are blooming.
Countless years collapsed in an instant, and darkness enveloped everything.
